Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN'T IGNORE IT (IF IT'S LOVE)

CHAPTER ONE — PINE TREES AND LEATHER

…

By the end of September, everyone in Yeon Si-eun's class had already presented.

The first to manifest his sub-gender was a random boy he couldn’t bother to remember the name. The classroom, which had once only smelled of the neutral scent of the teachers and the occasional post-physical activity sweat, was suddenly filled with an odor of lemongrass and linseed oil. The frenzy was instantaneous; the boy was rushed to the infirmary, where he was given a sedative so he could hold off his rut until he got home.

However, he didn't have any rut whatsoever. As it turned out, he wasn't an alpha — as everyone wished, prayed, and dreamed for — just a plain, boring beta.

He went back to school the next day clearly devastated. They didn't expect him to come back for at least a week. Si-eun didn't consider himself particularly sensitive, but the shame he felt for the boy was excruciating. His minutes of fame had ended and the boy went back to being invisible, even though he had been the first to present himself, at the end of March. It was indeed impressive — he wasn't even seventeen, that Si-eun could remember — but being a premature wolf, like many other things, was only revered in alphas.

Not long after that, the second one presented. An alpha, smelling of sandalwood and aloe vera, who sat at the back of the room and was one of Jeon Young-bin's sidekicks. Conveniently for him, the rut symptoms appeared just in break time; before being dismissed, he spent more than fifteen minutes bragging to everyone, receiving praise and admiration like a king, screaming in the corridors and infesting the place with his smell like an agricultural plague. But he didn't leave before getting a friendly punch in the stomach from Young-bin, a silent but very effective warning — don't get too full of yourself, just wait until I present.

From April on, there was a chain reaction that, if Si-eun were a scientist detached from his reality, he would love to investigate; it was a phenomenon of nature similar to the blossoming of flowers in spring — except these flowers were violent, proud, and downright ferocious. The room was filled with scents, week after week, day after day, hour after hour; Si-eun could only watch as all the guys around him turned a switch in their biological composition and acquired another category besides human. Too many alphas and betas in one tight place.

Until the end of September, Si-eun was the only one without a label. And for a long time, he convinced himself that he didn't mind. For quite some time, he managed to remain completely indifferent.

Eventually, though, the smells became too strong to bear. The abrupt mix of spicy, wooded, and salty aromas was like a huge struggle for dominance, an invisible aggression that forced Si-eun to cover his nose with the collar of his shirt for most of the day. This gesture did not seem to please his peers at all; if they didn't care much about him before, now they seemed to perceive him exclusively — he was the last one left, the only one who felt uncomfortable enough to protect himself from the nauseating smells of newly presented alphas.

Young-bin's smell, on the other hand, was the worst of all. From his spot at the back of the room, he seemed to be wafting wood smoke directly at Si-eun, making his hair stand on end in fear. He could feel his eyes fixed on the back of his neck as if threatening him to turn around, even for just a second. A wolf waiting for its prey to show the slightest sign of weakness. A thirsty and famished wolf.

Si-eun wasn't sure if Young-bin's subtle — but extremely obvious — hatred for him was the result of an academic rivalry or something else. Maybe he just felt an innate need to upset anyone he considered merely inferior, and Si-eun was well aware that being the only unpresented wolf in a class made up mostly of alphas was to be an easy target for teasing; he just couldn't care enough when the rest of his life was about to be defined by an entrance exam.

There was something else, too, that managed to nullify Young-bin's lame attempts to frighten him; another scent, which was particularly curious to Si-eun. It was light and smooth, unlike the others, and reminded Si-eun of pine trees after an autumn rain. This scent was always accompanied by a subtle touch of leather, the kind that made motorcycle jackets and gloves. It was a comforting smell amidst the chaos that plagued that hormonal room; it was like a whisper in the middle of a concert, like a subliminal message hidden in a book — but it was also a word that was on the tip of his tongue and he couldn't quite say it.

It was liquid slipping through his fingers; as soon as the scent made itself known, it disappeared. He knew he could easily find out who it belonged to if he took his face off the textbooks for even a minute, but deep down, Si-eun clung to that mystery like Newton clung to gravity. It was the only variable in his life that made it a little less boring, a little less unbearable, and it injected a feeling into his veins that he had long since forgotten.

Still, life went on as it always had — school, cram school, video lessons, studies, studies, and more studies. Even though everyday life had become considerably more difficult, Si-eun knew that there was nothing he could do against nature, and he had no choice but to adapt. If there was one thing he could be proud of, it was his ability to block out any and all external stimuli in favor of his concentration.

Until October came. And like the leaves that fell from the trees in that second month of autumn, so did Si-eun's facades.

All of them.

It didn’t take long before Young-bin's threats stopped being merely implied by scents, and honestly, he should have seen it coming. When his shoe hit his back, he barely flinched.

"Ya , you know what?" He asked, jaw clenched and eyes wide. From that small and dangerous distance, Si-eun struggled not to choke on the almost toxic smell that the alpha gave off; in addition to charred wood, he was able to identify, for the first time, the smell of paprika, which instantly disgusted him. “People hate you. Everything you say sounds annoying. What do you think?”

That's it? Is this how he wants to tease me?

“Are you bored?”

With his personal space so blatantly invaded, the most he could do was fiddle with his material and avoid looking him in the eye. Still, Young-bin's angry scent spiked at that simple comment. It was a miracle that Si-eun hadn't suffocated yet.

“What?”

“Why don't you stop wasting your time and go study English?” He said, without any change in his tone of voice; or in his scent, for that matter. For once, he was grateful for his neutrality.

That gratitude was short-lived. If before Young-bin was burning cedarwood, he was now an entire forest fire. Si-eun could immediately notice the change of atmosphere in the room — the betas retreated in search of safety; the alphas snapped to attention, some with their teeth bared.

“Do you have a death wish?”

At that moment, dying wouldn't be so horrible. He would rather die than have to smell that abominable scent again.

When he finally looked up from the textbook, he was prepared to receive Young-bin's fury in its most physical form. A punch, a headbutt, a hand on his neck, just above his still-so-quiet scent gland. He braced himself to be ripped into tiny little shreds — after all, an unpresented wolf didn't stand a chance against an alpha.

But then, Young-bin laughed.

He laughed, that off-key, high-pitched laugh that contorted his face into an ugly caricature; that mocking laugh that accompanied his articulated bullying, that made him even more disgusting, more hideous, more repugnant and made Si-eun want to murder him.

“I know what you are, Yeon Si-eun.”

The room became eerily quiet. No teasing squeaks, no alpha growls, not even a simple “ooooh!”, as per usual. Si-eun could feel his heart pounding in his ear and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he asked:

“What?”

Young-bin scoffed. Si-eun reflexively clicked his pen. The noise was almost deafening amidst silence.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re an omega.”

And then, the world reacted around him again.

The scents spiked almost violently. The alphas seemed way too fascinated by the prospect of an omega sharing a room with them. The class was filled with several simultaneous whispers — is he? Is it true? — and Si-eun started to feel dizzy.

"I mean..." Young-bin's voice returned to his ears, louder than all the others, pounding on his brain and making it bleed. “You're one of the shortest guys in the room; omegas are usually smaller in stature.” He approached slowly, like the predator he was. “You’re terrible in every physical activity; omegas are normally weaker.” He came closer; so close, that Si-eun could feel his breath touching the skin of his cheeks. His heart was about to come out of his mouth, he was so disgusted. “You’re quiet and inconspicuous, if not for your arrogant face, which is typical of a fragile and insignificant omega.”

He tried to take a deep breath, but the air couldn't reach his lungs. Cold sweat broke out at the base of his neck and trickled down his back. Everyone's gazes were fixated on him, judgmental, scrutinizing, vicious.

Finally, when the weight of humiliation was too heavy to bear, he made the mistake of looking at Young-bin.

He had the most wolfish smile he had ever seen in his life. Never had anyone been so happy to see him miserable.

"And these eyes..." Young-bin mumbled, as if in a trance. Si-eun couldn't look away, no matter how contradictory it was. “These bizarre eyes. You always look like you're going to start crying at any moment. They're the perfect eyes for a docile, supple omega, desperate for an alpha's knot.”

Young-bin's scent suddenly changed. Si-eun could clearly feel the way the burnt smell of his anger was quickly replaced by the peppery aroma of paprika and the damp aspect of cedar in summer. The other alphas began to emit pheromones, reacting to Young-bin's words as a collective.

And then, the penny dropped.

“I bet you're so sensitive; one thrust and you're already sobbing, begging for more with those eyes of a bitch in heat. You are a classic omega, made to be submissive, to breed, to own.”

Young-bin was aroused.

Si-eun was shaking so much that the pen in his hand nearly slipped out of his sweaty fist. His tongue caught a metallic taste; he didn't even realize he was biting his dry lips repeatedly. In his desperation, he grabbed the edge of his desk as a means of defending himself and taking hold of reality. There was no doubt about what he should do.

He was going to kill Young-bin. He was going to kill him now.

“Hm? What's wrong? Are you gonna cry for real?” His teasing had a twisted undertone of affection to it, which only made it all the more sadistic. Si-eun was going to be sick. “You want me to help you? Want me to ease the pain?”

He was done. One thrust of the pen to his neck and he would bleed to death.

"Shut the fuck up- "

“Okay, that's enough.”

He blinked, and Young-bin was no longer in front of him.

The aforementioned alpha had been thrown to the ground, pulled by the collar of his shirt. Si-eun's pen was still hovering in the air, ready to be stuck in Young-bin's neck veins and paint a scene more chaotic than Guernica’s. For a few seconds, still in his bloodlust state, he was a little disappointed, but the unison reaction of his classmates brought him back to the present. The scents shifted once again, reaching varying peaks, but Si-eun reveled in the fact that he could finally breathe. That repulsive scent that made him sick was now far away, disappearing among the rest. Beside him, there was only the strong smell of pinewood and clean leather.

His heart shuddered in his chest, down to the pit of his stomach and back again.

When he looked up, it stopped.

“I was trying to sleep on my precious break time, but y’all were acting like savages.”

There he was, the owner of his favorite scent in the world — even if he would never admit it, and even if he wasn't aware of it. His body was; his wolf, whatever it was, was fully aware.

Standing there, looking infinitely taller than Si-eun, was a boy he had never noticed before. With his neatly cropped hair, straight bangs covering his forehead, full cheekbones, and heart-shaped face, he looked like the earthly son of a god; so ordinary, yet so, so great. Si-eun felt his breath hitch in his neck and, a little dizzy, decided that he was going to remain as still as possible.

"Can you please stop this nonsense at once? Huh? Young-bin-ah! Aren't you embarrassed about growing your knot in front of the entire class?” Some alphas in the room sneered. The boy walked away from Si-eun's table, heading towards Young-bin and he immediately shivered, covering his face with his hands. Coward. "And for a wolf pup, at that! You must not last two seconds. Ya! I'm ashamed for you.”

Si-eun felt his face heat up. Of all the teasing he'd received that day, was it being called a pup that made him blush? He tried to be rational and tell himself it was because the term was infantilizing; it definitely wasn't because he had been the one to call him that — no, of course not.

“Aish, I'm tired. Can’t hyung here have his beauty sleep in peace?”

The turmoil in the room was dispersed. Those who had risen to see the mess up close returned to their seats, some silent, some grumbling. Those already in their seats looked away as if nothing had happened. It was funny, actually, how much everyone didn't dare challenge that alpha. Si-eun soon realized that not only was that scent calm, almost untouched by any hormonal changes or external stimuli, but it also exuded perfectly truthful confidence. A scent that said I know my skills and I'm not afraid to use them.

Young-bin was now just a pathetic stain on the ground. If Si-eun was able to pay attention to anything other than the boy in front of him, he would feel the shame in the air like expired spice. His sidekicks, still at the back of the room, were unusually quiet and could only hold their breath as their leader staggered to his feet, storming out of the room in fury.

When everything was back to normal, the boy turned around, meeting Si-eun's gaze already on him. His face immediately softened, and he leaned closer again, staring at him with the hint of a smile.

His eyes were so gentle, so peaceful. Si-eun was forced to look away; his heart was going to explode, shatter into pieces, crumble to dust. He didn't know how he hadn't gone into cardiac arrest yet.

“Are you okay?”

He's talking to me.

“Hm.”

Very expressive, Yeon Si-eun.

"Was that a yes?"

His tone sounded very amused. Si-eun, taken by curiosity and the almost biological need to see him, looked up again and instantly regretted it.

He was smiling. A smile that made his cheekbones rise and accentuated the dimples at the edge of his lips. He reminded Si-eun of a children's cartoon character, even Anpanman if only his cheeks were a little pinker.

Si-eun almost forgot that he had been asked a question, but decided not to answer. He was often told that his eyes were devoid of any emotion, but he hoped that, for once, they could get through to what he wanted to say. Under that boy's gaze, he felt more exposed and vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life, and that scared him to death.

Seconds passed and the alpha's smile gradually faded until he cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at Si-eun's melancholic — tearful — eyes.

"Listen, about what he said-"

The noise of the sliding door being dragged abruptly interrupted them.

"Who’s Ahn Soo-ho?"

The boy sighed — a deep, tired sigh — but he didn't turn around.

A few guys from the baseball team entered the room, looking around as if they were about to mark territory. Two of them had bats and they all looked equally pissed off. But one of them, in particular, was itching for a fight, his fists stiffening against his thighs.

"Who the fuck is Ahn Soo-ho? I won't ask again.”

Si-eun could see, out of the corner of his eye, people pointing towards his table. He was confused for a second, but when he understood, he felt his stomach twist.

“Arg! You gotta be kidding me.” He, of all the other guys, headed towards the group, looking pissed beyond comprehension. Si-eun felt his mouth go dry. Ahn Soo-ho. That's his name. "What do you want?"

The leader of the baseball players was practically fuming. The others were a mixture of surprised and flustered, but soon went back to their composure. The room was filled with the scent of angry alphas again. Si-eun considered packing his things and leaving before the break ended. What a hellish day.

"You hit on Na-eun, didn't you?" The angriest of them, probably the captain of the team, asked. He seemed to be holding on to what little sanity he had left, blinking several times with a vague gaze.

Soo-ho — that was his name, Si-eun's brain had yet to process it — frowned, genuinely confused. Si-eun guessed he was more irritated at having their conversation interrupted than by the accusation itself, but that was an indulgent thought.

“Na-eun?” He repeated as if trying to recall a very distant memory. “Lee Na-eun? Park Na-eun?"

The captain bared his teeth, snarling. Out of breath, he was about to burst with rage.

"It's Son Na-eun, you jerk!"

“Oh, that one! She kept texting me so I had a meal with her once." He replied, casually, as if he were saying the answer to an annoying math question. “I'm not interested in her. She's not my type."

He scratched the back of his neck, fiddled with his shirt, and then had the audacity to turn to Si-eun, staring at him almost sheepishly. Si-eun's expression remained unchanged, wondering why Soo-ho looked like a husband who had been caught cheating.

Their little interaction was again interrupted. The alphas on the baseball team weren't going to go away without a few punches, that much was obvious.

"Guys" The leader commanded, his voice deep and impetuous, and that was enough.

From where he was sitting, Si-eun could watch everything unfold clearly, as if he had a premium seat at a concert. One of the players tried to hit Soo-ho with a baseball bat, but he easily dodged it. They followed him to the back of the room only to be hurled against the lockers. Around them was a chorus of ooohs and aaahs as Soo-ho majestically dodged punches, jabs, and kicks. In a minute, he had managed to snatch one of the baseball bats and throw it away, kick an alpha right in his knot, and grab the captain by the ear, all while appearing to be openly enjoying himself. Between a wink and a smile thrown so charmingly at his sworn enemies, Si-eun couldn't help but think he was showing off.

Showing off, as all the other alphas did. Out of a sheer desire for dominance, territorialism, veneration. Si-eun was almost disenchanted despite his artistic fighting skills — not that he was even enchanted in the first place.

Unlike the other alphas, though, Soo-ho was only violent when absolutely necessary.

"Are you going to leave now?" He asked, with the team captain crouched by the strength of his fingers.

"Okay, damn it!"

Soo-ho released him, looking for traces of hair or blood on his fingernails and smoothing down his clothing. Si-eun had always been called aloof, but Soo-ho — Soo-ho was aloof in a completely different way. That threat to his life seemed more like friendly sparring to him, and Si-eun found himself strangely interested.

As expected, that dumb alpha didn't stop; he lunged at Soo-ho with his friend's baseball bat. Soo-ho, without realizing it, was walking towards Si-eun's table and had to crouch down when the boy threw the bat in his direction, knocking over his pencil case in the process. The thing hit the chalkboard, between some students who were filming the chaos, causing a loud metallic clatter.

Soo-ho turned away, biting his tongue behind his clenched jaw. He repositioned his jacket, which was falling over his left shoulder, and for the first time, Si-eun could smell the scent of burning pinewood.

“You crossed the line.”

In two seconds, it was over.

One punch was enough for that alpha to fall hard to the ground. The other players cowered pathetically at the back of the room and only started to move again when Soo-ho ordered them to take their leader to the infirmary — without any mention of his name, of course.

As if he had just realized it, Soo-ho met Si-eun's gaze again, and it was exactly the same as before that whole fight; the only difference — which Soo-ho's dumb alpha brain couldn't help but notice — was that Si-eun's lips formed an almost imperceptible and probably involuntary pout. And then, he lowered his head — his hair looks soft, he thought against his will — and stared at a fixed spot on the floor.

His pencil case, open. On the floor.

"Oh… Was it me?"

Of course it was you, who else would it be? Si-eun wanted to answer.

"Yes."

Any more of that and Soo-ho would think he was monosyllabic.

He immediately grabbed his things and left them on the table.

“Sorry, man." ”Soo-ho made a placating gesture with his hands, nodding slightly, his smile now awkward. He was closer than ever and Si-eun didn't know how to respond, how to stop staring, how to do anything but think about just how annoyingly handsome he was.

And then, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Why would you do that in a classroom?"

Soo-ho blinked, unresponsive. Si-eun turned around, determined to cut contact right then and there; he'd already missed a lot of study time and, quite honestly, he was tired of dealing with alphas. Soo-ho bit his tongue, almost as if he couldn't believe it. Barely holding back a smile, he walked away.

Si-eun would’ve liked to be able to get back to the quadratic equations, but the previous minutes kept repeating in his mind like a scratched record. More than anything, though, was the realization that his mystery had been solved. The pinewood and smooth leather had an owner; that comforting and relaxing scent that brought him a mere sample of peace amid so many chaotic and aggressive stimuli, those butterflies in his stomach and the leap in his heart that he felt every time he managed to catch a little whiff of that smell, the emotion of knowing that there was something wonderful right under his nose; all that euphoria had a face, a body, and a name.

Ahn Soo-ho. Those letters formed a bittersweet taste on his tongue that lingered until nightfall.

In the days that followed, Ahn Soo-ho seemed to be everywhere, much to Si-eun's dismay. It got to the point where he wondered how the hell he hadn't noticed him before, given his very specific scent — very specific, to a specific nose.

Starting with the fact that Si-eun was always the first to arrive in the classroom and, as a consequence, he was the first to come face to face with Soo-ho, sleeping in his makeshift bed and clutching to his pink pillow. As he quickly learned, Soo-ho spent the night at school — doing what, he didn't know — but Si-eun was bombarded by the smell of pine trees and clean leather that flooded the room every morning. For at least thirty minutes every day, he studied in Soo-ho's comfortable presence and that soothing scent that almost lulled him back to sleep too. He could tell when the smell got wetter, like a pine forest on a rainy day, or when the leather got stronger. Si-eun had never had such a keen sense of smell, but it was as if his body responded to Soo-ho's slightest signals, attentive and alert, yet still calm and focused. He didn't have the means to understand, and he didn't have the time either, so he just pushed it aside as much as he could.

It was intimate, in a way. As if it was a moment just for them, for them only.

When the other students arrived, Soo-ho's scent would scatter and get lost in the background. Si-eun tried not to show how disappointed that left him. 

On a day of reviewing contents that Si-eun was already tired of knowing, he allowed himself the luxury of indulging in theories. Maybe he didn't notice Soo-ho's scent before because he used scent blockers. But the smell always persisted, albeit unnoticed and unobtrusive, so Si-eun guessed that he didn't use them regularly, which messed up the functioning of his scent gland a bit. Or perhaps, because Soo-ho was always asleep, he didn't attach himself to external forces to the point of giving off a strong smell; or at least strong enough to compete with others. He was also exceptionally calm, and alphas — especially newly presented alphas — were completely ruled by emotions, which altered their scents.

But in the end, Si-eun couldn't decipher Ahn Soo-ho. Any attempt to find an answer was futile; there was no way to simply take a sample of his biological composition and analyze it in the chemistry lab. Si-eun hated not knowing things, but Soo-ho seemed to be one of those mysteries that kept causing discomfort even after they were solved.

What irritated him the most, though, was the fact that Soo-ho was back to acting like he didn't know him after that commotion. And now that he knew who Soo-ho was, ignoring him had become impossible. In fact, it wasn't like Si-eun showed much interest either, with his dainty way of opening the curtains and pretending Soo-ho wasn't even there. This brought him paradoxical feelings; Si-eun never wanted to be noticed by anyone — not even his parents, after a few years — but he wanted Soo-ho's attention for himself, even for a few seconds. He tried to convince himself that it was a purely biological response to the only pleasant smell in the whole damned school, but he couldn't believe his own line of reasoning.

And so, proud and unable to do anything about it, he let the days pass, hoping that thoughts of Soo-ho would fade to the back of his mind as his scent faded to the back of the class.

But Young-bin. Young-bin didn't seem willing to forget.

His threats were back to being indirect, through hostile pheromones and obviously aggressive looks, but there was something different about them. Something that wasn't the result of a simple academic feud or a desire to bully. It was something perverse, evil even, which Si-eun would be afraid of if he was a little more attached to his own life.

Young-bin and his sidekicks went a few days without disturbing him. Si-eun even came to believe that they had given up.

But then, on a hotter-than-usual Tuesday, his gym uniform disappeared from his backpack.

He felt his blood boil and bubble in his temples. His chest was tight, his mouth dry. He turned back, facing that corner of the room cursed with the most terrible scents. They were talking about an omega model who had recently appeared on the cover of Playboy — she's so hot! — and laughing at any sexist bullshit that came out of one of their mouths. Their current victim was standing there, waiting for Young-bin to tie the laces on his sneakers. The other two started comparing sizes, and Si-eun couldn't tell if they were talking about muscles or knots; probably the latter.

“What are you looking at?” It didn't take Young-bin long to notice his gaze, as if he'd been waiting. He looked ridiculous pretending not to understand, his eyebrows arching and making his forehead crease, contrasting with his petulant pout. “What's the matter? Did you lose something?”

Cynical son of a bitch.

"I could fold you in half!" The alpha sidekick yelled, flashing his biceps and baring his fangs. The other minion, the beta with the most outrageous smell Si-eun had ever sensed, made a hiss and threatened to raise his fist. Si-eun's face didn't show anything so different from its usual dull expression, but inside, he was losing his sanity little by little. That bastard doesn't know when to stop.

He turned away, realizing that it would be much worse if he reacted now. As they walked away, showing off the size of their muscles, Si-eun couldn't help but compare them to dogs. Stray dogs, scratching their balls and chasing their own tails, foaming at the mouth. That was all they were.

Alone in the room, he noticed that Soo-ho's scent still lingered, light, attached to his pink pillow. He took a deep breath.

He would let it go, if only this once.

Soo-ho was dismissed to the stands sooner than he expected.

He hadn't realized how badly he needed a run to clear his head. Spending hours sitting on a motorcycle, then sleeping on hard tables, and sitting in a school chair was extremely exhausting. He hated seeing his grandmother's guilty face as he walked home tired at the end of his shift, so he decided to settle for that routine during the weekdays. But damn, it felt good to get away from it for a while, if only to run in circles and silently pass judgment on all those alphas who had no reason to be so full of themselves.

Gradually, one by one, the others filled the stands.

Young-bin and his minions, whose names he had no idea of, were the first to arrive after him, much to his immense chagrin. They came back grumbling and complaining, tired as if they didn't boast about their physical strength at every opportunity. They were more chatty than usual that day and Soo-ho found himself getting progressively angrier. The others arrived and piled up in various little groups that Soo-ho didn't mind being left out of; yet those three guys — always those three — stood in the center like they were kings.

Soo-ho had never liked them, even though they never messed with him. Perhaps that was precisely why — they only went after the weak.

Still, he ignored them, as he was used to. Willing to distract himself from the scent of sweaty wolves and their inane chatter, he turned to stare at the track — not that he had much else to do. His eyes were automatically drawn to a white little dot that was far behind the other runners; said little dot crawled with enormous difficulty toward the finish line, stopping every five seconds to catch its breath. Soo-ho felt an odd mix of affection and pity settle in his chest, warm and fuzzy.

His eyes always seemed to find Yeon Si-eun, as if they were trained to do so. Since their first and last interaction, he found himself looking for him several times in every environment he entered at school, almost instinctively. He discovered that Si-eun was always the first to arrive in the room — because he insisted on opening the curtains —, he could spend hours on end studying without losing concentration, he ate lunch at his desk — he always finished his food in fifteen minutes, no more no less — he only took his headphones off during class and didn't talk to anyone at all the entire day.

But during that short time that he had watched him — not like a stalker, of course —, never before had Si-eun forgotten his gym uniform. He was organized and neat and methodical.

Soo-ho felt deep in his heart that something was wrong.

“Look at that idiot running.”

He swallowed hard, clicking his tongue. Of course, it had to do with that shitty little gang. There was no one else besides Si-eun that they could refer to, but Soo-ho still wished that they would just leave him alone.

“Seriously, there's no way he's not an omega.” One of the alphas commented, making Soo-ho's ears ring. His fists clenched involuntarily and his fingers were slowly slipping in their own sweat. “Look at the way his hips sway when he runs.”

Young-bin smiled bizarrely at that comment. It made Soo-ho want to punch him.

"Is he an omega zombie or what? He might as well run like this.” The scrawniest of them, the beta, began to imitate him in the most ridiculous way possible, exaggerating the movement of his arms and hips, making the others laugh. Young-bin, in particular, seemed to be having the time of his life. "You jerks, wait there, you jerks!"

Soo-ho didn't have to think twice. Calmly, he took off his shoe and threw it at the asshole right in the head, stopping the laughter at once. They turned, prepared to attack, but when they saw Soo-ho's gaze — and felt his menacing pheromones — their impulses withered. Where before there had been mocking laughter, there was now just awkward silence.

“Bring it to me.” He commanded. The beta stood still for a few seconds, reluctant, but finally decided to obey him. Soo-ho allowed himself to feel proud, even though he didn't like to brag about his alpha status. They shouldn't talk about Si-eun like that.

When the boy returned with his sneakers, he looked ashamed, like a wolf cast out of its pack. Soo-ho didn't feel sorry for him at all.

“What was your name again?”

The beta blinked a few times, averting his gaze. Being treated so insignificantly had surprised him, which made Soo-ho delighted. His scent — a malformed mixture of charcoal and boldo tea — did not even hint at anger; he was perfectly crestfallen.

“I'm Lee Jeong-chan.” He said as if answering the class call. Soo-ho nodded after a few seconds, dismissing him by swinging his sneakers. The boy went down the stone stairs without half the energy he had before, and Soo-ho could feel the furious scent of the other two alphas forming bullet holes in his head. But all he had to do was look in their direction for Young-bin to turn away, his jaw clenched.

Soo-ho took a deep breath through his nose, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. Jeon Young-bin and his minions were everything that was wrong with alphas and society as a whole. He hated how they talked about Si-eun's sub-gender — which hadn't even been presented yet, for christ’s sake —, objectifying him in an almost nymphomaniac way. Omegas weren't inferior to alphas in any way, and yet they treated the mere possibility of having a male omega in their classroom as a sex toy for their sick pleasure, a breeding whore, a doll to rip apart and destroy as they pleased. It made Soo-ho's blood boil; his grandmother was an omega, his mother had been an omega as well. He had lived with omegas for as long as he could remember his own name and he couldn’t think of them as anything less than amazing. Through their painful heats and the awful discrimination, they always managed to be the most hardworking, nurturing, and kind people in existence.

Soo-ho had yet to find an omega who wasn't like that — which, he was a little ashamed to admit, made him think of Yeon Si-eun.

Si-eun, who always worked so hard to achieve good grades and academic success. Si-eun, who appeared always so sorrowful and lonely, yet so gentle and delicate in his complexion. Si-eun, who wasn't afraid to impose limits on those who deserved it. Si-eun, Si-eun, Si-eun.

Si-eun had occupied his thoughts a lot ever since they first spoke, and Soo-ho would be a fool to deny it. 

Secretly, he too wished that Si-eun would be an omega. But not for any particular reason other than the desire to feel his scent in the air and how distinctly different it would be from the rest of the class — would he be sweet, like his mother? Would he be floral, like his grandmother? Would he smell like tropical fruits, like his neighbor, Mr. Wang? He bet he'd be sweet, if not a little bitter, just to spice things up. Would his secondary scent be too different from the primary one, or would they complement each other? The possibilities were endless and made Soo-ho's mind wander to the ways he could take his hand in his and bring it to his lips, or how he could run his fingers through his seemingly fluffy hair and feel him melt under the effect of his alpha pheromones. He thought he would look beautiful with a satisfied, relaxed smile on his face after a good scenting session, maybe he'd even grunt and purr a little, and he'd fit perfectly in his arms, where Soo-ho could rest his chin on his shoulder or the top of his head.

When Si-eun finally reached the end of the track, he wasn't the only one red-faced and struggling to breathe.

Soo-ho felt a little guilty when he came to his senses. Was he any different from Young-bin and the others, thinking of Si-eun that way? That comparison made him frown. Involuntarily, he searched for the bully with his eyes and wasn't surprised to see him staring at Si-eun with an expression of strange interest. When the teacher asked them to take Si-eun to the nurse's office, before he pointedly refused it, Young-bin looked almost flattered, as if he was up to something and things had conspired in his favor.

Soo-ho wrinkled his nose in annoyance. His alpha, while a little obnoxious at times, was rarely wrong with its intuition. 

He was going to spend more time in the locker room that day to confirm his suspicions — or, at the very least, to redeem himself.

Si-eun was willing to let it go, he really was.

Even when he trudged back to the locker room, his feet bubbling and aching from his inappropriate running shoes. Even when he heard them teasing the way he ran and planning to hit him. Even when he entered the room, fixing Young-bin with his iron gaze, and had them complaining about his smell of sweat. Even with all of that, he walked straight to his locker, not saying anything, willing to let it go. If he didn't have extra clothes to change into, he would have a towel, and if he didn't have a towel, he would certainly have something-

"Are you guys smelling this?"

Young-bin's tone was mischievous and loud. Si-eun could feel his nauseating smile on his skin, with way too many teeth.

"Smelling what?" The other two asked after a few seconds, clearly unaware of his intentions. Si-eun, on the other hand, had nothing in the closet but an old perfume that he had forgotten he had left there. He was convinced that Young-bin had thrown his uniform away.

He gripped the closet door tightly until his fingertips turned white. Young-bin stood up, looking around, feigning nonchalance.

“Someone decided to bless us with his scent, finally. Yeon Si-eun-ah, you smell sweeter than usual today, or rather, sweeter than ever.” Si-eun saw, by the reflection on the floor, the alpha's shadow approaching. He thought he was going to rip that door off with his bare hands with the way his rage was building, reaching its limit. "Looks like all that running really got to you."

Young-bin was even closer now. Si-eun couldn't take it anymore.

"Will you finally present, hm? Will you finally come into heat like the good omega you're supposed to be?”

And to his utter terror, he inhaled. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Oh, is that… is that chocolate?”

Si-eun closed the closet door abruptly, causing a deafening noise. He turned around with the most irate look he had ever expressed and he didn't need anyone to tell him that his eyes were red. He took a step forward and Young-bin staggered back like the cowardly son of a bitch he was. He just stopped avoiding Si-eun when he got closer to his sidekicks, who soon surrounded the smaller boy. But Si-eun didn't look away from Young-bin for even a second; he wanted to pierce his hatred as viscerally as possible — he wanted Young-bin to feel it like needles in his tendons, torturing him, making him scream until his insides burned and came out of his mouth.

“Stop this. I'm asking you.”

He wouldn't beg, he wouldn't cry; just ask politely. Or at least, as politely as he could manage with that homicidal glare — psychotic even, some would say.

Young-bin frowned and clenched his jaw.

“What?”

Si-eun took a deep breath, not moving a muscle on his face. The charcoal-scented beta was to his right, the sandalwood-scented alpha was behind him. And in front of him, rotten paprika. All of them were burnt sulfur. Putrid. Filthy.

“Stop bothering me.”

The sidekicks snickered, but Young-bin didn't seem to be amused. He swallowed hard, now staring straight at him.

“I don't know what you're talking about." Cynical as ever. “You can't just show up with that disgustingly sweet smell and expect me not to react.”

That’s it. That's enough.

“That's a warning.” And it really was. Si-eun's patience was wearing thin and he didn't know what he would be capable of if Young-bin continued to harass him. It was hate like he'd never felt before; a life-or-death feeling, the kind that sent adrenaline coursing through his veins. He despised it, even though it made him feel alive for a change.

As he turned to leave, the sandalwood and aloe vera scented alpha reached out to grab him, but Young-bin stopped him, grabbing Si-eun by the neck and pushing him until his back hit the locker with a hard thud. The other students in the locker room immediately stopped to see what was going on, involuntarily releasing all kinds of scents — curiosity, fear, awe. For a measly second, Si-eun thought how ridiculous it was to know what others thought through smell, how that whole situation was ridiculous, ridiculous.

All because he wasn't a goddamn alpha, and probably wouldn't even be a stupid beta.

"That's not how you ask someone a favor." Young-bin muttered through clenched teeth. “Wolves like you should take what you’re given. You should be quiet and obey.” His fist, which was getting tighter and tighter around Si-eun's neck, sneaked up on his scent gland. Si-eun could barely breathe, but he could feel the panic settle all the way to the pit of his stomach as Young-bin raised his index finger just above the gland. "Now try again."

His grip tightened. Si-eun stared at him with teary eyes, choking on his own saliva. He could feel the muscles in his throat burning.

“What?” He barely managed to say. Young-bin's scent sharpened.

He lightly touched his scent gland, the most wicked look in his eyes, and pressed.

Si-eun's scream was suppressed by an even more violent grab. He felt a sharp, punctual pain right in his pelvis as if someone were poking him with a knife. His belly button was hurting so much he imagined it would pop open like a sink plug and let him explode.

So this is how I die. He thought. How fitting, for someone like me.

“Young-bin.” The other alpha — what was his name again? Hwang Tae-moon? Kang Tae-hyoon? Si-eun didn't know, he was about to die — looked scared. Even the beta was wary, looking back and forth from where he was standing.

“I won't let go. If you try to stop me, I’ll kill you.” Young-bin replied, his eyes fixed on Si-eun, on the way sweat trickled down his face and how he got redder by the second. Young-bin reveled in that power, so physical and malleable in the palm of his hands, but Si-eun's scent remained light and unaltered. No matter how much he teased him, how hard he tried, he could never get a meaningful reaction out of him, and it pissed him off beyond comprehension.

It made him want to hurt Si-eun irreversibly. Maybe this was his chance.

Si-eun, on the other hand, already looked physically and mentally exhausted, unable to fight against Young-bin's grip. Still, he tried to inhale through his nose in a futile attempt to remain in control of his body. But his eyes widened, showing, for the first time, an emotion other than boredom, contempt, hatred. It was the expression of something Young-bin couldn't name, but Si-eun knew it was recognition — longing, even. And then, the two felt that scent approaching, getting dangerously close and stopping.

Pinewood, burning like an erupting volcano. Soon after, a voice.

“What are you doing over there?”

But the voice was not Ahn Soo-ho's.

Young-bin immediately let go of Si-eun, who started coughing. For a second, Young-bin was afraid he was going to throw up right in his running shoes, but he just crouched down, his legs wobbly and his throat feeling like it was going to close off the entire passage of air. In front of them, a teacher, Mr. Woo, viewed the situation with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"Nothing, we were just messing around. Si-eun, are you okay?”

Young-bin smiled — that repulsive, repulsive smile of his — and put his arm around Si-eun's shoulders, still coughing, clutching his throat as if that would ease the pain. The professor didn't look the least bit convinced.

“Han Tae-hoon, tell me what’s going on here.” He turned to the alpha beside them. Si-eun couldn't even recognize that that was his name, desperate to breathe decently again. As Tae-hoon answered, Young-bin crouched down to whisper in his ear:

"Hey, you don't want trouble, do you?" Without any context, an outside viewer would think he was trying to console him. Si-eun was regaining the ability to breathe, even though he seemed to have run another ten laps of the athletics track. “You need to go to college.”

Right. College. Everything he did, everything he didn't do, was to go to college. He couldn't let Young-bin ruin his chances of getting into one of the renowned universities, as much as he wanted to bash his skull in with an encyclopedia.

“Yeon Si-eun, speak for yourself.”

He felt him approach before he even saw him. When Si-eun finally looked up, Ahn Soo-ho was already staring at him. Beside the teacher, he looked serious and disappointed, looking intently at Si-eun as if trying to figure him out. As if he knew exactly what hurt him, all his silent anguish, all the pain that accompanied him until he fell asleep. Soo-ho looked at him as if he knew exactly what had happened and as if to say: tell the truth, please.

Si-eun's heart made an uncomfortable twist. He swallowed and felt his throat burn like salt over open wounds.

"Were you really just messing around?"

Soo-ho looked almost pleading and Si-eun was forced to look down at the floor. He pushed Young-bin's arm away and, feeling lightheaded, replied:

"Yes sir, we were just messing around."

Soo-ho's scent soured. It was once sad and irritated, now it reeked of disappointment. Si-eun hated the way he immediately felt miserable, sad for breaking an expectation he didn't even know was imposed on him. Soo-ho and Si-eun didn't have any kind of relationship, it didn't make sense for Soo-ho to expect anything from him and, much less, for Si-eun to bother to reciprocate any of his wishes. He couldn't for the life of him understand what was so different about Soo-ho that elicited that kind of response from him. If he had the slightest bit of energy to think, he would draw some connection to Skinner's theories of learned behavior, maybe he could even manage to treat himself like a lab rat and shake off that mysterious effect Soo-ho had on him.

But at that moment, he couldn't do anything. All he could do was take a deep breath and, against any outside encouragement, survive.

“Don't do that again, okay?” Mr. Woo ordered, to which they replied yes sir. It was so easy, as if the teachers really didn't even try to care. Without any further investigation, Mr. Woo walked away and left them there to fend for themselves, or in this case, not to fend for themselves, since there was no problem in the first place.

If Young-bin wanted to, he could just pick up from where he left off, but Soo-ho's frightening presence in the corner of the door startled all the onlookers and made Young-bin cringe like an abused dog. His minions called him, whispering incoherent words and Si-eun could hear a very muffled "let's get out of here". They stood there staring at the exit for a solid minute before they decided to take the risk, passing Soo-ho at a quick but steady pace, trying not to show fear and failing miserably. Young-bin was the last one past him and the pheromones of rage were so strong that the bully was forced to hold his breath, storming out of the locker room faster than his recent marathon.

Soon, it was just Soo-ho and Si-eun in the locker room, alone.

Soo-ho's expression softened, and consequently, so did his smell. He looked sad in a way that Si-eun couldn't help but question. His pheromones stopped being threatening — protective, in fact — and started to emit an aroma that worked very well to calm Si-eun, even if minimally. He had finally stopped coughing, but his throat still hurt to the point that a soothing touch did more harm than good. When Soo-ho finally broke the silence, his voice sounded much deeper, more serious than usual:

“I'm sorry.”

Si-eun blinked.

“What?” Soo-ho didn't answer. “Why?”

Si-eun was frowning now. Soo-ho decided then and there that he hated seeing him like this: tired, sweaty, confused, cornered, and, dare he say it, humiliated. He wanted to go after Young-bin at Usain Bolt's speed and make him choke on his dirt-stained shoes. But he chose not to cause more trouble than necessary, and found himself justifying it:

“I heard everything from the other room. I was going to interfere, but you started to-”

“I don't need you to interfere.” Si-eun cut him off abruptly. Soo-ho looked indignant for a moment but quickly returned to the serious and downcast expression from before, which Si-eun soon decided he hated. And then, like an epiphany, he understood why Soo-ho had looked so upset.

Soo-ho felt responsible. Responsible for him.

Si-eun felt an icy sensation in his stomach which he interpreted as a refusal. Because, truly, he refused to be a burden to anyone other than his parents. It didn't matter that the only reason he wasn't at the hospital right now was Soo-ho's presence, and it didn’t matter how amazing Soo-ho's pheromones made him feel, he refused to involve in his problems someone who had nothing to do with them, or even himself.

It was a bitter choice, but one he made with conviction.

"I was just going to do something if the teacher didn't-"

“I don't need you to interfere, I'm serious.” Si-eun repeated, this time with more clarity. Soo-ho, interrupted a second time, didn't hide the acid look he gave to Si-eun's neck. The shorter boy almost wanted to lift his shirt collar; he was sure that when he looked in the mirror, he would see red marks from Young-bin's violent touch. That thought almost made him want to cut his head off. "Let me handle them myself."

He wanted to add something else, like I don't need help or I don't need protection, but those statements seemed more and more false as Young-bin continued to advance in his pursuit. Still, Si-eun found himself unable to accept whatever Soo-ho seemed to be proposing, heading towards the exit without even looking him in the eye.

Any hope he had of ending the conversation there, however, was dashed when Soo-ho stopped him from leaving, holding him by the wrist.

Si-eun gulped, still not used to the way his heart responded to Soo-ho. His scent was so close.

"At least change your clothes. I have an extra towel and uniform in my locker.”

For a moment he considered accepting it, but he thought that the mere possibility of walking back into the classroom smelling like the alpha would be too much to bear — it would probably cause a fuss, too.

Cheeks burning for a reason quite apart from his previous suffering, he shook off the hand that held him.

"I probably wouldn't fit in your uniform."

And with that, he was gone.

The days passed without major events, but this time, Si-eun wasn't naive enough to think that he would be left alone. At least, not by Young-bin.

But he definitely didn't expect to have to talk to Soo-ho again — not anytime soon, and not at his own house.

"Oh, bookworm! What are you doing here?”

I must be paying for many sins. There were reasons why Si-eun wasn't religious.

He quickly glanced down at a bag of deliveries and then looked up at Soo-ho. With that big red helmet, surprised eyes, and slightly open mouth, he looked different from his usual confident persona, with a noticeable presence; he looked adorable, like a confused pup.

What is wrong with me? Si-eun managed not to shake his head.

“I didn't order food.” He repeated the same thing he had said before opening the door, but Soo-ho was not immediately convinced. For a moment, Si-eun thought that he wasn't willing to leave without a push.

“Hm? Isn't this Unit 902 of Dongbaek’s Apartment’s Building 102?”

Si-eun blinked, looking around.

“This is Building 101.”

Soo-ho picked up the cardboard delivery bag, frowning as he read the address.

"It says it's Building 102." His voice cracked a little, maybe from embarrassment, maybe from disbelief. He looked at Si-eun and shifted his gaze to the ground. Definitely embarrassment. "Well..." Soo-ho cleared his throat, and Si-eun thought this would be the moment they would say goodbye, pretend that none of this had happened, and go back to ignoring each other for the rest of the year. But Soo-ho continued to stand there, blocking any movement with the door. He seemed to be contemplating something when he raised his head and said:

“Hey, buddy. Can I have a glass of water?”

Si-eun couldn't believe his audacity. As it turned out, he was right: he wasn't too keen on leaving just like that.

“Why should I?” Because really, why should he?

Soo-ho wasn't in the mood to argue.

“Please, we are classmates. Don't be like that.” And without the slightest bit of self-consciousness, he walked in without asking permission.

“What?” Si-eun could barely think, everything was happening so fast. He leaned against the wall as Soo-ho passed by, trying to get as far away as possible without much success. Soo-ho kept complaining as if he had every right to do that at Si-eun's front door. At least he was back to normal, the normal Si-eun knew.

“It's just a glass of water.” He was even pouting now, gracefully folding his legs to sit on the step. Soo-ho took off his helmet and a few straight tufts of hair poked out. Si-eun hated how cute he looked like that, all grumpy and cranky like he couldn't take care of himself. As if he needed Si-eun to take care of him instead. "What if I pass out from dehydration? It's your fault then. Seriously, just a glass of water.”

He pointed with his helmet, but he didn't look threatening at all. Even his scent was different, fainter and airier. Looking at him, sitting against the wall of his entrance hall and breathing rapidly, Si-eun thought that he must be very tired.

“Don't just stand there.” He growled again. "I'm about to pass out."

He wasn't about to pass out, but apparently, he had a thing for the dramatics. Against all his will, Si-eun felt a touch of sympathy for Soo-ho and, as if all the other mixed feelings he caused him were not enough, now he was forced to help him with something so basic. Si-eun sighed and dragged himself to the kitchen while Soo-ho continued to complain in the background.

“My voice is getting hoarse too.” He said in a gruff tone that unintentionally raised the hairs on the back of the other boy's neck.

Si-eun tried not to imagine how his voice would sound in other situations, when his alpha had to assume full consciousness. There were only two circumstances in which that could happen: the first referred to moments of imminent danger to the alpha himself or his loved ones, and the second...

He grabbed the water bottle almost violently, then grabbed a mug. His ears felt warm, and he was grateful for his subconscious preference for dark, or in this case, dimly lit places. That way at least Soo-ho wouldn't know he had any effect on him.

But Soo-ho only had one thing in mind: water. Even before Si-eun could pour it into the mug, the boy grabbed the bottle and drank it all at once. Si-eun could only watch the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as the liquid passed down his throat and how Soo-ho looked extremely relieved once it was over. He let out a loud growl, a little hoarse, a little wolfish, and almost like a moan. Si-eun was affronted now; he was sure the red in his cheeks was going to be impossible to hide and he found himself becoming aware of his own sulking expression.

"Seriously, what's your problem?" He asked, fascinated in a way that he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. He could never tell when it came to Ahn Soo-ho.

The alpha looked up, revitalized, and smiled at him, unsettling whatever act of indifference Si-eun still had in him.

“After what happened on Tuesday, I thought we'd never talk again.” Soo-ho commented, still sitting, catching his breath. The way he said it so casually made Si-eun's heart twist uncomfortably. “But here I am, at your house. I guess that's how fate is.”

Si-eun wanted to say that he didn't believe in fate. He wanted to say goodbye, to throw him out of his house and his life as if he'd never met him. He wanted to go back to the days when he had no idea who he was, the days when his scent was nothing more than a curiosity that helped him deal with his stressful routine. He really wanted to end that uncertain and strange relationship once and for all, but instead, as if he had no control over his own body, he asked:

“What did you want to tell me that day?”

He regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Soo-ho cocked his head to the side, slightly furrowing his brows.

“Hm? What? What day?”

Si-eun bit his lower lip. There was no escape this time. He couldn't just say forget it because, from the little time he had spent with Soo-ho, he knew that the boy couldn't simply let it go. He was nosy and assertive and dominant.

Feeling his gaze fixed and the scent of soft leather spiking, Si-eun muttered:

"That day, when you fought with Young-bin…" He began, unable to return Soo-ho's gaze. “You came over to my table and were about to say something before the baseball team guys walked in. Something about what Young-bin was telling me.”

Si-eun didn't know exactly what made him ask that now; It was an inconvenient question for an even more inconvenient situation, one that shouldn't have been happening in the first place. It was like a dream that one forgot the moment one woke up but remembered at the most random times. It was a dream that aroused discomfort, and maybe he would describe Soo-ho like that if he were a little more illogical.

For long seconds, there was only silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the alpha swallow hard, but he thought he could have imagined it. In reality, the reality that was often extremely hard on Si-eun, Soo-ho didn't even remember. Because life always found a way to remind him that he wasn't that important after all. He regretted it again.

But, to his surprise, Soo-ho snorted, looking down at his hands, still holding the empty plastic bottle.

“I wouldn't call that a fight. Young-bin was about to run off with wet pants, that coward.” Soo-ho clucked his tongue and cleared his throat. Si-eun secretly wished he would ignore his question and ask for another glass (bottle) of water. “I was going to tell you not to take what he said seriously. I know you already know this and that you already have your strategies for dealing with Young-bin and the others, I don't mean to belittle you.” He looked up, hunting Si-eun's face, and this time he was rewarded with the boy's melancholic eyes on him. They always looked teary, but now they looked genuinely emotional and the light from the entrance illuminated Si-eun's features almost angelically. Soo-ho felt his throat go dry. “I just wanted to say that it's okay to be an omega, you shouldn't take this as a negative thing.”

Immediately, his expression soured. If Soo-ho didn't care so much about Si-eun's feelings, he would congratulate himself for knowing how to differentiate the slightest nuances that showed changes in that apathetic face. And if he caught the faint scent of roasted coffee and dark bitter chocolate, he didn't mention it.

If there was one thing he quickly understood, it was that an angry Si-eun was scary.

"So you really think I'm an omega?" He asked in a much more menacing tone than necessary.

This is a trap. Soo-ho thought. He left the bottle on the ground and slowly got up as if dealing with a wild animal about to attack, which was not so different from Si-eun at that moment.

“I did not say that.”

“Yes, you did! And you thought of it, in fact, you’re sure of it!” The shorter boy's voice was gradually rising, and Soo-ho, on alpha instinct, was tempted to make him behave by force.

"And why is that bad? What's wrong with thinking you're an omega?”

The way Si-eun looked at him made him want to die. He didn't look angry or upset, he looked downright disgusted.

"You're just like them, aren't you?" He frowned, squinting at Soo-ho, judging him as if he had committed a crime. “Anyone who appears to be merely weaker is already branded as an omega. I don't even get to be a boring beta.” He continued, each word more venomous than the last. Soo-ho was holding the helmet by the strings in his closed fist; his own scent was overpowering his nose and he almost wanted to scream.

“You sound awfully prejudiced for someone so smart.” He snapped through clenched teeth. Si-eun arched his eyebrows in disbelief.

"You’re one to talk! You alphas are always stereotyping omegas. We’re nothing but objects to you!” He sounded a little breathless now, sloppy in the composition of his arguments.

"We? So you know you're an omega?” Soo-ho arched his eyebrows. Si-eun made a gagging noise, red for reasons beyond what Soo-ho would like.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know! And why do you care? We don't even know each other well.” He exploded, speaking louder than he had ever done before. It made him feel stupid and childish and out of control; he, who had always valued reason more than emotion for purely adaptive reasons, for survival. Now Soo-ho was looking at him with a mixture of sadness and anger that made him want to howl.

After that, just sharp silence, more ominous than awkward. And so, Soo-ho put his helmet back on, tightened the ropes, and walked towards the door. Si-eun felt his heart break into a million pieces of glass.

“Thanks, man. I'll get you three water bottles tomorrow.” He mumbled, completely lifeless. Si-eun imagined that he would be saying this with a smile if he hadn't taken out his anger on him, and he felt terrible. "Keep up your studies and see you tomorrow."

Soo-ho got a little confused with the lock on the door but managed to open it by himself. When he was already two feet out of the apartment, he muttered, almost pettily:

"And be good to your mom."

The door closed with more force than necessary. Soo-ho walked away quickly. The security system made its little electronic noise indicating that Si-eun was, once again, completely alone.

He stared at the door for what seemed like hours before he dragged himself back to his room, where a video lecture on the Daedong Law was paused. But for the first time, he saw no point in studying. All he could think about was Soo-ho and the way he went from happy to miserable in just a few seconds, all because of him. In the way his eyes stopped glistening and the dimples in his lips disappeared along with his smile, all, all because of him.

Si-eun knew he was being unfair. He learned from a young age to mask his emotions, to not cause trouble, to remain invisible. Soo-ho defied all of that: he made him feel things he couldn't even name, he physically involved himself in Young-bin's teasing, and most importantly, he saw him . Deep down, Si-eun knew that Soo-ho didn't merely see him as an omega, but he couldn't get it out of his head that Soo-ho was too good to be true; that, at some point, he would let him down as his parents had let him down so many years ago.

He felt his throat constrict, but he refused to cry. That very specific mishap that brought Soo-ho straight to his apartment made him think of fate, as the boy had rightly said. And he hated thinking about things like that, things he had no control over.

Si-eun sat in front of the computer, clicked on the space bar, and even picked up his pen, tapping it against his notebook. But the teacher's words went in one ear and out the other, meaningless. He went to sleep wishing that he would never have to wake up again, sullen and unmotivated. He also caught, vaguely, the scent of coffee in the air, one that had long since been roasted, but he was too downcast to even investigate. He fell asleep with a bitter taste on his tongue and a heavy feeling in his stomach.

Still, when he got to school the next day, he didn't open the curtains.

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN'T IGNORE IT (IF IT'S LOVE)

CHAPTER TWO — BOOKS, COFFEE AND CHOCOLATE

…

The perfect opportunity to destroy Yeon Si-eun came to Young-bin the following week in the form of Oh Beom-seok, a transfer student.

He was a tall and scrawny beta with a plain, dull mop of hair that only made him more boring. He wore round glasses without any stylish frames, adding to his typical nerdy appearance. The only thing that was even remotely interesting was that his voice was very deep, almost like an alpha's, but he didn't use it to his advantage, his shy personality making it bland and monotonous.

Young-bin looked sideways at his friends and they understood it right away. They were getting tired of bullying the same guy, and Yeon Si-eun still needed to be taught a lesson. Besides, that boy was the perfect bait: Young-bin knew exactly the reason behind his abrupt transfer halfway through the second semester. Honestly, Beom-seok was very lucky to be the son of an influential man.

The plan was simple: to approach Beom-seok in a friendly manner, ask pointed questions that would make him realize they had some advantageous information, and invite him to go out with them any day, where he would inevitably become their sidekick. Manipulation took time, but Young-bin was sure that dealing with Beom-seok wouldn't be that difficult; the boy was the perfect mix of awkwardness and inferiority complex — one look was enough to tell.

When the break time bell rang, they went for it. By some random irony, Beom-seok was placed in the seat right next to Si-eun's desk, and Young-bin pretended not to know what he was doing as he sat down on it, staring at his new prey with very interested eyes. Up close, Young-bin could smell a faint scent of orange and coconut oil soap on him, but it was so faint he could only be using scent blockers.

“Oh Beom-seok, was it?”

They started off great. Young-bin cut right to the chase, asking about his old school and if he knew Han Ji-won, who he said was his best friend. Whatever Beom-seok was taking was effective; none of them could detect any change in scent, but the way Beom-seok looked away, blinking uncomfortably, said enough. He denied knowing Ji-won, even said the name was familiar, and Young-bin feigned surprise.

But of course — of course — they had to be interrupted by Yeon Si-eun.

He had the audacity to command Young-bin with that dead fish stare, just like he had in the locker room and right after the accident with Jeong-chan’s shoe . Young-bin refused and he demanded he got off his desk again, picking up his pen and squeezing the tip out. Young-bin almost turned into a wolf right there; he couldn't believe him. What did he intend to do with that fucking pen?

But before Young-bin could do anything, of course — of course — they had to be interrupted by Ahn Soo-ho.

He complained about the noise and asked for silence to go back to sleep. Young-bin could feel from afar that his scent was changing, and he didn't want to go near those scary pheromones again, they made every hair on his body stand on end in pure terror the moment he first smelled them. Soo-ho's sudden protectiveness towards Si-eun only enraged him further; it made him wonder if they had some kind of weird secret relationship, which made him want to kill them both. But he knew, and he hated to know, that he had no chance against Soo-ho; so, out of sheer survival instinct, he walked away, not after saying to Si-eun:

“You better be careful.” He hoped his pheromones were a quarter as effective as Soo-ho's; that would be enough. But Si-eun barely blinked, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened. The red marks on his neck gave Young-bin some much-deserved comfort, the comfort that he could mess with him.

And so, he decided right then and there that he couldn't wait any longer. His actions had to be calculated and precise if he wanted to teach that miserable omega a lesson — because there was nothing else Si-eun could be other than that. But more than anything, he needed to prove himself as an alpha and assert dominance; after all, an insolent omega was challenging him way too easily and way too often.

In that bizarre food chain, Young-bin still wasn't at the top. But he had his contacts, his strategies, and his means of surviving in the jungle. When class ended, he went straight to his cousin, with a very specific question in mind.

His plan didn't really come to fruition until the day of the mock test, and Young-bin wouldn't have it any other way. It was a symbolic, fundamental, almost historic day. He had barely been able to sleep the day before, tossing and turning with the possibilities of what was to come.

If before he planned to strike Si-eun with the drop in his grades, now he intended to do something much worse. Something that had been mulling over in his head ever since he developed that hate-filled obsession when he realized that his biggest academic rival could very well be a male omega. And a late bloomer, at that!

He didn't meet Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon for a smoke before class like he always did, and he didn't stop to have a look at the girls' school that was on the way to Byeoksan either. No, he made a beeline to his seat in the right corner of the room, specially designated for that mock test day, and looked for Beom-seok. The universe really seemed to be conspiring in his favor: the beta was sitting right behind Si-eun, in the most perfect place possible. He didn't even notice that Soo-ho was sleeping in the chair in front of his target's seat; he had a one-track mind. 

“Hey, Beom-seok, our teacher wants to see you.”

The boy looked at him, startled and a little skeptical. It was obvious that he had his suspicions about Young-bin, but that didn't bother him at all; it was, in a way, an implied part of his plan, maybe even excited him more.

“What?”

“Our homeroom teacher wants to see you.”

He went to the door, indicating that he would take him there. Beom-seok didn't hesitate to follow him, as Young-bin already expected. He had rehearsed and recreated the conversation they were about to have over seventy times in his head. In his wild imagination, he threatened Beom-seok in the worst ways, from physical aggression to torturous mind games; he had calculated every possible reaction — what to do in case Beom-seok refused, what to do in case he only pretended to cooperate, what to do in case something went wrong during the execution. He had all sorts of backup plans; he also had screamed, cried, begged, and wailed pathetically in his dream state.

But all those alternatives led to only one result: Yeon Si-eun, helpless and pliant, newly presented and perfectly ready for him to take, like a Christmas present he was about to unwrap.

When they reached the hallway, Young-bin was sure Beom-seok knew that the teacher had been just a pretext for something different. He took him to a vending machine and the beta didn't question it, letting him buy him a drink, not knowing it was like a courtesy — after all, he was going to do him a big favor practically for free. Maybe the real payoff was for Young-bin to leave him alone; the alpha knew he could be extremely cruel at times, provocative and cynical most of the time, but he couldn't find in himself any way to change, any flame of compassion.

Maybe he was born that way — wicked, twisted, but so, so determined.

He sat on the bench in front of the windows and took a sip of his drink. Finally, the time had come.

“By the way, it seems like you had some hard times in Mungang.”

Beom-seok looked cornered. He had that look on his face when someone knew something terrible was about to happen but couldn't move. It was somewhat comical how much that popular saying seemed to rule their lives — if you run the beast will catch you, if you stay the beast will eat you. And Young-bin was determined to be the beast, always.

He grinned maniacally as he smelled a citrusy scent in the air, terrified. Beom-seok really wasn't difficult to read.

“I talked to Ji-won yesterday.” He looked down at the floor, trying to hold back his anxiety as his legs moved slightly. He thought he heard the beta swallow hard, almost choking.

“What?” He blurted fearfully. Apparently, scent blockers weren't so effective in unpleasant situations: Beom-seok was now giving off a distinct smell of rotten oranges and expired coconut oil soap. Young-bin would have suffocated if he wasn't so thrilled.

“He said you were beaten and bullied there.”

And just like that, the entire atmosphere changed, gradually reaching its climax in a continuous flash of horror. Beom-seok could see — feel — their hands on him, pulling his hair, punching him in the stomach; he could feel the blood rising like bile to his lips, acidic and metallic, gnawing at his insides as they laughed and kicked and beat him like a rag doll. Having all of that revived in what was supposed to be a fresh start was too cruel, too merciless.

Still, he couldn't move.

"Is that why you transferred here? Like a loser?” Young-bin's voice had lost all its friendly traits. Deep down, Beom-seok knew that he had never been genuine; a boy like him would never approach him without ulterior motives, whatever they were, and they were always very unpleasant. He had the perfect face for a bully as if he'd been sculpted to do the worst in the world masterfully; and in that bizarre food chain, Beom-seok was his prey.

He was shaking now, but he didn't know if it was due to anger, frustration, or fear. Young-bin scoffed at his discomfort. Oh, it's anger, definitely.

“I'm not trying to scare you or anything.” Young-bin continued, and Beom-seok couldn't help but think he was a terrible actor. All of his intentions were as clear as daylight, lacing his words like venom oozing through a snakebite. “I hope we can be friends.”

Now, Beom-seok resented the fact that he had bought half-price scent blockers on a dodgy sale. The hallway was filled with his terrified scent, though the oranges were noticeably sourer, a subtle indication of his disgust, his silent fury.

Young-bin pretended that none of that mattered. “Take a seat.” He patted the surface next to him as if calling a stray.

Beom-seok was aware that, inside of him, there was a repressed (and very well-constructed) desire to return all the abuse he had suffered in double measure. Sometimes he fantasized about a strength he didn't have, a courage he hadn't found and made everyone pay for what they'd done — especially his father, the meanest son of a bitch of all.

He recognized in Young-bin something similar to his father: that friendly facade driven by personal interests, clearly false. It made him want to beat and strangle him, after all, he knew how painful it was. Perhaps, if the two of them got into a fight and if his anger was strong enough, he could even win.

But Beom-seok also had automatic responses to trauma. His main reaction when his father hit him was to be quiet, obey and take whatever he was given. So he wasn't surprised when he did the same with Young-bin, sitting down next to him, rigid as if he might break at any moment, made of glass.

“Aren't you thankful?” Young-bin continued, unaware of his inner conflict; or maybe not, given his scent. “I'm keeping your secret and asking you to be friends.”

Beom-seok felt a strong wave of fury and indignation, sensations that were already there, but suddenly increased. Of course he would blackmail him, somehow trying to put himself in the right. Beom-seok realized then and there that there was nothing he hated more in the world than that sardonic form of manipulation.

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered breathlessly, not quite able to believe how fast things had gone wrong. What the hell do you want from me, Jeon Young-bin?

"Then could you do me a favor?"

There it is.

Young-bin was looking at him with a strange smile that scared him to the bone. He was clearly very euphoric; there was something static in the air, not just in his scent, which seemed to vibrate and emanate from him like electricity. Even though he was terrible at hiding his feelings, Beom-seok couldn't place what that meant.

Finally, Young-bin took a tiny rectangular piece of paper out of his pocket, which looked a lot like an electronic chip. When he adjusted his gaze, he realized it was a sticker.

“What’s this?” Beom-seok asked, curious and not wanting to know at the same time. At this point, he believed he no longer had any choice.

Young-bin let out a breathless laugh. He looked like a kid who was about to go to the mall knowing his mom was going to buy him an amazing toy. He also seemed to know exactly what reaction Beom-seok would have when he found out what was behind that seemingly harmless sticker.

“Take it.” The alpha held out his hand and the beta immediately obeyed; not that his tone allowed for any retaliation. Even though he didn't know what it was, Beom-seok took that sticker with the care of a handler of rare jewels in a museum.

Young-bin thought about not explaining anything. He thought of just saying “Put this on Yeon Si-eun's neck and we'll be even”; the chances of Beom-seok refusing would be lower that way. But he had anticipated every possible scenario, he was a little sleep-deprived and, more than anything, he wanted to know where Beom-seok stood. It wasn't a test of his moral values, but a way of knowing how far Beom-seok would be willing to do horrible things for him as long as the nightmare of his old school didn't happen again. How much he was willing to sell himself for a mere illusion of peace, a respite from the pain that Young-bin could so easily replicate.

So he took from his other pocket a small vial of a strange yellowish liquid. He could see from up close how Beom-seok's eyes widened and he could practically read his mind — a drug? A medicine? A poison?

Well, Young-bin would gladly tell him that it was all of those things at once.

"This right here” He held up the vial, which shimmered hypnotically in the natural light. “is a heat-inducing drug.”

Beom-seok swallowed hard. He didn't like where this was going. Young-bin's eyes sparkled every time he looked at the small glass; it was like a mad scientist with his chemical solution, a sorcerer with his potion.

"I got it from my cousin. He works in the medical field.” The alpha lied. He didn't care whether Beom-seok knew his cousin was a drug dealer or not, but Young-bin liked to lie for the sake of lying. Besides, he was already risking too much by having that compromising conversation in the hallway, he couldn't just say where he'd gotten it from. “He told me some very interesting things about this drug and gave me the heaviest on the market. He's been doing this for a long time, so he has a lot of connections.”

Beom-seok could feel a chill forming at the tip of his spine, but he managed to suppress it. Young-bin was doing it again — that useless talk that foreshadowed a malicious action. He wanted him to get it over with at once, even though all hope he had of focusing on the mock test was gone; he wouldn't be able to concentrate for the rest of the day.

Young-bin shifted his gaze to the sticker on the beta's fingertips, who was trying hard not to tremble. Suddenly, Beom-seok understood.

“I want you to put this on Yeon Si-eun's neck.”

For the second time in that same hour, in that same conversation, Beom-seok felt the ground crumble under his feet. The first thing he felt was a relief; at some point, he came to think that Young-bin wanted to do something to him directly. It didn't cross his mind that he wanted to use him to get at someone else. And then, his eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh! It's the boy who-”

“Yes, the boy who sits next to you every day and who is sitting across from you today.” Young-bin interrupted, looking impatient and obsessed. “You should know his name by now.”

Beom-seok looked intrigued, if not a little perplexed. Young-bin almost sighed.

“Just between us,” He leaned close to the beta's ear, feeling him shiver. “I think he's a male omega. This makes me fascinated, do you know why?”

Because I don't want to see that arrogant look in my direction ever again. Because he thinks he's so amazing to the point of being better than me. Because I want to humiliate him in a way he'll never recover from, a way only an alpha can. Because I want to break his soul. Because I hate him so much.

“Because male omegas are rare” He replied, despite his thoughts. “There hasn't been a single male omega at this school in decades; let's say the last one couldn’t adapt.”

Beom-seok didn't need to ask this time. It was obvious what had happened. He was starting to feel nauseous.

"You can't blame me for wanting to find out, can you? I'm curious.” He said in a high-pitched, almost amused tone. "But he's taking too long to present. He's one of the oldest in the class, even though he doesn't look like it. He should’ve been one of the first, but he has not presented himself yet. Isn’t it weird?”

That's definitely not the weirdest thing here. Beom-seok felt like his tongue had been stolen. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he could only absorb everything Young-bin was telling him like a horror story.

“Luckily, I have you to help me out.” He draped his right arm over Beom-seok's shoulders and the scrawny beta flinched almost automatically. Young-bin reveled in that power, indeed. “That sticker has some of that drug in it, and then we'll get to know for sure.”

Beom-seok remained silent, but managed to work up the courage to look Young-bin in the eyes. They told him what he already knew: there was more between the lines.

“My cousin explained to me how this works.” To the beta’s delight, he backed away, taking his arms from around his shoulders. “If he's an omega, under that drug’s influence, he'll manifest in a few minutes. Since it's a strong drug, he will likely experience several symptoms at the same time, and they can be extreme.” Young-bin paused for a moment as if dissociating over his favorite food. “You know, like slick release and stuff.”

His tone of voice, lower and a little more hoarse, indicated that he didn't know about that trait from the biology classes alone. Beom-seok struggled not to frown and judge him with his eyes.

“If he's an alpha, which I highly doubt, he'll be sick, throw up, and even pass out from low blood pressure.” He continued as if all those horrible possibilities were just the weather forecast. He even took a last sip of his drink, savoring the last few drops of gas. “And if he's a beta, well… he might die.”

Beom-seok's heart stopped. It was beating so fast a second before.

Suddenly, it was as if he were holding a gallon of radioactive substance at his fingertips. Given the dangerous scent of dissolving cedarwood right beside him, he didn't doubt that he could, as a beta, actually die.

Young-bin's laughter should have made him feel better, but it didn't.

“I’m just kidding.” The alpha said between intermittent chuckles. This motherfucker is really enjoying himself. Beom-seok really wished he had a gallon to throw in his face, or to hold on to. “The worst that can happen to a beta if they come into contact with a heat-inducing drug in that amount is a comatose state." Wow, that makes me feel so much better, thank you! “Usually they also feel sick, like the alphas, but their bodies are different. You should know, you’re a beta.”

Beom-seok thought that he would rather die than continue that conversation. Young-bin was charming like that. 

“So, all you have to do is put it on Yeon Si-eun's neck. It should be easy since you're sitting right behind him. Can I count on you?”

Young-bin finally fell silent, but that silence was filled with expectations, expectations that he wouldn’t let him break. Beom-seok found himself conflicted between two different tortures, between a sword and a morning star; forcing someone to go into heat, especially the first one, was a horrendous violation in many ways, but what scared him the most was why Young-bin wanted to find out Si-eun's sub-gender so badly. There was something between the lines, something beyond anything he had told him, that made the roots of his hair stand on end; something cold and nauseating, but that Beom-seok already imagined what it was. And, desperate for some sort of confirmation, he asked:

“What do you intend to do to Si-eun if he turns out to be an omega?”

Young-bin's eyes darkened, and he almost regretted asking. Even with his dark brown irises, his pupils were visibly dilated, obvious in his unhealthy desire. The alpha's scent had changed significantly, taking on a wetter form, but also smoky, as if someone were trying to put out a fire with water. He was irritated, he was ecstatic, and precisely because of that he clenched his jaw and answered him between his teeth:

“Nothing you need to know.”

But Beom-seok knew, and that was the problem.

There was no plausible reason to make Si-eun present by drug induction in the middle of a classroom — of a mock test — that wasn't as inhumane as possible. In many ways, Young-bin was much like an animal, living up to his ancestors in the most abominable way. There was nothing human about the way his fangs showed in his malevolent grins, in his territorialistic ways, in his desire to claim something that was certainly not his, neither by merit nor by nature.

“Think of it this way…” Young-bin continued, his patience wearing thin. He looked incredibly dangerous now, like a wolf about to jump on a reckless hunter. "We'll be doing him a favor. The closer to the national exam he presents himself, the worse. Sometimes it's better to control your body than to let it control you.”

The beta wanted to scream with such irony. Young-bin was not only an obnoxious person and a mediocre actor, but also the master of contradictions. He wondered if that was deliberate sarcasm or if he was genuinely delusional.

"Are you going to do it or not?" He asked, his quiet, stern tone indicating this was the last call. Whatever decision came to be, would be the final one.

Beom-seok thought about refusing.

That would obviously be the right thing to do. There, being asked to do the dirty work of what appeared to be a finely articulated plan, he remembered his first day at that school, that very same week. He remembered the way Young-bin didn't hesitate to tease and threaten Si-eun, even invading his space; remembered the way he cowered after an alpha asked for silence and remembered, especially, the red marks on Si-eun's neck, who seemed to be dead inside.

Now, there was no doubt in his mind that those marks were Young-bin's work, and that he intended to do more of their kind, in other places and with even more brutal violence.

Beom-seok thought about refusing. He really did. 

But that conversation — that intimidation — was like a reminder, in a way. He didn't have the luxury of seeing life through the lens of what was right or wrong; he was constantly abused for things that weren't even his fault. Against all his remaining compassion, he remembered the agonizing pain of being so cruelly humiliated, of having his dignity exposed to dogs who had torn it apart with their teeth and spat on the floor, where he was unable to move for eternal minutes. Han Ji-won and Jeon Young-bin were two birds of a feather, and he knew what would happen if he refused; he might not even come back alive, and if he did, he would be killed by his father.

He couldn't risk ending it all so soon, couldn't risk the rage of alphas with three times his strength. All he could do was survive; it was all his body claimed for, all that was required of him in this terrible jungle. It was a simple philosophy: survival of the strongest, the smartest, or the most willing to turn off their humanity.

And then, shaking from head to toe, but determined to get it over with, Beom-seok looked Young-bin deep in the eyes and said:

“Yes. I’ll do it”

Young-bin broke into a huge smile; evil, dark, nauseating, and with way too many teeth.

Soo-ho was sitting right in front of him.

The seat locations of the mock test were changed in all its applications. Si-eun had already sat at the front, at the right corner, at the back, at the left corner, near the door, and near the window. But now he was somewhere in between, not too far in the middle, not too far forward, but closer to the door than he would have liked.

And Soo-ho was right there, sleeping, an arm's length away and with the calmest scent in the world, immaculate.

He wanted to reach out, touch his shoulder gently, tell him he'd overreacted, that he was sorry. Si-eun couldn't remember the last time he apologized, couldn't remember the last time he got involved with someone else to such an extent. It seemed cruel that he should be placed so close, like a temptation for a sinner. Si-eun was starting to hate the content of his thoughts more and more.

Ever since their argument in his apartment, he'd been alternating between will and pride; the will to talk to Soo-ho and the pride that kept him from doing so. It was emotionally draining but, in return, he had given everything into his studies to distract himself — he was sure that this would be his best grade.

It was no surprise that Si-eun had let pride win, over and over again, and always would. So he ignored every urge to talk to the boy in front of him and selfishly took advantage of his relaxing scent to help him concentrate. He tried to erase the most insignificant thoughts — is he really sleeping or is he just resting his eyes? Is he dreaming of something? Is that why his smell keeps alternating in intensity? — and focused on his textbook. Anyone who looked at him would not have imagined his mental dichotomy, his unresolved dilemma.

Even with the maximum of his concentration, Si-eun was not immune to the outside world, even if he wished to be. He could, in his fuzzy attention state of mind, hear Young-bin call the new kid behind him, Oh Beom-seok, out of the room. A distant, selfish part of Si-eun thought that finally, Young-bin had gotten himself another pet and he would be left alone — spoiled children really got bored of their toys quickly. While part of him felt sorry for Beom-seok, he couldn't care enough to feel compassion; he just wanted to remain invisible and undetected, where he could study without further worries. And if someone else had to suffer in his place, then that's how it would be.

The minutes passed and the room gradually filled up. When the bell for class rang, everyone became even more agitated; the clatter of papers and pens in frantic contact, the scattered voices, the messy and strong scents. Si-eun only took his eyes off his material when the teacher arrived, solely identified by the noise of her pointy shoes against the ground. When she left the big pile of tests on the table and started explaining the same old protocol, Soo-ho lifted his head from his pillow, stretching like it was a Sunday morning.

Si-eun wanted to lend him some of his academic neurosis to balance things out, he wanted to see what was going on inside that head that always seemed so hollow, at the same time that he didn't want to have any kind of contact with him. As if aware of his agonies, but indifferent to their effects, the teacher began to distribute the mock tests, wishing good luck in a robotic way for each passing table.

When the bell rang again, everyone started.

The first questions were relatively simple, although one or two needed more attention and more work in the calculation process. Si-eun decided to skip a few and take a look at the different categories; he was happy to see that it had two questions about the Daedong Law — although he associated it with less than pleasant feelings — and he found the answer right away. The history questions, especially those related to the Korean War, were very long and caused some confusion, but Si-eun was able to understand them only by the wording, also using the exclusion method. When he returned to the math section, he went straight after the quadratic equations, identifying the characteristics of the graphs. He had several strategies; that intellectual pressure had, at some point, become his comfort zone.

They were 15 minutes into the mock test when he felt a strong slap on his neck.

Si-eun dropped his pen, trying not to scream, not to turn the table over and make a fuss. He took a deep breath, unblinking, and turned slowly to face the bloody son of a bitch who had interrupted his entire train of thought. If I get even one question wrong, I'm going to kill someone. It doesn't matter who.

Behind him, Oh Beom-seok seemed to shudder from head to toe at the intensity of his gaze. Si-eun could sense an unusually sour citrusy scent in the air and only then did he associate the beta with a smell. There, sheepish and totally out of place, Si-eun thought he had a very punchable face.

“There was a fly.” He muttered, but Si-eun didn't believe him even for a second. There was something odd about the way his movement was so precise and the way he carried himself afterward as if he'd committed an atrocity in the heat of the moment. Si-eun wanted to grab his glasses, break them in half and return them as if he had done him a favor.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The teacher signed, staring at them with arched eyebrows. He let out a long breath, again. “Turn around!”

So he did. Si-eun felt like he was balancing a fine line between madness and sanity, between his violent impulses and his adaptive monotony. However, he had no choice but to continue answering questions automatically as he had trained so hard to do.

He took one, two, three breaths and finally focused again. He finished the math section faster than expected and moved on to the physics-related part. But after a while, his vision started to blur.

At first, the question statements became suddenly blurred, as if they were wet and in fresh paint. The words began to scramble and Si-eun thought, terrified, that he had acquired dyslexia overnight. The room grew very hot very quickly, and he felt several rivulets of sweat run down his spine, bringing with them a strange feeling in his stomach, a thermal shock that contrasted the cold interior with the warm exterior. It didn't take long for a severe headache to set in, the kind that makes one’s head throb like it's going to explode. Si-eun's mouth went dry and he felt chills that made his abdomen contract painfully. The hand that held his pen let it escape, sweaty, shaking; it hit the floor with a deafening thud, which echoed through his ears in a macabre echo.

He tried to get up, but found out the hard way that his body was too heavy, his legs weak and shaky. Only then did he manage to register an extreme cramp just below his abdomen, which made him bend over the table, holding on tight as if he were in a small boat on the high seas. Si-eun gulped and clenched his jaw; had it been something he ate that morning? Had the cereal expired? Was the milk out of date? His vision was no longer merely blurred, it was also spinning; his ears started ringing and he could hear the guys around him saying something, but he couldn't understand them.

Si-eun tried to take a deep breath again, as he had done the other times he felt sick. It was a rather lame attempt at trying to keep himself in control of his body and stop himself from vomiting, but he had never been particularly lucky in physical matters. At that moment, his throat was shut and his chest felt compressed and tight as if his lungs had shrunk to the size of two peanuts. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his own heart, desperate to deliver blood and keep him alive in that desperate situation.

Alive. Alive. Am I finally going to die?

Suddenly, he was revisited by the smell of coffee he had been smelling for a week or so. That scent seemed to follow him almost sneakily, like a secret admirer determined to discover everything about the object of their affections. Occasionally, it was accompanied by a sweet scent, which he soon identified as milk chocolate, the kind his mother always told him caused diabetes. Si-eun wasn't interested in that scent as he had been interested in Soo-ho's, — after all, there was nothing extraordinary about such common smells, typical of cafeterias — but he started to find a strange comfort in the smell of the new books from the school library and even from the little English books he read to study.

Still, he hadn't imagined that these smells would appear so strongly, so abruptly. Like a haunting, he was enraptured by all of them, but in particular, the chocolate coffee that spread across the room like a tear gas grenade.

Si-eun tried to get up again, and this time he succeeded. He just needed to get out for a little bit, go to the bathroom, get some air, and come back. But that movement alone was a strain and caused more dizzying pain than he thought he could handle. That punctual and sharp pain in his belly only got worse. He could hear several parallel conversations, some voices louder than others, but nothing made sense; like the blurs of the written words, the spoken ones also looked like a great jumble of sounds. Si-eun was underwater, slowly drowning, desperate for some air — and when he tried to take a step forward, he felt it.

Running down his legs, coming out of a place between his thighs, was a transparent, slick-like liquid that reached his feet, decorating the floor like a waterfall of tears.

And, once again, the world reacted around him.

Some boys got up, moving away as if Si-eun had a very rare contagious disease. That liquid seemed to relieve some of the pressure in his body and his head cleared a little bit; he still couldn't comprehend what was going on, but he knew the whole room was in chaos. Some were yelling, pointing at him, and others were staring at him with looks that ranged from surprise to disgust. The teacher was a distant shrill voice in the background, a dull attempt at control, and Si-eun could make out, for the first time in what seemed like hours of hellish suffering, the word presenting.

He lifted a very heavy hand to the sweaty collar of his shirt. This couldn't be happening. No, he refused. His fingers found a strange texture on his neck.

There, right next to his scent gland — open, swollen, painful, red — was a small sticker, practically the color of his skin.

Si-eun felt the world stop. As if an apple had fallen right on his head, he understood. It all seemed so obvious now.

The way Young-bin called Beom-seok to talk, bossy and direct. The way they left the room quickly and with purpose. The way they didn't come back until the room was full again, seconds before the first bell rang. All that was thoroughly calculated. Everything had conspired for that moment. Everything was so obvious. Young-bin was so obvious.

Si-eun took the sticker off his neck, gingerly holding it between his fingers. Tears filled his eyes — tears of sadness, humiliation, indignation, but mostly of rage, pure and inconsequential, directed at just one person.

He turned to Young-bin, who had the most amazed look on his face and a fearsome smile, with pointed fangs.

“You…" He murmured. Young-bin shuddered as if he had been struck by lightning. “You did this to me.”

His wolfish grin widened, gracing hideous dimples on his face, making him look like a salivating monster. That was all the confirmation needed.

On October 13th, a Friday, in the middle of an important mock test, Yeon Si-eun presented his sub-gender, against nature’s timing. But Yeon Si-eun was, as nature would have it one way or another, an omega.

What happened next was a blur; too fast and too slow at the same time.

“What a horrible time to present, what a shame!” Young-bin’s voice jumped out amongst the others, performative and rehearsed like a stage play line. “Ms. Lee, someone needs to take care of him.” He went on, addressing the teacher already knowing she wouldn't have any meaningful reaction. She was just standing there, horrified, as if she'd just witnessed a murder. “He won't be able to continue the mock test like this!”

Si-eun felt like he was going to faint. There was a lot of noise, a lot of despair in the air, almost apocalyptic chaos. The contrast of aromas was no longer noticeable; everything smelled of coffee and chocolate, bitter as if they had been brewed with salt and pepper.

“I can take him to the infirmary.” Young-bin continued, attentive as he had never been before, almost silly in his undisguised eagerness. Si-eun bit his cheek so hard that blood came out. He did all of this. He did this to me and he wants to come out as a hero?

The teacher just nodded, not knowing what to do. When was the last time an omega had set foot in that school? Was there a specific way to deal with omegas in that state?

Young-bin seemed to know; or at least very willing to help in any way.

“Let's go, then. We don't want to waste time.” He strutted toward Si-eun, walking over to Si-eun's table with a haste that belied his calm facade.

With that, the room was quickly filled with an overpowering aroma of burning paper, as if the library was on fire. Si-eun had the eyes of a fallen angel when he met Young-bin's gaze, and for the first time, he felt like he'd found the window to someone's soul: a soul that wanted to see him lying dead on the ground, bleeding all over by the force of his bites, with the marks of his teeth evidencing a heinous crime.

Young-bin got closer and closer. His scent of paprika and cedarwood was bubbling around him like boiling oil; he looked villainous.

Si-eun backed away as much as he could and grabbed his pencil case. He wouldn't be able to crouch down to pick up his pen without falling over, and he wouldn't be able to get a book out of his bag either, but he wouldn't let Young-bin take it. Whatever he wanted to do, Si-eun wouldn't give up without a fight; in fact, an ominously large part of him wanted a fight. It wanted to break Young-bin's face so that it was deformed beyond recognition; it wanted to paint the walls with his blood, dark and vivid red, with its charred metallic smell reminiscent of the death of a forest.

It wanted to choke him with the curtains and hit him with the heaviest book in the whole room, it wanted to throw his body out the window. Si-eun was burning now, burning inside and out, like melted chocolate sticking to a glass bowl.

Young-bin reached out to grab him, his gaze was now completely non-performative in its sick rage. Si-eun gritted his teeth and screamed, feeling his fangs pop out for the first time. It was then that he realized that he wanted to bite him, with the intention of ripping one of his limbs off; with the intention of killing him — it was a mutual intention, after all.

Unconditional Reflex. If something suddenly shows up, you unconsciously close your eyes. It is an instinctive reaction to a stimulus.

Si-eun raised his pencil case, about to throw it right in the face of that damn alpha, ready to jump on him and rip his ears. They were so close, until Young-bin let out a high-pitched, hysterical wail, long and painful. Like a wolf dying after one last howl, he crouched down, shaking hands clasped between his pants.

Si-eun then felt a soft wind that passed through him like a speedrun, bringing with it the scent of burning pines. The world began to spin around him again; he felt like he was going to throw up.

With his vision blurred, he could only make out silhouettes and a repetitive noise of blows, loud cries, and kicks worthy of a horror movie. The entire class was in shock, babbling in disbelief.

There, in front of everyone in that classroom that seemed to be the center of the universe, Ahn Soo-ho was kicking Jeon Young-bin between the legs. Repeatedly.

“You…” A kick. “Fucking…” Another kick. “Son of a bitch…” One more. Young-bin didn't seem to have the strength to scream anymore. “I should leave you infertile.”

He didn't seem willing to stop. The teacher ran out the door, and Si-eun couldn't hear more than her desperate calls for some higher authority. But he doubted anyone could arrive in time to stop the worst. That violence was almost poetic; an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, sub-gender for sub-gender, right in the knot. 

"How dare you come near him as if you were going to help him? Nobody believes that.” Soo-ho grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Young-bin was almost passed out on the floor, agonizing in a way that his face looked ready to burst, so red, wet with tears, and with prominent veins. “You’re not an alpha. You're not even a wolf. You're a fucking leech, crawling around and draining everyone up. And you’re…” He punched him. Young-bin's head hit the ground and bounced back on impact. That brutal and explicit noise made the room react in horror, a haunting chorus of fear. “Definitely…” Another punch. “Not human.” And another.

Si-eun lost count of how many punches were thrown. Young-bin's neck could barely support his own head, now melted red like candle wax. Si-eun felt a strange mixture of wanting to be in Soo-ho's place and wanting it all to stop.

Young-bin spat, choking on his blood. Soo-ho's shirt, ironically, was a vivid red that was still painted with the result of his brutality. He let go of the collar of the other boy’s uniform, practically ripped from the force of his fist, and Young-bin's body fell almost dead to the ground, if not for his pitiful attempt to breathe.

“Ya!” One of Young-bin's sidekicks called after him, gritting his teeth with the violence of his trembling body. Jeong-chan lunged at Soo-ho, making him stagger backward, getting off of Young-bin. He raised his fist to fight back, taking advantage of Soo-ho's measly seconds of weakness, but he wasn't fast enough; the alpha kneed him in the gut and threw him away. He had arrived too late; too late to save Young-bin, too late to escape Soo-ho's white-hot fury.

When the alpha got up, he went to the beta, who was crouched, clutching his stomach, and punched him three times in a row on the chin. He landed with a loud thud on the floor and was left there, whimpering like a dying mutt. Si-eun couldn't believe his eyes; he was convinced that that was nothing more than a bizarre dream sequence. Surely Soo-ho — the calm, collected Soo-ho — wouldn't freak out like that, would he?

But the scent of burning pine trees and ardent leather only increased, contrasting with the bittersweet smell that rose from his scent gland. Si-eun had never felt so protected and so terrified at the same time, it was a bizarre feeling.

His vision, which blurred and cleared alternatively, managed to make out the silhouette of someone crouching next to Young-bin, trying to drag him away. Soo-ho's voice echoed like a death sentence through the room, loud, fierce, commanding; he was enraged in a way that made the hairs all over Si-eun's body stand on end. When his vision finally adjusted, he could see him kicking Tae-hoon right in his face, causing him to collide with his head on the edge of a table. He fainted instantly, not far from Young-bin.

And then, dead silence.

Soo-ho composed himself slowly, menacingly. His fists were stained with blood, red and purple, blood that Si-eun wasn't sure was just Young-bin’s and his sidekicks’. When Soo-ho turned towards him, he didn't seem to carry an ounce of remorse within him. The irises of his eyes were almost red, his face stained with a fierce hatred never seen before; he had succumbed to his animalistic side, wolfish.

The alpha took a few deep breaths, turning away from Si-eun. He shrugged and checked his shirt. Then he looked around the room — everyone was huddled in the corners, terrified. His gaze landed for long seconds on Beom-seok's desolate face. Seeing Soo-ho there, deadly and brutal, staring at him intently, the beta almost succumbed to despair and begged on his knees for his life. If before he thought he was escaping a beating, now he was sure he had gotten himself into a much bigger mess.

By all means, Yeon Si-eun was someone precious to Ahn Soo-ho. Young-bin had picked the wrong person to mess with, and so had Beom-seok.

But Soo-ho didn't go any further. He merely swallowed, as if trying to calm himself in vain. Finally, he looked straight into Si-eun's eyes and said, in that dominant voice:

“Grab your things. We need to get out of here, now.”

Si-eun could only move backward, leaning on the table with trembling hands. He could feel everyone's eyes on the two of them, blinking, unresponsive.

“What?” He murmured, but the sound didn't come out. Soo-ho arched his eyebrows. “ We?”

Soo-ho seemed to have realized something in those few seconds; when Si-eun noticed, he was picking up his backpack, putting his pencil case inside it, and picking up his own things in the process.

“Yes, we.” He went to Si-eun and took his hand, unbalancing him a little. His touch was icy and warm at the same time, metallic with the texture of blood, sending a shock wave through Si-eun's body. "Can you walk?"

But it was a rhetorical question; before Si-eun could even answer, he was already being pulled to the door, walking with trembling legs, but quickly tried to adapt to the frantic pace of the boy in front of him. Si-eun felt like he was floating, both in body and mind.

When they got to the door, Soo-ho stopped.

"I'll take him to the infirmary." He said to the class like a judge before an assembly pronouncing the verdict. His voice was somehow even deeper than before, a little husky, sounding quite possessive. Si-eun soon realized that he was using the tone that alphas usually used when they wanted to impose themselves in a certain aversive situation. He swallowed hard, feeling that slick liquid build up.

Soo-ho, not entirely unaware of the omega beside him, gave Young-bin and the other two bodies on the ground a very angry stare.

"When they ask who did this to them, tell them it was me."

He looped Si-eun's arm around his, turned, and walked away, dragging him down the hall.

Si-eun's head was racing, throbbing with the absurd amount of information that had been thrown at him in such a short time. He still had the small sticker between his fingers — forensic evidence, a crime weapon — and he had no idea what was going to happen to Young-bin from then on. He also had no idea what would happen to him, but he did know one thing: Soo-ho's scent was no longer so calming. In fact, he wanted to get away from him as soon as possible while he remained in that violent and reckless state.

When they got close to the stairs, Si-eun shoved him off in a drastic push. Soo-ho immediately turned around in reflex, startled.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Si-eun snapped, so irritated that his voice took on a high pitch. Soo-ho frowned, looking at him like he was completely insane. Si-eun almost wanted to laugh in his face. You’re one to talk.

“Doing what?” He asked impatiently. His eyes were wide, scolding. His tone indicated a warning.

“Every time I try to defend myself against Young-bin, you show up. It's the second time you've stopped me from fighting back.” Si-eun tried to prove a point, but his voice was as breathless as it had been that night in his apartment. Maybe he wasn't very good at arguing with Soo-ho. “I can take care of myself.”

"I know that, dammit!" Soo-ho sounded exasperated, even a little desperate. He raised his hands to his face, about to rub his temples, but only then did he realize the bloody state of his own fingers. He swallowed hard; perhaps he had exaggerated a bit.

When he turned to face Si-eun again, he was looking at him with red eyes. His face was swollen, his neck almost raw from the force of his manifestation. He still had that sticker on his fingertips. His scent was still sweet and bitter at the same time, heralding his violation to the world. The way Young-bin had looked at him…

Soo-ho curled his hands into fists. No, he hadn't exaggerated in the slightest.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m not sure if you noticed, you're in no condition to… OW!” Soo-ho yelled, quickly covering his left arm, now punctually sore. “Why did you hit me?” His voice came out in an incredulous squeak. Si-eun had an unnaturally strong punch for someone who should barely be able to stand.

The omega, in turn, although with a frown and red cheeks, looked very proud. "You felt that, didn't you?"

Soo-ho was practically foaming at the mouth. What a stubborn kid. And a cocky one, at that.

“There’s not much you can do now.” Soo-ho mumbled, trying not to roll his eyes. He looked away into the hallway and could feel Si-eun's anger piercing his face like a laser, but they seemed to have drawn far more attention than they were even able to realize.

Most of the students in their class were clustered in front of the door, staring at them as if the two were exotic zoo animals, waiting to see what their next reactions would be. The other classrooms weren't left out either; everyone had heard the startled screams that signaled that yet another student had presented himself, Young-bin's pained howls, the grotesque clatter of skins colliding with fists. But more than anything, the smell of burning books and the bittersweet aroma of coffee and chocolate had spread across that entire floor like a warning: after all this time, an omega.

“You can fight back later. We need to get out of here, it's not safe.” Soo-ho's brain, which he could no longer tell if belonged to him or his alpha, was screaming in agony. All he could think about was protecting Si-eun, and all the other wolves were threats. There was only one omega in the entire school, after all; an omega about to come into heat, with lots of alphas and betas around.

He held out his arm for Si-eun to lean on, but the boy didn't move a muscle. Soo-ho was about to question him — command him, perhaps; he was desperate — when Ms. Lee finally returned with the other teachers hot on her heels.

"Ahn Soo-ho!" She called him with a cracked and high-pitched voice. Soo-ho almost growled at her; that incompetent beta had let Young-bin take Si-eun with him as if it wasn't obvious that he had something to do with that abrupt manifestation. He took a few deep breaths. “What are you doing?”

Si-eun turned around, only now realizing the commotion caused by that whole fiasco. That mock test would certainly have to be rescheduled. Alongside the teachers stood the school principal, a tall, gray-haired alpha who looked extremely uncomfortable but didn't seem to have the slightest will to interfere. Si-eun felt Soo-ho exhale through his nose like an angry bull. His scent was getting stronger, and not in a good way.

“I'm taking him to the infirmary.” He replied, obviously irritated, almost spitting in their direction. Ms. Lee arched her brows in dismay.

“That's not the way to the infirmary.”

Soo-ho scoffed. Is that so?

“Oh well.” He muttered, already completely out of his mind. They needed to get out of there at that very instant or else he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. “I lied. I'm taking him home.”

“What?” The teacher and the students exclaimed in unison. Si-eun blinked, and then widened his eyes.

“What?” He asked a second later. Soo-ho didn't have any drop of patience left. He took Si-eun's hand and went down the stairs. "Wait, Soo-ho…!" Feeling the resistance of the omega, Soo-ho was forced to take drastic measures. He reached down, picked up the smaller boy by the waist, and threw him over his shoulder, against all his protests. “ Ah! Soo-ho! Get off me!” He tried to free himself, but Soo-ho was already going down the stairs with him on his shoulders and their backpacks on his back. Si-eun's ears buzzed heavily with the vertigo of the movement, and he remembered that he was still releasing slick. He felt so ashamed that he wanted to die.

"Ahn Soo-ho!" Ms. Lee’s voice was like a distant echo amidst the babbling chaos of dozens of students. "You can't leave after what you did to your classmates!" She tried to approach them, but they were already miles away. She stopped halfway up the stairs, red from running and screaming. "This will have serious consequences!"

Soo-ho snarled, baring his fangs, but didn't turn around. A little more and they would reach his motorcycle. He wouldn't give her another second of his time.

"I really hope so!"

They were off the school grounds within minutes. When Soo-ho finally put Si-eun down, it was only to sit him on the back of his motorcycle and put his helmet on him; that red helmet that was infested with the scent of Soo-ho, the peaceful breeze of the pine trees and the soft leather. Si-eun almost cried with relief, but he couldn't express himself anymore. His head ached so badly, every cell in his body was screaming in exhaustion, his arms were tingling, his legs were gradually losing sensation. Oh, dying would be so much easier.

But then, Soo-ho sat in front of him and started the motorcycle. The vibration it caused was almost comforting.

“Hold on tight to me. We’re leaving.”

Si-eun barely managed to cling to his jacket. Soo-ho eventually looped his arms under his torso and pinned them there. They took off far beyond the allowed speed, making reality around them a mere flash of light. Si-eun closed his eyes and allowed himself to lose consciousness.

Soo-ho was worried. Very, very worried.

At some point during the ride, Si-eun's body collapsed on top of his, heavy and shaking with chills. Soo-ho couldn't even feel his breath; it was as if he had died right there. He squeezed Si-eun's arms with all his strength as he held on to the motorcycle's handlebars, accelerating and dodging traffic as much as possible. He could feel his own heart beating violently against his chest as if it was going to break his ribs and go out jumping to Si-eun's apartment, where he could finally have some peace, with the omega sheltered.

I need to get him somewhere safe. It was all he could think of, and it was kind of ironic; he had spent the entire previous week recreating that scenario in Si-eun's entrance hall, regretting having said what he said, regretting having asked for a glass of water, cursing all the steps he had taken to get there, without knowing what awaited him. But now, he was grateful — now, he knew exactly where Si-eun was supposed to stay, away from the prying eyes of other students and the school's incompetent protocols. Soo-ho doubted the infirmary had anything that could help an omega out; leaving him there any longer would be just another form of torture.

And so, with the fresh memory of Si-eun in his natural, dimly lit habitat, he continued forward. They arrived at Dongbaek’s Apartment Building in record time.

Soo-ho slammed on the brakes and didn't even pay attention to where he was parking. He took a frantic leap out of the seat and had to hold Si-eun so he wouldn't fall forward. His body was heavy, heavier than he remembered carrying it, and Soo-ho found himself panicking.

“Si-eun-ah!” “He called him. The boy's face was covered by the helmet, but Soo-ho could still see the pained expression with which he had found his unconscious state. He quickly took off that almost offensive piece, practically throwing it to the ground. “Si-eun-ah, we're in your building, we just need to go upstairs.”

Si-eun's face was sweaty and cold, unresponsive. But when Soo-ho placed his face between his palms, stroking his cheeks, his eyelids fluttered and his brows lifted from his frown, ever so slightly. Slowly, as if it hurt him deeply, he opened his eyes.

“Si-eun!” Soo-ho exclaimed in an odd combination of wonder and sadness. But the nine-thirty sunlight was apparently too strong; Si-eun closed his eyes in reflex immediately after opening them. Soo-ho had to repeat himself. “Let's go upstairs.”

Si-eun took a deep breath for what felt like the first time in hours. The smell of coffee and chocolate was no longer so bitter, and he could vaguely sense the smell of new books; but he felt impossibly sticky, attached to Soo-ho's motorcycle like glue. His throat was dry and hoarse as he muttered:

“Can’t.”

Soo-ho nodded and swallowed hard. He seemed to be giving himself an internal pep talk, swinging his arms, and taking deep breaths.

“Alright. Guess you’ll have to hold on to me again.”

The trip to the apartment was a survival test. Si-eun could be stubborn even half-consciously, refusing to be carried by Soo-ho "like a bride" or, as he put it through clenched teeth, "like a potato sack". All those complaints came slurred, but Soo-ho could understand Si-eun's frustration as if it were second nature. In the end, the omega leaned on the alpha's shoulders until the two reached the front of his apartment, where he ended up collapsing against the door, with a difficulty breathing similar to what he had recently felt in the P.E. class, but much, much worse. 

"Si-eun," Soo-ho called him again, out of breath but still standing. He was unconsciously shielding the omega from the outside light and hoping the neighbors wouldn't pick up on that strong combination of smells. He dropped the bags on the floor and started going through Si-eun's items. “I need the key. Can you tell me where the key is?”

There was an anxious tone in his voice, something Si-eun didn't like to hear. He could barely make out Soo-ho's scent amidst his own, but he knew the alpha was under high doses of stress. He already missed his sleepy self from early that morning, even if that version wasn't speaking to him.

“Si-eun-ah!” Soo-ho sounded exasperated now, as if he was suffering as much as Si-eun. "Help me out here, please. Where is the key?”

When Soo-ho looked down, Si-eun was staring at him, breathing hard and breaking out in a cold sweat, but still studying his features as if he were the most interesting thing in the world. Those eyes, now red and watery, were looking at him almost tenderly, exclusively.

Soo-ho was forced to look away, going back to rummaging in his backpack. He could feel his cheeks burning.

"Pocket…" Si-eun mumbled, coughing lightly. “Side pocket.” He sighed. Talking seemed to take an enormous amount of energy out of him. Soo-ho wanted to hug him, kiss his forehead and thank him for the effort, but instead, he found the key and unlocked the door.

"Come on, grab my arm." He instructed and Si-eun even tried to get up, but Soo-ho ended up doing all the work again. With the omega already on his feet, he guided him inside, approaching on instinct a door that was next to the kitchen table. "Is this your room?"

Si-eun nodded weakly. Soo-ho took him there, intending to lay him down, but Si-eun got away from him as soon as they opened the door. As if he didn't recognize his own room, the boy kept looking around, analyzing the environment. He looked at the shelves, the closet, the desk, and finally landed his gaze on the bed, which soon became his biggest point of attention.

Soo-ho kept a close eye on him, close enough to catch him if he fell, far enough away not to suffocate him. Si-eun continued to look at the bed and, after a long minute, he started to nervously tug at the edges of his uniform and let out soft hisses. He brought one of his hands to the back of his neck, not far from his scent gland, and massaged it. His face was contorted; he looked like he was in pain, but more than anything, he looked like he wanted to do something he didn't quite understand what it was. Soo-ho could only watch as Si-eun stared at the bed, his dark pupils dilated, and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

The extremely sweet scent that emanated from Si-eun reached Soo-ho's nostrils like a warning. Si-eun's wolf, an omega, was craving something. And Soo-ho had an idea of what it could be.

"Si-eun…" He murmured, carefully, trying to get him out of his trance as gently as possible. “Are you…?” Is that what I'm thinking it is?

Si-eun took an audible breath as if trying to steal all the air in the room for himself. He didn't even seem to have heard him, lost in an inaccessible place. And then, as if he'd forgotten Soo-ho's presence, he pulled his shirt up by the collar, pulling it off over his head. A second later, with a swiftness totally opposite to his physical state, he got rid of his uniform pants, fumbling with them desperately.

Soo-ho turned away from him, sure that his cheeks were red. He could feel the blood pulsing through his veins. Breathe, Soo-ho, breathe. It was a little ridiculous, actually; they were both men. Still, Soo-ho couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Si-eun frantically opening the closet and taking out various clothes. He let out some grunts and seemed to be handling a fabric, which Soo-ho supposed that he was wearing one of the blouses. He mentally thanked him for it; he didn't know if he could look Si-eun in the eye if he was wearing less than two pieces of clothing. He felt guilty for being there — should he take a walk around the apartment, at least get out of his room? Should he leave? No, that was out of the question, he couldn't just leave him alone-

It was then that Soo-ho heard it. The sound of the mattress creasing, the foot of the bed creaking slightly; the little punches to fluff the pillows, the sound of a sheet or two flapping against the air as they were folded. He could hear Si-eun's heavy breathing as he adjusted the clothes as comfortably as he could while moving from one corner of the bed to the other. He could even sense his frustration, a hint of coffee bitterness in the chocolate, as he became dissatisfied with the result, soon going back to redo whatever was troubling him. And during all of that, he let out the most adorable sounds, from whimpers to light growls.

Soo-ho slowly turned around. Oh. Oh, of course.

Si-eun was making a nest.

Soo-ho looked away quickly, feeling a rush of electricity through his body. All his hair stood on end, and he felt dizzy, weak, maybe a little intrusive. This is fine, everything’s fine, fine and dandy.

The next thing he knew, he was out of the room, looking restlessly for a bathroom; he just needed to wash his face and calm down a bit. He found one at the end of the hall and quickly turned on the faucet; the water was like acid on the wounds on his hands, which he had forgotten in the heat of the moment; in Si-eun's heat, actually.

He felt his ears burn. This is not gonna be easy. He washed his hands and face with a grimace.

Soo-ho returned to the room not even two minutes later, but he seemed to have noticed this separation much more keenly than Si-eun. This time, he didn't dare enter, staying outside the door, waiting for the omega to call him or, at least, give him some kind of implied permission. From what little experience he had with his family's omegas, the nest was a sacred place on days of heat; only the invited ones could see it, only the special ones could enter it. That was a universal truth for everyone of the sub-gender, with Si-eun it would be no different.

But Si-eun was staring at his own nest with a frown. He looked sad and heartbroken as if something very important was missing. And then, he looked straight into Soo-ho's eyes, as if he had never left there in the first place. The alpha felt all the air rush out of his lungs and tried to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Si-eun was looking at him expectantly; sneakily, he shifted his gaze to his torso, staring at his clothes. Suddenly, Soo-ho understood.

“Oh…!” He exclaimed in disbelief. “Do you want me to…?” I can't seem to finish my sentences anymore.

Si-eun didn't answer, he didn't even nod. He just stared at him with that sad, angry look that, in some inexplicable way, made him so enchanting. But when Soo-ho took off his red jacket and approached his bed, the omega shivered, releasing an involuntary sweet scent.

“Alright.” Soo-ho whispered, almost to himself, not trusting his own voice. Just one piece of clothing didn't seem to be enough; Si-eun had that typical pout on his face that made Soo-ho question his moral values. Luckily, he had some belongings in his bag. While he looked for his leather gloves and pink pillow, Soo-ho was revisited by a distant childhood memory: his mother's nest, which he had the privilege of snuggling into a few times, always had various clothes and objects from his father, and it smelled like the two of them.

Soo-ho shook his head and sighed, trying, once again, not to take anything personally. None of that meant anything, he convinced himself. Omegas liked to build their nests with comforting scents and textures, and there was nothing more comforting to an omega in heat than an alpha's belongings. It was common knowledge, nothing special.

Si-eun, on the other hand, seemed to be running on autopilot. Soo-ho suspected that he was acting on pure omega instinct, but he wasn't sure if he had completely succumbed to it yet. When he came back with his things, Si-eun quickly took it all for himself, not disguising the way he greedily inhaled his scent, reveling in the pine forest and the feel of the leather in his hands. He tucked the gloves under his pillow, though not entirely, and positioned the jacket above him, near the headboard. The little pink pillow sat in the corner of the wall, like a decoration, but he didn't seem to like to keep it so distant, and soon he brought it closer, hugging it against his chest. He took one of the blankets, a very thin sheet, and covered himself up to just above the torso, with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Si-eun was able to rest. Now, that intrinsic part of him that had been so troubled before felt at peace. He snuggled into his nest, composed of a pleasant mix of contrasting scents, and closed his eyes, sighing.

It was a strange peace, that one; it was silent contentment with his own pain. His body was limp and lethargic as if it were melting — he had to get those clothes off before they stuck to his skin. But as soon as he did, he had to get dressed up again, albeit with a thin fabric blouse, as the cold air in his apartment was not pleasant on his sweat-soaked skin. Hot and cold at the same time, he was swimming in a thermal shock wave, feeling his body shivering every now and then like electricity. That burning cramp that barely let him stand had now turned into a dull ache that made itself present with acidic tingles. He had grown used to it, almost forgotten about it.

And then, he opened his eyes at once, startled. He had forgotten about something.

He looked away reluctantly. Soo-ho was standing there, staring at him with an expression he couldn't interpret. It was an interested look, to say the least. Curious.

He had been so focused on satisfying his instincts that he hadn't even noticed Soo-ho's presence. With a grimace, Si-eun realized that he didn't remember what had happened from the moment he entered the room until now. He had never had such an incisive memory lapse before.

Arg. He thought in disgust. I guess I really am an omega after all. That notion made him want to scream in rage.

When Si-eun breathed again, he realized that that contrasting scent was the calming and familiar scent of Soo-ho. He could feel the texture of leather gloves against his shoulders, not quite under the pillow. Just above his head, stroking his hair, was the red jacket that Soo-ho had been wearing that morning not so long ago. In his hands, his beloved pink pillow, which was much softer than it looked, and brought Si-eun warm and fuzzy feelings in his stomach.

Oh, right.

Si-eun cleared his throat. "So..." He looked around, doing his best not to return Soo-ho's gaze. The alpha's scent spiked at the sound of his voice. Great, now I'm even more responsive to his scent, like I wasn't before. “I can give these things back to you later."

Soo-ho blinked once, twice. Si-eun didn't say anything.

“Hm? What?" Soo-ho asked, not quite understanding. Si-eun sighed, turning to face him with the most determined expression he could muster. Even with everything that had happened, one thought still prevailed: he refused to be a burden to Soo-ho.

"I promise I'll give you everything back." He continued, ignoring the way Soo-ho's breath caught in his throat. "I'll wash with those stronger soaps that remove scents. You won't even notice that I came close to it" Soo-ho's face was contorting with each word he uttered. “Thank you for bringing me here. Do you remember where you left your motorcycle?"

When Si-eun finished speaking, Soo-ho was staring at him with slightly wide eyes and a clenched jaw, as if he was holding back so he wouldn't lose control — Si-eun knew exactly how that felt. But at that moment, all he could do was question him with his gaze; Wasn't that what he wanted?

Soo-ho took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. His scent calmed down a bit.

"You want me to leave?" He asked, his voice a little hoarse with disappointment. Soo-ho was doing that again: staring at Si-eun as if he wanted to figure him out, as if he expected a specific answer from him, as if he knew what was best for him.

Si-eun frowned. What is he implying? He had no patience for mind games. His heart was starting to race.

"Yes." He replied, simply and straight to the point, though something inside him whimpered at the prospect. Soo-ho's expression didn't change, but his scent told no lies. Si-eun could clearly feel the slightest changes in its composition; he was upset. “You… you want to stay?”

Another round of silence, more dangerous than anxious.

Soo-ho could feel his heart dropping to his stomach like a drop of disappointment. The hairs on the back of Si-eun's neck stood up in warning. The two couldn't seem to understand each other.

"You want to spend your heat alone?" Soo-ho asked, after what seemed like hours of incredulous and passive-aggressive stares. His voice had an understated tone of irritation that Si-eun interpreted as a breach of expectation, and he found himself slowly getting angry.

In Soo-ho's mind, there was a dilemma: how to convince him that this was not the best choice without seeming pretentious? Si-eun doesn't owe you anything, he reminded himself, but still.

“Why are you surprised? I'm always alone." And you are nothing to me, Si-eun wanted to say, but the words didn't feel right. He sounded menacing in his monotony as if he were deciding Soo-ho's fate based on what he said next; a king about to pass judgment on his servant, who had become too greedy. "Do you want to spend my heat with me?"

Soo-ho almost laughed. That scene was familiar. Ah, this is definitely a trap. One that Soo-ho would fall for every time.

"Yes." He replied, simply and straight to the point, without any hesitation. Si-eun slightly widened his eyes in surprise; he was still processing the facts when Soo-ho added. “You can't expect me to leave you alone after everything that's happened."

That didn't seem to be the best choice of words. Soo-ho could see the exact second Si-eun lost it. His smell abruptly worsened — the chocolate became extremely bitter, almost sour; the coffee grew strong and thick and the books burned like the Library of Alexandria. His face was now just a big frown. He was pissed. Soo-ho would be scared if he wasn't so determined to stay by his side; whatever Si-eun threw at him, he would take it.

“I can't believe you came all the way here with that in mind." He snapped through clenched teeth. He shifted until he was fully seated, prepared to get up, and even though the sudden movement caused him to feel dizzy and a painful twinge in his abdomen, he didn't react. "You're a goddamn pervert."

Si-eun struggled to his feet, but the fury emanating from his smaller body made Soo-ho unconsciously back away. He had way too big of a presence for someone who always wanted to be invisible. Soo-ho didn't understand where he was going with those accusations, but he knew they made a lot of sense in Si-eun's genius brain, which only worried him more.

"Did you expect me to simply allow you free access? Based on what? We don't even know each other well." He repeated himself as if Soo-ho needed reminding. Si-eun was dangerously close now, his bitter scent making every hair on the alpha's body stand on end. And then, he put his accusatory pointed finger on Soo-ho's chest and pushed him, his sharp nails almost opening a crescent-shaped wound in the other's heart. "Seriously, what did you think?"

Think? Free access? Pervert? With that in mind? What was he...

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

"Wait, that's not what you're thinking-"

"Did you think I would be grateful to you? That I would make it up to you?" He was even angrier now, somehow. An almost animalistic progression of rage, like when a wolf prepares to attack the prey after long minutes of watching. Soo-ho was like putty in his hands, dissolving.

“I don't want to mate with you or anything like that." He retaliated quickly, panicked. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, but soon all that air was lost again; Si-eun looked like he was about to jump on top of him and rip him to pieces, his normally small eyes wide with fury. Soo-ho had never been so anxious in his life. "I-I mean, I'm not saying it wouldn't be nice to mate with you…" Smooth, Ahn Soo-ho, you idiot. Si-eun arched his eyebrows and he gasped audibly. "I'm just saying that…"

"You're just like them, aren't you?" Si-eun interrupted him, alarm in his tone and fire in his eyes. His scent was suffocating now, making Soo-ho's eyes water; or maybe it was something else entirely. Why does he keep saying that? "You just want something to stick your knot in!"

"What? Of course not!" Soo-ho replied, incredulous. He remembered his thoughts a few days ago, wishing Si-eun was an omega just so he could smell his sweet scent — which he knew now was so, so sweet, with the perfect amount of bitterness — just so that he could be openly affectionate with him without the stupid alpha codes to hold him back, just so he could pet his hair and scent him every now and then, hear him purr adorably and relax in his arms. Not once did he feel the need to mount him like an animal or treat him like a mere sex object. He wanted Si-eun to be an omega purely because omegas were beautiful and magical and soft and Soo-ho thought Si-eun was all of those things and more.

“You started being so nice to me all of a sudden, watching over me like a hawk and now-” Si-eun pushed him for real, knocking him back with small repetitive punches. Soo-ho didn't react, no matter how hurt he was, literally and figuratively speaking. "Now you're in my room when I'm in heat!" Si-eun pushed him harder, towards the door. "Get out, I'll do this on my own."

When Si-eun was about to throw him out, Soo-ho stopped him, holding his arms. That simple touch had him shaking from head to toe, shattering his resolve.

"No! No, please wait, you got it all wrong." Soo-ho looked pained, like he was going to start crying, like he couldn't bear to see Si-eun suffering like he was. There was an air of desperation in the crack of his voice, a palpable, sincere vulnerability that emanated from him from every single inch. That made Si-eun stop in his tracks; the weight of Soo-ho's arms around him shouldn't feel so fucking good. “You're going to suffer a lot if you spend this heat alone, especially since it's your first. Your body will hurt so much that it will be traumatized and every heat after that will be even more unbearable."

Si-eun forced himself not to look away; he couldn't show weakness, even though Soo-ho's hands soothed his tense body tremendously. Soo-ho, who already had a contorted face, frowned even more, his lips almost in a pout.

"Surely you know that, don't you?" He asked, unable to believe otherwise. It wasn't possible that Si-eun had neglected his sub-gender so much that he had no idea how his own body worked. “That's fifth-grade study material, and we even revised it a little earlier in the year."

Si-eun almost snorted. This time he couldn't meet Soo-ho's gaze — so full of emotion, looking at him as if he were the most important thing in the world — and he sighed, taking Soo-ho's arms from around him with a slight shove.

He knew, he just didn't want to admit it. He wished he didn't know, at least that once.

“I'm not here to hurt you, I swear." Soo-ho continued. His voice was low now, small. Si-eun felt a strong pain in his forehead that made him close his eyes; it was like regret and shame. "I won't touch a hair on your body if you don't allow me to."

Si-eun took a deep breath with difficulty, but managed to calm down, feeling the cool breeze that swept through the pine trees. Soo-ho's scent had that effect on him, always had, before he even knew who it belonged to. Now, with a little more sense and a little less trepidation in mind, he couldn't help but feel a little stupid; Logically, he couldn't spend that heat away from Soo-ho even if he wanted to. And, he struggled to admit, a very large part of him didn't want to .

He wanted to wrap himself in a little cocoon of that scent until he forgot all about his problems. He wanted to bask in the warmth that radiated from Soo-ho like a bun in the oven. He wanted to hear his voice until he fell asleep. Hell, Soo-ho's things were in his nest.

Si-eun blushed profusely. Stupid omega brain.

"Can I take you back to bed?" Soo-ho's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Reluctantly, he nodded.

Soo-ho, careful not to touch his feverish skin, tucked him under the covers, making sure he was comfortable. Si-eun felt as if the alpha had read his thoughts; his scent so close, emitting calming pheromones, and the comfortable pressure of his hands adjusting the sheet was almost a taste of heaven. Si-eun felt like screaming at himself; his feelings were all over the place.

"Can I move this pillow around?" Soo-ho asked, feeling his throat go dry. Si-eun's scent turned sweet again; the chocolate, in particular, had a different twist to it. If Soo-ho allowed himself to be self-indulgent he could even say that Si-eun smelled giddy. No matter how much Soo-ho's alpha was screaming inside him for all sorts of reasons, he had to stay calm and careful; an omega's nest was sacred, after all, and he was too close, with his hands above it.

When Si-eun nodded, Soo-ho placed the pillow against his back, in some sort of support, still without touching the other boy. Si-eun could feel the chills coming back, as well as the sharp pain in his belly, which came in stabs.

"Do you want me to put another blanket on top of this one, or it isn't necessary?" Soo-ho continued. Si-eun could tell he was being careful, trying his best not to make him uncomfortable. He was always so respectful, so kind, so present. Even when he was beating those other wolves to a pulp, he looked cool and handsome in his unbalance.

"I'm fine like this." Si-eun's voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat. His belly was hurting.

Soo-ho hummed. He was crouched at the foot of the bed and appeared to be contemplating his next course of action. He thought about meticulously defining his words and his movements, but he couldn't find himself able to maintain that kind of attitude for long. It was when he took a deep breath of the sweet scent of chocolate coffee and new books that he decided to be honest.

“You know, it really hurts me when you say I'm just like them." He commented. His voice came out a little louder than it had been before, just soft murmurs of reassurance, and it sounded foreign to his own ears. Si-eun was no longer angry, but his scent spiked a little. He was staring at him with those melancholic eyes, curious and tired at the same time. Soo-ho dared to stare back at them and felt his breath catch in his throat; those eyes certainly had some sort of sorcery to them, bewitching. “That's very offensive. I hate Young-bin as much as you do. Anyone with the least bit of common sense does. I don't know what I've done to make you think I'm of the same kind as those other alphas."

Si-eun didn't answer him, but he looked down thoughtfully. What made him think like that? Was it the way Soo-ho carried himself, so confident, so untouchable, so obviously alpha in his very essence? Was it the fights Soo-ho got into, many of which were imposed on him? Was it his contrasting ways, protective and nosy, detached and distant at the same time? In a way, Si-eun had never really believed that. Between Young-bin and Soo-ho there was an infinite distance in decent human values, and to compare them would be blasphemy.

But Si-eun couldn't help but feel threatened when his heart responded so strongly to Soo-ho's mere presence; he couldn't help the alertness in his mind when his body reacted to his wonderful scent, when his thoughts strayed from the essential to focus on the most frivolous banalities that concerned the alpha. It was protection from a danger he could not identify; just as Soo-ho made him feel incredible sensations, he also elicited explosive reactions from him. With Soo-ho, he was hot and cold with no ground under his feet. It was easier to compare him to the others — after all, he also speculated about his sub-gender behind his back and made him feel like he needed to be taken care of. It was simpler to categorize him with the rest; maybe that way he could stop thinking of him so fondly.

But that didn't work. It never had.

"Well…" Soo-ho sighed, accepting that he wouldn't get an answer. At least he seemed to have made Si-eun think; he could see the gears turning in his pretty little head. He was still crouched on the floor, hands on his thighs. “Anyway, I'm here to help you. Anything you need, just say the word."

As soon as he said that, Si-eun was harshly reminded of the sharp pain just below his abdomen. The cramp seemed to get worse at random times, peaking intermittently. Now it felt like someone was spinning a knife in his belly or poking his muscles with a metal rod dipped in corrosive acid.

Soo-ho's presence became much more noticeable. He turned his face a little only to find his eyes already on him, watchful. Si-eun looked away again, feeling his cheeks burn for the umpteenth time that day. Fucking hell.

"You…" He began, feeling that enormous difficulty in speaking returning along with shortness of breath and a little headache. I really shouldn't argue with Soo-ho. "Can you… hm…" He struggled. Asking for a favor seemed like a lot of effort for that proud boy. Those words felt terribly embarrassing when spoken in his mind and the situation he found himself in was too humiliating for his standards of self-sufficiency. Still, Soo-ho was looking at him expectantly; Si-eun couldn't help but imagine him with doggy ears, arched and attentive.

Si-eun sighed deeply. It was now or never; better get it over with.

“Canyourubmybellyplease?" he asked in one breath. When he was done, he felt like he'd vomited a bunch of words and pulled a band-aid from a wound.

But Soo-ho didn't even blink. He just kept looking at him with the shadow of an amused smile, the kind that made his cheekbones rise and the little dimples at the corner of his lips appear. Si-eun didn't feel any less embarrassed because of it.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Si-eun felt himself blush even more. This bastard is really gonna make me say it? They could both smell the coffee in the air, strong and bitter.

Well, Soo-ho had warned him that he wouldn't do anything he didn't allow. Which implied that Si-eun would have to allow it. Out loud. Clearly. When this heat is over I'm gonna be dead from embarrassment.

Si-eun took three deep breaths. And then he muttered, almost through clenched teeth:

"Can you rub my belly, please?"

Soo-ho let out a nasal laugh and shook his head slightly, as if he couldn't believe him; but any and all thoughts fled Si-eun's mind when he felt the pressure of Soo-ho's hands over his shirt, right where it hurt the most.

His breath hitched. Soo-ho's touch was soothing in a way that made Si-eun feel light. The pain gradually diminished as he began to move his hand, which almost covered Si-eun's entire abdomen, caressing it as if he were petting a cat. Si-eun felt shivers of an entirely different kind and found himself suppressing the delighted noises his omega wanted to make. He hadn't presented himself for very long — two hours, at most — but he was already aware of his wolf's desires; conscious enough to fear them.

"Is this okay?" Soo-ho asked, uncertain. It's more than okay, Si-eun wanted to reply, but contented himself with a light “hm” and a nod. Soo-ho laughed tenderly; he seemed to find some of Si-eun's behaviors quite fascinating. Still, he couldn't help but notice the blazing red on the other boy's face and the way he couldn't look him in the eye.

“I know this is very uncomfortable for you, I'm sorry." He continued, more out of the need to break the ice than to justify himself. "I'm just going to stay here until your parents arrive, you won't have to deal with me for long."

Si-eun's face, which was starting to take on a calm expression, suddenly saddened. Like a flower, he wilted, sinking into his pillow as if he wanted to be swallowed up by it and disappear into the bed mattress. Soo-ho could feel his scent take on a stale aspect, like expired coffee, but Si-eun didn't say anything. As if to get rid of a very uncomfortable thought, he shifted, frowning, and grabbed Soo-ho's wrist. The hand caressing him stopped immediately as if it had received a shock.

Soo-ho thought he was going to fight him again; his own scent denoted fear. But then, Si-eun guided his hand back to his abdomen, this time, underneath his shirt, in direct contact with his skin. He took his other wrist and did the same thing. He allowed himself to exhale, relieved, when Soo-ho's cold hands touched his warm belly, causing an extraordinary sensation between pain and pleasure. His face relaxed and he closed his eyes, his mouth slightly parted.

Soo-ho swallowed hard for the thousandth time that morning. Si-eun's scent was sweet again. The omega was satisfied; glad, even. Soo-ho's alpha was preening, puffing out his chest.

Just when he thought Si-eun had fallen into unconsciousness, his voice returned, now quiet and a little hoarse, slurred in his tiredness.

"Y-Your hands…," He began, almost hissing. Soo-ho felt his heart leap into his throat and get stuck there. “They're cold. And hurt."

“I washed them sometime after I got here." While you were distracted building your nest and walking around the room only in your underwear and shirt. “Sorry pup, I should have warmed them up before."

He didn't even notice. Si-eun's eyes opened slightly after hearing that word, that term of endearment. Pup. It made his heart race, his body heat up from the inside out. But he didn't say anything, closing his eyes as if nothing had happened. If Soo-ho realized his mishap, he didn't comment. There was no change in his scent, not even a little bit. Maybe that was all too natural for him.

They stayed like that for several minutes. Soo-ho's breathing remained steady throughout the entire process. Occasionally he commented on something and kept talking to himself in a sort of monologue where Si-eun's presence was implied. With his comforting touch and the pleasant timbre of his voice, Si-eun could feel himself relaxing more and more until he entered a pre-sleep state. But there was something missing.

After about forty-five minutes of uninterrupted rubbing, Si-eun spoke.

"Soo-ho," He called after him. The alpha answered him immediately, turning to look at him. "come up here."

The boy stopped the movement of his hands little by little. He left them still, covering Si-eun's stomach protectively as he looked into his eyes. It was such an intimate position and Si-eun was almost embarrassed to ask for anything more; but if Soo-ho was going to join him in his heat, the least he could do was make him comfortable too.

"Do you want me to lie in your nest?" He asked with his face slightly flushed. When you say it like that, it sounds lewd.

"Yes." Si-eun confirmed, not looking away from him.

Soo-ho laughed nervously, feeling his throat tighten. Si-eun had the habit of making him feel like his heart was too big for his chest.

"I don't know…"

“I can see you're tired." Si-eun continued against the alpha's will. “You must not have slept in a proper bed for days. You need to rest."

Soo-ho was staring at him with an expression that Si-eun couldn't understand. It was like gratitude and fear at the same time, something too big and complex to describe.

"Are you sure?" He asked one last time. His Adam's apple was bobbing, swallowing its own saliva. His voice was a little hoarse. Si-eun felt an icy shiver run down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Yes." He said with enough conviction. Both he and his omega were in agreement with that decision; it was logical reasoning, after all, and Si-eun wasn't entirely lacking in empathy. “You can lie down in my nest."

Soo-ho felt his whole body shake. He barely managed to get up, and when he did, he stared at the bed as if it were an abyss he was about to leap over. He was going to lie down in the nest of an omega — an omega that wasn't his grandmother or his mother —, an omega that had the most magnificent scent he'd ever smelled, an omega that was looking him front down up with a natural pout and magnetic eyes and-

"Soo-ho?" Si-eun called him again, confused. "You don't want to?"

Soo-ho could feel his heart swell. There was nothing he would ask with those eyes, with that voice, and those lips that he wouldn't do.

"I do." He replied, his voice barely recognizable in its deeper tone. “Yes, pup, of course I do." He cleared his throat and carefully laid down beside the omega, close to the wall.

He called me that again! Si-eun thought, surprised. His heart raced violently at the alpha's proximity, but he managed to be respectful even under those circumstances; they weren't touching, separated by the pillow Soo-ho had placed against his back. The amount of blankets and pillows made the bed even tighter, but Soo-ho seemed determined not to touch a single hair on Si-eun if it wasn't strictly allowed.

Si-eun sighed. He wanted to make the alpha relax, not make him more tense.

“Soo-ho, you can come closer."

Reluctantly, but unable to deny it, Soo-ho shifted until he found a more comfortable position. They were much closer now, but not as much as Si-eun — Ahem, Si-eun's omega — wanted. Soo-ho only caressed him with his hands again when he was asked to.

“You seem to have experience with omegas." Si-eun spoke again after a few minutes, wanting to hear Soo-ho's voice. He was never particularly good at starting conversations, but there wasn't much they could do at the moment. “You know what to do and you don't let the hormones get to your head. I wonder how you learned that; it's not something they teach you in biology textbooks." He murmured. Si-eun's mind wandered about Soo-ho's possible past experiences with omegas and he felt a heavy feeling in his chest, an acidity in his stomach.

Beside him, Soo-ho nodded with a strong hum in his chest.

"I live with my grandmother, she's an omega." He started. Si-eun immediately felt relieved, happy that his imagination was just playing tricks on him. He didn't even stop to analyze the reason for those sensations, soothed by the voice and scent of Soo-ho so, so close. “I used to help her with her heats when I was little. Of course, I couldn't do much because I was a child without a label, but she asked me to help by bringing her food and water. Once, I noticed that she had a lot of pain in her stomach and I said that I could give her a massage. She laughed, said I looked just like my grandfather, and it became a habit between the two of us."

He chuckled to himself. Oh, he missed his grandmother; when Si-eun asked him to caress his belly, he became static — so that wasn't simply something that the female omegas in his family asked for, it was a common characteristic of omegas, a need to relieve a punctual pain. They were indeed fascinating to Soo-ho.

“To this day, when I'm tired or upset, she rubs my belly. I've tried to tell her several times that I don't need it, but since she stopped having heats the roles have reversed." Soo-ho continued. His eyes sneaked down until he found the point of contact between his fingers and the skin on Si-eun's abdomen. He continued to caress it lovingly, almost mesmerized by the slight contrast of their skin tones in the dim light. The omega's scent had stabilized along with his breathing.

“She doesn't give me much room to reciprocate. It must be because I usually tickle her or because I said her belly was big when I was seven. In my defense, she was a lot bigger than I was at the time, and…"

Soo-ho raised his head a little from where it was resting on the pillow. The vision that greeted him almost made him cry.

Si-eun had his face turned to his side, fast asleep. His mouth was slightly parted and his breath came out in little puffs of air. His expression was serene, carefree, and untainted. Soo-ho wanted to keep that image of him like that forever in his head like a picture of perfection.

His heart swelled again, too big for his chest, beating and beating.

He laid his head back on the pillow, now alone with his own mind. He hadn’t even realized that his chances of getting the attendance award were now much slimmer, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care that much; he did what he had to do. That day had not gone as expected and it was still far from over. Although the thoughts of Young-bin had faded as he tended to Si-eun, he could now feel the anger returning in full force. Along with that came the perception of Si-eun's fully presented smell: the clean and new books, smelling like bookstore copies, and the ever so present chocolate coffee.

Soo-ho stared at the ceiling, feeling fragile. Now, there was someone else he wanted to protect besides his grandmother. Someone he wanted to be close to, someone he wanted to cherish. Someone other people wanted to hurt.

He took a deep breath and allowed himself to be carried away by the coffee with sugar and milk chocolate, so, so sweet.

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER THREE — HIDDEN, PRECIOUS AND SWEET | PART ONE

…

Soo-ho tried to fall asleep, but to his frustration, he soon found out that he couldn't.

God, he was tired. He felt it as soon as he touched that bed — that nest — the pain in his neck, the tension in his shoulders. His muscles were stiff and aching, barely able to support his movements; the shifts as a delivery man were really getting to him.

Still, he couldn't relax. He continued in the same position in which he had resumed caressing Si-eun's belly and continued to move his hands even long minutes after the other boy had fallen asleep. The rhythmic sound of his breathing right next to him and his sweet scent were too comforting for Soo-ho to even comprehend. If the two of them had ended up there under any other circumstances, Soo-ho was sure he would have fallen asleep with him, out like a light. Who knows, maybe they'd even wake up tangled in that mess of sheets, smelling like a mixture of each other's scents, involuntarily embraced by the simple need for their bodies to come together, seeking comfort.

That thought made him sigh. It really felt like he no longer owned his own brain. And the worst part was that he didn't even completely hate it — no, a part of him found it all very convenient.

Eventually, he stopped rubbing that warm, soft skin. His hands were no longer cold, and he suppressed the urge to bring them to his face and slap his cheeks with them. Is this real? Am I really here? Isn't this a long, self-indulgent dream? But he chose to leave them there, a still but firm touch in the place that hurt Si-eun the most; in the place that confirmed him as an omega in painful stabs. 

He stayed like that for at least an hour and a half. Si-eun's body was motionless — if not for his deep and steady breathing, Soo-ho would have been worried. Maybe Si-eun was always like this: quiet, inconspicuous, and fascinating. When Soo-ho realized that he wouldn't be able to ignore the reality around them, he almost groaned in agony. He wanted to be locked away in that hidden, precious, and sweet little world where all he had to worry about was whether the pressure of his hands was adequate for the sensitivity of the omega's skin; but he couldn't ignore everything that had gotten them there. He had some things to do, some calls to make.

And so, very careful not to wake the sleeping creature beside him, Soo-ho crept to his feet. He sat down first, very slowly, disentangling his hands from the boy. He no longer seemed to suffer from abdominal pain; or, at least, he was no longer aware of it. Soo-ho dragged himself to the end of the bed, trying not to mess up the composition of the nest too much, and finally managed to get up.

With that, Si-eun grunted a little, almost moaning, and shifted to the side that Soo-ho's body was occupying mere seconds ago. The alpha froze where he was standing, but Si-eun didn't wake up, he didn't even open his eyes. He just wrinkled his nose and snuggled deeper into the pillow, wiggling himself up a little, as if he wanted to feel Soo-ho's jacket hugging the top of his head. He was clutching the pink pillow to his chest in a very tight hug and his cheeks were flushed.

He’s so cute. Soo-ho let out a long breath, feeling his heart flutter. When this is all over, I'm gonna need to see the cardiologist.

He had thought of several things before he got up, but now that he was out of the nest, they all disappeared, fading into mere memories. He felt strangely out of place, in an awkward limbo between returning and not returning to Si-eun's side, where the wolf inside him said he belonged. It was a rather frightening instinct, and Soo-ho was forced to look away from the movement that Si-eun's breathing caused in his belly, rising and falling calmly.

It was then that he began to pay attention to the room he was in. Before, all his focus was on a single body and its most frivolous needs; before, he was living for Si-eun. He still was, and he would until someone else arrived to take care of him.

But now, he had time to really observe. At this point, he imagined he had Si-eun's face memorized — the perfect shape of his eyes, the soft curl of his lips, the apparent fluffiness of his hair. His room, however, was like an extension of his body, an expression of his essence.

Si-eun's room was organized in an obsessive disarray of information. All of its many shelves were filled with books. His study material on his desk was millimetrically positioned and arranged for him to use. On his wall, were dozens of yellow post-its with punctual notes of the most diverse subjects. On display were various academic awards, from trophies to certificates, as well as silver and gold medals.

Si-eun's room said everything you needed to know about him: he was diligent, he was hardworking, he was excellent. And he was also exceptionally lacking in sensitivity. Soo-ho had never seen a room so cold, in every sense of the word; his computer had no personalized stickers, his walls had no posters of bands or paintings, there were no messages from friends or relatives, nor mere decorative objects. Everything served a simple, straightforward function; it was just a place to study and sleep right after.

Even so, Si-eun seemed to emanate a very human warmth. In fact, he looked like he was burning from the inside out. Soo-ho wondered if he should turn on the air conditioning, but he didn't want to risk making the boy uncomfortable. He contented himself with glancing around, taking a closer look at the shelves: first-place prize in the Math Competition, first-place trophy in the National Physics Olympiad, certificate of merit, certificate of highest-achieving student in the year 2021, silver medal of the municipal robotics tournament.

On the desk, a picture of a very young Si-eun, also holding an academic certificate. He had lovely chubby cheeks and still looked willing to smile, though never showing his teeth. Soo-ho, even a little horrified by all that mechanicalness, found himself smiling sideways. He really was a little genius, hyper-focused and lonely.

And then, as if he could hear his thoughts, Si-eun let out a loud and hoarse breath, almost like a snore, which immediately snapped Soo-ho out of his trance.

Right. He had things to do.

The first thing he looked for was the patch Si-eun was holding before they arrived. At some point, it had slipped out of his hands and Soo-ho mentally cursed himself for not keeping it in a safe place; surely it could have gone flying with the speed of his bike, even more so with Si-eun in that state. It wasn't like he could exactly blame himself — he had to get the omega to safety as soon as possible, after all. But if there was no evidence against Young-bin, it would seem like he just beat up a willing alpha amidst a very inconvenient natural manifestation; in fact, without that path, Soo-ho would have had to change schools.

Ugh. His grandmother would be so disappointed.

He thought about rummaging through the things within reach, but he didn't want to clutter up shelves as neat as someone looking for a needle in a haystack; moreover, he had the impression that that would irritate Si-eun beyond madness. He took one more involuntary look at the sleeping boy, dressed only in a black shirt — with the words good times only written in a colorful font — and his underwear, when he realized it. As if a lightbulb had lit up right above his head, Soo-ho's eyes widened.

His clothes, of course!

It wasn't often that Soo-ho had eurekas or epiphanies, but this time he was correct: the small patch was on the floor, half-attached to Si-eun's sweaty uniform shirt. Soo-ho sighed in relief; he still had a chance in the midst of all that chaos.

After that, he was forced to take a short tour of Si-eun's apartment: he searched the kitchen for a plastic container where he could keep the patch and, luckily for him, he found some small empty soy sauce pots for gimbap, probably reused from orders. He placed the patch there, in the hopes that traces of the heat-inducing drug would remain until the end of the five days of medical leave that Si-eun would inevitably receive.

With that evidence still firmly in hand, he looked for a place to wash his clothes. Si-eun's apartment wasn't particularly big, so the laundry room was merely a cramped space, separated from the kitchen by a door at the very back, with a washing machine, a couple of basins, and a folding floor clothesline that surely had to be taken away from there often. Soo-ho didn't hesitate to put Si-eun's uniform straight into the machine, but he frowned when he realized that the soap was barely enough for those two pieces of clothing. He turned the machine on anyway, surveying the spot with raised eyebrows; his instinct — that wolfish instinct that was rarely wrong — told him there was something off there, and there was nothing more characteristic of an alpha like him than sticking his nose in the dirt and rummaging around with his muzzle.

The cleaning products were on a single floor-to-ceiling shelf, but not nearly enough to fill it to the brim. Most were full, others hadn't even been opened yet; the only product used was liquid soap that went to the washing machine, indicating that this was the main activity that was carried out there.

With a sharper, more inquisitive look, Soo-ho went back to the kitchen and took the liberty of opening the cupboards: they were filled with instant noodles — most of them spicy — and industrialized sweets. There were a few milk cartons and chocolate milk bottles, as well as three bags of rice, untouched. Soo-ho checked the validity of all of them and his grimace only grew; they weren't too far from expiring. The fridge, on the other hand, had a much worse vision: there was an open carton of milk, a slice of cheese, a plastic bag full of barely edible tomatoes, and what was left of a clearly not homemade fried chicken. Soo-ho struggled not to go back to the room screaming; what the hell was Si-eun feeding himself with?

During all of that, Soo-ho couldn't help noticing another fundamental problem: apart from the one or two family pictures strewn across the hallway wall and the living room counter, Si-eun seemed to live completely alone.

His academic prizes took the most space in the decoration of that completely impersonal home. There was nothing there that actually denoted the presence of other people: no half-eaten sandwiches, no messages on the fridge magnets, no specific objects that belonged to Si-eun's father or Si-eun's mother. Most of all, there was no scent other than the two of them, which was odd if that house was inhabited by another alpha, beta, or omega. If Si-eun lived with other people, adult people, those people had to leave any traces that they'd been there, but Soo-ho found himself unable to smell anything other than his own scent and the sugary touch that emanated from Si-eun.

Soo-ho let out a long, tired sigh. There was little cleaning material, little food and little chance that Si-eun's parents would show up. By all means, he would need to stay there longer than he had anticipated; if not him, who would take care of Si-eun? If not him, who would ease his pains, who would check his body temperature, who would grant his reluctant requests?

At that, he took his cell phone out of his pocket with trembling hands. There was something electric pulsing through his veins, something grave and phenomenal. Perhaps it was the notion that his violent acts had likely been filmed, exposing him to everyone; maybe it was the fear of the uncertainties of what was to come; maybe it was the fact that he was going to be spending the next five days with an omega during his first heat.

Of all those expectations, he heeded the last one. Of all that was grave and phenomenal, Yeon Si-eun still took the first place.

It was an oddly affectionate thought to have about someone who didn't hesitate to remind him that he wasn't close to, that he didn't know well. Still, he found himself opening his phone's contacts tab, ready to make a thousand excuses on his behalf. He didn't have the means to understand, so he just gave up trying; Soo-ho had never cared much about not knowing things.

His hands had stopped shaking at some point while thinking about Si-eun, but when he saw the notifications on his cell phone's screen, they started shaking again.

Three missed calls from his grandmother. And that was it.

In truth, Soo-ho expected it to be much worse — he knew it could be much worse. He was expecting immediate and loud consequences: he imagined that they’d have posted scenes of the fight on Instagram, that there would be a thousand messages, maybe he’d even have appeared in the local newspaper. That stillness almost made him believe that what had happened was no big deal; he was, for a mere second, very relieved.

But that relief was short-lived. He was not connected to the wifi, no internet signal. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask Si-eun for the password. For the first time, he wanted to be completely alienated, even if he died of boredom, he wanted to forget that the outside world even existed. But if he wanted to have any peace of mind, he would have to face things head-on.

With that in mind, he found his boss's contact. Half of him wanted her to answer in less than three rings, the other half didn’t want her to answer at all. She answered after eight rings, sounding as delicate as ever.

“What do you want?”

Soo-ho almost laughed. Classic Miss Choi.

“Hey, Miss Choi. It's me, Soo-ho.”

“I know it's you, brat. Why are you calling me at this time? Shouldn't you be at school?”

Soo-ho glanced sideways at the clock on the wall just above the dining table. Quarter to noon. He should be at school; if none of that had happened — if Young-bin hadn't happened — they would be, right now, checking the answers on the quiz. He would have performed slightly above average and Si-eun would probably have had the best grade in the class, as it was expected, as it was meant to be.

His fingers involuntarily tightened around the screen, aching.

“I'll need to be off work for a few days.” He got straight to the point. He could hear Miss Choi mumbling something, surely complaining about his good manners. She was washing the dishes; the distant sound of running water and the contact of glass plates against each other were almost comforting noises.

“How many days?” She asked.

“Five days.” He replied, convinced even though he didn't have Si-eun's permission to spend so much time at his house. Problems for later.

“Five days? Are you in a rut?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a rut.”

“It’s a heat, then?” Miss Choi inquired, her voice acquiring an intonation of curiosity. Soo-ho gulped, realizing his mistake immediately. You fucking idiot! “Whose heat is that?” 

Soo-ho almost choked on his own saliva. He hadn't calculated the progress of that conversation precisely. Hell, he could feel Miss Choi arching her eyebrows just by the tone of her voice. A few beads of sweat gathered on his forehead and his brain cells seemed to have stopped working. He spent more time in silence than Miss Choi’s patience allowed it, and that's when he found himself blurting out the first thing that came to mind:

“My Grandma’s”

This time, the silence wasn't his own, but it was just as awkward. The sweat on his forehead trickled down the corner of his face onto his cheeks like tears of embarrassment.

“Your grandma doesn’t have heats anymore, Soo-ho. She is seventy-two years old.” Miss Choi’s voice was accompanied by a very sincere sigh, one that indicated she wasn't in the mood for jokes at all, not that she ever was.

Soo-ho pinched the bridge of his nose. He was indeed a mediocre liar and only handled pressure well when the answers came from his fists.

"Besides," she continued, to Soo-ho's dismay. “omega’s heats only last three days. Why the hell are you getting five out?”

Soo-ho's voice cracked a little when he answered. “The medical leave covers two extra days.”

Miss Choi was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke again, Soo-ho pictured her with a smirk on her face.

“So you finally got yourself a girlfriend.” Miss Choi continued before he could even think of an excuse to get him out of the situation. He probably wouldn't have thought of anything useful, but he still found himself blushing slightly at being read so transparently.

"N-Nah, it's not what you're thinking…"

"Boyfriend, then?" Soo-ho choked audibly. The shrill laugh of Miss Choi was certainly heard across the entire restaurant, crossing the city right to Soo-ho's ears as a mortifying mockery. Miss Choi enjoyed jokes when she was the one making them. “Well, anyway, use protection and don't cross the line.”

“Miss Choi!” Soo-ho shrieked, looking from side to side as if someone was listening to that call. He hoped Si-eun was having the deepest sleep of his life. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

"He's not your boyfriend and yet you're willing to skip five days of work just to be with him during his heat?” Miss Choi asked, almost in disbelief. Only then did Soo-ho realize how strange it all sounded and he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. “You’re such a flirt, Soo-ho. You never fooled me!”

Soo-ho rubbed his temples tiredly. Why did his boss have to be such a smart and difficult woman?

“Miss Choi, he's a kid in my class. He’s just presented and there is no one who can take care of him. He lives practically alone.” Soo-ho was explaining himself in the next second. He didn't even realize that his voice had lowered, taking on a pleading tone. On the other end of the line, the sound of water ceased.

“As touching as that story might be, Soo-ho, business is still business.” The boy could hear the familiar noise of his boss getting rid, very delicately, of her wet rubber gloves. "I'll need to take those days out of your wage."

Soo-ho sighed. He didn't expect anything different, but a part of him still wanted to get out of that situation financially unscathed. If I wasn't such a bad liar-

"Okay Miss Choi, I understand.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. His legs were shaking involuntarily. “I’m sorry”

“It's not me you should be sorry for. Does your grandmother already know about this?” Soo-ho winced at the mention of his guardian. “I can put a replacement on your shifts, but your grandmother can't replace her grandson. You better not do anything stupid, boy!”

"I know, I know, I'll talk to her." He grumbled, already desperate to end that conversation. And he didn't seem to be the only one.

“Hmph. Anything else?” Miss Choi asked, and Soo-ho had interacted with her long enough to know it was a rhetorical question.

“No, that’s all.”

And then, without any kind of goodbye, she hung up. Classic Miss Choi: Busy, direct, and with zero tolerance for bullshit.

Soo-ho sighed in relief; one out, one more to go.

He called his grandmother with swift fingers. Usually, talking to his grandmother was calming, but he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that she wasn't going to be so understanding this time. His biggest fear was that she would force him to come home because he would have to refuse; there was no way he’d leave Si-eun alone — except, of course, to buy basic survival items.

He didn't have much time to think, though; his grandmother answered right away as if she was anxiously awaiting his call. And she was the first to speak:

“The school contacted me.” Her voice was still as peaceful and gentle as ever, but it carried with it an obvious weight of sadness, maybe even a little bit of reluctance, of longing. He felt his throat hurt and his eyes sting. “Soo-ho, puppy…What did you do?”

Soo-ho gulped and let a few seconds pass. The steady sound of his grandmother's breathing told him she wasn't going anywhere.

"Granny…" He began, staring at no place in particular. That apartment was a combination of whites and browns, lifeless. “I did what I had to do.”

The sigh his grandmother gave was a deep, weary, disappointed one .

And then, it was livid.

“Bullshit!”

Soo-ho had to pull the cell phone away from his ear with the force of her scream. For a second, he thought he felt the wind of it on his skin. He was never so grateful to spend some time away from home.

“I won't fall for this lame excuse. Are you telling me there was no other way to handle the situation, whatever it was?”

Soo-ho was starting to feel suffocated. He regretted even picking up his phone. He even stopped to think for a second; was there another way? He didn't know how to answer.

“Gran-”

“I always knew you'd be an alpha.” Her voice was very close and very far away at the same time, a nostalgic reverie. When his grandmother was angry, she lectured him until she ran out of things to say. It could last minutes, it could last hours. Soo-ho had no patience for either. “But I didn't want you to become one of those alphas.”

“Granny-”

“Ever since you were little, I knew.” She didn’t let him proceed. “I knew what you would be and that’s precisely why I went to all the trouble to raise you the right way.” Her voice sounded shaky now, as if she had a thousand complaints stuck in her throat. Soo-ho felt them like stabs in his chest. “I raised you to be a good alpha!”

“I am a good alpha, Granny!” He reacted immediately, in desperation. He felt like a five-year-old again, begging her not to ground him. “I don't know what the teachers told you, but I would never be violent for no reason.”

"Oh, you had a reason! That makes me so relieved, why didn't you say so earlier?” She snapped between forced laughs. Soo-ho had forgotten how sarcastic his grandmother could be; she was truly angry. "Surely that changes everything, why don't you tell the kid in the hospital right now? The doctors will even cancel the surgery.”

Soo-ho felt time freeze for a second. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach and back again. The words came out of her mouth so easily, as if he should know already. Deep down, maybe he knew.

“Wait… surgery?”

On the other end of the line, his grandmother sneered. Had Soo-ho been that violent?

“You kicked that kid's knot so bad they had to do a small surgery to fix it. Satisfied?”

The two were silent for a few seconds. It was almost a miracle to have his grandmother silent when she was so agitated and Soo-ho knew — he knew — that she wanted to see his reaction, to test him. He felt it in the pit of his stomach, building up like a wave and rising through his body until it escaped out of his throat, involuntary, inevitable; it was euphoria mixed with fear, something that made him cover his mouth in vain and widen his eyes, even as the air escaped between his fingers in sharp and strange sounds. His stomach was hurting, his mind couldn't believe it. On the other end of the line, his grandmother was dangerously silent, taking it all in.

And then she spoke again:

"Ahn Soo-ho," She said his name like a sentence. Soo-ho knew right then and there, he was screwed. “are you laughing?”

He couldn't hold back any longer. He laughed even harder.

"I can't believe this!" His grandmother was exceptionally incredulous. Soo-ho wouldn't be surprised if she was planning to throw him out of the house right then and there. “You've completely lost your mind.”

Soo-ho didn't want to laugh, he really didn't. It was so natural, so spontaneous, because it was so ridiculous. The thought that Young-bin really could have been rendered infertile by Soo-ho's kicks brought him a strange sense of pride. It wasn't so much an animalistic feeling as it was a desire for retaliation. After all, if his grandmother knew, she would agree: Young-bin got what he deserved.

But his grandmother didn't know. And she was scolding him.

"... When I received the email from the school council I was horrified, I couldn't believe my Soo-ho would do something like that," Her voice echoed through the call, seeming endless. “but now you're laughing and… Soo-ho, are you even listening to me?”

Soo-ho cleared his throat, almost coughing. He straightened his posture and took a deep breath.

"Grandma," He began, sounding less apologetic and more assertive in hopes that she would finally give him the word. Apparently, it had worked. “Grandma, listen to me. I know it's easier to believe what the school tells you, but it's not the whole truth.” He paused, looking around. He wondered if Si-eun would be mad if he told someone else what happened, but he didn't have much of a choice. “That guy had it coming, believe me.”

His grandmother snorted. It was like she was right next to him.

“You're not making this easy for me at all, puppy.” She sounded tired. Soo-ho felt guilty and wondered if that was how she felt when she saw him arriving exhausted from his shifts. “What do you mean by that?”

He told her everything down to the last detail. He said everything in the order in which the facts had come to him: when he heard a slap behind his chair, when the teacher caught Si-eun's attention, when the room was filled with a strong scent of coffee, chocolate, and books. He told about how he could perfectly see the moment when Si-eun removed a patch from his neck and, with trembling fingers and eyes full of tears, accused Young-bin of having caused all of this. He told his grandmother how Young-bin seemed desperate to get Si-eun out of there, how much his smell and his gaze showed all his intentions.

What happened next, he didn't need to say. He hoped his grandmother could understand. He did what he had to do. Any decent alpha would do the same, he convinced himself.

Well, maybe another decent alpha wouldn't have gone this far. Soo-ho didn't regret a thing.

When his grandmother continued to be quiet, he went on to say that he would need to stay with Si-eun during his heat. He expected another scream, but his grandmother remained silent, which was, in some ways, much worse. He explained that Si-eun basically lived alone, that there was no sign of his parents and it was dangerous to leave an omega alone at such a delicate moment. His grandmother would understand, she was an omega.

But his grandmother was also responsible for a teenager accused of atrocities. Soo-ho wasn't surprised when she ignored the entire second half of his speech, but he was a little disappointed.

"Do you have any proof that this Young-bin kid did this?" His grandmother asked after what felt like hours of judgmental silence. She seemed calmer now, which was an improvement. “Because if you don't, things are going to get a lot more complicated than they already are. It's your word against his, and apparently, his family has money. More money than we do.”

Soo-ho frowned. “His family contacted you already?”

His grandmother sighed.

"Soo-ho, do you have proof or not?"

Soo-ho looked at the small plastic container in his hands, where that hideous and offensive patch was kept. He hoped that was enough.

“Yes. Yes, we do.”

His grandmother cleared her throat. He could hear the familiar crunch of her sandals against the floor and the rustling of her dress; she, who had been so static only seconds ago, was finally moving again. Soo-ho almost smiled.

“Then I'll hold things over here while you help this kid out. What's his name again…?”

“Si-eun.”

“Si-eun, right.” She murmured, sounding distracted. Soo-ho guessed she was getting ready to answer all those emails and calls. Soo-ho felt guilty all over again.

But then, his grandmother let out a small laugh. That sound alone was enough to calm him down.

“You seem really fond of this boy.”

Soo-ho felt his cheeks slowly heat up until they burned. He swallowed hard; he refused to stutter when talking to his grandmother, of all people. She knew him so well, even when he wasn't there with her. But the words didn't come, after all, there wasn't much to deny: he really had become fond of Si-eun very quickly. He didn't say anything, because he was a terrible liar — and even if he wasn't, Soo-ho had a feeling his grandmother would catch him every time. And not long after, she continued:

"How long are you going to stay there?"

“Five days.”

“Oh? You’re spending the entire medical leave period with him?” Soo-ho didn't answer. His grandmother let out another rapid breath; she seemed to be having a hard time assimilating all that information. He didn't blame her. “You're really fond of this boy.”

Soo-ho was sure he looked like a tomato right now. He already had no more blood left for his face. He looked at the watch again: noon. He was starting to get impatient, not that he wasn't already in the first place.

“Grandma, thanks for sorting everything out for me.” His tone was too casual, indicating farewell, an obvious change of subject. “When this is all over, I'll figure things out, I promise.”

"Tsk, you better!" She snapped. Soo-ho didn't hold back his smile this time.

Before he could hang up, she called out to him one last time.

“Soo-ho.”

There was something different about the distant texture of her voice, something contemplative and wistful, yet resigned. If he could see her now, he would find her staring at him with her eyes narrowed to hide stubborn tears, as if she was sure this moment was drastic and final. As if he was about to leave her for good.

“Yes, grandma?”

She sighed again.

“Don't do anything you'll regret later. Remember what I’ve always told you.”

And then, she hung up.

Soo-ho stared at the cell phone's screen for a few moments, astonished. What did she mean by that? He imagined what it could be and was indignant. His grandmother couldn't possibly be thinking he was going to mate with Si-eun, could she? Had that incident caused her to lose all the trust she had in him?

Frustrated, he turned off his cell phone. He didn't want to be disturbed by anyone else, his thoughts were hectic enough, and all that mattered was what Si-eun would come to need.

From the little that Soo-ho had observed on the speed-of-lightning trip to Si-eun's apartment, there was a market three blocks away and a pharmacy on the avenue of the building. He had some money accumulated in his account, money he decided to save for emergencies, and he couldn't think of anything more urgent than that.

Still, the prospect of leaving Si-eun alone made his heart constrict painfully, with strong twinges of anxiety, even if it was just for a little while. Soo-ho didn't even realize he was walking toward the boy's room until he found himself at the door. Ajar, it creaked a little as Soo-ho gently pushed it and slipped inside, as if eavesdropping.

Si-eun had changed his position several times, but his scent hadn't changed for a second since he had fallen asleep. He was even snoring now, and if Soo-ho got close enough, he would notice his eyelids fluttering slightly with the rapid movements of his eyes. Soo-ho wondered if he was dreaming, about what and with whom; for a moment, he wished he wasn't — Young-bin had provided enough material for very specific nightmares.

It was with great reluctance that he finally decided to take one of the many notebooks from Si-eun's desk and open it to the last pages, luckily still blank, and write a note. It was straightforward and simple, just in case he woke up before he got back, which wasn't even the worst-case scenario that crossed Soo-ho's mind. What if the neighbors could smell him? What if there were some dangerous alphas around? What if they tried to break in? Soo-ho knew those possibilities were extreme, but they were possibilities nonetheless.

He left the notebook in a visible place and wrote the message in bold letters so that Si-eun wouldn't have problems reading it. He placed the patch in the plastic pot, forgotten in his hands, right next to the page, and felt like he'd lifted a huge weight once he did.

He left the room and went down the hall. He was without his windbreaker; his helmet was lying on the ground in the building's parking lot, probably scratched; his bike's engine was certainly on the limit. The omega was sleeping just a few steps away from him, he could easily go back and snuggle next to him. Soo-ho felt like he was leaving for the war.

When he finally decided to go, he calmed his anxiety with the extra key that was near the door and, against his will, he remembered that the apartment had a security system. He could clearly hear the electronic noise the door made the night he walked away with quick steps and a heavy heart. Now he had an even heavier heart, but for entirely different reasons. There was an unspoken comfort in the way he cared so much, an innate sense, bordering on intuition, that said his care was not in vain.

He left, closed the door, and walked away with every intention of returning.

When Si-eun woke up, he thought he was dead. But that hypothesis was soon discarded; there was no such pain after death, nor consciousness.

The first thing that he registered was a throbbing, intense headache. The entire weight of his body — blood, bone, gristle — seemed to have pooled in one place: at his temples, exploding repeatedly in painful stabs. His body had acquired an extra layer formed exclusively by sweat; the cramps had returned in full force, insisting on making themselves present as an annoying and impossible-to-ignore visitor. He had lost feeling in his right leg, limp and heavy as if its bones had been ripped out. Even with all that, he couldn't even grunt: his throat was dry and burning, his tongue felt like it was going to melt in the heat of his own mouth, he was dying of thirst; dying, perhaps, in the literal sense of the word.

The second thing he realized was that he was in his room, and it didn't take him long to remember that he had made his first nest in his bed. Even with those hellish pains, he felt strangely comforted. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, nor had he realized that he had fallen asleep in the first place. His room was darker than when he’d arrived, but it was still lit by the soft orange light that crept through the curtains. He remained motionless for several minutes before moving, with great difficulty, to a sitting position. The pain somehow managed to get worse and spread throughout his body; for a moment, he really wished he was dead.

But then, he noticed something else. Something that was missing. The third thing he registered was, without a doubt, the worst of all.

Soo-ho wasn't there.

Si-eun involuntarily looked towards the right side of the nest, even though he didn't have to; his body was hot and sweaty, but the absence of another body next to him was obvious in its coolness. He wondered if he was hallucinating — the fabrics seemed to have taken on Soo-ho's shape, forming a glaring, almost drawn hole. Si-eun felt a strong wave of uneasiness sweep him from head to toe, making his throat close in reflex. Soo-ho is not here. He left.

Si-eun tried to be rational, even though his heart was racing at the speed of light, heavy and strong, upset. He tried to make sense of things; it wasn't fair to expect that Soo-ho would stay there all the time, he had a life too — a life arguably much more eventful than Si-eun's, with his part-time job and overnight motorcycle trips. Yes, Si-eun could understand everything clearly; there was no reason for Soo-ho to miss work to babysit a boy his own age, a boy who meant nothing to him, a boy who never gave him reason to care.

He felt his throat tighten, burning; the salt seemed to settle there and move up his face, turning it red, finding his tear duct and making it water. Fucking hell.

Si-eun had never thought too much about selfishness, although he was very individualistic, but he imagined it was something like this: feeling his heart breaking for something — someone — that he didn't deserve; having the audacity to have expectations after they've been shattered so many times before, putting power in someone else's hands out of sheer will. Maybe selfishness wasn't the right word; but it was horrible, and it was stupid, and Si-eun felt that he had no ground under his feet anymore, trapped in a nauseating, dark void.

Against his will, his brain began to remember the moments before falling asleep, when Soo-ho was still such a close presence that he could feel him on his skin, caressing him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was kind in a way that showed in his eyes, the tips of his fingers, the tone of his voice, and the softness of his words. And then, Si-eun remembered: "Do you want to spend my heat with me?". And his answer, loud and clear: “ yes.”

Had Soo-ho changed his mind? Had he just said that to calm him down and then sneak away? Or worse: did he really want to mate with him and got upset about the rejection?

It seemed so cruel, the possibility that Soo-ho had revived his heart, stagnant for so long, only to destroy it so easily again. Si-eun hadn't even noticed that he was massaging his temples as if he was going to alter his memories with the force of his fists.

Suddenly he got up. It was a rather impulsive action, but he managed to grab the wall before dizziness caused him to fall. I need to distract myself, he thought, even as he tried to convince himself that there was no reason to be so upset — so sad, so miserable. Si-eun was alone again, and he had never cared about it, even if Soo-ho had made him forget.

He walked with slow, heavy steps to his desk; with each step he took, his right leg collided with the contact with the ground, tingling intensely. He stifled a pained groan and continued on, dragging himself like the living dead to his chair, where he sat down automatically as soon as he reached it. He sighed deeply when he was able to rest, feeling as if he had crossed a gigantic desert in warm clothes. In his mind, a troubling thought: If I'm going to spend this heat alone, I might as well study.

He sat up as straight as he could and turned on the computer. But the light from the screen almost burned his eyes and he had to turn it off immediately. Si-eun grunted, rubbing his eyelids; in the darkness of his closed eyes, there were hundreds of strong and clear lights reflecting his sensitivity.

Luckily, he still had the notes in his notebooks and his books. He opened the first one he saw in front of him and only realized that it was a chemistry book when he saw several molecular equations. He opened a notebook, and picked up a pen with a trembling hand; he tried to do an exercise, but reading required a lot of effort that only made his headache worse. His arm hurt from the slightest move and he didn't have enough strength to write. He couldn't study; he couldn't study at all. And for the first time, he realized that he didn't even want to study, if not to get Soo-ho out of his head.

Si-eun sighed deeply. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. He feared he wasn't strong enough to handle it.

It was then that he heard it; a combination of sounds, not too close, but not too far, the perfect distance for Si-eun to know it was coming from inside his apartment. It was a movement he hadn't been in contact with for a long time and it was almost nostalgic, the sound of running water from the tap, the noise of the gas stove being lit, the sound of a knife cutting something, rhythmic like music. Someone was in the kitchen; had his father come home?

But the smell wasn't his father's. It was an amazing smell that made Si-eun's dry mouth water; there were vegetables, soy sauce, some ginger, and miso paste. A salty, tempting, inexplicable smell. Was it ramen? Si-eun's stomach rumbled loudly; he couldn't remember the last time he'd had ramen, or any other decent meal for that matter.

And amid all that combination of savory smells, the familiar pine trees, with a touch of clean leather.

Si-eun couldn't describe what he felt even if his life depended on it. His eyes filled with tears again, but he refused to let them fall. His heart was racing a mile a minute, fast and excited, unable to hold back. It was as if a gigantic weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he felt able to breathe again, light, free, relieved. In fact, he had never felt such relief in his life; Soo-ho is here. He's in the kitchen, and he's cooking. He’s here.

But suddenly, the noises stopped. The kitchen was silent, if not for the slight noise of the fire burning and whatever was bubbling in the pot. The scent of pine trees grew stronger and stronger until Si-eun realized that Soo-ho — because it could only be Soo-ho — was returning to the room.

He panicked for a second; for some reason, he didn't want Soo-ho to know he was awake, especially when he obviously hadn't woken up well. He got up quickly, cursing the vertigo of the movement under his breath, and ran to his bed, snuggling into his nest in the hopes that Soo-ho wouldn't notice any significant changes. But he didn't want to pretend he was sleeping either, he didn't think he'd be able to, and the next thing he knew, the door was open, showing Soo-ho in all his glory, in the flesh, tall and handsome and right there.

“You’re awake.” He stated. There was a slight edge of cheerfulness in his voice, and it sounded wonderful to Si-eun's ears after what felt like centuries of silence. “I could smell your frightened scent from afar. What's wrong, pup?”

It was too much, Si-eun soon realized. Him, standing there, with all of his unwavering attention. The way he had stopped everything to come to his aid, the way he was dressed: in his ordinary clothes and a worn apron, which he vaguely remembered seeing his mother wearing on rare occasions in his childhood. Si-eun felt his eyes sting, tears always close to falling. Si-eun thought that Soo-ho looked like he belonged there; like he was right at home, comfortable enough to claim the space as his own, comfortable enough to call Si-eun affectionate nicknames as if they were a married couple. It was all too much.

“Are you okay?” Soo-ho broke the silence, worried. He left where he was leaning against the door, slowly approaching Si-eun's nest. The omega felt his heart tighten even more and he shivered a little. Soo-ho had that habit of making him feel like he mattered more than he actually did. “Are you in pain? Do you have a fever?”

He came closer until he stopped abruptly a few steps away from the bed. He had raised his hand, as if he was going to touch Si-eun and check his temperature, but refrained at the last minute. Soo-ho seemed to be contemplating something and that only made Si-eun feel even worse; he probably thought he shouldn't touch him without permission, that he'd be scared, that he'd get it wrong.

Si-eun took a deep breath. He wished he were easier to get along with — but then again, he didn't exactly know how to get along with other people.

"I…" He began, his voice sounding low and husky. He cleared his throat. Soo-ho didn't look away from him. "I thought you had left.”

Soo-ho didn't react, but inside, his body's system was about to short-circuit. He wasn't sure if Si-eun was aware of how sad he looked, how much his unshed tears shone like pearls. His lips were parted and he was breathing a little through his mouth, with difficulty. He didn't look that different from his everyday life, but Soo-ho wondered if the mere thought of his absence had affected him so much that he was so extremely despondent, so lifeless. He felt guilty, at the same time that a bizarre sense of vanity set in — if his absence shook him that much, he could only assume that his presence was important.

He looked away for a few seconds, scratched the back of his neck, and tried to suppress a smile that definitely didn't fit in that context. What you do to me, Yeon Si-eun.

“I had to leave for a while." He replied, taking an unconsciously sadistic pause, perhaps. Si-eun's scent, which was messed up due to his turmoil of emotions right after waking up, reached a quick peak of attention. “I had to buy some things.”

Si-eun closed his mouth and gulped. His once parted lips served as a temptation for Soo-ho, but now, he was tempted by completely different things.

“Oh.” Was all he replied. But he didn't seem to have really understood, confused. Si-eun was doing it again, that distant look that indicated that the gears in his brain were working hard to find an answer. Soo-ho bit his cheek, trying not to smile.

“Look.” He pointed to the part of the counter closest to the bed. Si-eun slowly turned his head to where Soo-ho's hands were indicating. His eyes widened a little. "I left you a note."

With trembling hands, Si-eun took the notebook and brought it to his lap. I had to go to the pharmacy and to the supermarket to buy some things we might need. I won’t be long. All in large letters and in black ink. All thought out in the best way for him — for them. Things they might need.

“Oh,” Si-eun mumbled, fighting all his urge to burst into tears. “I didn't realize.” His voice cracked anyway. He resisted the urge to cover his mouth with his hands and sob. The tears finally escaped, impossible to remain trapped.

And Soo-ho — Soo-ho could only stare, anesthetized, drunk with an unspoken feeling, as real as air, yet just as invisible.

Now, Si-eun was actually crying. His hair was messed up in his post-sleep state, his face was more puffy and red than ever, his eyes were tearful and threatening to spill more and more salty water. This brought Soo-ho the most paradoxical feelings; while the sight of an omega in distress made him want to take care of him as soon as possible — do whatever it took to make him feel happy and safe and spoiled — he also wanted to just stand there and watch him in all his sad, almost tantrum-like glory. The way Si-eun's eyes, which had always been teary, were now actually filled with tears, left him breathless and amazed as if he were admiring a painting in an art museum. The way the afternoon sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and lit his face in the dark room was almost baroque, his desperation and unreal beauty making him look like a creature straight out of Caravaggio's brushes.

It was the most beautiful thing Soo-ho had ever seen.

He wanted to spend an eternity gazing at it, but then he had a bizarre thought, the kind that suddenly appears and goes away leaving nothing but guilt behind.

Looking at Si-eun like that, so pleading, he couldn't help but think how much he would love to make him cry on his cock.

That thought was pleasant for a mere second; his brain managed to conjure up an image that was very satisfying to his alpha instincts, and also very explicit. But he was soon tarnished by the memory of what Young-bin had said days ago — I bet you're so sensitive; one thrust and you're already sobbing  — and he was immediately disgusted; disgusted with Young-bin, disgusted with himself.

So much for keeping your thoughts clean, he thought to himself. He felt dirty and hypocritical; indeed, heats were inherently sexual in nature — they weren't called mating cycles for nothing. Its sole purpose was to ensure the survival of the species through reproduction — which was quite ironic, considering South Korea's extremely low birth rates. Still, thinking that way about Si-eun in such a vulnerable state was like taking advantage of a drunk person; he knew thoughts were involuntary, but he was tempted to punish himself, terribly ashamed even though no one could know what was going on in his mind.

Soo-ho wondered, fearfully, what the others in their class were thinking; they probably imagined the two would eventually give in to their instincts, mating right then and there. If Soo-ho were any other guy, with any other kind of upbringing, he'd be desperately looking for condoms and praying Si-eun wouldn’t feel violated.

But if Si-eun, on the other hand, was any other guy, of any other sub-gender, he wouldn't be going through such a situation in the first place. Not that it was his fault — no, not at all. The fault had a common name, a wicked face, a corrupted laugh.

There, frozen in time, looking at such an unknown and hidden version of Si-eun, Soo-ho realized that he didn't just hate Young-bin, he despised him. Si-eun was only going through all that suffering because of him, forced to go into heat sooner than his body was ready, sooner than his mind was ready; and in such a humiliating way, too.

He despised Young-bin for saying those vulgar and harassing things, he despised him for tarnishing Si-eun's still unblown sexuality with that tone of violence, of belittlement, of fetish, when it should be something pure, pleasant, and beautiful. He despised him so much that he wanted to kill him.

But more than anything, he despised himself for, deep down, not being all that different. He wasn't exactly like him, no; but neither was he exempt from the nastier aspects of his nature to which Young-bin had succumbed. He was quickly reminded of his grandmother's words:

An alpha must control themself, she said, whenever he showed excessive strength in his childish games; whenever he tried to exert dominance, hurting his peers; whenever he threw a tantrum, kicking around like an entitled prince. She said so, because she knew him like the back of her own hand. An alpha who can't control themself is a bad, bad wolf; and bad wolves tarnish the pack, tarnish society. A bad wolf must be banished and wander alone forever, to think about their deeds.

Maybe it was Si-eun's accusatory words, maybe it was his alpha status, maybe it was his own conflicted inner morals, but Soo-ho was growing more and more worried that Young-bin was just a more perverse manifestation of his own attraction to Si-eun, and that thought made him want to choke. He wouldn't forgive himself if that were the case, he would leave Si-eun and go far away, where his paranoias would silently devour him, little by little.

“What are you doing?” Si-eun's agonized voice echoed around the room, sounding extremely different from his natural tone, hesitant and troubled. When Soo-ho finally came out of his trance, he noticed that the scent of coffee and chocolate seemed stale, like a Starbucks frappuccino that had been left out of the fridge for too long. It was a little funny to compare the omega's smell to something so banal, but there was nothing funny about the way Si-eun was staring at him. He looked scared, sad, and angry all at the same time. "Why are you just standing there, looking at me like that?"

Si-eun sniffed, to his absolute despair. He didn't need a sobbing omega right now, he doubted he'd even be able to handle it. Si-eun started to shake, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment; and though he had been crying silently until now, something in the look in his eyes  — so, so melancholic — announced that something much greater was about to happen.

It was like he was going to start howling at any moment in the most painful way possible. Soo-ho felt like his heart couldn't fit in his chest.

"That smell…" Si-eun muttered in a low, almost hissing voice. Soo-ho had momentarily forgotten that he had a scent too, swept up in the delicious variations of coffee and chocolate and all that went along with it. He'd never been so happy to be overpowered by a scent before. “You're disgusted. Angry. Is it… Is it…”

Is it me?

He couldn't even finish his sentence, feeling completely horrified. Normally, Si-eun wouldn't give two fucks about what others thought of him, but the mere possibility of Soo-ho being repulsed by him was like a knife in his heart, impetuous, twisting and turning as it carved deeper. All the air in his lungs was gone and he closed his eyes, in physical pain; he felt like his head weighed a hundred pounds.

“Of course not.”

In the blink of an eye, to his relief, Soo-ho was at the foot of his bed, kneeling, silencing all his worries. When Si-eun opened his eyes again, Soo-ho was looking at him in a way that he couldn't decipher in his drunken state, but he adored it anyway. Adoration, perhaps. He wasn't immune to indulgent thoughts. And Soo-ho wasn't either.

The alpha had an impulse to call him other dazzling pet names, kiss his tears away, put him on a pedestal, and worship him until he felt better than he had ever felt before. But he didn't have the right to do any of that — hell, he didn't even have the right to feel like that. No matter how hurtful Si-eun's words were, he was right; they didn't know each other well.

But why does it feel like we do, though?

“Hey.” Soo-ho called him, searching his gaze. Si-eun could see the way his broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh as he turned his face completely. "Hey..." He whispered, in that deep voice that Si-eun was beginning to associate exclusively with himself, and touched his cheek. Si-eun trembled a little as if he had received a shock, but then he leaned towards his large palms. “Don’t cry.” He said, more a request than a command, and took the liberty of wiping away his tears, wiping them away with his thumbs. Si-eun thought that he wouldn't mind crying if Soo-ho were to caress his face every time, but he would die before admitting something like that.

“I'm not crying.” He murmured. The look Soo-ho gave him made him feel ridiculous and smothered with affection at the same time. He probably sounded petulant.

“Of course you're not.” Soo-ho looked down, trying to hide a smile and failing miserably. Seeing those discreet dimples, Si-eun forgot why he was sad; his face was no longer wet and Soo-ho's touch made his skin tingle pleasantly; Soo-ho's scent was calm and normal again, and therefore he had no reason to feel less than amazing. It was complex, that sudden mood shifts, but Si-eun hoped, in the back of his mind, that it had to do with the heat and nothing else.

He didn't have much more time to think. Soo-ho turned to him, looking into his eyes with tenderness and maybe a little bit of malice. But his words were warm and sincere when he said:

"I'm cooking something for you." His hands, which were previously touching Si-eun's face, went down to his lap, where he intertwined his fingers with the omega's, making him drop the notebook. It didn't matter if he had left, he was there now, and he wouldn't let Si-eun forget. He noticed that the boy's face turned redder than before, but decided not to comment. “Let's go to the kitchen, I'm almost done. Do you think you can go over there?” Because if you don't, I'm going to have to carry you there or bring the food over here, or spoon feed you—

“Yes.” He replied. Si-eun's voice sounded softer now and caressed Soo-ho's ears. The alpha blinked back to reality and stood up, still not letting go of the smaller boy's hands.

“Okay, let's go.”

Si-eun felt his mouth water again. Soo-ho looked so much taller than him like that. Whenever he touched him, the pain didn't seem to be strong enough to stop him at all.

“Okay.”

They left the room still hand in hand.

When they reached the kitchen, Soo-ho had to ask Si-eun to wait a bit. He looked restless, impatient, and uncomfortable, but he didn't complain. From the little time he had interacted with Si-eun — but from the much he had observed him — Soo-ho knew that he was direct, but he didn't like conflicts. And, to his pleasant surprise, for someone who had such a monotonous look, Si-eun got flustered very easily.

He tried not to stare too hard; he was a man on a mission, he told himself. Soo-ho took Si-eun to the table and left him sitting, asking him to stay there while he finished cooking. Letting go of his hands was extremely difficult, more than Soo-ho was prepared for, and he tried not to react to the way Si-eun's scent immediately changed when they stopped touching. Even with his back to the omega, Soo-ho could feel his discomfort as if it were his own, incredibly aware of the involuntary movement of his leg, swaying up and down, as well as his tired sighs and the frantic way he looked around, unable to remain still. Soo-ho tried not to stare too hard, but he couldn't; he turned around once every five seconds, as if he couldn't bear to lose sight of him. He had never finished preparing a meal so quickly.

When he finally put the bowl in front of him — a traditional ramen, with every typical ingredient — Si-eun stopped fidgeting. He stared at the food for what seemed like an eternity, until he looked at Soo-ho with wide, hungry eyes, as if he didn't dare cross a line, as if he was asking permission.

Soo-ho took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Around Si-eun, he felt like he was constantly on the verge of losing control, struggling to resist something that would completely consume him. He cleared his throat and said:

“You can eat it. It's yours.”

Si-eun looked at the dish again, as if it was the first time he was seeing that recipe. He picked up the metal chopsticks with weak hands, but he wasn't shaking anymore. He seemed to be questioning the whole world in his head, and Soo-ho would have given all his money to get inside his brain and see the contents of his thoughts.

Si-eun looked at him again. “What about you?”

Soo-ho couldn't help but smile this time, accompanied by a nasal laugh. Si-eun remained with the same expression, but had to stop himself from asking what the hell was so funny. He didn't even mind the heat in his cheeks; he hadn't stopped blushing since Soo-ho had taken his hands, which were smaller than his and fit perfectly together.

"You don't have to worry about me," Soo-ho replied with an obviously teasing tone. He had a mischievous smirk adorning his lips, and Si-eun was tempted to shut him up in unusual ways. “I've already eaten. You slept a lot, you know? It's half past five in the afternoon.”

Si-eun turned his head towards the clock. He had blacked out for over six hours and left Soo-ho alone in an unfamiliar apartment. By the way he was wearing his mother's apron and handling his kitchen utensils with mastery, Si-eun guessed he got used to it. It made him feel oddly cared for, strangely good.

His stomach growled loudly. He frowned a little and picked up the chopsticks; besides having a motorcycle and being able to fight three guys simultaneously, Soo-ho also knew how to cook. He was getting more and more irritated by his inability to find flaws in the other boy; or at least, flaws that were not appealing to his eyes.

It was with great irritation that he began to eat, but in the first bite, his entire nonconformity act was undone. It tasted wonderful; perfectly robust, not too salty or too bland, the meat was just right, and the noodles melted in his mouth. Si-eun was sure he had let out a few delighted moans, but he couldn't seem to care. Next thing he knew, he was gobbling up like a starving man — and maybe that's what he was, starving for something real, and rich, and nourishing. He had even forgotten that Soo-ho was watching his every move; it was just him and his plate of ramen.

Soo-ho, on the other hand, couldn't look away. In front of him, the omega seemed lost in its own world, committed only to its food. His reaction after tasting ramen for the first time would be etched in Soo-ho's memory forever: the way his eyes widened in surprise; how he looked down at the bowl, mesmerized, and couldn't stop eating; the way his arms, once weak, had taken on strength. Now, he was a little desperate, even though he looked small and frail, with his messy hair and pink face.

Soo-ho resisted the urge to go over and mess them up even more, to pinch his now even fuller cheeks, to kiss his forehead and ask him if he liked the food just to massage his ego. He knew he'd made quite an impression with his culinary skills, and he felt that familiar feeling of pride fill his chest. There was nothing more satisfying for an alpha than knowing he had pleased his omega.

Wait. His?

Soo-ho coughed nervously, pounding his chest as if he wanted to dislodge a trapped furball. Si-eun didn't even flinch, absorbed.

"So…" He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts. "Looks like you haven't had a decent meal in a long time."

Si-eun continued eating; whether he was ignoring him on purpose or not, Soo-ho couldn't say. The suction sounds and the frantic clatter of the metal chopsticks against the glass bowl were almost comical — he wasn't trying to be polite at all. How cute.

“I had to buy most of the ingredients, you had practically nothing here.” He continued, already used to talking to himself. “What do you eat on a daily basis? Don't tell me you eat your instant noodles raw, straight out of the package.”

Si-eun didn't answer, but he was listening. Soo-ho only got to know this when he lowered the bowl, full cheeks and natural pout, and stared at him with wide eyes, like a rabbit caught in a trap, like a guilty child. Cute, cute, so cute.

He found everything about Si-eun cute. He was afraid that one day Si-eun would come up to him, say he murdered an entire group of people in cold blood and Soo-ho would just respond with a casual "Well, I'm sure you had your reasons!"

He shook his head slightly. His thoughts were getting more uncontrollable — and stranger — by the minute.

And then, the object of all his questionable daydreams put down the chopsticks and placed the bowl on the table, previously tilted so that it covered his entire face. Too soon, it was over. He had devoured that entire ramen in less than two minutes; he hadn't even realized how hungry he was. He refrained from asking Soo-ho for another portion; he didn't want to abuse his goodwill any more than he already had, and he was well-fed. The alpha was staring at him with anticipation as if he were the jury of a cooking show; Si-eun didn't have much to compare it to — he didn't remember what his mother's cooking tasted like anymore, and his father barely made much of an example — so Soo-ho's ramen had earned a very high rating.

He probably should have said something now, but he couldn't. He should say thank you, drop a compliment, lighten the mood, but something stopped him from doing so. He hated breaking Soo-ho's unspoken expectations, even though the alpha didn't seem to expect anything more from him at the moment. Somewhere in Si-eun's unconscious mind, he liked to imagine that gentle smile was reserved for him alone. And then, Soo-ho asked:

“Are you feeling better?”

Si-eun blinked a few times, looked away, and looked back. He hadn't even vocalized to Soo-ho that he was feeling bad, so he could only assume that he had lost his well-trained ability to hide his feelings. Was he feeling better? His head wasn't hurting as much anymore, his stomach was full, his eyes didn't threaten to spill rivers of tears anymore. Yes, he was better, and so he nodded. He caught some of Soo-ho's scent and inferred that he was proud. A proud alpha right in his dining room. Si-eun turned his gaze to the wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Said alpha finally decided to sit down, taking the seat right in front of him. Si-eun was forced to stare back at him when he heard the sound of aluminum packaging. When he turned around, there were several pills on the table, gleaming in the artificial light from the lamp.

“I know you're still in pain.” Soo-ho said with the certainty of someone who knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west. Si-eun arched his eyebrows. “I went to the pharmacy and bought some pills; here we have some for headaches, for muscle pain, for colic, for stomach pain, for nausea, for appetite stimulation…”

“Soo-ho.” Si-eun muttered in disbelief. The alpha didn't seem to have heard him.

"...For fever, for dizziness, for sleep induction..."

“Soo-ho!” Si-eun called him louder. The other boy froze, his index finger pointing at what looked like the twentieth packet of medicine. “That's too many pills.”

Soo-ho shook his head up and down, with a slightly disdainful look.

“Yes, and you have too many symptoms.” He replied, but upon realizing that his tone sounded ruder than usual, he quickly looked around for something else. Thinking about the excruciating pain Si-eun was feeling made him think of Young-bin and thinking of Young-bin made him want to punch the wall. “I also bought a hot compress.” He showed an orange water compress as if it were the most innovative product on the technology market, disguising his indignation with a stupid yet adorable smile at the same time. Si-eun was starting to get a headache again; where did he get that from?

“Soo-ho…” Si-eun was frowning and his tone was fearful, scared. Soo-ho's smile slowly faded. “How many things did you buy?”

Si-eun regretted having asked.

The alpha showed him a huge bag full of products made exclusively for omegas in heat — nesting accessories, scent dispersers, an air freshener, soft fabrics with calming scents, massage oils, and, to Si-eun's complete horror, a pack of diapers.

"Listen, I know you're probably never going to use this," He started to defend himself as soon as he saw Si-eun's embarrassed look, disbelieving and mortified. “but I wanted to buy it just in case. I don't know what it's like to be releasing slick all the time, so in case you feel uncomfortable…”

“Soo-ho, I refuse to wear a diaper.”

Soo-ho nodded, not at all surprised.

“Like I said, just in case.” He set the diaper aside, out of sight. Si-eun just didn't throw it away because he was considerate of the money Soo-ho had spent. His eyes widened when he realized.

"Soo-ho," He muttered, growing more and more horrified. “how much did you spend?”

The alpha, once so chatty, became eerily quiet. He had the audacity to look away when he knew it would be impossible to change the subject. Si-eun could feel his fear confirming in the air.

“Soo-ho!” He demanded. The alpha muttered something under his breath. “What did you say?”

“Three hundred thousand won.”

“WHAT?”

“I know I know”

“Soo-ho! My God-!”

“Listen, it's fine, really.”

“No, nothing is fine, that's a lot of money!”

“So? It's my money, not yours.”

"But you spent your money on me and-"

“I want to take care of you.” Soo-ho confessed, clear and direct, so brutally honest. Si-eun felt his breath catch in his throat, suffocating him. He opened his mouth one, two, three times, but no words came out. Soo-ho ran a hand through his hair, showing a little bit of his forehead. Si-eun was paralyzed, as if under a spell. “I spent all of this because I wanted to. Is it really that hard for you to accept help?”

Si-eun remained silent, staring at him with his soul exposed. Soo-ho felt privileged to be able to refute what was said about Si-eun behind his back; his eyes were the most expressive he had ever seen, filled with strong, indecipherable emotion. Perhaps it was truly a privilege that Si-eun wasn't so lethargic by his side, volatile and vulnerable; maybe it was just the circumstances or some random coincidence. Either way, Soo-ho was grateful to be able to take the few words he had left out of his mouth and leave his lips parted.

“If you don't need these things in this heat, you might need them in the next one.” He continued, only now realizing how hard his heart was pounding, threatening to crack his ribs. He ignored it. “All these products have more than one year of shelf life and can be reused. I don't think I wasted my money if that's what you're worried about.”

They remained silent again, staring at each other. It wasn't an uncomfortable or dangerous silence like the other times; it was an implied understanding, flattered, even a little grateful on Si-eun's part, and contemplative on Soo-ho's part. Still, Si-eun seemed resigned to something he didn't agree with; if he could see himself through Soo-ho's eyes — with his chaotic hair and red cheeks and salt around his perfectly shaped eyelids — he would understand why Soo-ho wanted to take care of him, pamper him, spend all his money and fight half the world on his behalf.

With a great sigh, the omega stood up. Soo-ho approached to help him, but Si-eun raised a hand, indicating that it wasn’t needed. He straightened his posture and looked around. He was indeed in pain, but he wasn't sure he wanted to take all those meds just yet. And then, feeling extremely sweaty and sticky, he said:

“I need a shower.”

He had just stated it so that Soo-ho would know, so they would end the conversation there. He didn't expect him to do anything — he'd already done too much. But he should have known he didn't have a ferocious, assertive wolf with him, at least not at the moment. Soo-ho was as helpful and present as a golden retriever.

“Okay, I can help.” He said with the most casual tone in the world, making Si-eun blush furiously. Doesn’t he listen to his own words?

“That’s not necessary”

“It's not what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I'm thinking?” Si-eun snapped impatiently. He had lost count of how many times Soo-ho had said “I know” as if he had known Si-eun all his life. Things between them were starting to get complicated, not that they'd ever been simple. But Soo-ho wasn't the least bit shaken by the irritation in his voice; in fact, he used it as fuel.

“You're completely red, you must be thinking inappropriate things.” He said, matter-of-factly, and there was no way he was being innocent now; no, he was teasing him on purpose. Si-eun scoffed, rolling his eyes. Some people seemed to get a kick out of getting reactions out of him. “But it's nothing like that. I bought several bath accessories—“

“Of course you did.”

"And hygiene products too." He continued, unperturbed. He looked at Si-eun silently for a few seconds and sighed, leaning over the table. Si-eun tried not to pay attention to the size of his muscles and how they flexed alluringly. “I'm here to help you, I’ve told you that already. Your arms are weak, you can barely stand up without support; please let me help you. I promise I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, all you have to do is talk to me.”

Si-eun could feel it again, the sincerity in his voice. That pleading tone, desperate for approval. Si-eun wondered if that was a trait of Soo-ho or of alphas in general, that need to provide, to protect, to care to the point of suffocation. But his brown eyes melted all his uneasiness and he was swept away by a familiar feeling that made him have to take a deep breath. Soo-ho didn't leave, he's here; he was so relieved when he realized it, so why did he insist on acting like Soo-ho wasn't there?

Deep down, Si-eun was aware that he would reject that offer under any other circumstances. But something inside of him — something he knew very well what it was — found that proposal very attractive. Maybe he was looking for the selfishness inside him, the selfishness of feeling Soo-ho's firm arms mapping his skin, drawing through his hair, so close to his body again; his omega got agitated just thinking about it.

His throat went dry for the thousandth time since waking up; he was intermittently thirsty, but he didn't see much need to ask for water now. He wanted to take off his clothes and get clean, and Soo-ho was right in front of him, and he was sure he could only be completely insane when he looked him in the eyes and said:

“Fine.”

They arranged the logistics very neatly.

Si-eun entered the bathroom first, already with a change of clothes ready. His underwear was completely stained with slick, and he wondered how he hadn't died of embarrassment yet; Soo-ho had certainly noticed. He cleaned himself up a little, just the essentials, and put on rarely used swimming trunks. He stared at himself in the mirror for about five minutes, changing his mind every two seconds, wondering if he really was about to get in the shower with an alpha when all that stood between him and complete nudity was a single fabric that was way too easy to remove. Si-eun thought a lot and, naturally, had his own share of paranoia, and he began to question his ability to make decisions. What if Soo-ho wasn't as nice as he appeared to be? What if he had ulterior motives?

The knock on the door almost made his heart jump out of his mouth.

“Can I come in?” His voice went through the wall like an electric current, making Si-eun's hair stand on end. Too late to back out now.

Si-eun cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and counted to three. “Yes.”

Soo-ho didn't ogle at his body as he expected — or rather, feared — he would. He brought with him a small basin with various bath items — fluffy sponges, shampoo, conditioner, soap, scrub, oils, lotions — and, in his other hand, a plastic stool. He went to the stall even before Si-eun, and placed the stool there, arranging the products in the basin in order. Si-eun stared at him for an eternity, until Soo-ho felt his gaze piercing his back and turned around, showing him that mischievous smirk again.

"Since we don't have a bathtub." He pointed to the stool. Si-eun swallowed hard. Oh, he wants me to sit there. He felt embarrassed and touched at the same time, unsettled by the way he said “ we” so easily, as if they had a shared routine, as if that was normal. He was certainly pouting now.

When Soo-ho appeared to have finished, Si-eun took the initiative and went to sit down. But Soo-ho gently touched his shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Si-eun suppressed a shudder, feeling his touch like a burning iron.

“Wait, let me adjust the water temperature." He murmured, moving closer to the thermostat and turning it a little. "You don't have a fever, do you?"

Si-eun touched his body involuntarily. It was hot, but not to the point of making him feel feverish.

“I don't think so.”

Soo-ho looked at him sideways, as if contemplating touching him again just to be sure. Si-eun couldn't suppress the way his shoulders shook this time.

But Soo-ho remained where he was. He turned the thermostat and set it to medium temperature. "Not too hot, not too cold, just in case."

He pointed to the stool for Si-eun to sit down, and he did. He had his back to Soo-ho, and he couldn't tell if that was good or bad — bad, because he couldn't see what the alpha was doing; good because the alpha couldn't see what he was doing. Maybe that was for the best.

The first contact of the water on his skin was gentle, but it made him shiver nonetheless. He could feel Soo-ho tense up behind him, but he didn't say anything, and Si-eun was glad he didn’t; soon he was getting used to the temperature of the water, perfectly neutral, and he didn't even bother with the fabric of his trunks sticking to his thighs. He was sitting, making no effort, and he sighed as the water hit his hair, cooling his once hot head from thinking so much, from hurting so much.

Only then did he realize that Soo-ho was using the showerhead, directing the water pressure where he deemed necessary. Si-eun tried hard not to turn around, curious to see him from that angle, to know if his expression was calm or concentrated. That moment was soothing and reassuring; Si-eun regretted even thinking of refusing.

Eventually, Soo-ho turned off the shower. The jets of water drastically decreased until they no longer touched Si-eun's skin. He could hear Soo-ho picking up a package and opening it, making a popping noise echo through the room.

"Can I soap you up?" He asked in a low voice, a little hesitant. Si-eun wanted to be able to see him now, but he didn't risk breaking the mood. He nodded and noticed, for the first time in hours, a slight change in Soo-ho's scent.

Upon hearing the sound of liquid soap dripping, he wondered how Soo-ho would do it; whether he would use one of the body sponges or use his bare hands, what types of movements he would make, whether he would dare to go beyond his upper body. Soon, Si-eun felt the soft texture of the bath sponge on his back and tried to hide how disappointed he was. Really, it was better that he wasn't facing the taller boy; so Soo-ho couldn't understand his simple change of expression as a desire for his hands. And so Si-eun wouldn't be able to see Soo-ho's amazed look as he made circular movements with foam on his shoulders, on his back, near his neck. There was serious anticipation in the air, something that dared them to meet each other's gaze, menacing and tempting.

But suddenly, the tension dissipated. Soo-ho dropped the sponge, almost impatiently. He bent down to Si-eun's shoulder height and pulled the basin with the bath items closer. Si-eun could feel his breath against his skin, hot, tingling his pores.

“I bought some scrubs,” He began, taking two products out of the basket. Si-eun turned a little to face him; his face was glowing, his cheekbones were red, and he looked intent, still with his head down. Si-eun gulped and gripped the corners of the stool tightly. “when used correctly, they can be very relaxing.” He looked up and found Si-eun's eyes on his as if the smaller boy wanted to memorize his features. He knew exactly what that felt like. "Do you prefer the almond or the vanilla one?”

Si-eun turned his eyes from side to side, but he wasn't watching the scrubs. He studied Soo-ho's expression — so generous; selfless, even — and then glanced at the basin on the floor; there were so many products there. But he couldn't even pretend to be angry; a part of him found it oddly pleasing.

“You are so over the top” He found himself muttering despite himself, though his tone bore no trace of his earlier irritation. He sounded almost fond to his own ears. From the way Soo-ho smiled, teeth and all, he seemed to have noticed it too.

"And you…" He opened one of the scrubs and placed a generous amount on his left hand. Almond it is. With his other hand, he squeezed Si-eun's cheek. "Are way too cute for your own good."

It was great to be able to say that out loud and express what he felt around Si-eun. He could easily get used to this: that back-and-forth banter that bordered on flirtation, their eyes exploring each other's faces as if nothing else mattered, their scents mingling in an unspoken battle of dominance. When he slowly got up, Si-eun reluctantly turned away, as if he didn't want to break eye contact. I could definitely get used to this.

Now, with his back to him again, Si-eun felt a little lost. For a moment he wanted to be alone; Soo-ho's presence there filled him with anxiety, but not in a bad way. It was a buzzing anxiety that made him question his every next move, that made him crave things he'd never even paid attention to before. And then, sooner than he was prepared, Soo-ho — finally, finally — touched him.

It was a shy, experimental touch. The sensation was very similar to what he had felt when Soo-ho had rubbed his belly for the first time, those butterflies in the pit of his stomach, those involuntary shivers, and the urge to make embarrassing noises. Si-eun prided himself on his ability to remain stoic in the most extreme situations, but every hair on his body stood on end and he found himself a slave to his own body's reactions. There was no hiding it, his face probably said it all.

Soo-ho's touch didn't stay contained and it wasn't long before it became exploratory. His hands roamed the length of the back of his neck and shoulders, making sure not to leave an inch out, almost greedily. Si-eun struggled not to moan every time Soo-ho found his tight spots and squeezed his fingers in an impromptu massage that worked perfectly to relax him. At one point, Soo-ho’s right hand trailed from the top of his neck to the base of his spine, his fingers curled into a crooked fist, scratching him with the texture of the scrub and making him shiver involuntarily. Si-eun tried to ignore how Soo-ho's hands felt too big against his skin, how the pressure of his touch made him ecstatic, calm and uneasy at the same time. He tried to ignore the feeling of his blood traveling through his entire body until it pooled right in the area covered by his only piece of clothing, tried to ignore how much he wanted to turn around and ask him to touch his whole body as he saw fit.

He bit his lip and took a deep breath through clenched teeth. He hated the effect Soo-ho had on him, he really did. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if he had the same effect on Soo-ho as well.

After all, his hands were roaming his body for much longer than necessary; he didn't need that much exfoliation.

Soo-ho would never admit it — although he was sure Si-eun was smart enough to figure it out on his own — but he was having a lot more fun than he had anticipated, or maybe, a lot more than he should have. Si-eun's skin wasn't so pale, but it was paler than his own, and the contrast fascinated him. There was always a contrast between him and Si-eun; height, temperature, personality, skin tones. He was happy to find out, too, that his skin was soft, unlike his own hands, calloused from fiddling with the motorcycle's handlebars and throwing a few punches here and there when needed. That made him touch him much more willingly, more precisely, as if he wanted to stamp the mark of his touch on his skin so that he would always remember where his hands had been.

Curiously enough, Si-eun had some birthmarks, small dots scattered across his shoulders like stars; freckles, Soo-ho realized, which were unfairly mesmerizing. Unfair; Si-eun was so unfair to him sometimes, being so beautiful and so untouchable, unreachable. But I’m touching him now.

And how wonderful it was to touch him. Soo-ho found himself daydreaming about all his bumps and curves, about the texture of his skin against his. He wanted to feel where he was hard and where he was soft. He wanted to touch him all over; touch him in places he knew he shouldn't want to go near, places that would elicit whimpers and cries out of him. He wanted to touch Si-eun somewhere deep inside and make a home for himself there, where no one could ever reach them, could never bother the two of them.

Soo-ho took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth. He could feel things were going a little too far, so he stopped rubbing the smaller boy's skin, but not before squeezing his shoulder in one last caress, watching the way the freckles glistened under his hands. When he turned on the showerhead, the water washed away the traces of exfoliant and revealed that Si-eun's skin was red. Soo-ho wrinkled his nose; he had overdone a little, nearly skinned the boy alive; still, he found himself suppressing the bizarre urge to bite him and see the imprint of his teeth decorating that flesh that would surely be soft and wonderful against his lips.

Even with his skin raw, Si-eun wasn't complaining; in fact, he was doing his best not to stare at Soo-ho, both hands in his lap, a few fingers fiddling with the ends of his swimming trunks. He looked like he wanted to hide himself, nervous. Fucking cute.

"I'm going to wash your hair now." Soo-ho cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse again, but he hoped Si-eun hadn't noticed. The boy trembled a little even before Soo-ho's hands came into contact with his scalp; and when they did, Soo-ho was the one who trembled. His hair is soft, just like I imagined.

He noticed Si-eun's breath catch in his throat immediately, caught in his chest in surprise. Soo-ho liked to think that he was a gentle guy, but he also had a mean streak to him; he wasn't gentle when he purposely pulled a few tufts harder than necessary, feeling the boy suppress a whimper. He wasn't gentle when he scratched his fingernail lightly across his scalp, tracing indecipherable patterns, making the boy shiver violently beneath his hands. He wanted to make Si-eun moan and cry, mold his body like putty in his hands, because he knew, and he would be a fool to deny it, that he was putty in Si-eun's hands too. It was almost vindictive, in a way; vengeful in the most loving way possible.

He continued massaging his hair with shampoo. He washed it a little and then decided to put on some conditioner, focusing more on the ends. When his fingers found the skin above Si-eun's left ear, caressing it as they had been doing, the omega let out a hiss, followed by a short, imperceptible moan, which Soo-ho could only hear because he was so close. He thought, for a second, that he had hurt him, but Si-eun was too tense and too alert not to look guilty. No, those sounds hadn't been painful at all, and Soo-ho couldn't contain his thoughts now.

He found himself wondering what kinds of sounds Si-eun would make if he repeated the touch on that spot with a little more intention; in what ways his body would tingle under his if Soo-ho kissed him there, tracing his tongue and leaving a hickey that would eventually turn purple. He wondered how sensitive his skin was to the touch, and found himself wanting to tease the omega until he admitted, through pouts and tears, that he had been holding off his moans the entire time; he found himself imagining the contact their lips would make, the way he would lift him up until the smaller boy had no choice but to wrap his legs around his waist and hold on for dear life on his shoulders, maybe he would even trace his hands through his hair like Soo-ho had done to his skin while their tongues would meet aggressively. He wanted to find out where Si-eun's blood pulsed stronger, where else he could draw sighs and hisses and moans out of him, what else could he do to make him feel so good, to show how much he cared.

As if a movie had been paused at the best part, like a tape rewound, Soo-ho's grandmother's voice echoed through his mind like a warning. He remembered his earlier paranoia, remembered his disgust at being the least bit similar to Young-bin; then again, those were things Young-bin would think, things Young-bin would act on, without any control . He shook his head as if that would make his intrusive thoughts fall like snowflakes.

Soo-ho looked down, still in a daze, a little scared by the force of his thoughts. There was a tent in his pants, no longer able to hide his stiffness. He took a deep breath and tried to think of unpleasant things. Rotten food, athlete's foot, boy's locker room after gym class, Mr. Wang in a bikini. None of that really worked; his whole world still smelled like chocolate coffee.

“Soo-ho,” Si-eun called him, pulling the alpha out of his daydreams in an almost cruel way, given that he was their protagonist. His voice held a note of desperation, pure and simple fear; it was taut and husky as if he hadn't used it in a long time. “why did you stop?”

He hadn't even realized that he had completely stopped his ministrations. He probably looked insane, standing there and staring at the other boy like he wanted to devour him. Soo-ho opened his mouth, but the words didn't come all at once. Soo-ho took the showerhead and turned on the water, thinking about how to make that situation less awkward. He couldn’t.

“I’m Sorry.” That's all that came out in the end. It was also the most honest thing he could say. I’m sorry for thinking of you that way; sorry for, deep down, being exactly what you feared; sorry for not being able to get you out of my head; I’m sorry, you are so precious to me. “We're almost done.”

Si-eun's expression was one of deep discontent. Soo-ho kept saying that — we — and he didn't have the heart to correct him. Even with all those tender gestures and words, it was as if the water was washing away all the evidence of what Soo-ho had done to his skin, the paths he had traced with his hands, the places he had gazed at for longer than necessary. There was a barrier between them, large and palpable, which they could not cross; a barrier that Si-eun was more and more convinced that he had built, and that, eventually, he would have to break it himself. He just wasn't sure if he should, if he could — maybe, who knows, Soo-ho didn't want anything that Si-eun secretly desired. That thought alone made him want to howl in agony.

But he didn't dwell on his sadness; when he realized it, Soo-ho was wrapping him in a towel like he was a chocolate Swiss roll and lifting him up, using another towel right after to dry his hair. Normally, Si-eun would scold him for wasting too many laundry items, but he felt pampered and decided not to say anything. It was strange for him to admit to himself that Soo-ho's hands would always be welcome on his body.

"I'll leave you alone to change, okay?" Eventually, Soo-ho stopped drying him, but he was waiting for his approval. When Si-eun nodded, he nodded back, leaving the bathroom. He didn't move the stool, and the basin remained in the corner of the shower stall, full of products he didn't have enough time to use. Si-eun started to think about the next showers he would need to take and felt his cheeks heat up. He dressed with a swiftness contrary to his body's lethargy, tired and drowsy even after hours of dreamless sleep.

When he left, Soo-ho was waiting for him by the door, staring at the very few family portraits on the wall. He turned as soon as he noticed his presence, a calmer expression on his face; he was holding a glass of water like someone holding a can of beer. They stared at each other for a few seconds, as if they didn't know who should open their mouth first, until Soo-ho held out his hand, a small pill in the center of his palm. Si-eun was about to protest, but Soo-ho's eyes were pleading and wide.

“For your muscle pains.” He stated calmly. Seeing that Si-eun hadn't answered, he lifted the glass of water with his other hand. So that was for him too. Si-eun felt a strange emotion get stuck in his throat, choking him. “Please.”

Against his will, but unable to deny the alpha, Si-eun took the pill and swallowed it in one gulp, big enough to make Soo-ho satisfied. When he finished, the taller boy nodded in agreement with his throat, in that way that never seemed to not have an electrifying effect on Si-eun. Soo-ho took the glass and walked to the kitchen without saying anything. Si-eun stood where he was for a moment, not knowing whether to follow him or not, until his feet were slowly leading him after the comforting scent of pine trees as if it were second nature. He ended up finding Soo-ho halfway, right in front of his bedroom door.

“I made this hot compress for you.” He showed the same orange gel pack he’d shown earlier. Si-eun didn't show any reaction, but inside, he was like a volcano ready to erupt; if Soo-ho made one more altruistic gesture for his well-being he would not be responsible for his emotional responses. “I had to reheat it a few times because I didn't know when you'd wake up, but I think the temperature is fine.”

Si-eun looked at the compress, then at Soo-ho, then at the compress, then at Soo-ho again.

"Where am I going to put this on?"

The alpha appeared to be holding back a laugh. Si-eun bit the inside of his cheeks.

"On your belly." He replied, in that obvious tone. Si-eun remembered how he fell asleep that morning and nearly frowned. Soo-ho didn't want to stroke his belly anymore? Was he uncomfortable with that? Those thoughts were so foreign to his own functioning. At least now he could blame them on his omega. “Unless you don't want to go back to the nest right now.” Soo-ho stated, but something in the way he expressed that sentence said that he thought the opposite, that he knew Si-eun thought the opposite too.

Si-eun didn't meet his eyes when he answered, staring at the wooden door. The way Soo-ho could read him like a book was starting to get really annoying. “I really am tired.” And he truly was; those hours of sleep were more like an effect of the heat-inducing drug than actual rest. He felt like he had been hit by a truck.

Soo-ho nodded. “Okay, let's go.”

Soo-ho helped him lie down on the bed in much the same way as he had done before. He adjusted the pillows, wrapped him in a thin sheet, and made sure he was comfortable, all with the clearest consent on Si-eun's part. Before the omega could ask him to stroke his belly again, he took the hot compress, and Si-eun didn't have the heart to reject his act of service, even if he wanted to. To his delight, Soo-ho didn't refrain from touching him and laced his hand in his, massaging his palm with the most unreadable look in his eyes staring down at their tangled fingers. Strangely, the pill seemed to have worked, and the heat from the compress wasn't all that bad, even though Si-eun much preferred Soo-ho's human warmth surrounding him from head to toe. It was then that he asked, dismayed:

"Aren't you going to lie down?"

Soo-ho finally ripped his gaze from his hands, staring at him almost sheepishly.

“If you want to…”

Si-eun blinked, open-mouthed. He couldn't understand Soo-ho at times; he had done a thousand things without Si-eun asking, without waiting for approval, but there were other things he didn't dare to do without explicit permission. Si-eun wondered if he would have to repeat himself every time he wanted Soo-ho to enter the nest; he thought he had already made it clear that he was welcome. Maybe there was something he didn't know, something between the lines.

“Of course I want to.” He grumbled. He probably looked ridiculous, fully covered, lying in a fetal position clutching a warm compress and wearing such a grumpy frown. But Soo-ho was looking at him in a way that made him feel completely naked, exposed and vulnerable, that made his face erupt in the most diverse shades of red.

Soon, he was lying beside him, exactly where he was that morning, and Si-eun could feel his omega kicking inside him; when Soo-ho lay down in his nest, Si-eun could swear that the whole world boiled down to that room, to the contact of their bodies on each other, warm against the fabrics he had chosen, Soo-ho's perfect scent mixing with his. He sighed loudly, without even realizing it, feeling his eyes grow heavy. Yes, the whole world didn't matter; the whole world was the way Soo-ho was looking at him right now.

He didn't even realize that he had started to stare at him too, nor when he had turned to Soo-ho's side instead of keeping his back to him. Maybe a part of him couldn't believe he was really there, that he wasn't spending such a difficult time alone. Up close, Soo-ho looked unnaturally delicate; his hair was smooth and silky, and Si-eun wondered if it was as soft to the touch as it looked. His cheekbones gave him an innocent and boyish look, but the composition of his face was already that of a grown man. His eyes were darker than usual in the bedroom at dusk, and Si-eun remembered seeing variations in his irises when the sun lit his face, or when he had wiped out Young-bin's entire gang in seconds; he could imagine how his pupils dilated and contracted.

He didn't mean to stare at his lips. It was only natural that his eyes would eventually land there.

Si-eun stared there for long seconds, silently admiring the shape of his cupid's bow and the way that particular flesh looked full and red. When he turned his gaze upwards, he noticed that Soo-ho was doing the same. But his eyes weren't curious and experimental like Si-eun's; no, they were intense and piercing, never blinking, consumed by something Si-eun couldn't identify.

Suddenly, Soo-ho propped himself up on his elbows, hovering over Si-eun entirely, just shy of covering him with his body weight completely. Si-eun flinched in reflex, but felt a cold sensation in his stomach capable of completely nullifying the effect of the hot compress. Soo-ho's body was burning like a furnace above him, and the fact that he was taller and stronger than him wasn’t helping, making Si-eun feel completely disadvantaged. Soo-ho's gaze alternated between his eyes, his lips, and the tip of his nose, eventually settling on his lips which formed an involuntary pout that Si-eun was only aware of because it had been a target of teasing; but now it was the target of something completely different, something that Si-eun didn't even know he wanted, but it was now the only thing he could think of.

He wanted Soo-ho's lips on his, just to see how it’d feel.

"Si-eun-ah…" Soo-ho broke the silence, making every cell in the omega's body scream in anticipation. He almost grabbed the boy's wrists above him in an attempt to keep steady. "Can I..." Soo-ho opened his mouth, but closed it soon after. Being there seemed to be painful for him, with the way he was gripping the sheets beside Si-eun's head, with the way his forehead was a little furrowed. It was then that Si-eun knew that he was thinking the same thing as him; that's when he knew, too, that he didn't want to. “Scent you?”

Si-eun felt an overwhelming urge to cry, even though he wasn't sure why. He knew, however, that he was disappointed when he shouldn't have been; he swallowed all his emotions and complaints, looked the alpha deep in the eyes, and replied, out of breath:

“Yes.” And that was enough. Enough for Soo-ho to bring his face closer to his as he wanted so much, and put his nose right over his scent gland.

Si-eun had never felt that way before. His whole body became tense, and when Soo-ho touched the tip of his nose, slightly, on the sensitive point of his neck, he felt something akin to pleasure coil deep inside him, down on his stomach, traveling through his spine. Soo-ho’s nose was cold against the warm expense of skin under his ear, but his breath was a hot stimulant; soon enough, Soo-ho inhaled greedily and Si-eun felt his legs quiver and tremble pathetically like twigs. He resisted the urge to grip Soo-ho’s shoulders with the sharp ends of his nails, but quickly realized he wouldn’t be able to do so for much longer.

Soo-ho, on the other hand, was delighted to smell Si-eun’s sweet scent directly from the source, barely holding back the desire to trace a line on his throat with his tongue, feeling a wolfish instinct appear from the depths of his unconscious mind. He refrained from going any further, but he wasn’t one to leave things half-done, so he approached Si-eun’s scent gland with his own. The boy shivered heavily under him, and Soo-ho was forced to grip the sheets underneath, afraid to fall on him and be unable to get up. Si-eun fit perfectly under the weight of his body and Soo-ho couldn’t shake the possessive feeling he got when the omega started to smell just like him after a few minutes of scenting. 

He knew he had to pull away, but he found himself continuing, stubbornly, to rub their scent glands together. The friction made Si-eun grip him even harder, with trembling hands. His scent grew stronger and sweeter, momentarily overshadowing Soo-ho's scent. This made him pull back a little to look at his face, albeit with great difficulty.

“You're shaking” He muttered, worried. He released his fingers from their strong grip on the fabrics of the nest and brought his hands to Si-eun's soft cheeks, caressing them. The smaller boy seemed to be holding himself back to the point of suffering. "Geez, pup," Soo-ho traced the corners of his eyes with his thumbs, very softly, mesmerized. “relax.”

Si-eun almost laughed in his face, ironic. How can I relax when you keep calling me that? He thought, indignant at the injustice of those feelings. How can I relax when you keep touching me like that?

There were many things he wanted to say but couldn't. Soo-ho didn't know if he enjoyed unraveling Si-eun's silence as much as he had to.

“You seem very unfamiliar with this,” Soo-ho murmured, a little dissatisfied. Si-eun was staring at him as if he couldn't stand the fact that he liked it so much. "didn't your parents… scent you as a child?"

Si-eun looked away faster than the speed of particles inside the atoms. He couldn't imagine doing that with his parents; the stiffness in his pants had gone away a while after the shower, but now he could feel it coming back, as well as a throbbing sensation between his thighs. The scent in the air was maddeningly sweet; he was releasing slick again, he couldn't even remember a time when he wasn't. Soo-ho looked so in control over him as if he wasn't breaking down all the structures that Si-eun had so diligently built up his entire life — he was breaking them down easily, and quickly, and steadily.

Sensing his mortifying silence at the mere mention of his parents, Soo-ho did something he'd been training to do for a long time: he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“I'm sure you've figured this out by now, but I'm going to need to sleep here tonight.”

With that, Si-eun looked him in the eye again, the slightest hint of interest shining in his dark irises. That proximity was making Soo-ho too spoiled; he could count the number of eyelashes on the other boy's eyelids, hear the sound of his breath coming in and out of his nostrils, watch his mood swings closely. Soo-ho shifted his gaze to the boy's arms and followed the expense of his arms until he found his hands that, like his, were also clutching the sheets. His grandmother's words were getting harder and harder to follow, and that was precisely why he had to cut his own high:

"I think I'd better sleep on the couch."

Si-eun's expression wouldn't look so different to anyone else, but Soo-ho knew it and could feel it: he withered immediately. His forehead bore the traces of an indignant, questioning wrinkle; Soo-ho just hoped he was strong enough to stick with his decision.

“Why? You can sleep here.” He asked, unable to disguise his pleading tone. Soo-ho found himself struggling to swallow his saliva, his throat constricted. "Is there something wrong with my nest?"

“There's nothing wrong with your nest.” Soo-ho replied instantly. How could he say he was extremely honored to even be able to touch his nest without sounding overly devoted? How could he say that he felt like the most privileged guy in the world to be able to see him like this and accompany him on his first heat in such an intimate way? How could he say that all that intimacy was making him confuse things, think too fond thoughts? He couldn't say any of that. He doubted that Si-eun could find a favorable solution, even if he was the smartest boy he knew. “I just think it would be better if I slept on the couch, you know… give you some space.”

Si-eun looked like he wanted to hit him. Soo-ho knew well that omegas didn't need — didn't want — space during their heats. They wanted to be hugged and scented and loved until there was no way to tell them apart from their mates. Soo-ho knew, too, that this was precisely why he couldn't overdo it. An alpha must control themself, and he was losing more and more control.

“It must be hard for you to be here.” Si-eun muttered through gritted teeth, furtively watching the way Soo-ho's hands were still gripping the sheets as if to keep him from doing something stupid, something he would regret.

Soo-ho didn't answer him. They were silent for a few seconds, a confirmation. And then, Si-eun shifted, making Soo-ho get off him. He stared at him determinedly, his voice a little hoarse with weariness.

“I don't want this hot compress.” Si-eun murmured, holding it almost shyly with his left hand. Soo-ho didn't seem upset at all.

“What do you want?” He asked, the implications already rolling across his tongue, drawn into desire, sleep, drunkenness.

Si-eun slowly removed the hot compress, setting it aside. He took Soo-ho's hands and placed them where they were before, his skin hotter than ever, and pinned them there. Not for one second had he looked away from Soo-ho's eyes, as if daring him to refuse, as if daring him to throw all his inhibitions away and do whatever his instincts told him, whatever he was fighting against.

Soo-ho felt his cheeks heat up and his body tense in inconvenient places. These eyes. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep."

Si-eun scoffed, his eyelids already drooping, as menacing as a baby cat. “You better”

Soo-ho smiled despite himself. He resisted the urge to kiss his shoulder and smell his neck once more, settling for the rhythmic massaging of his hands on his abdomen. In less than thirty minutes, Si-eun fell asleep. When Soo-ho was tempted to go too far and his grandmother's voice became harsher in his mind, he got up and left the room, feeling as if he had left his soul there. He took a very quick cold shower, changed his clothes into his work uniform, which were the only other clothes he had available, lay down on the couch, and, exhausted, fell asleep.

Soo-ho couldn't tell how much time had passed before he felt a weight next to him on the couch. He frowned, still not opening his eyes, but it didn't take him long to regain consciousness; a body smaller than his was doing its best to huddle in that small space, its sweet scent caressing Soo-ho's nostrils. But there was a hint of frustration in the air; Si-eun — because it could only be Si-eun — couldn’t find a comfortable position at all.

He opened his left eye, just the tiniest bit, and sure enough: his fluffy hair was right up his nose, and he was tossing and turning. Soo-ho held back a laugh and wrapped his right arm around Si-eun's waist, making him tense for a few seconds until he relaxed. With Soo-ho's chest firm against his back, his legs intertwined and his strong arm around his waist, Si-eun managed to stay still, loving every second of it, though he would never admit it. Both of them tried not to freak out at the prospect that they were cuddling, like an ordinary couple, as if this was just another Friday.

Eventually, though, Si-eun let out a frustrated groan and turned his head. He couldn't see Soo-ho's face, trapped in his firm grip, but he knew the other boy was awake. He could smell his very active scent and his heart beating hard against the skin of his back.

“Soo-ho.” He called. His voice sounded strange to his own ears; very soft, very pleading, maybe even submissive. He hated it a little, feeling fragile.

"Yes, pup?" His answer came not long after, and the affection in it almost made him cry. Si-eun hated it even more that he was no longer surprised by the pet name; like he already found it natural and expected, like he was getting used to it little by little. He sighed.

"Can you go back to bed with me?"

Soo-ho felt his cheeks heat up. When you say it like that, it sounds lewd.

Soo-ho didn't even think to deny it. At this point, he would be stupid to think he had any control over the situation, to think he could resist the almost innate devotion he had for Si-eun. He didn't want to wonder about the implications of his feelings, where they came from, when they were born, and how far they would develop; he just thought that falling asleep with Si-eun in his arms would be the best way to fall asleep every night. His answer was obvious:

“Sure.” Whatever you want.

That night, with Si-eun curled up in his arms just like they were on the sofa, Soo-ho had the weirdest dream.

Si-eun was in the dream, logically. And somehow, he was even more beautiful there, his image bordering on something celestial. His eyes were brighter, more expressive, his cheeks eternally flushed, and his hair obviously silky. Soo-ho could feel his heart pounding even in his sleepy state, nervous and giddy as if Cupid had poisoned his drink.

They were wandering around the city, with no apparent direction. They weren't on Soo-ho's bike, but in the dream, he could see that he was holding his helmet, with his classic red and black windbreaker. They were walking, until the scene changed to an ice cream shop. Si-eun was right in front of him, eating pistachio ice cream. It felt a lot like a date; Soo-ho was indeed very self-indulgent.

Suddenly, dream Si-eun dropped his spoon, wiped some ice cream from the corner of his — very distracting — lips, and casually said:

“Sometimes I wish the sky was a different color.”

Soo-ho heard his own voice not a second later.

“What color?”

Dream Si-eun, somewhat angelic and somewhat perverse, stared at him through long eyelashes, a knowing look on his face; as if his comment hadn't been so unassuming after all; like he knew Soo-ho would do whatever crazy thing he wanted, just because. And then he answered:

“Red.”

Sure enough, dream Soo-ho was, in the very next second, in a paint store looking for the ideal shade of red. In that story told by his head, it made a lot of sense to paint the sky with house wall paint. Unfortunately, every possible shade of red was out of stock. Desperate, Soo-ho had no choice but to pick up paint of another color. Purple.

He painted the entire sky, with miles of rollers of paint and endless brushstrokes. When he finished, he found Si-eun at the door of that same ice cream parlor, staring at the sky with that indecipherable expression as usual. But when he saw him, walking down the stairs that took him to the top of the world with his purple paintbrushes, he didn't seem upset at all.

“They didn't have red ink.” Soo-ho explained in an apologetic tone. Si-eun looked up at the sky once more, playfully assessing everything. And then, with the barest hint of a smile, he said:

“Luckily for you, I do like purple.”

Soo-ho felt the corners of his lips lift into a simple, ecstatic, genuine smile. He couldn't tell, but he was probably smiling in his sleep too.

It was a good dream, alright. 

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER FOUR — HIDDEN, PRECIOUS AND SWEET | PART TWO

…

Si-eun woke up not knowing exactly what time it was. By the strong, clear light that came through the gaps in the curtains, he thought the sun must have risen long ago. It might’ve even been midday, when the sun is at its strongest, though not so much in autumn; he was warm all over, as if the sun's heat was radiating from within him, encircling his body in a gentle embrace.

His senses woke up little by little as he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. There was a solid, comfortable weight right under him, more specifically on the right side of his face, which was resting against a living surface; the rhythmic beat of a heart vibrated almost lovingly against his skin, singing a lullaby to his ears.

There was a strong arm ensnaring him from behind, holding him by the waist, trapping him in that position that he’d find suffocating otherwise, but that he couldn’t help but bask into it now, greedily searching for any source of affection that he unconsciously craved. A scent that was already so familiar to him caressed his nostrils, almost making him sigh — and that was when Si-eun knew: that was the best way he had ever woken up in his life, surrounded by Soo-ho's warmth, by Soo-ho’s embrace. 

Taken by curiosity, Si-eun raised his head a little, searching for the other boy’s face. Soo-ho looked funny while sleeping; his — very nice — lips  were parted and the air made a little noise as it entered and left his nostrils in the rhythm of his breathing. He was involuntarily frowning and Si-eun couldn't resist the urge to smooth out the small crease between his eyebrows with the tip of his index finger; the boy stirred a little, as if reacting to Si-eun's exclusive touch, but he didn't wake up. When he grunted lightly in his sleep, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, hypnotizing the other boy who was already wide awake and certainly very close — if Si-eun had to calculate, he would say that 70% of his body it was on top of Soo-ho's, almost completely covering it. The thought made him shiver as if an icy wind had pierced his skin. There's something wrong with me.

Soo-ho moved a little to his left side, where Si-eun was. Sometime during the night, they'd come together like magnets, snapping out of their starting position — Soo-ho hugging his back, his head close to his shoulder, and his hands on his stomach. Si-eun imagined that Soo-ho had eventually moved around, and he had moved along with him, unable to separate himself from that warmth even for a second; or maybe Soo-ho had pulled his body closer, making him conveniently fall with his head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat all night. Maybe he even put his nose to the top of his head, smelling his freshly washed hair with the shampoo he'd chosen, traced through his strands and touched his skin.

Si-eun didn't consider himself a very creative person, but he could come up with a lot of scenarios in his head when Soo-ho was involved. It was almost comical, a little humiliating and very inconvenient how Soo-ho always had a huge space in his mind, with visible and sure effects. Si-eun started to become more and more aware of the heat he had been feeling radiating from within him, like melted honey straight from a beehive. He could feel that sharp pain in the pit of his stomach again, that searing, burning cramp; but there was something different, something that wasn't there before; something that had to do with the redness of Soo-ho's lips, his thick eyebrows now relaxed, the way his skin glowed against the dim light in that room.

Si-eun lowered his head, returning to where he had woken up, carefully laying himself on Soo-ho's chest as if he were a pillow. His mouth was suddenly dry, and there was a strange shiver in his lower back. He closed his eyes, inhaled the peaceful scent of pinewood, and somehow the pain got worse.

His left hand curled into a fist, pulling at the red fabric of Soo-ho's shirt. He swallowed hard, feeling an uncomfortable tingle eat at him from the inside, making the pain in his belly even more throbbing. There was a familiar stiffness in the front of his sweatpants and a slimy buildup in his underwear. He frowned, feeling a little disgusted with himself; not for the first time, he found himself cursing his biology.

Right above his head, Soo-ho wrinkled his nose, breathing hard, and shifted in order to pull Si-eun even closer to him. The movement had Si-eun’s head resting on his shoulder, his nose touching Soo-ho right where his jaw met the skin of his neck. Si-eun had the strange urge to kiss him there, taste his skin and know which flavor would grace his tongue.

That thought made him try to pull away; whatever he was feeling had to do with Soo-ho's proximity. But the alpha's arms were safe and tight around his small body, as if he feared they might take him away in his sleep; as if his only purpose in the world was to protect him from any outside force by making a shield out of his own body.

With the sound of the boy groaning so close to him, his hoarse and deep voice vibrating right underneath his closed fist, Si-eun felt his body shudder in anticipating tingles that traveled all the way to his lower body, right where it hurt the most; but the pain was almost pleasant and he was certain, there is something wrong with me. 

It didn't take long for Soo-ho to wake up, as if he felt Si-eun's discomfort, and maybe he really did; Si-eun was rolling over him as if he couldn't stand being in his own skin and his scent was altered, stronger and more insistent. A part of him wanted Soo-ho to go back to sleep, disturbed by the exhaustion of the boy who hadn't stopped to rest a minute the day before; but an even bigger part wanted him to wake up, to see him like this and understand what was going on with just one glance. He wanted him to look him in the eyes and ask permission to touch him in other ways, because Si-eun had an innate feeling that his cramps would lessen a lot if Soo-ho were to help him. There, in that precious little world where only the two of them existed, Soo-ho had the answers to all of Si-eun's problems.

The omega couldn't see from where he was lying, but the crease returned to Soo-ho's face when he woke up. He opened one eye and closed it again. Then he opened the other, and then both, blinking. His body tensed against Si-eun, who was very alert to the alpha's smallest details. His scent was gradually getting stronger, to Si-eun's delight and fear at the same time. Soo-ho wrinkled his nose again and tried to stretch, but soon became aware of his arms hugging the smaller boy protectively. Way too soon and way too late, his eyes finally adjusted to accommodate Si-eun's silhouette, lying just below his chin, as if he wanted to hide.

The alpha smiled involuntarily; he was completely surrounded by Si-eun — his scent, the weight of his body on his in an intimate and comfortable embrace, his breath in tune with his. Waking up to Si-eun was like waking up to a dream come true.

But as soon as the smile formed, it disappeared. Something was wrong. Or maybe, not so much.

Si-eun’s aroma was as sweet as ever, but it felt a little wet and bubbly, like a fizzy drink. His left hand, balled into a fist and clutched at Soo-ho's shirt, was like he was trying to hold on so he wouldn't fall off a cliff. He looked like he was in pain, but his scent didn't indicate anything particularly unpleasant or displeased. No, it was unlike anything Soo-ho had ever smelled before, unlike Si-eun's other scent variations, and the alpha would be lying if he said that particular scent didn't please him. Because, deep down, he knew there was nothing wrong; what Si-eun was feeling was perfectly natural, yet unexpected, and Soo-ho was overcome by a familiar feeling of pride, vanity, selfishness perhaps. It was then that he broke away from the boy a little and turned to face him, his brown eyes warm as coffee as he admired him in his perfect post-sleep state, from down up, beautiful with his melancholic gaze, puffy cheeks, messy hair and-

“Morning, pup.” He muttered before he did something stupid, like reaching down and capturing the omega's lips in his. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since the night before, when the two of them were lying in a position not so different from this one. He hadn't kissed Si-eun, but he had scented him and that was good enough. Soo-ho didn't expect anything more, it wasn't fair of him to do so.

But it also wasn't fair of Si-eun to be so wonderful to the eye. He was staring at him like he couldn't believe he was really there and like he hated feeling grateful at the same time. Soo-ho was starting to make his interpretations of Si-eun's expressions a fruitful hobby.

“Soo-ho.” He murmured. There was a tone of insecurity in his voice, an embarrassed plea, but very discreet, at the same time that it didn't recognize itself as such. Si-eun looked divine under Soo-ho, enclosed by his arms and with his attention only on him. Soo-ho was getting spoiled alright.

Soo-ho smiled gently to soften the act — the pain — of pulling away from him. He started to get up, swallowing hard and counting to ten. The sooner he sensed danger, the faster he could avoid it; it was like learning to drive a motorcycle, to control his petulant urges.

But then, he felt a sweaty cold — but strangely strong — hand grab him. Si-eun, still lying on the nest, was staring at him almost out of breath, even a little offended.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice rough and shaky. Soo-ho gently touched the wrist that held his and made a point of intertwining their fingers as he had been doing before, self-indulgent as ever. But this time he went further, unable to resist, and brought Si-eun's hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. That simple touch was enough to bring an electric sigh from the boy, who looked like he was about to burst into tears. Soo-ho looked him in the eye as he replied:

"To make us breakfast.”

Us. We. Si-eun breathed hard, feeling his chest heave.

“I'm not hungry.” He murmured, not sure if he was lying or not. There was one thing he desperately wanted, though, and it wasn't food. “Please stay.”

Soo-ho felt as if he had been punched right in the face, disoriented. His heart was pounding so hard that he feared it would burst out of his mouth, landing on Si-eun's torso in a sea of blood. Si-eun was talking to him, saying his wishes, asking questions, making requests; he had done those things before, but never so naturally. It was too much, he soon realized; having him there so close, looking with an almost indecipherable affection, touching him with the simple desperation of having someone to lean on when things got tough. Soo-ho was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the feeling deep in his heart that he should take care of Si-eun for the rest of his life.

He brought his hands up to the boy's cheeks, unable to resist again. He caressed them as if they were the most precious things in the world, and maybe they were. All of Si-eun was precious, made to worship and caress and hug and kiss. He cleared his throat:

“What's up with you? Hm?” Soo-ho asked, but there was no malice in his voice; just affection, pure and easy, that oozed all over his body language. He traced his hands to Si-eun's fringe and brought it back in a light touch, moving gently to stroke his hair, revealing his forehead. He barely resisted the urge to kiss it, feeling like his world orbited around Si-eun. They couldn't stop looking at each other, and Soo-ho realized that he didn't mind; he didn't mind one bit. “Are you in pain?”

Si-eun shook his head lightly, denying. The act only served to make him lean further into the alpha's touch, almost snuggling into him. It was a beautiful sight to behold, one that Soo-ho wanted to replay, over and over again.

“Well, actually,” Si-eun began, pausing mid-sentence to cough slightly. His throat was probably dry, and Soo-ho mentally reminded himself to bring a bottle of water into the room. "I'm in a little bit of pain, but it's not exactly…" He started, but his eyes strayed as he tried to find a word to describe it. Soo-ho was more and more certain that his guess was correct. “I don't know…”

Soo-ho caressed his cheekbones with his fingers, just below his nearly closed eyes. He wanted to playfully bite his cheeks.

“It's okay, pup, it's alright.” He murmured. His voice sounded so foreign to his own ears, more velvety, so much more careful, almost comforting. "Do you want some pills? Do you want me to rub your belly?”

Si-eun thought for a few seconds, but Soo-ho figured it wasn't because of the medicine. “No.”

“What do you want?” Because God knows I'd do anything you want. He didn't know when he'd started thinking that way. Maybe he always had.

Si-eun swallowed. That question shouldn't make his temperature rise and the hairs on his body stand up, but it did; maybe it was the way it was said, so softly in that husky, sleepy tone that made Si-eun's body light up like a match. What did he want? It was a great question. Seeing Soo-ho there, taking over all of his vision and flooding all of his senses, Si-eun thought that he would very much like for him to bend his body in half and do something to make that pain — that emptiness — go away.

But something stopped him from speaking the truth; he didn't know how to say it without sounding vulgar or desperate. He also had a feeling that Soo-ho was too much of a gentleman to go along with something like that. And then, after what seemed like hours of contemplation and anticipation, Si-eun looked him deep in the eyes and said:

"Can you…" He sighed. Even after everything, it was still hard to be vulnerable. "Can you scent me?"

Soo-ho smiled softly, tracing his fingers through the soft strands of hair once more.

“Of course.”

This time, Si-eun met him halfway, lifting his neck as Soo-ho got down. Sooner than he was prepared for, Soo-ho was completely overwhelmed by the sweet, bubbly scent of the other boy, who appeared flustered and nervous when showing the slightest bit of interest. Soo-ho couldn't help the satisfied smile that adorned his face when Si-eun wrapped his arms around his shoulders, resting his hands on the back of his neck, and let himself be carried away by the pleasurable sensation of being scented. It was just natural, something banal and common, but for Si-eun it was extraordinary precisely because he had never been scented before. That made Soo-ho double his attention, insisting on showering him with all the affection he had in every inch of his body; everything he had, he would give it to Si-eun if he wanted to.

Soo-ho inhaled deeply, rubbed the tip of his nose over the sensitive spot on Si-eun’s neck like an eskimo kiss and, just as he had done the night before, pressed his gland against his. It was unfair that Si-eun hadn't been loved like that, neglected to the point of being abandoned at such a vulnerable moment, alone in a house of ghosts. Soo-ho leaned even closer, as if that were even possible, with his mouth close to the back of the boy's right ear, which he wondered if was as sensitive as the other one. As if to anchor himself, and also to demonstrate something he couldn't say with words, Soo-ho's hands touched Si-eun's hips, massaging him there, drawing circles with his thumbs. And then, Soo-ho heard it.

A purr. Very discreet, very short and very shy, as if it wasn’t aware of itself. But it was there: a purr, as feline as it was wolfish, light and soft and happy and satisfied. Si-eun was purring in contentment, so relaxed to the point of forgetting himself, falling into Soo-ho's arms like a cherry blossom leaf in autumn. It was just like Soo-ho had fantasized about days ago, but even better. So much better and so wonderful that Soo-ho felt a current of energy run through his veins like electrical wires, turning on all the lights in the city. He felt an overwhelming urge to bite down on Si-eun's small, inviting scent gland and forever mark him as his to cherish, protect and worship, as he deserved. He could never do something like that, and that was precisely why he wanted it so badly.

Sadly or not, Soo-ho knew responsibility. His grandmother had raised him well — maybe way too well. He was responsible for Si-eun now, and no matter how much Si-eun tried to protest, he wasn't 100% able to answer for himself at that moment. He pulled away a little, feeling the boy let out an indignant breath right below him, but he didn't have the courage to part from him completely. He knew they would have to pull away eventually, but the prospect seemed ominous and unpleasant. Still, with his gaze farther and fixed on Si-eun's neck, he noticed something he hadn't paid attention to before.

A faint, fading red mark right around his scent gland. A thin, long mark that resembled a finger. A mark of aggression.

Over a week later, Young-bin's handprint was still there. Soo-ho felt a searing rage course through his body until his pupils dilated. But it was a different rage at its core; it was a possessive and territorial rage, the kind he wasn't proud to feel, but couldn't help but feel anyway. It was something so natural, so repressed, that he wasn't even surprised when he let go of Si-eun's hips in reflex, gripping the sheets tightly until his fingertips turned white, until his flesh ached. The omega whimpered at the lack of contact, distressed.

He wanted to erase that mark forever. The thought that another alpha had left a mark on Si-eun before him made him irate, furious, homicidal. He would go back in time if necessary, would have beaten Young-bin up a lot earlier, right in that locker room, so that he wouldn't dare come within five meters of Si-eun again. But more than anything, he wanted to leave new marks; he wanted to replace that violent evidence with red and purple stains left by his mouth, by little love bites and deep hickeys. He wanted to know if his skin tasted as sweet as he smelled. He wanted to kiss Si-eun's entire neck.

He slowly approached that offending stain, as if in a trance. His scent was probably informing the content of his thoughts, as Si-eun didn't seem nearly as serene as before, even though Soo-ho was so close. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Soo-ho was aware that he was acting ridiculous; Si-eun's skin didn't exist to leave marks on it — except for his scent gland, but even that was debatable. And it wasn't like he didn't know that Young-bin's hand had left a mark, it was impossible that it hadn't; he just didn't expect Si-eun's skin to be so sensitive to the point of red tones reverberating for days, as if they were reluctant to leave his perfect skin.

He didn't think that Si-eun was so easy to mark. It made him wonder how long it would take for a hickey to fade from his neck, for how many weeks the shape of his kiss would adorn the paleness of his skin like a work of art.

"Soo-ho," He barely registered the slightly shaky voice of the omega calling out to him. “what are you- Oh!”

Shaking hands gripped his shoulders, digging their nails into his shirt in a desperate act to keep steady. That sweet, bubbly aroma doubled in intensity, as if a switch had been flipped. Soo-ho opened his eyes and blinked a few times, realizing he had his lips pressed against Si-eun's skin, who seemed to be holding his breath, tense as a wooden board. When Soo-ho finally regained his sanity, he widened his eyes, pulling away as if he'd been burned.

He had kissed Si-eun's scarred skin, above his scent gland. A little longer and he could have crossed the line, taken one bite and ruined everything forever.

“I'm sorry.” He brought his hands to his hair, smoothing it back in his nervousness. Si-eun could only stare at him, scandalized by his body's reaction and by how much things had escalated. But he wasn't angry, nor was he disgusted; no, far from it. “I don't know what came over me, please forgive me.”

Soo-ho was acting like he had committed a heinous crime. In fact, his forbidden kiss had been nothing more than a light touch of his lips, more around than on Si-eun's scent gland itself, barely enough to shiver and certainly not strong enough to leave a mark. By the way, Si-eun thought that he should be the one embarrassed for having reacted so abruptly, with the way his breath caught in his throat and how he let out a surprised groan. But Soo-ho's lips on his neck were different from his lips on the back of his hands; it was exhilarating, it made his skin tingle pleasurably and his toes curl, if only instinctively.

Si-eun was starting to get greedy; he wanted more. He wanted more but didn't know how to ask for it, especially when Soo-ho looked so mortified and guilty and he's still apologizing-

“Soo-ho.” He called him, but it wasn't enough. Soo-ho looked ready to flog himself with an invisible whip, as if he'd broken some sort of code and was awaiting a death sentence from a judge. When the taller boy gave the slightest indication that he was going to leave his nest, Si-eun decided to be assertive and pulled him by the arm again, this time just enough for him to bend down and so he could put both hands on his face like the alpha always did to him. Si-eun thought his hands looked amazing on Soo-ho's high cheekbones, and he wanted to erase that terrified look with the caress of his fingers. He was talking before he even registered. “Soo-ho, it's fine.”

The other boy finally seemed to calm down, even though he was still trembling and nervous under the touch of Si-eun's hands. “Is it?” A little confused, too.

Si-eun sighed. “Yes, it’s fine.”

He began to move his fingers, feeling the alpha's skin against his in an awkward, tentative touch. Si-eun wasn't used to receiving affection, much less giving; but Soo-ho seemed to have unlocked a long-dormant part of himself — one that possessed desires, that needed to be cherished and cared for. It was a strange feeling, but surprisingly not a bad one, and Si-eun found himself wondering how he could tell Soo-ho that that kiss — light and soft and barely-there but still a kiss — had ignited the sensations he had been feeling since he woke up, something instinctive and vital and devouring that boiled down to the heat in the lower part of his body, where his blood was pulsing stronger and clamored for something he knew only Soo-ho could give to him. How to tell him that he had nothing to be ashamed of, because Si-eun had liked it, liked it too much, and he would willingly give his neck so Soo-ho could trace several paths with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his hands. Because, in the end, Si-eun was a bit greedy, and so he started:

"I-" Another painful sigh. “I lik-”

Suddenly, a growl. Loud and profound, which had come out of one of their stomachs.

Si-eun blinked, feeling all his courage wither and the mood be completely destroyed. Soo-ho was starving, and Si-eun, in his selfishness, hadn't even considered the other boy's discomfort. He dropped his hands from the alpha's cheekbones, stifling a pained, indignant howl; he didn't want to leave that nest. But, to his dismay, he was going to have to let go of Soo-ho eventually, so he slowly lowered his arms until they came together over his chest in an act of resignation. Soo-ho was silent and still like a statue above him, and Si-eun hated it.

“You’re hungry.” Si-eun muttered, pointing out the obvious. Soo-ho didn't answer, recovering from the fuss of minutes ago. Si-eun would like to know how the logic of his thoughts operated. “I didn't notice. I'm sorry.”

Soo-ho let out a long breath, looking tired, but his scent was calmer and before he realized it, he was releasing pheromones to put the omega more at ease; after all, he was frowning and looking at him with an annoyed pout. Soo-ho tried not to let pride get to his head when he saw him react to his scent, inhaling it deeply.

“No worries.” He replied, putting his hands back on Si-eun's hips and massaging them gently. “Don't apologize again, okay?” I don't like it, he wanted to say, but refrained. When the omega didn't answer him, just kept staring at him with that indecipherable look accompanied by his characteristic pout, Soo-ho lightly pinched the skin on his hip, making Si-eun jump a little. The alpha wondered if it was pain or pleasure, if he was ticklish, if there was any part of his body he didn't like to be touched. He had to control his mean streak, and he had to control his thoughts as well. It was then that he got up, quickly and swiftly to avoid any change of heart, and looked up the time on his cell phone, forgotten on the desk counter.

“It's noon.” He said, a little surprised. He hadn't slept so much in ages, but the exhaustion made sense, both on his part and on Si-eun's. He turned to face the nest; Si-eun was sitting up now, stroking the back of his neck, but he didn't look as worn out as he had the day before. "I think we're having lunch for breakfast." Soo-ho went to the foot of the bed and held out his hand. “Do you like tteokbokki?”

Si-eun stared at it for long seconds until he caught it. “Hm.”

Soo-ho smiled, wide and happy, and the sight almost made Si-eun lose his balance. Even tripping over his own feet and falling didn't seem so bad, because he had the strange certainty that Soo-ho would catch him. That sense of blind trust seemed rather dangerous in Si-eun's over-thinking mind, but he couldn't care less. Soo-ho's hand was big and warm on his, and it brought him an extraordinary comfort that he didn't even dream of gaining in this lifetime.

And so, even though he didn't feel like it, Si-eun left his room feeling light.

Soo-ho liked to watch Si-eun.

It took longer than it should have for him to realize that the almost automatic shift of his gaze to the boy's figure was not merely an act of concern. It took even longer for him to admit to himself that he watched him for the simple pleasure of watching, because Si-eun was a lovely sight; he liked to watch him in any way, whether he was eating, sleeping, studying intently at his desk, or simply existing, standing still, looking at no one place in particular. Soo-ho tried not to think too hard about whether this was creepy or not, but he thought he was just making sure the boy's magnificent complexion remained unharmed.

Still, the more he watched, the more details he noticed. And the more details he noticed, the more he could worry.

If he didn't have such a sharp look, maybe he wouldn't notice the way Si-eun was fidgeting in agony, much like the day before. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the way he was rubbing his own scent gland and pulling the hem of his shirt down so that it hid the front of his sweatpants. While he was cooking, Soo-ho found himself thinking that if Si-eun was wearing one of his shirts, he wouldn't need to make that effort. His cheeks took on an insistent shade of red. Stupid alpha brain.

By the time Soo-ho finished preparing their meals and got back to the table with them, Si-eun seemed a little bit disoriented, his scent stronger than ever and making Soo-ho wonder if he shouldn’t be doing something more specific to help. But if Si-eun was feeling what Soo-ho thought he was feeling, then he couldn’t do much; at least, not in any way that would give him any peace of mind. 

“Si-eun-ah." He called out, not waving a hand in front of him just because both were occupied. He placed a generous portion in front of the boy, but he didn't look hungry. Upon hearing his name, Si-eun finally looked at him since they left the room; his eyes were unfocused and watery. Soo-ho gulped, feeling his own brow furrow. Even though there wasn't much he could do, he couldn't ignore the omega in that state; maybe he could just come up with an answer to whatever problem he had. "Tell me what's wrong, please."

Si-eun opened his mouth and closed it again. His gaze traveled around the room until it landed on Soo-ho's face again. He looked feverish and a little out of his mind, but he still managed to answer:

“N-nothing wrong.”

With that, he took the chopsticks and started to eat. Soo-ho sighed and did the same.

Si-eun believed in learning by repetition; if, maybe, he kept repeating to himself and Soo-ho that there was nothing wrong, then it would become true. He knew, deep down, that this wasn't how things worked, but his whole world had been thrown out of orbit in little more than twenty-four hours and he was still getting used to that body, to the exorbitant sensations it produced.

There was the bizarre notion, in the back of his mind, that he was able to create life inside of him now, which would be fascinating if it wasn’t so off-putting. He could remember clearly from elementary school when they first studied the sub-genres; all of them barely holding on to their first puberty and already having to prepare for their second. He could remember the snickering ten-year-olds when the teacher mentioned male omegas and the way their bodies worked; one of them thought it was brilliant to say out loud that they were freaks of nature, without even considering the possibility that he was one of them, or that there were possible male omegas in the room — because after all, who would want to be a male omega? Omegas were marginalized and abused and belittled and, as that boy had said so many years ago, they were freaks of nature.

Maybe they were right; Si-eun felt quite like a freak, with the way he wouldn’t stop releasing slick and his body seemed to be crying out for something to fill him up. Maybe their words got to his head in such a way that they’d created trauma. Maybe because of them he couldn't remember the smallest details of his own biology, didn't know how his body worked, didn't understand what he was feeling, didn't know what was best for him, nor how to survive such a delicate period —  hadn't even bothered to do research. It really was a stroke of luck that he was there with Soo-ho, of all possible and non-possible alphas.

Soo-ho, who wouldn't touch him without permission. Soo-ho, who respected his nest as a sacred space. Soo-ho, who cooked for him. Soo-ho, who had bought hundreds of products just thinking about his comfort. Soo-ho, whose hands only brought him pleasure and joy. Soo-ho, Soo-ho, Soo-ho.

Si-eun wondered, for the first time, what he had done to deserve such mercy; because it was merciful, in a way. He was tempted to ask Soo-ho himself, sitting across from him and completely unaware of his thoughts, what motivated him to stay there. Because with him, the unbearable became bearable, and he didn't feel like ripping his guts out; he didn't feel like screaming from the rooftops in rage, angry for ending up like this.

Because at the end of the day, he knew he was going to be an omega — given his family background, that had always been the most likely option. But Soo-ho made him feel content and satisfied; he made him feel light when his body was heavy, and he replaced the pain with pleasurable sensations. Soo-ho made him believe, under the warmth of his gentle gaze, that he was a beautiful work of art rather than a hellish freak. Si-eun was even ashamed to admit it, but Soo-ho made him feel like being an omega wasn't so bad after all.

He dropped the chopsticks when he realized there was no more food on his plate. Once again, he devoured everything Soo-ho had given him in a few minutes — and that was because he swore he wasn't hungry. This time, however, he didn't even pay attention to the taste, lost in obsessive thoughts. When he looked forward, he found Soo-ho's eyes on him, watchful, fixed, with an excessive mixture of feelings. Soo-ho always seemed to look at him like that, lost in a sea of meaning.

To his surprise, he too had already finished his food. When the alpha noticed the curiosity in his eyes, he broke the silence:

“You started to eat very quickly, so I wanted to keep up with you.” He replied, calm and carefree as if Si-eun wasn't acting completely insane in front of him. Those degrading thoughts came back with a vengeance, and Si-eun managed not to cringe at his own behavior. He wasn't used to the feeling of embarrassment, and he didn't like it one bit. “I'm not one of those who stays behind in a race.”

Si-eun thought about saying something but, again, found himself at a loss for words. What could he even say? He feared that a simple “thank you” wouldn't be enough to contemplate everything Soo-ho had done for him so far. He thought about apologizing, but Soo-ho had explicitly told him that he shouldn't do that anymore. And then, in the midst of that silence that settled in, a weird mixture of comfortable and uncomfortable, Si-eun focused his attention on Soo-ho and noticed that he seemed to be considering something in his head.

Si-eun always found the alpha's gaze on him, but this time, his eyes were fixed on the horizon, a little wide, without a specific direction. And then, he cleared his throat, smiled slightly at Si-eun, got up and walked over to him, crouching down to be at shoulder level — which was strangely endearing to Si-eun, who was feeling his rationality slip away slowly.

“I was thinking that maybe we could watch a movie.” He began, looking up slightly to stare at him from that tiny, stupidly tempting distance. Si-eun tried his best not to shift his eyes downwards, afraid they would stare at Soo-ho's lips for too long, as they had done before. — Or a TV show, an anime, a youtube channel, whatever you want.” He cleared his throat again, breaking eye contact for a few seconds, looking embarrassed. Si-eun felt privileged to see such a confident boy lose his composure over such trivial things. “Actually, I wanted to do other things with you, maybe go for a walk, but you're already in an advanced state of your heat and going out with you on the street would be dangerous.”

The alpha was being sensible, but Si-eun wasn't paying attention. His brain had been short-circuited as soon as Soo-ho had said, casually and with a certain innocence, that he wanted to do other things with him, and Si-eun was suddenly very aware of his tingling abdominal cramps that seemed to be born from a place deep inside him, that almost voracious urge to jump on top of Soo-ho and straddle his lap and kiss his lips and-

“Si-eun?” Soo-ho's voice interrupted his daydreams. It was almost cruel, since he was at the center of them. “I asked you a question.”

Si-eun coughed uncomfortably, feeling his throat dry and a little tight. This time, he really should ask for water.

“I didn't hear it, I-” Another cough, thin and dry. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

“Of course.” But Soo-ho didn't move too far. He merely got up and grabbed a full glass that was on the corner of the table, next to Si-eun, and dragged it closer. Si-eun frowned a little. Was this here the whole time?

He didn't dwell on possibilities. He picked up that glass and gulped it down steadily and quickly, as if he'd been thirsty for ages, as if he'd been making deliveries all night without catching a break; that act itself felt a little nostalgic now that the roles were reversed.

It was indeed very interesting, not to say bizarre, that connection they seemed to share. Si-eun wondered if Soo-ho had some kind of access to his thoughts, and he found himself invested in the prospect that this had a grain of truth. So he probably knows what I've been wondering about. That almost relieved him. Would that make things easier? At least then I won't have to say anything. If I have to say how I feel, I'll end up combusting and dying.

"I asked if you'd like to go to the living room."

Si-eun let out a satisfied gasp when he finally finished that long gulp of water. Soo-ho seemed a little amused by the sight in front of him, but Si-eun didn't allow himself to be flattered by his attention. When he looked back at the alpha, he finally agreed, nodding. Soo-ho smiled, that slightly goofy smile that made the dimples at the corner of his lips appear and that lifted Si-eun's spirits way too strongly.

"Okay, let's go then." He stood up and held out his hand for Si-eun to take. When the omega got to his feet, anchored by the strength of his arms, he allowed himself to ask, "How did you like the food?"

Si-eun looked at him with a surprised gaze, his lovely eyes a little wide. When they returned to normal a mere second later, they took on a guilty, maybe even apologetic look and kept going down until they hit the ground. Soo-ho wanted to soothe his every discomfort, but there would always be parts of Si-eun which he wouldn’t be able to access. 

“I barely paid attention to the taste this time.” He murmured, unable to return Soo-ho's stare. “But I know I liked it.” I like everything you do.

Soo-ho was silent for a few seconds, which for Si-eun felt like long and excruciating minutes. Until he assented through a reverberating noise in his chest, looking satisfied enough with the answer.

“I made another portion for you, you can tell me later.”

Si-eun almost couldn't believe it. Sometimes he felt like pinching himself, touching Soo-ho's skin until it bled, just to see if he was really real. Nobody had ever cared so much about him before.

“But the ramen you made yesterday was delicious.” He found himself saying without even realizing it. Soo-ho's serene face was disconcerted for a few seconds, not expecting that sudden confession. Si-eun wished that to be the only thing he had to confess.

And then, Soo-ho smiled again. His scent heightened in such a way that it seemed to bring a cool, natural breeze into the entire apartment, like a summer afternoon when the sun is nourishing and comforting, and the wind blows making a few leaves dance in pirouettes through the air. Si-eun felt his heart start to race as if he was preparing for a marathon.

“Yeah, I know.” He replied, smug. Si-eun didn't even have time to feel irritated, for the taller boy took his hand, which was still securely wrapped in his, and brought it to his lips again, kissing it with a tenderness completely beyond his understanding. And his heart, his poor heart, nearly burst out of his chest; the marathon had begun. “C’mon.”

Soo-ho pulled him into the living room and Si-eun found himself wishing the path over there was longer. The back of his right hand was throbbing, tingling, trembling and sweating under the heat of Soo-ho's larger hand; he was sure his lips would be tattooed on his skin for the rest of his life at the way his body reacted, hypersensitive and maybe a little desperate. But that feeling was a double-edged sword and could even serve as a perfect example for Si-eun's relationship with his own emotions. Because having Soo-ho's hands on his skin was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced, but every time they had to part, the feeling was one of inexplicable loss, a ghostly and insistent desire that devoured Si-eun inside like maggots on a corpse.

He tried to hide his discontent when Soo-ho let go of his hand to take the controller, and he tried to tame the increasingly mad wolf inside him when Soo-ho returned to the couch and didn't come closer again, staying two feet away from him, distant as if he didn't dare cross that damn invisible line. Ah, yes, Si-eun was about to go completely crazy and, in a way, he thought it was even expected that this would happen, given the circumstances of that heat — which was something naturally maddening.

"So, hm..." Soo-ho cleared his throat, and Si-eun registered that he was making that gesture very often. Is he nervous? Si-eun glanced at him furtively, noticing that his cheeks were as red as apples. Maybe he wasn't the only one having trouble controlling his uncomfortable feelings in the midst of that awkwardness. “What do you usually watch?”

Si-eun blinked in his direction, impassive. Soo-ho was looking at him expectantly, as he usually did, for better or for worse.

“I usually don't watch anything.”

Soo-ho rolled his eyes, snorting. Si-eun wondered if he realized he was shaking his head with that affectionate expression on his face. Si-eun wondered, too, if his mind wasn't playing tricks on his.

“Why am I not surprised?” Soo-ho lifted the remote towards the TV, taking the liberty of turning it on. “Actually, I am surprised you even have a Netflix account.”

Si-eun didn't express any emotion at his slightly teasing tone, although he thought he should. Soo-ho's teasing always had a different nature, a different effect that wasn't harmful at all.

“My dad likes to watch it when he's home.”

Soo-ho turned to look at him right away. Si-eun was looking at the television, but he could see his nervous features even without looking at them directly. Soo-ho, however, quickly concealed it, turning to the television without paying attention to his comment. Si-eun thought he was going to clear his throat again, but he spent a few minutes in silence looking for something to watch. When he found something that caught his interest, he fidgeted, looking excited, maybe even a little anxious:

“Since I'm going to choose, you have no right to complain.” He said, convinced like he wasn't going to do all of Si-eun's wishes if he just looked at him in a certain way, or even if he didn't look at him at all. In his mind, several questions: what if he doesn't like it? What if he thinks my taste in dramas is horrible? What if he judges me?

To avoid further unnecessary suffering, he put it on before Si-eun could retaliate. Not that he seemed particularly interested enough to do that.

And indeed, Si-eun wasn't that invested to begin with. But the drama that Soo-ho had put on was fun — there was something very comforting about seeing a seemingly silly and harmless story about a penniless girl who ended up winning over her rich and handsome boss by accident. It made him feel like the world was simple and like love wasn't so shallow. He found himself looking at Soo-ho involuntarily, laughing at something happening on the TV; his face really looks amazing from every angle. And then, before he could even think about it, he said:

“Didn’t take you for a romcom guy.”

Soo-ho turned to him, startled. And then, his eyes widened, looking playfully offended:

"You didn't take me for a romcom guy? I must be doing something wrong.” He chuckled a little and grinned. “I live with my grandmother, what did you expect?”

Si-eun found himself struggling to hide a smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that need, didn't know if he'd even felt it before. To his utter horror, he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled; purely, genuinely, because he had a reason to. He wanted to prolong that feeling:

“Are you the type to cry watching Titanic, too?”

Soo-ho had a funny look on his face. He was gaping, but his eyes were kind, and if Si-eun allowed himself to be self-indulgent, he could even tell that he looked delighted. Maybe he was talking too much; indeed, Soo-ho managed to get the most diverse reactions out of Si-eun, and he found himself much more talkative in his presence, even though he didn't think he was able to leave the quiet spectrum.

“What kind of question is that?” Soo-ho asked in disbelief. Si-eun was a little hesitant for a moment; had he offended him? Had he hurt some alpha code or some other bullshit he didn't know about? And then, his answer came, as surprising as the other: “Of course I cried! What kind of heartless person wouldn't cry watching Leonardo DiCaprio sink to his cold death on the Atlantic Ocean?”

Si-eun looked away quickly. Oh no. Oh no. He was smiling. He could feel the corners of his lips rising against his will, unable to be contained. His heart was fluttering, giddy and excited, fluttering in his chest. He felt weird, weird all over. He didn't hate it as much as he probably should have, and he wondered if that was a cause for concern.

"Ya, Yeon Si-eun," Soo-ho called out to him, quiet but still insistent. His voice had a different tone, beyond all tenderness and everything that was capable of being described. Si-eun gave up looking for meaning in things that obviously weren't rational. “are you mocking me?”

Si-eun immediately stopped smiling. When he turned around, he had the same unreadable expression as ever. He never denied being a proud boy.

“No.” He replied, curt and blunt. Soo-ho wasn't shaken; he was beaming at him again. Si-eun felt the corners of his face twitch. Fucking hell.

“Cute.” Soo-ho muttered. And, just like that, the two went back to watching.

To Si-eun's dismay, that distance continued for a long time. The drama was twelve episodes long and there wasn't much they could do while Si-eun was in the middle of a heat — though his definitely-presented mind could conjure up some scenarios. As time passed and the main couple's relationship developed, Si-eun could feel those feelings increasing to the point that, at some point during the fourth episode, when Soo-ho went to the kitchen to get some snacks he had bought, Si-eun firmly believed that he would drown in despair.

He missed Soo-ho's touch on him, and figured the alpha had some idea what was going on, as he was far more repressed than usual, keeping a respectable distance and avoiding any measly touch. Si-eun touched his fingers to the skin of his neck above his gland, remembering that simple, shy and almost accidental kiss. He couldn't help it, he wanted it again, harder, with more intention, perhaps with enough enthusiasm to leave a mark, not too exaggerated to be indecent, but visible enough so that no one would think twice about messing with an omega who clearly had the affections of an alpha. Because Si-eun was rather proud, perhaps a little selfish and certainly very greedy when it came to Soo-ho, as it was never clearer that he wanted his affection.

Si-eun grabbed the fabric of the sofa with his fingertips in a feeble attempt to stay grounded in reality. His body was weak and he was shaking every now and then. Soo-ho was right next to him, and yet they weren't touching. Something in Si-eun's mind — in his existence — had changed; that was almost offensive, unthinkable, painful, truly painful. He could feel his warmth, smell him, hear his laughter and occasional comments about the plot — “Shin Ha-ri, you idiot!” — he could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he drank his soda and the way the muscle in his arm twitched when he put it behind his neck. It was too much; Si-eun was already completely deranged, clinically insane.

And then, when none of those little samples from Soo-ho were enough to bear, Si-eun finally broke that emotional silence:

"Soo-ho," He began, feeling his heart pound in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Soo-ho had turned to face him. The alpha's scent had been denoting worry for some time, alert. "I think there's something wrong with me."

Soo-ho frowned a little, but didn't seem all that surprised by his confession. Still, he paused the show — Si-eun couldn't believe he had survived until the sixth episode — and finally, finally, approached him again. Si-eun was afraid he was going to start crying right then and there, and he hated himself for being so dramatic.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked. He was close enough that Si-eun could see the glint in his brown eyes, which got lighter (ironically, quite like chocolate) under the sunlight. “What are you feeling? Can you describe it?”

The way Soo-ho always asked if he could do things should piss Si-eun off, but it didn't. It made him feel cared for and pampered and protected and all sorts of good things. And that should have been annoying in itself, but it wasn't, either.

"I feel…" That was always the hardest part. Every time he started to say something personal, he would stall and delay the inevitable. But deep down, Si-eun wondered if he should say what really bothered him, because it was a little embarrassing. Under Soo-ho's warm gaze though, he couldn't lie. “I feel empty.”

Soo-ho's features slumped. Si-eun could see the way his breath hitched and his mouth opened slightly in surprise. But Si-eun couldn't contain himself anymore; after all, that was the truth.

“My body feels hot all the time, like a furnace, and it won't stop releasing slick. It comes in small amounts, but it's still uncomfortable and I feel sticky, and…” He closed his eyes. He couldn't believe he was saying that, all that in front of Soo-ho. But also, Soo-ho had seen him in much more vulnerable states. He closed his eyes, because that was how much he trusted Soo-ho, somehow. “And I feel like there's something missing, and that missing thing is going to ease all my pain. Don't ask me how I know this, it may not even be true, but it's how I feel.”

When he opened his eyes, Soo-ho wasn't there.

Si-eun blinked a few times, confused. He turned his head from side to side, but didn't see him. Luckily, he didn't have time to become desperate again — once had been traumatic enough — as mere seconds later Soo-ho was back; and back for real, with tons of things under his arm.

“I knew your body was warm, but now it's even warmer.” He raised Si-eun's right arm, only lowering it when he had placed a thermometer in contact with his skin. "Stand still until it beeps."

He placed a thin blanket next to Si-eun on the sofa while he fiddled with several pills. “This thermometer is just a formality, I know you have a fever.” He took a pill from one of the packets and handed it to him, along with a glass of water. “Take this one.”

Si-eun didn't think he had the strength to deny him. He did as he was told, even though the places on his body that Soo-ho had touched so objectively were still throbbing. When the thermometer beeped, indicating his feverish state, Soo-ho asked him to lie down and, ever so gently, guided his body into the most comfortable position, his hands heavy on the back of his neck and over his chest, almost to his abdomen. Si-eun felt a strange urge to beg, but he remained silent, feeling the effects of Soo-ho's touch on his body like the side effects of a drug.

"You should have told me you were cold." He murmured as he covered him with the thin sheet. “I could see you shivering from time to time.”

Those shivers weren't from the cold. Si-eun gulped, staring intently at the alpha, even though Soo-ho’s gaze was fixed on his torso, more or less as far as the sheet ended. He was pretty sure he was pouting now, dissatisfied.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Si-eun asked. If you noticed, you could have done something. It wasn't fair to expect that from Soo-ho, but Si-eun couldn't find anything fair in that whole entire situation. The way he had presented himself was unfair, the sacrifices Soo-ho had to make to be with him were unfair, and those feelings, whatever they were, were unfair too.

Soo-ho looked him in the eyes again, looking guilty. And then, he diverted his attention to somewhere that made his head duck down.

“I should have.” He mumbled. “I don't know why I didn't. Sorry.”

Si-eun sighed, feeling something break between them, something he didn't want to break. Unfortunately, that invisible barrier was still very much intact, and he still felt awkward. Soo-ho's touch had soothed some pains, but there was something paradoxical going on in his body, as having the alpha so close seemed to inflame him from the inside. It was as if he was the cause of his illness and the remedy for it at the same time. It was then that Si-eun asked him:

“Do you have any pills that can help me with this problem?”

Soo-ho shook his head, also sighing.

“Not for this particular problem, no.” His scent changed slightly, taking on a more humid aspect, but it was such a subtle change that Si-eun wondered if he had imagined it.

“So… You know what I'm feeling?”

Soo-ho nodded, almost shyly. Si-eun didn't know why, and he didn't know what; but he knew that whatever it was, it made the alpha's scent take on a smoldering, however faint, quality.

Soo-ho knew, but at that moment he wished he didn't. He had read it in a magazine one day when he was about fifteen. He read several comments of many omegas on the internet before asking his grandmother, who confirmed it: an omega only felt those specific symptoms when they were around a potential mate. Which meant that for Si-eun, whether he was aware of it or not, Soo-ho was a possible mate.

It made him feel very warm, as if the sun was rising from within him. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, determined to hide it.

“I don't know how to explain it to you, and I don’t think I should. But it is rather common during omega heats.” When they’re close to a mate. When they’re getting ready for mating. Dear God. “There's no specific remedy, so we can only deal with the symptoms as separate parts of a whole. Do you have cramps?”

But he didn't wait for Si-eun to answer. He seemed desperate to change the subject, and it seemed an understated fact at that point that Si-eun would always be accompanied by cramps. Soo-ho put that warm compress back on his abdomen and Si-eun almost laughed in irony.

"You know…" He murmured, feeling that not-so-comforting warmth in his aching belly. “You act like a mom.” Not that he had any experiences like that with his own, but still. 

Soo-ho's face was incredulous as he stared at him.

“I live with my grandmother, what did you expect?”

Si-eun would blame what happened next on the familiarity of the scene, Soo-ho's proximity and his pounding heart. He could clearly see when Soo-ho's gaze became a vision of pure wonder, the way his lips fell open as his own rose, making his cheeks plump, his lids droop a little. He could hear Soo-ho gasp in bewilderment, his eyes glazed over his face as if he were Mona Lisa at the Louvre. There was so much adoration in them, it made him feel sick.

"A-Are you..." So-ho stammered, seemingly forgetting how to speak. “Are you smiling?”

This time, Si-eun didn't stop, nor did he hide it, for he realized he couldn't. His lips pulled up even more so that he ended up showing his teeth. He looked away from Soo-ho, feeling his cheeks burn, but he was still smiling; so much so that his cheeks started to hurt after a while, and Soo-ho looked like he was having some kind of stroke in front of him, because it didn’t take long before he started laughing strangely, opening and closing his mouth as if he was disbelieved, indignant, frustrated and enamored all at the same time.

“You’re unbelievable.” He murmured, fascinated. Si-eun was sure that his face had taken on an yet unseen shade of red, but he was willing not to be the only one. Luckily, Soo-ho's face wasn't too different either.

“Soo-ho-ya.” Si-eun called him. He could imagine, again, doggy ears bobbing on his head. Soo-ho could be adorable too, that much was true. "You should know by now that I prefer your hands."

Soo-ho didn't have time to think, because soon Si-eun was guiding his hands where he wanted them, as he had been doing. The hot compress was again set aside, and Soo-ho wasn't too upset when he realized that he had probably bought something unnecessary. No, because his hands were tracing those rhythmic patterns that gave him so much satisfaction; satisfaction in keeping in touch with that skin, satisfaction in making Si-eun relax and sigh under his touch. It made him rather proud, if he was honest, and even though he wanted to provide the best for Si-eun, he was secretly happy that he preferred his hands more than any other material.

However, Si-eun didn't seem so relaxed this time. His scent had undertones of nervousness and anticipation that hadn't been there minutes before, yet it never lost that wet, simmering quality. The drama had been forgotten, the remote control was on the floor and Soo-ho's two hands were on Si-eun's belly, until one of them was removed, taken by the enlace of two smaller hands that brought it to the omega’s face.

His open palm immediately covered his left cheek, caressing it. His thumb accidentally touched Si-eun's parched lips, and Soo-ho felt his heart stop.

Si-eun was looking at him with so much want. He felt his mouth go dry and his knees shake. And soon, Si-eun was speaking.

“Soo-ho.” He whispered his name like a plea, a secret neither of them could tell. But his eyes were aching as he looked at him, as if begging him to take away his pain, and for all that was sacred and holy, Soo-ho wanted to. So much so that he didn't react when Si-eun's hands lowered, bringing his palm to his neck, close to his scent gland; didn't react when the boy placed his thumb purposely on the sensitive skin, trembling under the slightest touch; didn't react when Si-eun released a panting breath, his lips parted in an inaudible request, his scent sweet like thick and sticky honey. But when the boy went further and applied a little pressure on his gland with Soo-ho's hand, the alpha immediately backed away, leaving his position, feeling his hands tingling violently.

“Why did you back away?” Si-eun got up in an instant, almost as if he was possessed. Soo-ho ignored him for a few seconds, sighing deeply, running a hand through his hair, embarrassed, dissatisfied. He sat down on the couch again, but he didn't look at Si-eun. This seemed to have angered the omega beyond comprehension; his scent spiked, like burnt chocolate. “Answer me.”

For the first time since they had arrived there, Soo-ho glared at Si-eun. His jaw was set, his fists clenched, a few veins slinking through his biceps. It made Si-eun feel a certain way, and he was too embarrassed to admit to himself that it was a little arousing. It seemed that Soo-ho had other ways of making his hair stand on end, his toes curl in reflex, his slick flow increase considerably. He almost didn't hear him when he said:

"Let's just say your words got to my head." He confessed, breathing heavily. He ran a hand through his hair, a frown adorning his handsome features. “I keep thinking I'm just like them after all.”

Si-eun felt all the air leave his lungs and something else replace them. He wondered if guilt could take a physical form. Soo-ho looked so small now, belittled by something Si-eun had said, and it was almost ironic: Si-eun had never been on the other side of that dynamic, being the cause for someone's paranoia, fear and embarrassment, like a bully.

He swallowed back his urge to scream, clenching and unclenching his hands in an attempt to calm himself.

“You're not like them.” He said. Firm, convinced, with all the certainty in the world. Soo-ho, who was tense with his gaze turned anywhere but Si-eun, shuddered in his seat. “You're not like them at all.”

Si-eun knew that was true, there was no denying it. Because if Soo-ho wanted to hurt him, he would’ve already done so. Soo-ho was much stronger than him, he could easily break his neck and call it a day; he could easily force himself into him and Si-eun wouldn't be able to do much but scream and cry. He could have done it while he was sleeping, or while they were in the shower. Soo-ho had many opportunities to do all of these things and he didn't. But that wasn't what set him apart from the others — it was the fact that he didn't want to hurt him at all, and Si-eun could feel it; he could feel it in his fingertips, in the depths of his eyes, in the beat of his heart. He could feel it on his own skin, as if it had been written into his DNA.

“When you touched my neck, I liked it.” He admitted, his breathing also heavy and his face burning. He forced himself not to look away from Soo-ho, who was looking at him furtively as if he was afraid to see him. “And when you… When you kissed my neck, I liked it too.” Si-eun grabbed the sheet, scratching at the texture of the couch as he felt Soo-ho's scent respond to his statement, hot and humid like pine wood in summer. "Nothing hurts when you're around."

That last sentence should have counted as a lie, or a flattery, but it didn't. Soo-ho soothed his pains, leaving them expressionless, and even when he didn't, the pain was pleasant and intriguing, arousing; a pain that announced that something wonderful was about to come, a pain that prepared him for immense joy, a pain that made his mouth water and his mind claim for Soo-ho to touch him, his skin burning. He hoped he would understand; while that touch was similar to what Young-bin had done to him, Soo-ho could only ever bring him delight. 

"Fuck, Si-eun-ah," Soo-ho muttered, dumbfounded. His eyes were so emotional that Si-eun thought he was going to start crying. But he quickly averted his gaze, running his hand through his hair again, a faraway look on his brown orbs. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Si-eun looked at him with interest. His face was red, his eyes more expressive than he'd ever seen, but he wasn't able to hold his gaze in Si-eun's direction, shy like never before. They were silent for long minutes, until Soo-ho swallowed and said, in a low voice:

“Still, I don't think we should do that again.”

Si-eun's mouth opened and closed, but he didn't have anything to say. His heart, which was already beating very fast, became a nuisance in the face of that rejection. Soo-ho looked embarrassed, sheepish, uncomfortable. And Si-eun had done that to him, with his lack of communication skills and weird behavior.

He swallowed all his complaints, for he felt like he had no right to complain. He even felt that he no longer had any rights whatsoever.

Soo-ho cleared his throat again, to his utter horror. Si-eun hadn't known him for a long time, but he had enough time to realize that he only did that when he was nervous to the point of needing to change the subject. And soon enough:

“I just realized that I left the dirty dishes on the table.” He started to get up, motioning dumbly towards the dining room. Si-eun frowned, hoping his scent didn't make his thoughts too obvious. Seriously, Soo-ho? "I'm gonna wash the dishes and start making something for dinner. You can continue to watch-”

But Si-eun had already got up. He was clutching the sheet like it was a second part of his body, trying to keep himself from shivering. His face was probably the graphic definition of discontent.

“I'm going back to the nest.” He said, clear and without any possibility of retaliation. Soo-ho wasn't stupid enough to question him, so he just nodded, looking defeated. “It's warmer there.”

He didn't know why he felt the need to add that last part. Maybe he wanted to explain himself for once, to make things clear between them. But Si-eun was never very good with words and he feared that he would only screw things up even more. So when Soo-ho didn't say anything, he withdrew, dragging that sheet as if it were his will to live, entering the room and closing the door.

He could feel Soo-ho's frustration from there, wavering and regretful.

When Soo-ho knocked on Si-eun's door, it was night already.

Si-eun tried to sleep for a while, but he found it annoyingly difficult to fall asleep when Soo-ho wasn't by his side, anchoring him with his body and stroking his belly. He wondered if he was going to be able to go back to sleep the way he used to before Soo-ho came into his life, and that thought made him wish that tomorrow didn't exist.

As if the fact that Soo-ho wasn't by his side wasn't enough, Soo-ho was in the kitchen doing God knows what. Si-eun lost count of how many ingredients he could smell, how many utensils sounds he heard, how many noises of something cooking and frying and roasting. Soo-ho seemed to be taking all his stress out in the kitchen. Si-eun couldn't even smell his own scent anymore, and Soo-ho's scent was also completely obliterated by the smell of vegetables and spices — at least he hadn't bought any paprika.

When the measly possibility of falling asleep finally left him, Si-eun decided to study a little. He turned the low light and managed to turn on the computer without having his eyes burned, dimming the luminosity. Surprisingly, he was better than the day before, and being able to study was almost therapeutic, even if he didn't have his usual mental agility and dexterity. If he closed his eyes, he could even imagine that it was something common between them: Soo-ho cooking, Si-eun studying, until night would come and they would meet again, eating together and lying in the same bed, falling asleep wrapped around each other. Yes, Si-eun could easily get used to that.

But then, the noises in the kitchen stopped. He could only hear the sound of two plates being placed on the table. And then Soo-ho was knocking on his door:

"Si-eun, come on out, please" He asked. "I made dinner."

You made dinner for the entire week, Si-eun wanted to answer. Or maybe he had made a very elaborate recipe, with a thousand ingredients and a complex sequence of steps. Anyway, Si-eun didn't ask what it was, and Soo-ho didn't bother to tell him either, because both of them needed to eat, whatever it was, as long as it was real food. Si-eun could even say that his life quality had improved on the last day, even though he was under constant physical stress.

Si-eun opened the door eventually. He looked at Soo-ho very similarly to the way he had that fateful day, with his doe eyes and pouty lips, though he wasn't quite as surprised to see him now. Soo-ho thought it was unfair that someone who looked constantly annoyed could be so adorable.

"I made spicy ramen this time. But if you don't like it, I made jjajangmyeon." And about ten other things. Soo-ho scratched the back of his neck; Si-eun was looking at him in a way that made his fingertips burn. “But there's the rest of the tteokbokki from earlier today. Yours had ganjang in it, because I didn't know if you liked spicy food, but mine has gochujang in it. I saved some too if you want to try it."

In front of him, Si-eun let out a long breath. His fingers were tightly closed on the door, and he appeared to be holding himself back.

"I'll eat the ramen since it's already on the table. Thanks."

Short and direct. Soo-ho sometimes wondered why he even tried.

"Of course," he muttered awkwardly. "no problem."

And then Si-eun walked past him, smaller and smelling so good, adorable in his motivational shirt and sweatpants, and soon he remembered why.

The two sat down at the table and began to eat in silence. Ten minutes became an eternity, both of them looking uncomfortable and desperate to say something but not knowing where to start. Then, when Si-eun finished eating, he said:

"Being nervous doesn't suit you."

Soo-ho widened his eyes, caught off guard. He probably looked ridiculous, with the food still on his cheeks, a bit of pasta falling down between his lips.

"What?"

"Soo-ho, I'm sorry."

The alpha gulped down the rest of his food so fast he thought he might choke. He didn't know how he should respond, and for a moment he thought he should remain silent. But then he sighed, leaning across the table, his hands wanting to take the omega's in his own and caress them like the precious things they were.

“I told you not to do that anymore." He murmured thoughtfully. He stared Si-eun in the eye, his thick brows lowered in distress. "Why are you apologizing?"

Si-eun looked at the boy's hands on the table and felt his hands vibrate from where they were hidden in his lap.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to answer according to my every wish. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious”

“You don't make me uncomfortable." Although you do make me self-conscious, in a way. Not for any reason other than his own reactions to every version of Si-eun; every sound, every look, every touch. It was a little maddening, a little excruciating, and Soo-ho was a bit of a masochist. "It's just that…" When I’m around you I feel like all the air in my lungs vanishes, like you’re the only source of air available, like my heart depends on you to beat. I’m afraid this intensity will ruin things between us, whatever they are. “I don’t want to hurt you, that’s all."

Si-eun was silent for a few seconds, and Soo-ho feared that he had said all those thoughts out loud. But he looked a mix of annoyed and flattered when he said:

“I'm not that easy to hurt."

That fucking mark on your neck would beg to differ.

"Actually, I'm feeling a little stupid." Si-eun confessed, and he sounded a little relieved as he did so. Soo-ho arched both eyebrows in disbelief.

"You? Stupid?"

"Yes." Soo-ho often made him feel that way, stupid. There was a four-letter word that was commonly associated with that feeling, but Si-eun didn't want to think about its implications; the mere possibility of that being true scared him to death. “Yesterday, I almost sent you flying out of the house because I thought you wanted to mate with me, and now here I am, forcing myself on you."

“You're not forcing yourself on me." Soo-ho replied immediately. He looked a little offended, as if Si-eun was suggesting absurdities or saying something unthinkable. Si-eun would never stop wondering why Soo-ho held him in such high regard. “And even if you were, you're in heat, that's normal and even expected." Stop being so comprehensive, so nice, so kind, so perfect. Si-eun wanted Soo-ho to yell at him, for once “Actually, you seem to be resisting your heat pretty well, given that it's your first." And a forced one, too. The two thought the same thing. “Usually those instincts are very strong and very difficult to fight against."

Soo-ho was silent for a few seconds, until he leaned over the table, his open palms extended towards Si-eun. He gestured with his fingers and Si-eun's arms trembled hesitantly. And then, Si-eun surrendered, taking his hands out of their hiding spot and touching the alpha directly. It was the first time they touched each other with both hands and Si-eun could feel his heart fluttering excitedly in his chest. Soo-ho laced his fingers around his wrists and looked into his eyes. Si-eun could easily avoid that look, but he didn't; because Soo-ho's skin was over his, his scent was back to normal, and therefore Si-eun had no reason to feel less than amazing. And then, Soo-ho said:

"There's nothing wrong with you, okay?" Si-eun felt his breath hitch. “Don't think like that ever again."

Si-eun really couldn't believe it. It was as if Soo-ho had an almost innate understanding of what troubled him, his needs and preferences. The whole day he had been thinking there was something wrong with him, and Soo-ho was telling him otherwise. It made Si-eun feel dizzy and delirious, like he was in a dream sequence.

It took a while for him to formulate a response, and even longer for him to catch his breath to do it. It couldn't have been more than a minute, but under Soo-ho's gaze, Si-eun felt scrutinized, naked, suffocated by a voracious and unending desire that consumed him from within.

“I won't think about it anymore if you stop thinking you're like those other alphas." It was comforting not having to say their names, but they were very much on Soo-ho's mind. Si-eun felt regretful again. “I'm sorry about that too."

Soo-ho shook his head slightly, dissatisfied. He pinched the palm of one of Si-eun's hands, but the gesture was affectionate and didn't hurt; nothing really hurt with him.

"Well, aren't you stubborn?" Soo-ho noted, his voice a tone deeper than normal. “That's the last time I want to hear you apologize. Got it?"

Si-eun remained still, even tenser than before. He hated how attracted he was to the way Soo-ho had scolded him so naturally, in his own home, without a second thought and with the certainty that he wouldn't retaliate. It was a very alluring power dynamic that made him salivate a little, and he tried to blame it on the pepper that still lingered on his tongue, even though the sweetness of his scent contrasted with all that spice.

Given his indecent thoughts, Si-eun didn't answer. Soo-ho was tempted to insist, but the two were old enough to understand silence really did mean consent in some situations. Soo-ho gradually let go of Si-eun's hands and took the dishes, heading towards the sink. While he washed the dishes, the two made small talk in an unspoken agreement to make things more comfortable; this time, Si-eun told him clearly that he had loved the food, even though he wasn't used to eating such spicy things — he hadn't devoured everything like a starved madman either, which was already a progress.

Afterwards, Soo-ho started putting away all the food he had made. Si-eun commented that he should take some pots home, but Soo-ho refused, saying that he "should eat real food more often." The only way Si-eun could thank him was by helping him out, ignoring the way his throat closed up.

When they finished, Si-eun said:

"Soo-ho-ya, you bought a lot of nesting accessories, didn't you?"

Soo-ho looked at him over his shoulder, confused. His hand, which was cleaning the table, stopped abruptly.

"Yes, why?"

The omega looked sheepish. His cheeks turned pink under the orange light of the kitchen and Soo-ho had to turn his back to him before he did something stupid, like nibbling at his still plump cheeks and declaring all his undying devotion that he had no idea when it started. 

"I was thinking…" Si-eun started, and it was a little weird for him to beat around the bush. “Maybe we could rebuild the nest with those things you bought. I don't think it's fair that they go to waste."

Soo-ho stopped his repetitive movements for good. He was cleaning the same spot ever since Si-eun started talking. He dropped the cloth and turned around, not sure if he'd heard correctly, and could feel a nervous sweat form at the top of his forehead.

"You…" He paused a bit, as if testing the atmosphere. "You want me to rebuild your nest with you?"

Si-eun nodded, with an expression on his face that said, "That's what I just said."

Soo-ho took a deep breath. That's okay, that's fine, I can handle this like a mature, responsible alpha. But then, Si-eun was speaking again:

“You're always so skittish when it comes to my nest. You don't get too close unless I ask you to, and you don't go inside unless I let you. Is there anything about nests I don't know about?"

Of course Si-eun had noticed, he was a genius — albeit a bit socially and emotionally constipated. Even though he was very smart, everything related to his sub-gender — or any sub-gender for that matter — seemed to be a big mystery. Soo-ho was tempted to explain, but he didn't want to sound condescending. Still, he felt compelled to tell the truth:

“Well, it's just… An omega's nest is sacred."

Si-eun arched his eyebrows in surprise. Of everything the alpha could have said, he didn't expect it to be that. And now that he had verbalized it, Si-eun should have seen it coming; Soo-ho really did treat his nest as something sacred, and he had noticed it, he had secretly blushed in the dim light of his room as the other boy sat on the floor and rubbed his belly.

Soo-ho must have been bothered by his stare, because he soon chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. Si-eun was getting too familiar with his little idiosyncrasies.

“Don't take it too seriously, it's just something I heard when I was growing up." He picked up the cloth and put it back in its place near the laundry room in a desperate attempt to hide his anxiousness. “The nest is usually where omegas give birth, where they stay with their mates, where they go through their heats." Where puppies are conceived, he wanted to say, but he refrained. “So, naturally, it's not a place just anyone can touch or enter."

He looked at Si-eun for a few seconds before looking away at the washed dishes. Si-eun, however, seemed determined in his decision. Stubborn.

“But you're not just anyone." He replied; firm, convicted, maybe a little offended. Soo-ho turned to face him. “And I've already let you lie in my nest several times, so I don't see why you shouldn't help me rebuild it." He commented, logical and rational as if Soo-ho's heart wasn't being crushed like a lemon for lemonade. “Unless you don't want to."

Soo-ho almost wanted to yell at him. He wanted to shake his shoulders and look him so deep in the eyes that his pupils would encompass his entire sclera. Don't you realize? Don't you realize that I do whatever you want? Do you want to torture me?

"Alright." He sighed, gesturing with his hand for Si-eun to accompany him to the laundry room. “I put the things over here."

As it turned out, Si-eun and Soo-ho were a great team.

They took the bag filled with products for omegas in heat — “I can't believe they make so much money out of omegas”; “To be fair, they make a lot of money out of alphas too, just not in the way you'd expect” — and they walked into the room. They put the air freshener and the scent dispensers on the counter, which were pretty much the same thing, the only difference being that the dispensers were much smaller and had lots of different flavors to release into the air.

Then they took out the old sheets and replaced them with new ones. Si-eun took the liberty of changing some blouses that were in the nest for others, and resisted the absurd urge to ask Soo-ho to take off his shirt so that he could also put it there. He wondered when he'd gotten out of his school uniform, and found himself wishing those pieces were within easy reach, still with the scent of Soo-ho emanating from their fabric.

When Si-eun was satisfied, Soo-ho offered him some soft fabrics with comforting scents. Si-eun liked the vanilla and caramel ones, and he didn't mind the raspberry, daisy and bluebell ones either; but he didn't appreciate the citrusy and refreshing aromas, asking Soo-ho to set them apart. While Soo-ho put the used sheets in the washing machine, Si-eun took the liberty of rummaging through the bag and getting some other accessories, which were basically pillows. But he noticed that Soo-ho had bought some stuffed animals as well — a rabbit and a cat — and he put them in the nest without much thought. He wondered what went through Soo-ho's mind when he decided to buy them, if any of them reminded him of Si-eun. The thought made him blush a little.

When Soo-ho returned, he took the last missing item out of the bag: a massage oil.

"Since you prefer my hands on you." He said with a smirk as he shook the package in his left hand. Si-eun felt his face heat up for the infinite time in the last two days or so; there was no way he was being innocent now. Si-eun wanted to take back what he said for a moment, but it wouldn't make a difference.

And then, when everything was ready, the two lay down in their usual positions that were becoming very familiar very fast. Si-eun managed not to sigh when he felt how much his nest was renewed, but he couldn't help noticing the intimacy of the act: Soo-ho had helped him make his nest, which was something extremely personal — something that even Si-eun was aware, even if he didn't attribute it to sacredness — and now he was lying beside him, his chest against his back, his hands tracing circles on his stomach, warm and wet from the oil, sliding almost seductively against his skin. Si-eun took a few deep, slow breaths, trying to calm his heart and slow down his lower body reactions. It didn't work.

Eventually, the left side of his body in contact with the bed went numb, and he turned over, bumping into Soo-ho's chest. He raised his head slightly, moving away a little, but his spatial awareness seemed to have suffered a blow, because he was still very close, so close that he could hear the sound of Soo-ho's breathing and feel it on his face. And his lips, well, his lips were very close too.

He couldn't help but remember the night before, when the tension was palpable and obvious. At some point, he hoped Soo-ho would kiss him, almost begged in his mind, but he ended up scenting him instead. This time, he wanted things to be different. He wanted Soo-ho to put his chivalry aside for a moment, put himself over him like he did before, smash their lips together, rock his hips against his.

“Si-eun-ah,” Soo-ho murmured, his voice low and careful since they were so close. His name sounded a thousand times better when pronounced like that, and those words tickled his cheek. He felt a sense of déjà vu and tried not to latch onto the alpha in anticipation. "You want me to kiss you, don't you?"

Si-eun felt his heart go up to his mouth and fall back. He was now convinced that telepathy was real, perhaps there was even a scientific explanation for it. Every vein in his body was about to burst and he found himself unable to think for a few seconds.

"I…"

“I won't, if you're wondering."

Just as Si-eun was becoming familiar with Soo-ho's gestures, Soo-ho had also reached a point where understanding Si-eun wasn't that difficult. The main reason was his scent, which denoted any change in his mood. As both of them were very recently presented, they couldn't control their scents very well, and they were very volatile. The scents of the teachers, older and more experienced, were always so neutral. His grandmother, too, barely showed any change in her rose and cotton smell. Even when she was angry at him, she smelled of comfort and security.

But there was nothing neutral between him and Si-eun. He felt as if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, about to rip it out of his chest and hand it to him on a silver platter, saying, "Here, have it, it's yours; do what you'd like with it." Secretly, he liked to think that Si-eun felt the same way too, because he looked extremely miserable after what he had just said. He felt awful and guilty, but the right thing to do was never the easiest. Before he could explain himself, Si-eun broke the silence:

"Should I ask why?"

Soo-ho gulped, tasting something sour. The omega was upset and his entire existence as an alpha was being threatened by his droopy eyes and sad expression.

“Because when we're in heat, or in a rut, we say, think, and do things we don't mean; we are controlled by our feelings and innate needs. The intensity of the symptoms vary from person to person, but this is true for everyone, to some degree."

Si-eun didn't have the strength to argue with him because, to his great horror, he found himself agreeing, even though it caused him immense pain. He felt his mouth go dry and his eyes sting.

"And when kissing is involved, those feelings can become messy, and tricky, often difficult to stay chaste. You must know, even if you don't remember, that an omega's heat can trigger an alpha's rut if they get too involved, and this is usually when people lose control completely. I don't want that to happen."

Si-eun felt his hands involuntarily curl into fists, resting on the alpha's bicep. His nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel that horrible, familiar feeling in his throat, in the corner of his eyes, in the quiver of his lips. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would stop altogether.

“This is your first heat, and I don't want you to regret anything. I want this to be as calm and pleasant as it can possibly be for you."

Si-eun felt the tears fall, hot and salty and flowy like a river. The alpha's hands were all over his face in an instant.

"Oh, pup." His voice was shaky, a tinge of genuine pain embellishing his words. “Don't be mad at me, please." His big thumbs tried to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't stop falling, wetting everything again. “I don't want to hurt you, that's all."

Si-eun wanted to reach out to him, to convey whatever he was feeling in a way that made sense, but he couldn't. It felt like his lungs were burning and he was melting from the inside out. And then, large, callused, gentle hands pulled his face upwards, towards a loving gaze.

"Look at me." He demanded, though far less authoritative than an alpha could be. Soo-ho looked a little desperate, quite hurt too. “Si-eun, pup, look at me."

Si-eun couldn't see clearly with all the water pooling in his eyes, but he made sure to at least turn in his direction.

"I know you're frustrated and a little angry, but-"

"I'm not angry." He found himself answering, much to his and Soo-ho's surprise. "I'm not angry, I'm not mad, I'm not…" He sighed, desperate for air. “I'm actually so relieved."

Soo-ho couldn't say anything, as if he had been hit by a spell. Si-eun gripped his arms, his fingertips leaving marks on Soo-ho's skin as a token of his emotion.

“I'm so relieved that I ended up here with you and not anyone else. Anyone else wouldn't have thought twice about my needs, or my condition, or whether I would regret something or not." He took a deep breath, incredulous at how easily he was opening his heart. “Nobody else would have been so considerate, and nobody else has ever treated me this way, like I… like I matter." He felt a few tears fall, crossing the bridge of his nose until they formed a small stain on the sheet. “I'm relieved, and I'm grateful, that's all."

Soo-ho was speechless for a solid minute. He was releasing calming pheromones, but his own scent was wavering, hinting at his mental state. He took a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak, and Si-eun knew he was holding back his own tears as well.

"See?" He began, voice shaking and fingers trembling over Si-eun's cheeks, where his hot tears were still falling silently. “It's the second time you've cried. The actual Yeon Si-eun would never do something like that."

Si-eun snorted unexpectedly, letting out a wet and spontaneous laugh that reached Soo-ho's ears like an angelic chorus. With the beautiful and rare sight of Si-eun's smile, Soo-ho felt like he could breathe again, opening a smile himself.

"See? And it's the second time you've smiled. The actual Yeon Si-eun would never do something like that either."

Si-eun pouted at this, frowning almost playfully. Soo-ho felt like screaming; the decision not to kiss him was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his short life.

"I'm considering making you sleep on the couch."

Soo-ho arched his eyebrows, playful as well.

"Seriously? Because if you really want me to-"

“No, I was kidding." Si-eun's grip on his arms got even stronger, if that was even possible. Soo-ho didn't mind that one bit, in fact, he liked it quite a lot. "Stay.”

Soo-ho smiled fondly, as he often did. A calm and serene smile that managed to calm Si-eun's racing heart in a second. He wasn't crying anymore, much to Soo-ho's relief. And then the alpha was looping the omega's arms around his shoulders and pulling him even closer, almost laying him on top of him. Si-eun resisted the urge to purr in satisfaction.

“Yes, I'll stay for as long as you like."

Si-eun couldn't understand how he could do that. One word from him and his heart beat faster, one soothing touch and he was back to normal; one kind gesture and he felt like crying, one particular movement of his fingers and he felt like melted butter in his hands, slick and leaking. He couldn't understand, he simply couldn't; that was a test he couldn't ace, a problem he didn't know the answer to.

“I don't know what this feeling is."

Soo-ho turned his gaze down to look at him. His warm hand found his hair again, stroking it as if he'd been doing it his whole life. Si-eun wished he would, for as long as the world turned around and around.

"I don't know either." He murmured. He didn't seem too bothered. “But that's okay, 'cause we can figure it out together."

Si-eun felt the urge to cry again, but he held back his own tears. Instead, he gifted Soo-ho with a shy, almost imperceptible smile.

"Okay." He nodded, before laying his head on Soo-ho's shoulder like that morning. He could feel the alpha's strong pulse and his heart racing under his left hand. And then, a wet, soft, but very firm touch on his forehead, unable to be mistaken for anything other than what it really was.

A kiss.

"Sorry." Soo-ho muttered breathlessly above him. “Couldn't resist it this time."

Si-eun became very still, assimilating the gesture. He couldn’t understand Soo-ho sometimes; what was that whole speech for if he was just going to kiss him on the forehead and leave him hot and bothered again? He couldn't understand any of that. But perhaps he didn't really need to; maybe he just had to let his heart run its marathon until it got tired and appreciate the tingles Soo-ho's lips caused in his skin. Maybe he just had to enjoy what was greater than knowledge, what went beyond rationality, wonderful in its simplicity. 

And so, Si-eun snuggled even further into the alpha, feeling him shiver and tense under his touch. He went to sleep with a warm feeling in his chest, but this time the fever was as welcome and pleasant as the touch of the boy who had his affections.

They were creating a routine.

It was too early to tell, but Si-eun thought too much, and he could notice patterns, however few. Honestly, he should have seen it coming; he shouldn't have underestimated his emotions to the point of thinking that he wouldn't grow fond of Soo-ho, that the image of him in his kitchen cooking something for the two of them and making small talk wouldn't pull at his heart strings, that his broad shoulders and his comforting scent wouldn't make him spoiled; that waking up next to him wouldn't change his entire genetic disposition and make him crave things he swore weren't for him — things of a romantic kind, dreamy and distant.

Even though it was too soon to tell, Si-eun had noticed similarities in the last two days of that long weekend: they would wake up embraced, one right after the other; then they would stay from thirty to sixty minutes still snuggled up — Soo-ho always scented him first thing in the morning and started doing it much more often; Si-eun was giddy every time, though he would never admit it. Afterwards, Soo-ho served some food that he had prepared, which worked as breakfast and lunch alike, and they would do something else together, something that didn't require so much effort on Si-eun's part.

That day, Soo-ho had given him another shower. And while Soo-ho soaped him up — this time, Si-eun asked him to use his hands; he turned around before he could see Soo-ho's smug smile, feeling his ears burning — he asked:

"What about your job?"

Soo-ho paused what he was doing for a second, surprised by the question, but then he continued, unconcerned.

"I called my boss and said I needed to take time off."

Another short silence session.

"You don't work on weekends, do you?"

Soo-ho turned on the shower.

"I usually work some Saturdays, but it has been less and less frequent. Miss Choi may seem cold, but she takes pity on me, her trustfull delivery boy and part-time table cleaner." He said casually, watching the spectacle of the soap bubbles disintegrating and revealing the small freckles on Si-eun's back. “She easily found a replacement for me, but my grandmother wasn't happy when I had to tell her. But I'm sure she's fine, I'm barely home anyway, she's used to not seeing me that much."

Si-eun couldn't help but feel a little saddened by that comment. For such a nice, kind, and cool guy, Soo-ho seemed to have his own fair share of loneliness and overwork.

“You should sleep in real beds more often." He found himself muttering, and almost wanted to laugh at the similarity of their speeches. Perhaps the two of them were more alike than he initially thought.

Behind him, Soo-ho let out a light laugh.

“In an ideal world, I would."

That had happened a few hours ago. Now, late Sunday night, the two of them were sitting on the sofa, staring into space and having an idle chat. Or at least they were.

“Si-eun-ah. Earth to Yeon Si-eun!” Soo-ho called out to him, making him blink rapidly in surprise. "Where did you go? You haven't even touched your banana milk!"

Si-eun took a long sip from his straw. He felt like a child.

“I was thinking about lots of things."

“Well, tell me more." Soo-ho approached him, taking a sip from his own strawberry milk. Si-eun looked away, skittish. He wasn't used to people being interested in what he had to say if it wasn't the answer to some entrance exam question. He found it a little irritating, actually.

“I was just thinking about your lifestyle and how it's different from mine." Well, that wasn't so difficult. But, right beside him, Soo-ho shook his head in disappointment.

"Enough about me, I wanna know about you." He pointed at Si-eun's chest, as if he was pretending to intimidate him. "I always talk more and you often leave me talking to myself. That hurts, you know?" He crumpled his hand into a fist in front of his heart. Si-eun sighed. He really has a thing for the dramatics. "What do you do besides studying? Where were you born? Who are your parents? What do they do for a living? What do you want to do for a living?"

Si-eun felt more and more uncomfortable as he continued to ask questions. Maybe he gave Soo-ho too much freedom, and that intimacy they were forming was very different from anything he had ever experienced, but he couldn't bring himself to feel angry. There was something pure and honest about Soo-ho's curiosity, even if he wasn't the best at picking out the nuances of human intentions. And, deep down, he felt that he owed something to Soo-ho; It wasn't a healthy way of thinking, he knew, but he believed the least he could do to repay all Soo-ho had done to him was at least share a little bit of himself. There was a chance that Soo-ho wasn't going to like what he was about to hear, and maybe he might even stop enjoying Si-eun's company as that relationship, whatever it was, developed. There were all those risks, but still, Si-eun decided to answer; because if there was one person who deserved to know how he felt, it was Soo-ho.

"I was born here, in this town." He started. Soo-ho's scent spiked a little, excited that his attempt at conversation was not rejected. Si-eun almost smiled. “But sometimes, I wish I hadn't been born at all."

Soo-ho stopped drinking his milk, the straw sipping noise ceased almost immediately. He definitely wasn't expecting that.

"What-"

“My parents weren't ready to have me. To be honest, I don't think they even liked each other that much to begin with. I was the result of their irresponsibility and they didn't even have the decency to fight in a low voice so that I wouldn't hear their complaints. I was just a kid when I found out that neither of them really wanted to take care of me, but that has never left my mind." He sucked into a straw, the last few sips bitter and acidic, but delicious. It felt good to speak the truth; a relief.  "Since then, I've been the most perfect son possible, trying my best to make them proud through my grades. I was probably the least fussy kid in all of South Korea. I always took prizes home for good behavior. A prize machine, that's what I am; at least that way they can show me off and I'm of some use to them."

Surprisingly, Si-eun felt good; light. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders by admitting something that caused him so much pain, something as present and real as the silence of that apartment. Saying that to someone other than the walls or himself was like letting those feelings go and rest somewhere else, outside his mind, releasing his emotions from a huge prison.

Soo-ho, however, didn't seem to know how to deal with that gigantic information. So he kept asking.

"Do you live by yourself?" Did they make financial efforts to keep you away, like the heartless sons of bitches they are?

"No, I live with my father."

Soo-ho seemed to be calculating the speed of light in his head.

"And where is he?" He asked indignantly. It was a miracle there wasn't strawberry milk all over the place, given the way he was squeezing that small carton. Si-eun let out a humorless snort.

"He's working. He's always away, managing a team of whatever somewhere. I don't care that much, to be honest. I'm used to it."

Si-eun didn't want to meet Soo-ho's pitying look, so he continued drinking his milk as if nothing had happened. But if he turned a little to the side, he would realize that Soo-ho's look wasn't one of pity, but anger, pure and strong, the kind that made one’s jaw clench and one’s hands clench into fists. Si-eun could feel a strange scent emanating from him, smoky, but he didn't comment.

After a few minutes of silence, Soo-ho stated:

“I'm sure that counts as a crime in some way, since you're underage.” He drank the rest of the juice straight from the lid, putting the straw aside. Si-eun looked at him sideways, seeing his throat move. When he lowered his head again, Si-eun stared out the open window, pretending that the dark night was interesting to him. “He's been who knows where doing who knows what, having no idea that his son has presented, not even considering that it was close to happening.”

Si-eun didn't bother thinking that his father would care. But also, he had a very specific problem that wouldn't make him realize even if he lay down on Si-eun's bed, his oh so sacred nest.

“My father had an accident just before I was born.” Si-eun continued, quickly taking Soo-ho's attention. “He used to be an athlete and, in one of his big games or something, he hit his head. The piriform cortex was affected. He was never able to smell anything again, nor anyone's scent.” Who knows, maybe that's why he became so unhappy and I was just lucky enough to be born soon after; maybe it's not entirely my fault.

Soo-ho bit his tongue. “That’s horrible.”

Si-eun nodded. “Yes. So even if he were here, he wouldn't be able to tell. I would have to tell him.”

"And you intend to tell him, don't you?"

Si-eun looked Soo-ho in the eyes again after a long time. Soo-ho had arched eyebrows: You’ll tell him, won't you?

"I don't see why I have to-”

“Si-eun-ah!”

"He won't arrive until my heat is over, I'm sure of it. He hasn't arrived yet, I don't see why I have to tell him.”

“Because you are his son.”

“Well, it sure doesn’t look like it.”

Soo-ho took a deep breath, still staring at him with that mixed expression of concern and irritation that shouldn't be so attractive.

“Let me rephrase the sentence." He went on. “Because it's part of your identity. It's who you are. And mostly, because it happened, and you were drugged. Don't you think he should know?”

Si-eun sighed, biting his bottom lip in annoyance. Soo-ho had a point, but so did he.

“I'll tell him I'm an omega. He was going to find out one way or another.” He replied. Soo-ho lowered his shoulders, which were slightly hunched and tense. “But I refuse to tell him that Young-bin had anything to do with it. I'll sort this out myself.”

Si-eun's tone indicated closure; he was unwilling to change his mind. Soo-ho thought of retaliating, of telling him he shouldn't do anything too abrupt — what do you mean, "I'll sort this out myself"? — but he didn't want to argue. It was already a miracle that Si-eun was talking about himself so much, he didn't want to push the issue.

He crumpled up the flavored milk carton, leaving it on the coffee table. He had drunk five of them and was tempted to get more from the fridge, but he didn't want to get up. When Si-eun finally finished his first banana milk, he said:

“I don't know much about you, no matter how talkative you are.” Soo-ho figured he really was talkative by Si-eun's silent standards. “What about your parents?”

Soo-ho sighed. He feared that this subject would come up at some point, but not anytime soon. He had started it, so nothing fairer than sharing too.

“They died in a plane crash when I was little.”

Si-eun didn't show much emotion but, to Soo-ho's surprise, he started to emit pheromones as well. Sweet and light, but soothing in every way. He felt better in an instant, if not for the effort and consideration. He wanted to hug him and not let go.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine” Soo-ho nodded, not looking anywhere in particular. “It’s been ten years. I have few memories, but they are all great. And my grandmother made a point of displaying pictures of them all over the house.”

Si-eun felt his lips curl into a small smile. Soo-ho's grandmother seemed to be a great woman.

"Sounds like our parenting situation is trash, isn't it?" Soo-ho commented shortly after. Si-eun wanted to giggle at the breach of expectation, but he couldn't disagree. “If my case can be called a situation.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Until Si-eun's heart began to pound, those familiar tremors running through his body and a very strong emotion paralyzing him completely.

"But you know, Si-eun-ah..." The reason behind all that mumbled, almost shyly, almost as if confessing a deep secret. “I'm glad you were born.”

Si-eun swallowed his saliva, looking away to the window again, not sure if he wanted to escape those butterflies in his stomach or not.

“I'm glad you were born too.” He whispered, barely audible, but enough for Soo-ho to hear. And he couldn't see it, but somehow he knew he was smiling.

They continued talking, albeit on much lighter topics, such as their preferred way to eat eggs for breakfast; — the fact that Si-eun didn't know the answer to that question made Soo-ho extremely perplexed — until they heard a distant sound, sounding a lot like a choir, high-pitched and harmonic, a nostalgic aspect coming from the open window.

“Are you hearing this?" Soo-ho asked, and Si-eun nodded. “Where is this song coming from?”

Si-eun blinked, and then let out a loud grunt. Soo-ho probably shouldn't have found that expression of frustration adorable, but he did.

“Arg, it's the neighbor.” He grumbled, sinking further into the couch. “Every Sunday he plays loud music. It disturbs my study time, but I’ve been getting used to it.”

Soo-ho wanted to mock him, but could only stare in awe.

“Do you ever stop studying?”

Si-eun stared at him, and his eyes looked a lot bigger when he looked up at him. Soo-ho turned away, feeling his cheeks flush. And then, when he realized it, he was getting up and holding out his hand to the other boy:

“Can you dance?”

Si-eun stared at him as if he had grown another head.

"Do I look like I can dance?" Soo-ho laughed. He couldn't handle him. “Can you dance?”

“Pff, no.”

Si-eun almost felt relieved. If Soo-ho was really good at everything, Si-eun would only be able to surpass him in studies; not that it was a competition, but it was a little irritating to be around someone so perfect.

“But I can sway to the music. And I'm not that bad at English, either.”

Of course you’re not, Si-eun thought, but he couldn't get mad. He thought he couldn't really get mad at Soo-ho.

He thought, too, that he would be more resistant to that ridiculous proposal. But Soo-ho pulled him with surreal strength and soon he was on his feet, one hand on his shoulder and the other firmly holding his hand, their fingers intertwined. Soo-ho's right hand was resting on his hip, and it was strangely comforting.

"Now, follow my lead. It'll be easy, since we’ll just be swaying.”

It was actually pretty easy, nothing that required a lot of resistance from his body. The song was slow, but not too slow for them to almost stop, and at a certain point, they got closer until their chests touched. And they got closer still.

English wasn't Si-eun’s forte, but he could understand a thing or two. Put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms. He could feel his face getting warmer, realizing how their position bore resemblance to the lyric; perhaps words of tenderness were indeed universal. He couldn't remember exactly when his head came to rest on Soo-ho's shoulder, but he knew from experience that it was a very comfortable position to be in. And in fact it was so natural, that he wasn't even aware of himself, approaching the other boy like a pole opposite magnet.

Soo-ho, on the other hand, was trying to remain cool. He had to admit that he sometimes got himself into trouble — although this particular trouble was infinitely better than the fights he ended up involved in. It still made his blood boil, his heart beat faster, his breath hitch and his pupils dilate, but for very different reasons; much nobler ones, he would say.

As the song progressed, Soo-ho ended up wrapping both hands around Si-eun's waist, occasionally stroking his back. Si-eun did the same, his arms hugging him tight. Now they were just rocking back and forth, tangled together, their hearts beating against each other, their scents mingling; leather and coffee.

“I told you it would be easy.” Soo-ho murmured, his breath tickling Si-eun's hair. The omega turned to face him, the slightest hint of a smile in his face. That made Soo-ho reciprocate and, as a result, have all the air sucked out of his lungs.

Si-eun was looking at him from where he stood, just below his jawline. His eyes were gentle, warm, and Soo-ho thought they carried a sweetness that wasn’t there before; fondness, for lack of better word —  or perhaps, for fear of what it could truly mean. Soo-ho, not for the first time, found himself unable to tear his eyes away from him, mesmerized and enchanted as if he had been bewitched. There was something addicting to the way Si-eun seemed to complete him — his head fit perfectly in the wide space of his shoulders, his hands were the perfect shape to intertwine with his own, his forehead was the perfect height for him to kiss. He was perfect, everything about him was perfect. 

There, looking at that boy — that perfect, perfect boy —, with his head resting on his shoulder like the song said, Soo-ho thought that he must be in love. Maybe. Perhaps. Just a little. 

Was it too soon to fall in love? Was it just his sub-gender playing tricks on him? Soo-ho didn't know; he just knew that what he felt for Si-eun, whatever it was, was true, and deep, and insistent. Perhaps it was true, even if absurd, that this was love indeed.

“What are you looking at?” The object of all his affections asked after a while. Neither of them had looked away, so Soo-ho could have asked him the same question. But Si-eun had all the more reason to ask. Why are you staring at me like that?

Soo-ho felt the strong urge to say something cheesy and melodramatic just for the sake of it. He contemplated the answers I'm looking at the love of my life or my entire world or my reason to live. Perhaps he would see Si-eun's lips forming a surprised “O” shape, or his face falling into a contemplative, fearful gaze, in which he would question whether Soo-ho was being truthful or not. Those intrusive thoughts were all too real for Soo-ho, even though he didn't want to face his own feelings just yet. He wanted to enjoy Si-eun's company as much as he could, so he just said:

"There's something in the corner of your eye." He removed one of his hands from Si-eun's hip and, very gently, touched the corner of the boy's left eye, which closed in reflex. Yes, I think I'm in love. “Silly.”

Apparently, Si-eun didn't like being called an infantilizing term with that much tenderness; or maybe he liked it, because he soon turned his head to the other side, still on Soo-ho's shoulder, but so that the alpha could no longer see his face. But his plan didn't quite work; Soo-ho could clearly see that the tips of his ears were as red as strawberries, and he wanted to nibble on them.

“You could’ve just told me.” He murmured, but his voice was muffled against Soo-ho's shirt. Soo-ho couldn't hold back his laughter.

They continued to sway long after the song ended. Some others came on the radio, until the neighbor decided to turn it off. When they had been dancing to no music for ten minutes, Soo-ho gently tried to free himself, but he noticed that Si-eun's head and body were heavy on him. He scoffed a little, though he wasn't the least bit annoyed.

"I'm starting to think I'm pretty boring." He muttered, barely resisting the urge to bury his face in the smaller boy's hair. “You always get sleepy when I'm around.”

Si-eun was grateful that he wasn't staring at the alpha, or he would clearly see his drooping eyelids. Perhaps the only thing keeping him awake was the need to keep up on his feet; the swaying, the songs, the scent of Soo-ho so close, his warmth, his rhythmic heartbeat — it was all the ideal lullaby. He was starting to realize that saying what he felt wasn't so bad, quite the opposite, so he found himself admitting:

“You make me comfortable.” He whispered, his voice muffled and husky vibrating through Soo-ho's skin. The alpha's heart sped up and he almost smiled.

"Well..." Soo-ho cleared his throat one last time that day, and the flutter was pleasant under Si-eun's skin. "Let's go back to the nest then."

Almost an hour later, in the dark of Si-eun's room and when Soo-ho swore that the omega had already fallen asleep, he was surprised by his voice, sleepy and muffled from where he was, with his head on his chest, almost in his belly. Soo-ho thought he was dreaming when he heard:

"Soo-ho-ya…" His voice trailed off. Maybe Si-eun was the one dreaming. Soo-ho felt his skin tingle where Si-eun's lips touched him through his shirt. “If you tell anyone, even your grandma, that I cried twice, or that I danced to a romantic song with you, I'll kill you.”

Soo-ho let out a very hearty, sincere laugh. Si-eun didn't even flinch.

“Ya, Yeon Si-eun!” He exclaimed, incredulous. He couldn't believe him. "You think you can kill me?"

Si-eun was silent for a few minutes. Soo-ho thought he had only mumbled in his sleep. But then, after what seemed like hours, he replied:

“I wouldn't be able to beat you in a physical fight, but there are plenty of other ways to kill someone.”

Soo-ho should be a little scared, or at least worried. Soo-ho should see that boy's awkwardness for what it really was: awkwardness. But he couldn't find any fault, and he wasn't scared, because he understood Si-eun's sense of humor; but besides that, he was too gone for him to even think anything negative.

"You’d use poison, wouldn't you?" He went along with it. That banter they had really was delightful. “You’ve got me there, can't fist fight poison.”

“Mmh.” Si-eun murmured in agreement. It didn't take long for Soo-ho to hear his breath grow heavier and his soft snores. Not long after that, he fell asleep too, one hand resting on Si-eun's lower back, the other tangled in his hair. Soo-ho went to sleep feeling happier than ever.

When Monday arrived, Si-eun woke up feeling surprisingly good.

His body was heavy, but he didn't have a headache or dizziness. The cramping was so weak it felt more like the memory of an ache that was once there. He spent a good few minutes there, enjoying Soo-ho's warmth all around him, waiting for him to awake. But this time, he didn't wake up with his smell like he normally did, and only then Si-eun realized that his scent was very weak, taking mostly the smell of books.

He got up slowly, feeling strange for being apparently fine, normal. He noted that there was no nausea or vertigo in the act of getting up and, as if to refute his own body, he scrambled to his feet in one go. He got a little dizzy and his vision went dark, but it went by so fast it was like it hadn't even happened.

He sat still for a while, letting gravity do its work, but he realized that he was no longer releasing slick. His undergarments were dry, if not for a few patches of dried slick. He wrinkled his nose. Yikes.

He reached for his cell phone on the desk. It was nine-fifteen in the morning, much earlier than the two of them used to wake up. If he wasn't mistaken, it was around that time that he had presented, three days ago.

Three days. Three days since he was drugged. Three days of being a presented omega. Three days that felt like three weeks. Three days since everything had changed, though whether for better or worse he couldn't be sure.

Three days. His heat had come to an end.

As bizarre as it seemed, Si-eun felt a little sad. It was as if he had entered a parallel reality, got used to it, and needed to return. That little routine he referred to with such affinity no longer made sense.

And it didn't make sense for Soo-ho to stay there either.

Si-eun felt his heart constrict. If he thought too much about the torture it would be to go back to his old solitude, he would become very depressed. Even looking at Soo-ho, sleeping peacefully in his bed — in his nest — was painful, almost like a reminder of something he couldn't have.

Because after all, his heat was over, and he couldn't be so selfish as to keep Soo-ho there any longer than necessary. He had a life, jobs to attend to, and Si-eun also had his own set of commitments. Besides, that was the longest amount of time he had gone without studying; he feared he had already forgotten everything, as his paranoia liked to make him think.

He inhaled the faint scent of pinewood, unable to feel the leather, trying to calm himself. He opened the door very lightly and headed into the kitchen. There were few things that Si-eun knew how to do besides studying, but he knew how to make instant noodles — even if he ate them raw most of the time for convenience and time saving — and he knew how to make coffee. Maybe that was one of the reasons why nature decided to give him that caffeine scent; to keep him awake and energetic, if only to survive, and also because it was something he knew how to reproduce.

As he watched the coffee machine work its magic, he was swept away by a scent that was virtually identical to his own, though it was clearly stronger, and it did a great deal to calm him down. Warmed by that familiarity, he was able to reason a little.

Soo-ho had missed work on Friday, and probably Saturday as well. He hadn't seen his grandmother in over a week, assuming the last time he saw her was last Monday morning before he left for work. His boss had probably taken those days out of his salary, as that kind of job was very unstable. He had spent 300,000 won that Si-eun had no idea how he was going to pay back. And to top off that whole list, he was practically being hunted down by the school council for giving a criminal a well-deserved beating.

There was a lot to take in, but whatever Si-eun could do to make it up to Soo-ho, he would do it, even if it put him in danger. He wasn't going to let anyone force him into heat again, and now that he was a fully presented omega, he felt fine; refreshed, even. He was the last flower that bloomed, but he was as ferocious as the others.

He knew what he had to do. Soo-ho had put the proof of what had happened to him in a safe place, in a plastic little pot on his desk. That dangerous patch was his ticket to a messy and maybe even violent spectacle, but Si-eun couldn't help but feel a little excited.

He felt the tips of his fingers burn. And then, the coffee was ready.

Soo-ho opened the door as soon as he finished pouring the drink into a cup. He automatically took another one and poured it too.

“Damn it pup, you woke up too early.” He said, yawning and stretching at the same time. His arms grew impossibly long with the act and his shirt lifted a little, showing some of his hips and, to Si-eun's mortifying surprise, some of his v-line. “Good morning.” He murmured, his voice hoarse and slurred.

Si-eun felt like dropping those two cups on the floor. Oh no, he couldn't deal with that at nine-thirty in the morning, he just couldn't. How could he act normally when Soo-ho woke up so handsome? And how could he act calm when that damn hoarse voice made him shiver every time? How could he even act? He wanted to stand there like a statue and transfer all his thoughts to Soo-ho telepathically. It wasn't like he hadn't read his thoughts before.

“M-Morning” He stammered, feeling his entire body heat up from head to toe. He put those two cups on the table wanting to die. But Soo-ho was very calm when he sat down, and he took one without complaining.

“I woke up scared, thinking that strong smell was yours.” He commented. “I went straight to look for you as soon as I woke up, but it was real coffee.”

So thoughtful and concerned and kind and everything that was good in the world. Arg, Si-eun really wanted to die. Or maybe throw himself into Soo-ho's embrace and never leave. Something in between.

“Yeah, coffee is one of the few things I can do.” He muttered bluntly. The drink was devoid of any sweetness, much like him had that morning.

Soo-ho laughed softly in front of him.

“Don't say that, I'm sure you know how to do many other things.”

Si-eun tried to smile, but it came out as a strange, forced grimace. He hid his face as he tipped the cup, feeling the heat of the coffee burn his tongue. He imagined that he would be immune to the effects of that psychoactive substance, since it was injected into his very essence. But it burned, and he was almost grateful. Grateful to feel that the world was once again as bitter and violent as it had always been. Grateful to see the truth beyond Soo-ho's eyes.

To the delight of Si-eun's procrastination — which manifested itself very rarely, thank you — Soo-ho drank his coffee in silence and didn't say anything else. Eventually Si-eun would have to say something, but for now, they could enjoy each other's company in a silence that took long to become comfortable. Soo-ho offered him some food from the fridge, but Si-eun refused, saying he wasn't hungry. At that point, Si-eun imagined that Soo-ho already suspected something; the alpha wasn't stupid, and Si-eun couldn't hide his annoyance as well as he used to.

And then, after he finished washing the dishes for that silent breakfast, Soo-ho returned to his seat in front of Si-eun, and said:

“Your heat is over.”

Si-eun nodded weakly.

“You noticed.”

I notice everything about you, Soo-ho wanted to say, but held back for the simple fact that that wasn't true. There would always be something Soo-ho wouldn't be able to notice or intervene, no matter how much he wanted to be completely consumed by Si-eun. He couldn't get inside his pretty little head, couldn't predict his next moves. Perhaps that was why he had never been in love before; he was too intense, too over the top, putting his heart on display like it was an accessory.

“So, um…” He started. He raised his hand a little, but then lowered it, noticing his habit of scratching the back of his neck every time he got nervous. “I warned my boss and my grandmother that I would be away for five days. Our school entitles us to two more days of leave when we enter our cycles.”

Si-eun was expressionless in front of him, blinking once every minute, looking physically fine but emotionally empty. And looking at him now, Soo-ho knew he understood what he meant. That he wanted to stay there, in that paradise they had created after so much disgrace, in that lemonade they made with those lemons. Si-eun knew, Soo-ho was sure he did. But Si-eun seemed to have entered a place he couldn't access; maybe he had gone through the portal of that parallel reality and only Soo-ho had remained.

He doubted he could feel any worse than he did now, with his dream cut short so abruptly.

"Soo-ho…" Si-eun began, in that distant, monotone voice he hadn't heard in a while, and Soo-ho knew what he was going to say. “I think you should leave.”

You. You should leave. Soo-ho bit the inside of his cheeks, curled his fingers together, seriously considered slamming his fist on the table. Not even a “I think we're done here” or “you can stay here a little longer if you need to” or anything else that was even remotely empathetic or caring. Soo-ho felt a strange taste on his tongue. Anger. Melancholy. My God, Yeon Si-eun, you're going to kill me.

His heart was beating a thousand kilometers a second, he wanted to scream, tear his hair and scratch the wall with his nails. He wasn't even angry about everything he had done and Si-eun's apparent ungratefulness; he was angry that Si-eun wasn't taking into account that they weren't strangers anymore. He was back to acting in that cold, emotionally calculated way he used to deal with anyone else. But what was worse was that Soo-ho could pick up on his little nuances — because they weren't fucking strangers anymore goddamn it — and he knew it pained him to do that. It was painful for Si-eun to cut that interaction off like that, so why the fuck was he doing that?

Soo-ho was livid, maybe even shaking a little. But then, Si-eun said, loud and clear:

“Thank you.” He looked straight at him with the most sincere eyes Soo-ho had ever seen. That made his angry thoughts pause for a moment. “Thank you, really, for everything. I don't have the means to tell you how grateful I am and I have no idea how I'm going to repay you.”

Soo-ho felt his bottom lip quiver. His breathing was labored. Great, now he wasn't angry anymore. Now he wanted to cry and kick around on the floor like a child. Being in love is very tiring.

Apparently, Si-eun was not ungrateful. He was just trying to be strong for some reason, even though Soo-ho was right there and totally willing to share that weight with him. And for the first time, Soo-ho thought that Si-eun might actually be acting stupid, even though he was trying to be rational. He wanted to say all that, but feared he would lose his mind if he tried to argue. Additionally, his tongue seemed to have melted inside his mouth.

Eventually, Si-eun got bothered by that deadly silence. He was hearing his own breathing and the frantic beating of his heart from his ears, the only thing that indicated that one of them was alive, not just two wax statues sitting awkwardly across from each other.

And then, suddenly, before Si-eun could formulate a response that could continue that hideous farewell, Soo-ho stood up.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked, resting his arms on the top of the chair, looking at him with a frustrated look. His arms flexed mesmerizingly, his thick brows were almost drawn together in a frown, his lips were in a thin line but still visible enough for Si-eun to see the color and imagine the texture. No, of course that's not what I want. I want you to stay here forever. I don't want to go back to the way things were before.

Si-eun didn't realize that he had spent a lot of time staring at him. Soo-ho sighed uncomfortably.

“I need a verbal answer, pup.”

He keeps calling me that. I will die. I died and went to hell.

“Yes.” Si-eun replied as firmly as he could. He immediately felt horrible, like he was going to vomit all over the table and go into cardiac arrest. But he wasn't going to back down; there was no longer any reason to keep Soo-ho there (at least no reason other than his own self-indulgence). He should let him go before he did something stupid, before desperation made him confess feelings he hadn't even thought through yet. It was too soon, he thought, but then again, when would it too late?

Soo-ho sighed again. Tired. Disappointed. Maybe even a little sad. His lightheartedness and morning cheerfulness were gone. Si-eun wondered, not for the first time, if guilt could take on a physical form.

“Well…” Soo-ho clucked his tongue and took the opportunity to snap the fingers of his hands, with bulging veins and scars that he carried with more pride than he should. "I'll get my things."

Si-eun decided not to accompany him. First, because he felt like his legs had turned to jelly and he wouldn't be able to get up for the next five minutes; second, because just thinking about seeing Soo-ho pulling his belongings out of his nest already made him want to take back everything he said and beg him to stay. And when Soo-ho came back, wearing his red and black jacket and motorcycle gloves, with his pink pillow hidden somewhere in his bag and his helmet dangling from his right hand, Si-eun started to regret it a little.

But then, what would they do if Si-eun changed his mind? Would Soo-ho rub his belly even if Si-eun didn't have anymore cramps? Would they spend hours lying in that nest that had already served its purpose and was no longer needed? Would Soo-ho give Si-eun a bath even if he already managed to do it himself? Would Soo-ho cook for him, even with that weekly supply of food in the fridge? Would he miss two extra days of work, hurting his and his grandmother's financial situation? Would they both miss two days of school? Si-eun had already missed a day of cram school. What about the rescheduled mock test? And the amount of things he had to study? What about the things the two of them needed to sort out?

Reality had knocked on the door. Given how serenely Si-eun had woken up, he now felt like he had parachuted into a minefield. But that was all the motivation he needed, because in the next second, he was on his feet, walking towards Soo-ho, who waited for him to come and position himself in front of him. And so:

“The patch on your hand.” Si-eun started, pointing lightly at the package in Soo-ho's hand; Discreet, but very important. “I'll need it.”

At that, Soo-ho arched an eyebrow. There was something he wasn't telling him, he knew that, but now he suspected the omega was up to something. Could it be revenge? Si-eun might be the most adorable creature in the world in his eyes, but even Soo-ho had noticed that the boy had a ravenous spirit, just waiting to be released.

“Why? What will you do?”

Si-eun let out a heavy, impatient breath.

"Let me handle this for you. It's the least I can do.” He said, and it was true. “This has to do with the two of us, after all.”

It seemed like a rather intimate thing to say. Look at us, involved in a massive mess with multiple ethical violations. All because of me, and because of you too.

Still, Soo-ho didn't give him the patch; in fact, he seemed to be holding it even tighter in his left fist.

"I'm the one who beat Young-bin ‘till he turned into paprika powder," He said so casually. “so I should bear the consequences of that.”

Si-eun bit his tongue. It looked like Soo-ho wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine by being stubborn. Well, two can play this game.

“But you only beat Young-bin ‘till he turned into paprika powder because he drugged me.” Si-eun replied. “I'm just as involved as you are.”

“You were the victim, you don't need to explain yourself.”

“There's no one better to testify against a criminal than a victim. You can't leave me out of this.”

“I'm not leaving you out of this, I'm just sparing you more stress.”

“You've already spared me enough.”

“Si-eun-ah!”

“That little alpha commanding voice of yours has no effect on me.” Si-eun lied, hoping his scent wouldn't give him away; after all, he was very good at lying. "Soo-ho, give me the patch, please."

Soo-ho might’ve had no effect on Si-eun, — although he had his suspicions, given his previous symptoms — but to Soo-ho's inconvenience, the opposite was not true: Si-eun had a huge effect on Soo-ho, and his eyes were his main weakness; eyes that were looking at him with a very specific glow, slightly widened as he always had to look up to see him. They were determined, full of will, of fire. And in the face of Si-eun's fire, Soo-ho would always be water.

He handed the package to Si-eun's outstretched hand, displeased. His own scent was scorched like a chimney, and he hadn't smelled that sweet scent he loved so much at any point in the day. But Si-eun sighed in relief, almost content, when he had the sticker in his palm.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He said it with conviction, with force, and with a little excitement. But his eyes, so close to Soo-ho's, were burning with anger. It was bizarre, it was mesmerizing, it was terrifying, and that's why Soo-ho found himself asking:

“You're not going to see Young-bin, are you?”

Si-eun looked at him in a way that tugged at his heartstrings, but not for the right reason. It was a strange look, one that he found somewhat familiar, but he couldn't remember where; a serious, yet almost mischievous look through his lashes. It was as if he didn't have such nice intentions, as if he knew Soo-ho wouldn't be able to stop him.

“I'll talk to the school council and clear your name. That’s all.”

Soo-ho felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. There was something strange. Something wrong.

“If I find out that Young-bin even touched you, I'm gonna kill him.” He said, and it was true. Just thinking about that scumbag getting close to Si-eun again made him want to turn into a wolf and murder everyone in that town.

But then, Si-eun snorted. It was supposed to be a laugh, because he had a crooked smile on his face, not as adorable as the others — plural — he'd seen, but a smile nonetheless.

“What are you? A vigilante?” He let out a few more broken laughs, a pff escaping with such spontaneity that Soo-ho didn't even mind being the butt of a joke. No, he was almost flattered, and it wasn't long before he laughed too, unable to believe what this morning was turning into.

"Better me than you." He snapped. Si-eun sighed.

“That's why I was mad at you in the beginning.” In the beginning, he said. Where were they now? “You have to stop treating me like I'm made of fine china.”

Yeah, Si-eun's heat had really come to an end; because apparently, his omega loved to be pampered and treated like a precious thing. Deep down, maybe Si-eun liked it too. But now, he felt a little suffocated by the strength of Soo-ho's affection. He tried to silence the voice deep in his mind that said it was because he didn't deserve it.

“Well, you know how I feel.” I don't want you to get hurt . "I hope it all works out soon."

Si-eun nodded. Silence returned and served as a cue for Soo-ho to leave.

But he didn't. He stood there, staring at Si-eun with that look full of emotions that defied the intelligence of the smartest boy in Byeoksan. Si-eun almost growled.

“What?” He asked irritably. He wanted to ask "aren’t you leaving?" but feared it was too rude. He didn't know when he started worrying about someone else's feelings.

It was Soo-ho's turn to extend his hand.

“Give me your phone.”

Si-eun stared at his hand, motionless and in complete silence, for what seemed like an eternity.

“What?” He asked again, when he finally awoke. “Why?”

"Just do it. Don’t think too much. Just do it.”

Si-eun mumbled a few things under his breath that Soo-ho couldn't catch, but he handed it over anyway. Soo-ho tried to hold back his trembling hands as he opened the contacts and typed in his number. A few seconds later, with his cell phone in hand again, Si-eun turned his gaze to him with very obvious irritation.

"Soo-ho alpha symbol with a heart?" He asked, reading it in the most robotic voice in the world. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink and a little puffy in his indignation. Cute. His only response was a flirty wink from Soo-ho. The pink turned red very quickly. “You're so fucking cheesy.”

Soo-ho's lips curled into that characteristic discreet smile and he shrugged, as if to say “what can I do?”. Surprisingly, Si-eun felt a little excited to have Soo-ho's number on his completely-devoid-of-contacts cell phone.

“I want you to call me when everything’s dealt with, or if you need my help.” He said. He was apparently calm, but his voice had a tone of concern and anxiety that gave him away. Soo-ho wore his heart on his sleeve. “You're not alone now, you don't have to act like you are.”

Si-eun felt the hand that held the phone tremble; it suddenly became very heavy. He put it in his pocket quickly, his mouth dry. How was he supposed to answer that?

“Oh, and one more thing.”

And then, Soo-ho invaded his space, faster than he could ever react, and hugged him.

It would’ve been just a hug, any kind of hug, if Si-eun's heart hadn't stopped in his chest. He couldn't feel his own breath, or the icy tips of his fingers, or the sweat that trickled down the base of his spine. It would be any kind of hug, just an ordinary hug, if Soo-ho weren't with his lips as close to his sensitive neck as they've ever been. It would be normal if the taller boy's heart wasn't pounding too, if he wasn't enveloping him in all his warmth. And when Soo-ho eventually pulled away from his gland, Si-eun was smelling just like him, covered, cherished, protected.

"Just in case." Soo-ho murmured. But he hadn't let go of Si-eun's hips (when did his hands get there? They were on his shoulder before) and his face was close, getting even closer. When Si-eun realized, Soo-ho's forehead was touching his, their noses touching, their mouths so close. Soo-ho was looking at him as if he wanted to merge himself with him, and to his horror, he didn't object. “You're not as good a liar as you think you are.”

Si-eun's heart started beating again. He let out a wheezing breath. What does he know? How does he know? What is he going to do?

But then, Soo-ho broke away from him. It could have taken ages, but still Si-eun would find it too fast. He felt like an organ had been ripped out of him all at once and without anesthesia. The frigid air in that apartment was cruel against his skin. Suddenly, Soo-ho was opening the door, a familiar sight, and Si-eun could see the light from the hallway illuminating his dimples. He was smiling, a slightly sad smile, and it was cruel indeed.

“Call me. I'll be waiting.”

He didn't even wait to leave the building to put the helmet back on, as if he wanted to hide his face. Si-eun resisted the urge to follow him, but couldn't resist going to the door and watching him disappear down the hall. Soo-ho, before going down the stairs, turned back and waved his arm in farewell. Si-eun raised his hand as well, feeling that it was the least he could do. Soo-ho disappeared from sight a second later, and Si-eun felt his heart break into a thousand pieces of glass again. And he wondered, deep down, if that feeling was what he suspected it was.

He closed the door after long minutes, heard the security system's little noise and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. The ticking of the wall clock was a comforting constant. He could hardly believe he had survived what was possibly the hardest thing he had ever been through; and Soo-ho had a big role in that. But then, did it have to be that hard? Did those pleasant memories of what had gone on inside that apartment have to be tainted by such a violent beginning? Did Soo-ho's hands have to be scarred red and purple? Didn't Si-eun have the right to be a normal boy? Did an omega always have to be the victim?

He felt a bizarre urge to laugh. A sardonic, psychotic laugh that wouldn't be understood without context. He could feel it, that bubbling rage traveling through his veins, lighting his eyes like light bulbs, making his head tingle as if his brain was having an orgasm. Violence indeed generated violence, and Si-eun wasn't so perfect as to turn the other cheek; this was a cycle he couldn't escape, and at this point he doubted he even wanted to. He was only human, after all.

He crumpled the fist that held that patch.

He needed to teach Young-bin a lesson.

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER FIVE — COURTING SEASON

…

When Si-eun showed up in the teacher’s room on that apparently uneventful Monday, Ms. Lee didn’t seem very happy to see him; and, to be fair, he wasn’t pleased to see her either. However, she accepted his request to see Jeon Young-bin at the hospital with way less resistance than he was expecting — and, to his silent contentment, his things were still under the school’s charge. 

As he quickly found out, Young-bin had undergone a small surgery and was only now able to receive visits from people other than his closest family. Si-eun found himself feeling extremely curious whether that surgery had been on the nose or on another affected part of his body, because Soo-ho hadn’t been merciful in his rampage. Still, he refrained from asking, feeling intuitively that he would know soon enough. Things were surprisingly working in his favor, and he wondered if he should test his luck and see if he could get away with murder. 

But Si-eun was surprised, in a rather ironic way, to find Young-bin’s mother in the room, ready to cause a scandal. She seemed like an uptight and tidy woman, the type to comply with all her child’s wishes in detriment of any sort of common sense. Si-eun could clearly see where Young-bin had gotten his disdainful facial features from, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand Young-bin’s prejudice against omegas since his own mother was an omega. 

“What were you trying to do?” She asked him immediately after he approached, maintaining a respectful distance at the foot of Young-bin’s hospital bed. Her face was angry and red as if she had eaten dozens of peppers, and now that Si-eun had thought about it, she did smell of peppers, even if a slight cinnamon smell managed to balance her scent. 

What a naturally angry smell, he noted to himself. It runs in the family.

“Ma’am, please calm down.” Ms. Lee tried to pacify the spirits, but that was all she could ever do: try. She was notoriously bad at managing crisis, and Si-eun wouldn’t forget how easily she just accepted Young-bin’s request to take him to the infirmary. As if he were a mere inconvenience, an object, something to be taken away from sight.

He could feel his own scent getting stale and sour. Let’s get this over with.

“Calm down? Calm down?” The mother’s voice went up an octave, threatening and a little insane. “Do you know how worried I was? We’ve been here for days, his grandmother wouldn’t even meet me in person!” She yelled, making Ms. Lee tremble in her place. “My son had to do a corrective surgery on his knot, for Christ sake!”

Oh, Si-eun thought, there it is.

“Mom!” Young-bin screeched, his jaw set and teeth clenched, looking at his mother with wide eyes as if to say don’t embarrass me. His mother only stared back at him, unable to react. Si-eun felt a strong urge to laugh, but remained as serious as he could. Now if this isn’t just delightfully pathetic. 

Only now did Si-eun pay attention to the room, noticing the heart rate monitor next to Young-bin’s bed, the pins and needles attached to his skin, his vitals carefully documented in those complex devices. He couldn’t help but think that Soo-ho did quite a good job, and he felt avenged.

As if sensing the content of his thoughts, the tidy, arrogant woman turned to face him again. 

“I told you to come with your grandmother, not alone.”

Right. She thinks I’m Soo-ho. That almost sent his thoughts into a spiral, completely out of order. Where was Soo-ho now? Was he at his house? Was he at work? Was he eating well? Ugh, what he wouldn’t give to go back to that morning and freeze himself in time just when Soo-ho’s arms encapsulated him in that warm and soft embrace — which made him realize: I’m still smelling just like him. 

“I’m talking to you!” That annoying, strident voice shook him out of his self-indulgent wonderings. “Where is your grandmother? I want to speak to her. Absolutely nothing came out of our last conversation.”

The woman was looking at him as if he was a dog infected with rabies. Against all his rightful anger, he caught himself thinking that it would be nice to have such a dedicated mother, who got so involved in her child’s life to the point of being shaken with emotion. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw any emotion in his own mother’s face; doubted he had ever seen it at all. 

“I came here to apologize in the name of Ahn Soo-ho.” He stated, although he refused to bow when he said: “I’m sorry.”

Young-bin’s mother blinked, her mouth agape. Si-eun could see the exact moment in which that information processed in her brain, the way the muscles on her middle aged face twisted in yet another fit of rage. 

“Y-You… What? You’re not the one who did this?” She asked, pointing at her son’s malformed and bandaged nose. Her voice was now just a high-pitched shriek, and she turned to face Young-bin as if she knew all of that was his fault to begin with. Si-eun took that as a cue to find the patch inside his bag. “You told me the alpha who did this smelled like pinewood and leather!”

“Does he look like an alpha to you?” Young-bin raised his hands as if she couldn’t see the most obvious truth. Yeon Si-eun is an omega, the sky is blue, it is what it is, moving on.

“He sure smells like an alpha to me.” She wrinkled her nose. And then, her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh my!” Si-eun resisted the extremely big urge to roll his eyes at her scandalized face. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”

The room became eerily quiet. Si-eun turned to the side, sensing Ms. Lee’s stare. She had her palm covering her slightly parted mouth, and she was looking at him as if she, too, had noticed and was dying to say something about it. That made him even more proud to be carrying Soo-ho’s scent around. When he finally found that offending patch, he felt like he had all the right in the world to sound smug:

“Can’t an omega spend his first heat with a nice alpha?” He said, looking at each and every one of them and sensing something in their minds break and mend. If this is what they want to think, let them think. He wasn’t the least bit worried whether or not they thought he had mated with Soo-ho; if he was being honest, the possibility that that might be true, even if in other people’s perceptions, was exciting and alluring — it made him feel a little giddy, a little naughty, and perhaps a tad bit disappointed as well. 

When his audience failed to express any reaction to his humorous — but not-so-humorous — comment, Si-eun showed the patch in the palm of his right hand as if he was offering candy. He tried not to feel giddy when the heart rate monitor started to beep more quickly, tried not to look proud when Young-bin’s eyes turned to him, wide and worried, and when his scent spiked, albeit faint and weak with the weight of his wounds. Si-eun felt powerful, perversely so.

“After all,” He continued, having the mother’s attention. “your son forced me to present in front of the entire class three days ago, in the middle of a mock test.” 

The woman’s face wrinkled in disbelief. “What is that?”

“The thing is…” Ms. Lee started, but her hesitancy told him enough.

“Drugs.” He stated, his tone final, and grave, and mean. 

The silence that followed was one filled with dread. He could almost feel the temperature rising and if he squinted just enough, he would see a small drop of sweat forming on the mother’s forehead. 

But no one — no one in that entire hospital — was as anxious as Young-bin.

“What are you saying, you idiot?” He replied, his petulant pout making him look fussy, disingenuous in his awful attempt to appear innocent. “Do you have proof? Do you have proof that I did it?” 

Si-eun would have scoffed if he had any energy. He was saving his strength for something much more significant. 

“Do you still not understand the situation?” He mumbled, taking Young-bin’s bag off his shoulder, looking at the bedridden alpha with implied disdain in his blank expression. “This is your backpack, isn’t it?”

Si-eun opened it swiftly, throwing all of Young-bin’s belongings on the bed. It was quite mesmerizing, the way the yellowish vial of the heat-inducing drug fell graciously on the hospital sheets like it was the main act of an artistic presentation. Amongst a few slim notebooks and pencil cases, there it was: the proof, intact and unharmed. 

Young-bin’s mother looked horrified, and her son couldn’t save himself this time, meeting her gaze with the look of a child who had pooped in their pants. Si-eun had never felt so satisfied to see such genuine betrayal splattered in someone else’s face; it was as if, for the first time, that woman was realizing that she had done a terrible job at raising her only offspring. And the ones who would suffer the most were her own kind — did you forget your mother is an omega too, Young-bin?

“Ma’am, let’s talk outside, please.” Ms. Lee interfered, sensing the woman’s distress. She could be useful for once, and Si-eun had already stated his conditions; when she guided Young-bin’s mother to the door, he shot her a very pointed glare: you better solve this quickly and quietly. Ms. Lee didn’t reply with anything other than a tired sigh. 

They were both out of the room in an instant. Si-eun supposed that would have been his cue to leave in any other circumstance, or maybe he should wait in the corridors until everything had been sorted out. But his main reason to be there was not of a civilized kind; it was a primal desire, something that made his fists ache and his nose capture metallic smells in the air. 

“What are you still doing here?” Young-bin grumbled, lifeless and defeated. Si-eun turned to look at him — really look at him — and he almost felt pity. Almost. “Didn’t you get what you wanted?”

Oh no, Si-eun wanted to reply. I’m just getting started.

Si-eun approached him slowly, leaving his place at the foot of the bed to the closest he could get to Young-bin’s upper body. He rather enjoyed the way the veins in his forehead popped out in concern, the way he could see the crease in his eyebrows, which probably hurt the bridge of his broken nose. His eyes held fear diluted in round black spheres, bright under the light of the white lamps, illuminating his vulnerability. Si-eun felt powerful, indeed, and he thought he could get used to that feeling. 

“You know…” He started, nonchalantly, eyeing the tremors on Young-bin’s arms. “I had a real hard time dealing with what you did to me. The last few days weren’t easy.” Although they were pleasant, in a way, he refrained from saying. Definitely not because of you. “I would have barely survived had I been alone.” He commented as if talking about the weather, because it was true; gruesome or not, hard or not, the truth was the truth, and Si-eun hated euphemisms. 

Young-bin, on the other hand, was now shaking for completely different reasons other than pain and fear. His scent was finally noticeable again — a rather annoying smell of burning cedar — but Si-eun wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. 

“You had a hard time?” He said slowly through gritted teeth. His eyes were bulging and Si-eun was afraid they would pop out of his head. “You had a hard time?” He repeated, his voice going up an octave much like his mother’s. “I bet it was really hard to take an alpha’s dick up your ass, you fucking-”

In a second, Si-eun’s hand was in his throat, closing right over his scent gland, with the tip of his fingers and the sharp end of his nails dangerously close to the most sensitive flesh of his uncovered body. Young-bin choked audibly, his breath wheezing as the air escaped him, saliva pooling at his mouth, his attempts to speak dying in a hoarse cacophony like a fish out of water — or, better yet, a dog with rabies.

“Careful, now.” Si-eun mumbled. His own voice sounded terrifying to his ears, deep and monotonous, but worryingly so; calculated, evil, cold, and he felt oddly wonderful. “You’re only here because an omega was brave enough to give birth to you. Show me some respect.”

His grip tightened. Young-bin’s face was getting redder by the second. His mouth was opening and closing as if to capture the slightest sample of oxygen, but to no avail. 

“Wolves like you should know when to stop.” Si-eun murmured, the memories of his own pain clouding his mind in a vengeful fog. “You should be less arrogant and put yourself in your place.”

Young-bin tried to shove Si-eun’s arm with both of his hands, but he couldn’t move them properly with the needles connecting the blood in his veins to tubes. The heart monitor was beating loudly, going up high and back down in despair, and Si-eun had the most bizarre thought, the kind that suddenly appears and goes away leaving nothing but disgust behind: it would be so easy to kill him.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time, one very last time.” He touched the tip of his finger over Young-bin’s scent gland, feeling him tremble with terror. “And I say, this is a warning.” He positioned his nails over it like the claws of a wolf. Young-bin tried to scream, but the only thing that came out were choked garbles. “Stop bothering me. Don’t go after me or Ahn Soo-ho ever again. Specially Soo-ho.”

He pushed his index finger, sharply and strongly, to the core of the gland. Young-bin wailed through his strangled vocal cord, horrifying, pained, dying, like a desperate plea. Tears gathered quickly in his eyes and spilled through his red, almost purple face, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. Do you feel like someone is poking you with a knife? Do you feel like your belly button will explode? Do you feel like you’re about to die? 

“If you go after Soo-ho, I will know.” He pressed even harder, adding another sharp nail. The heart rate monitor was getting out of control, and Si-eun could feel that Young-bin was starting to pass out. “If you hurt him, I will know.” He doubled his strength. Something wet pooled in between his fingertips, getting inside the spaces in his nails. Blood. “And if you try anything funny again, I’ll make sure you regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

He put pressure on the scent gland one more time, making a point, his final call. Young-bin’s heart rate was slowing down rather quickly; he was about to faint. Si-eun got closer, close enough so their foreheads were almost touching, and he could see his own reflection in Young-bin’s eyes: maniac, deranged, homicidal, irate. 

“Do I make myself fucking clear?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his own breath failing to reach his lungs. Young-bin managed to nod weakly, and that’s when Si-eun finally released him. 

Young-bin sounded like he had just reached the surface of the ocean when he was able to breathe again. His chest was heaving exaggeratedly as if it hurt him tremendously to fulfill his lungs, and he looked like he was about to vomit. He started to cough soon enough, his hands twitching to soothe his neck, but incapable of reaching it. Si-eun wanted to say that soothing it would be impossible, but decided that he should try and see for himself. He settled for fixing his own problems, so he took a few medical gauzes available in the room and cleaned his blood stained nails with a bit of alcohol. Is this how Soo-ho felt? Is this adrenaline supposed to feel even remotely good? 

When he finished, Young-bin still couldn’t speak. He doubted he would be able to do so for a while. And if there were any cameras around, by any means, Si-eun had all the right to be violent. 

“Have a speedy recovery.” He muttered, the most obvious hint of pettiness in his monotonous tone, and left the room without as much as a glance. He had seen enough, and he honestly wished to never see that boy again. 

In the corridor, Young-bin’s mother seemed resigned. She and Ms. Lee were sitting side by side in an unspoken understanding to let all of that slide. When Si-eun passed through Ms. Lee, he felt compelled to ask, but she told him enough: Ahn Soo-ho would stay in Byeoksan, and Jeon Young-bin would transfer to another school — hopefully far, far away. 

Finally, Si-eun felt like he could breathe — ironically so. His shoulders relaxed, the tense muscles falling into a normal posture, and he could feel his lungs expanding. His hands, however, were shaking stubbornly, burning and tingling as if he was allergic to his own skin. As he walked out of that hospital, he noticed that his steps were heavier than they were when he first entered it, and vaguely wondered if he was really capable of going too far. Perhaps he was no better than those gruesome and animalistic alphas; perhaps they had never evolved from wolves, fighting for survival in the wilderness.

Si-eun was often lost in thought, more often than one would believe; but usually, his thoughts concerned his studies, his future, the university he wanted to enter, the steps he had to take for academic success. Now, they were a messy mix of fruitless wonders, some of which were annoyingly persistent and even a little scary. He wondered if Young-bin would truly comply with his wish, he wondered if Soo-ho was safe and sound; but most of all, he wondered what he would be doing, what he would be feeling at that exact moment had he not let Soo-ho go out that door. 

Walking back to the bus stop, he stopped dead in his tracks. The distant, yet very familiar sound of a motorcycle engine made his legs tremble like leaves in the wind, and he caught himself turning his gaze ferociously to the source of the sound. He looked around, once, twice, turned his head, but couldn’t see anything. 

Had he imagined it? Was he already feeling Soo-ho’s absence like abstinence? But then again, Seoul was filled with motorcycles all the time, it was a big city. Even if there had been a motorcycle, it didn’t mean it was his. 

He took the bus ride home feeling down and contemplative. And when he entered his apartment, the place felt cold and devoid of any comforting smell, the traces of Soo-ho’s touch on his skin fading with each passing minute. 

“But tell me something, Soo-hee-yah,” Wang said to her that afternoon over a cup of tea, his voice wary and distracted as if he was contemplating every letter of the words he was about to say. “do you even know where your grandson is?”

Her hands stopped against her will, frozen while the water of the faucet cascaded through the glass of the plate between her fingers, cleaning all evidence of dirt mixed with soap foam. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips, putting away the dishes with less delicacy than fine china would require. No, I have no idea where Soo-ho is and it’s driving me mad, thank you for asking.

“You know, I’m not questioning your responsibility as a guardian, much less your raising methods. I would never do something like that.” Wang, ever the nervous talker, filled the space of her silence with his ramblings as soon as he sensed the tiniest bit of danger. And for that, Wang had to know her pretty well — they had been friends and neighbors for thirty years, it would be weird if he didn’t —, because her scent was still as neutral as it always was. “It’s just that, well… Soo-ho hasn’t been seen throughout the entire weekend, and the ahjummas are driving me insane.”

“You don’t get to call them ahjummas if you’re the same age as them.” She replied, much more comfortable in that childlike banter of theirs rather than that serious tone. “They can’t be that bad.”

“They’re annoying me, Soo-hee-ya!” He cried, covering his face with both of his hands, dramatic as ever. His watermelon and pineapple scent was light, but she could capture the slightest bit of acidity in them, more so than normal. So he was irritated, indeed. “Don’t you know your grandson is popular? These women are dying to offer their granddaughters to him as if this is the middle ages! That old hag Shin Hui-guem won’t stop pestering me for his whereabouts. I mean, shouldn’t she ask you?”

When she finally turned to face him — her old friend, an omega just like her — she didn’t know what exactly she was supposed to tell him.

“Soo-ho is with a friend.” She answered, decisive. Her shoulders dropped once she realized that that answer was as vague to her as it was to everyone else who didn’t concern her grandson’s life. The neighbors had asked her, and she had replied about a dozen times, but at least they didn’t know about his violent rampage; about her stress; about the calls she had to make to the school, trying to hold down any action from that other kid’s family. And they obviously didn’t know that she had questions of her own — because would Soo-ho go that far for just a friend?

“He’s with a friend?” Wang repeated as if testing the words on his tongue, or maybe as if he didn’t believe in them. “Is that so?”

Well, she thought to herself, cracking a smile against her will; you’re not just any nosy neighbor, Wang, that much is true.

“At the moment, yes, he’s with a friend.” She took a seat at her small kitchen table, facing him with a mischievous little smirk. It had always been like this: she and Wang, gossiping over a cup of tea; and maybe even a cup of coffee, if the conversation escalated. “But I must say, if the ahjummas are willing to offer their granddaughters, I’m afraid Soo-ho will have to refuse.”

Wang covered his mouth with both his hands, gasping in a way that she knew all too well.

“No way!” He exclaimed. That information seemed to be too much, for he grabbed a napkin and cleaned his glasses with utmost dexterity. When he put it back on his face, his eyes seemed bigger than saucers. “Is this friend, perhaps, an omega?”

She laughed out loud. “There’s a reason why you’re my favorite, Wang!” 

“Oh, I knew it!” He yelled, striking the air with his fist as if the country had just won a World Cup game. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Soo-hee, I told you he wouldn’t stay single for long! You’ve raised a good alpha.”

“Don’t get so excited, now.” She mumbled, feeling her spirits mingle all over again. “Things are… Complicated. I’m waiting for him to call me, but I think he’s very occupied. He said he will stay by his friend’s side for five days, but even then, I’m not sure if he will be back home.” She rambled, her gaze distant and a little contemplative. Her grandson was so busy all the time, with school attendance and work hours. She couldn’t help but feel tremendously guilty. “I wonder if I did a good job raising him after all. He’s basically all by himself.” 

Did I give him too much freedom? Did I give him too many responsibilities? Wang shot her a comprehensive smile, barely just a thin line of his lips, but his hand on her shoulder was a much welcome comfort. 

“If he can survive in this harsh world all by himself and still be a good person, then you have raised him well.” 

She sighed, but managed to return his hesitant smile and the touch on his hand.

“Thank you, Wang.” 

They remained in silence for a moment, until Wang’s lips turned into a dangerous smirk, and she knew at that very instant that their conversation was over.

“But he won’t be all by himself for very long now, will he?” He winked, shooting her finger guns, and she didn’t refrain from rolling her eyes this time. “Don’t forget that bet we made! If he shows up with an omega before his twenties, you owe me a thousand won!”

“Wang! You deranged man!” She hit him, making him jump out of his seat. “Get out of my house!” She huffed, wiping a few hair strands from her forehead. “As if I would bet on my grandson’s life.”

“Just admit you made a bet, Soo-hee-ya.” Wang bounced his way to the back door, humming each syllable of her name in that provocative way of his. 

“I didn’t! I never agreed to this!” She pointed at him with her teaspoon as if it were a huge and threatening knife.

“Well…” Wang turned to look at her one last time, his fingers ready to close the wooden door. “We’ll just have to wait for Soo-ho to sort things out.”

The bright afternoon sun eventually went down, and yet another moonlight came through her window without any news from Soo-ho — not a call, not a text, not a mere sight. She supposed she should be used to it already, but that entire chaotic situation left her feeling worried and uneasy, a sense of trepidation growing in the pit of her stomach. What if her little puppy was involved with bad stuff? What if that violent episode hadn’t been just a one time thing? Was that friend of his, which she suspected to be more than a friend, a good influence? Would her child go back to her? 

The sound of keys opening up her front door startled her to the core, the suddenness, the absurdity, the impossibility of it making her numb. She got up abruptly, cursing the vertigo it caused her, and put on her slippers, speeding into the corridor with an energy she hadn’t experienced for fifteen years or so. 

And when she got to the hall, there he was.

“Granny.”

It seemed rather poetic that Soo-ho would come home that very night, dressed in his work clothes with all his motorbike equipment, looking tired and breathless and worn out. And to her surprise, he came straight to her as soon as he saw her, engulfing her in an embrace. His scent was faint and airy, barely noticeable, which worried her immediately. She returned the hug once her brain understood that Soo-ho was finally home, but couldn’t help but grasp his shirt with her fingers in concern, after all:

“Soo-ho, I thought you were going to stay the entire medical leave period with him!” She gasped, although she began to sooth his back with her hands right after, feeling the way his heart was beating loudly. Something’s wrong. “What happened?”

Soo-ho got up to face her, but didn’t leave her embrace. His expression was fatigued and serious, his brows frowning ever so slightly, even if his eyes were gentle when he said:

“Si-eun’s heat ended this morning.” He mumbled. And then, moving away slowly, he sighed. “He didn’t need me anymore. So I came home.”

Without much more of an explanation, Soo-ho headed to his room. Only then did his grandmother realize the way he was dragging his weight through his legs, the way his body seemed heavy and his posture was curved. She followed him on instinct, and he left the door open when he entered his practically uninhabited room, sitting in his bed and groaning like he had been on his feet the entire day and was finally able to rest. She had an inkling that that might not have been too far from the truth, and so she asked in a whisper:

“Soo-ho… Where were you?” 

His eyes, which were closed while he massaged a stiff spot in his shoulder, opened like she had accused him of something. 

“Granny, the school might contact you soon.” He murmured, taking off his shoes, his voice hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in a while. She didn’t appreciate the way her question flew completely over his head, not worthy enough to be answered. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think everything is sorted out.”

His grandmother was finding it harder and harder to control her worried scent. Her hands twisted in one another, over her chest, an anxious plea. Why is he acting so weird? 

“Soo-ho,” She repeated, careful and slow, to indicate that he should listen. He stopped fumbling with his clothes and looked at her, straight in the eyes. “what do you mean by that? Where were you? And why do you look so tired?”

Because I spent the day on that stupid fucking motorcycle, driving around and waiting, waiting for Yeon Si-eun to show up unharmed. Because I wanted to see what he would do with that patch, because I wanted to make sure he would be okay. Because if something happened to him I would literally go insane.

Soo-ho wasn’t proud of what he did. He wasn’t proud of the way he had a very good idea of what had happened in that hospital room; he wasn’t proud of following Si-eun’s every step without him knowing about it, like a goddamn stalker. 

But he couldn’t help it. Now that he knew that Si-eun was safe and sound, he felt like he could finally rest, could finally breathe. All the tiredness he felt came back full force, and all he could think about was sleeping in an actual bed. He would much rather sleep in Si-eun’s nest, but that was now just a memory he could indulge in for a while. To his delight, some of his sweet scent still lingered in his gloves, his windbreaker and in his pink pillow. That was all he could do now: settle for samples.

But his blissful memories were harshly ended by a hand twisting his left ear.

“Ow! Ow, granny, I-”

“I asked you a question, boy! Won’t you answer me?” 

“Sorry granny, I’m sorry, I- Can you please leave it?”

She huffed, but let go of his ear, now red and aching. He rubbed at it with his open palm, feeling it warm. Seeing his grandmother’s impatient expression, he sighed and decided to tell at least part of the truth.

“I was with Si-eun at the hospital. We made sure to show the proof of what Young-bin did.” His grandmother’s eyes widened, her eyebrows going up to her hairline. She was probably not expecting him to be so direct. “I’m just worn out because it has been an eventful day. That’s all.”

His grandmother released her arms, wrapped around her waist in a demanding gesture. She approached her grandson’s bed, sitting on it and breathing deeply, assimilating everything.

“Well…” She murmured, and couldn’t help but notice how words were failing her recently. “Couldn’t you have just told me this from the beginning?”

Soo-ho smiled tiredly. He felt a little bad for lying to her, but that was the best he could do at that moment to avoid more trouble. And when she extended her arms to him again, letting him fall into her embrace, he realized that it was good, great to be home. 

“My puppy…” She whispered, cradling his face into her shoulder, caressing his strands and the side of his face. He inhaled the soothing scent of roses and cotton greedily, closing his eyes, feeling himself melt in fatigue mixed with relaxation. If he was an omega, he would’ve probably purred. “I miss you a lot, you know? You should come by more often, even if it’s just to grab lunch.”

With her honest request, his eyes opened with the reminder of a not so pleasant fact. “After all of this, I’ll probably not achieve perfect attendance.”

His grandmother continued to soothe him, petting him like a cat. It felt good to be on the receiving end of that act, and he wondered if he would have the opportunity to exchange caresses with Si-eun again. The longing he felt was so strong it was practically a living thing, pulsing along with his heart, attached to his body like a parasite. 

“It’s fine.” His grandmother’s gentle voice shook him out of his intense thoughts. “As long as you graduate happy and healthy, it doesn’t really matter. It wouldn’t be fair to me to demand from you more than you already do.” She kissed his forehead, and Soo-ho felt the strangest urge to cry. He hadn’t felt that way since he was seven. “I’m proud of you, puppy, remember that.”

He breathed slowly through his nose, exhaling carefully, blinking away the ardor in his eyes. 

“T-Thanks halmeoni.” He whispered.

“Now, I know it’s a little late…” She started, disentangling herself from Soo-ho slowly. “But would you like some ox bone soup?” 

Soo-ho brightened. “You know I’m always craving it.” 

His grandmother smiled, getting up with renewed energy.

“Alright, stay right here, I’ll go and make it, it won’t be long!” She exited the room with excitement, and Soo-ho could hear her mumbling at a distance, something along the lines of my grandson and home and not often. 

He allowed himself to lie down, resting his head on his pillow, which was way softer than he remembered. His eyes closed involuntarily, heavy and burning. He breathed in deeply, thinking he must have imagined the sweet coffee chocolate smell that graced his nostrils; then there was the beautiful shape of a doe eye, closing with the slightest touch of his finger to a soft cheek; the weight of a body next to him, smaller and comforting, hugging him with firm hands and a head resting heavy on his shoulder; the smell of almond body scrub, the sound of kitchen utensils, a love song on the radio. It all lulled him to a peaceful slumber; those memories, those longings — he longed for Si-eun, missed him like the stars miss the moon when the sun is high in the sky. So soon already.

When his grandmother came back with the bowl of soup, Soo-ho was fast asleep, passed out and exhausted on his bed, his mouth open and his features relaxed. Her excitement had died as soon as she caught sight of him, but her expression softened soon enough. She didn’t have the heart to wake him, so she just placed the food on the counter, hoping the strong smell would do its duty eventually. She got closer, playing with the straight black hair of his fringe. She had one handsome young man under her wings, but it wouldn’t be fair on her part to expect him to stay there forever. 

“Aigoo…” She murmured to herself, caressing his face one last time. “Sweet dreams, my little hero.”

She went out the door and turned off the lights.  

Every night, without exception, Si-eun would look at his phone screen and stare at Soo-ho’s number, feeling like the most pathetic person that had ever walked the Earth. 

He hadn’t seen the boy ever since he left his apartment on Monday morning, but he remembered clearly every second of that last interaction; remembering was the only way to keep him sane, to make him fall asleep, to help him go through his day. To make matters worse, Soo-ho wasn’t showing up to class lately, and Si-eun couldn’t help but feel worried deep inside. Did something happen with his grandma? Did something happen at work? Or, perhaps, was he avoiding Si-eun at all costs?

But then again, the last thing he had said to Si-eun was to give him a call. And Si-eun still hadn't called. 

Soo-ho’s decorated contact name would stare back at him, almost as if challenging him to click on the call button; as if daring him to be the first to keep in touch, to seek Soo-ho’s comfort again, selfish as he was. He had tried to send him a text, but his hands would tremble every time and he could never get past the second word; and when he did get to write a coherent message, he always ended up deleting it, afraid he sounded too needy, or too detached, or too desperate, or too demanding, or too whatever.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Soo-ho was feeling his absence as much as he was, and with so much vigor. And given that he was the one with Soo-ho’s number and not the other way around, he was the one acting like a complete asshole. Had Soo-ho been waiting for his call all this time? How many days had passed? Three? Five?

It was Wednesday night when he heard it again. He was heading back to his apartment from cram school, tired and mellow, but he was feeling oddly excited to reach home, for he had decided he would finally call Soo-ho that night. Even if his fingers trembled and his cellphone slipped through his sweaty hands a thousand times, he would say something, because he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t keep on going like this, away from Soo-ho as if they had never been so close that their scents mingled and their legs intertwined and their breaths synchronized. 

And on that Wednesday night, he finally heard it again: the motorcycle engine, and a very loud and insistent horn. 

His heart nearly burst all of his chest when he looked through the bus window. The guy he had been thinking about nonstop for days was just casually waving his hand at him, in the middle of the street, with his red helmet and windbreaker — a blue one this time! —, looking far too full of energy for a week night. And Si-eun was quickly finding out that he couldn’t refuse him, for he was pushing the window open without a second thought, before he barely even registered what was happening. Soo-ho, at last. At fucking last. 

“Hey, what are you doing there?” He asked, his voice carrying a mischievous tone, one that he hoped only his ears could hear. Si-eun felt the weirdest emotion take hold of him when he realized that he had missed his voice so much more than he thought he did. And then, Soo-ho said something even weirder:

“Maybe we were a married couple in our past lives.”

Is he flirting with me? Si-eun blinked, unable to form any cohesive thoughts that could possibly respond to that. Soo-ho didn’t look like he was flirting, swinging his hands between the two of them as if he was trying to be cool. Was it even possible to look flirty while sitting in a delivery motorbike? 

“Where are you off to?” Soo-ho asked him, and Si-eun spent a good five seconds just regaining consciousness enough to say, very weakly:

“Me? Home.”

Soo-ho squinted his eyes a little and moved forward towards his window. “What?”

Si-eun gulped, looking around to see if anyone was taking notice of that weird encounter. The bus was conveniently vacant, except for about five or six people including him, so he gave himself the freedom to come closer to the glass and reply:

“Home.”

“From cram school?”

“Yes.”

Soo-ho nodded briefly, resting his hands on the handlebars, still looking at him with that carefree smile as if he wanted to say something else. Still, he didn’t say anything, but Si-eun wasn’t ready to let him go. He didn’t have much time, just enough until the traffic sign turned green, and that was an opportunity he couldn’t waste. There you are, showing up to me out of the blue again, like some sort of guardian angel, like fate. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurted, determined not to be a coward this time. Soo-ho’s hands twitched on the handlebars, and he sat up straight.

“That’s sudden…” He said, a little surprised and almost sheepish. “For what?”

Si-eun averted his gaze as if there was any way out, as if he could assess the situation in a manner that didn’t make him look so guilty. But then again, he didn’t have much time. He had to be honest.

“For not calling you.” He admitted, loud and clear. It wasn’t nearly as hard as he had thought it was, and when Soo-ho looked forward with the smallest glimpse of a smile, he could feel his wolf cheering, giddy and happy. 

“If you’re sorry, treat me to a meal sometime.” Soo-ho answered, getting ready to leave, the accelerating noise of the bike and the repetitive shift of his hand making him look so effortlessly cool. “I’ll be going, see you tomorrow.” And just like that, he threw him a finger heart, disappearing into the night carrying his deliveries, unaware of the turmoil he had caused in Si-eun’s body and soul. 

Tomorrow? That word had never sounded so appealing. Soo-ho is going back to school tomorrow. He truly couldn’t wait to go home, lie down in his bed — in the sheets he had refused to clean ever since Soo-ho had slept in them —, inhale the remains of pinewood and leather that were left and sleep, so he could meet up with him sooner. It was pathetic, it was pitiful, but Si-eun didn’t care. He didn’t care, because he couldn’t stand that distance any longer, couldn’t stay away from him for long, and he had never looked so forward to a tomorrow before. 

In retrospect, Seok-dae wasn’t the least bit surprised to visit his cousin at a hospital.

It would happen sooner or later, he told himself, well aware of Young-bin’s perverse nature. Ever since he was a little kid, the boy would destroy his toys, throw tantrums, push other kids around until they were under his control. He had always felt a sick pleasure in watching others suffer; it was his favorite pastime, his hobby, his personal passion, the reason for his eyes to shine brightly. It was only a matter of time before someone retaliated, before he got a taste of his own medicine. Seok-dae was way past the point of being worried and he was way past the point of being angry either; but Young-bin had called him and, more than anything, he just wanted to know why.

Word spread around very quickly, and Seok-dae was aware of very awful details; details he honestly wished he didn’t know. The kicks, the punches, the blood. And the kid — the omega, who had to endure what was probably the most traumatic presenting experience one could possibly have. All because of his vicious cousin.

Even if he would rather be anywhere else, pretending that he didn’t have anything to do with Young-bin’s broken nose and twisted knot, that was something that he couldn’t ignore; something particularly more serious than a sadistic wish to see a classmate cry. It was bizarre and, if Seok-dae was being frank, quite scary. He wanted to know the reasoning behind that calculated wickedness, wanted to know what he could possibly want from him; would revenge even work at this point? Should Seok-dae leave and pretend he hadn’t even received that call in the first place? 

As he approached Young-bin’s room, he tried his best to keep his scent as neutral as possible, for he could feel his own eyes watering with the acid mix of peppermint and lemon, sour and bothered and worried and… Who was he kidding? He was angry.

The door slid abruptly, opening and closing in a violent swing. Seok-dae stood there for a few seconds, staring at his cousin with a mix of disgust and disappointment, all wrapped up in that dark plastic bag he had brought not entirely against his will. Young-bin had the decency to look startled, cornered, as if he owned Seok-dae money and was about to be beaten to a pulp — well, that had happened already.

“I told you not to act up.” He mumbled, throwing the bag on the boy’s lap. Young-bin had never looked so crestfallen. Even if he had recovered well enough to be out of intravenous supplies, Seok-dae noticed the way he kept rubbing the right side of his neck over his scent-gland, which was covered with a huge band aid. He wanted to ask what that was all about, but refrained, settling for a passive aggressive attempt at humor. “Get your nose done while you’re here.” 

Young-bin sighed before pulling the plastic bag closer, albeit with extremely low energy. “What is this?”

There, piled together almost mockingly, were about three jars of paprika. Young-bin’s neurons seemed to have stopped working, his forehead creasing and his eyes widening a little. Meanwhile, Seok-dae didn't even pretend to care about the hospital rules. He sat down in the armchair adjacent to Young-bin’s bed and lit up a cigarette, trying to portray indifference amidst his complex feelings about that entire situation. 

“I've heard that being around something that smells like you helps with physical pain.” He stated as if speaking to himself. “Maybe even consume it, if it’s something edible.”

Young-bin let out an annoyed puff. He rubbed at his scent gland again, hissing. 

“And what am I supposed to do with paprika powder? Eat it raw?”

Seok-dae let out a mocking laugh such that cigarette smoke came out of his nostrils. Young-bin would always be surprised, and a little indignant, that his motherfucking cousin didn't smell like nicotine. 

“It's your own fault for not having a more concrete scent, like, I don't know…” He shook his hand back and forth in a vague gesture. The smoke formed little circular drawings in the air. “Oranges.”

Oranges made him think of Beom-seok, and thinking of Beom-seok made him think of Yeon Si-eun. Young-bin frowned so hard that the bandaged bone in his nose hurt. He resisted the urge to scream and bite his own fist. He still felt painful stabs in his belly every now and then, still lingering from the way Si-eun had pierced his nails into the most delicate part of his skin, of any wolf’s body for that matter. He wanted to commit arson, atrocities never known to mankind. 

Before he could engage in any more disturbing thoughts though, Seok-dae was speaking again, seemingly contemplative in the company of his faithful drug wrap.

“I can't believe you messed with a mated omega” He murmured, taking a long, deep drag out of his cigarette as if it had the answers to all his problems. The smoke almost covered his entire face when he let it out. “Don't you know alphas go insane when you mess with their omegas?” 

“Pff, he's not mated.” Young-bin answered immediately, and hated how falsely nonchalant he sounded. He remembered Yeon Si-eun from earlier that week, smelling exactly like Ahn Soo-ho and looking so disgustingly proud of it. It made him feel sick to the stomach. “Mating under the age of eighteen is against the law, you son of a bitch.”

“Are you stupid?” For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Seok-dae turned to look at Young-bin deep in his eyes. “Genuine question.”

Seok-dae had never cared much for the law, given his job. And, granted, it was kind of a stupid law; it had been a foolish attempt from the government to avoid a demographic explosion in the past, but it was also to assimilate the act of mating with maturity, much like driving a car or drinking alcohol. However, the plan backfired spectacularly, and it still did very often; he had already met people who had mated before they were eighteen, usually low-income people, who inevitably ended up with a fractured relationship, a few puppies before their time, and inconsistent jobs. 

Nothing too serious usually happened; they got fined and looked down on by society, but that was it. A mating bite wasn't like a marriage; it wasn't something that needed the testimony of others or of the state — it was personal, invasive, possessive, and there was nothing more attractive to teenagers than that. Seok-dae wasn't that old, but he was old enough to understand instincts, human and wolfish alike.

“The perfect period for courting is right after presenting. Everyone is just one step away from becoming of age, just waiting. Hormones are at their peak; it’s at these times that the alphas go after the omegas to show themselves as possible partners for the mating that comes later. And if this boy is the only omega in the entire school, you can be sure that he is being closely watched and is going to receive several proposals soon. Trust me, he’s popular.” 

Young-bin’s face wrinkled against all odds, the pain in his still very scarred nose almost a comfort. And to his horror, Seok-dae went on, as if in a trance.

“If this alpha went to all the trouble of getting his hands bloody and wasting five days to be with this omega, then, to him, they're already mates. He may not know it consciously, but his wolf knows.”

Suddenly, something in Young-bin’s head clicked. It was the same feeling he got when he found the correct answer to a math question, the puzzle pieces coming together perfectly. 

“How didn't I notice this before? That son of a bitch Ahn Soo-ho is courting Yeon Si-eun. Or at least trying to.” He muttered to himself, feeling like Archimedes in the bathtub. Eureka! “That bastard. He plays the hero, but in the end, he's all about sex like the rest of us.” Hell, they probably fucked throughout the entire weekend. That thought made him nauseous.

“Speak for yourself.” Seok-dae grumbled, already looking tired. “All I want is to get rich. Sex is overrated.”

“That’s sad.” Young-bin snickered.

“You can’t tell me what’s sad or not. That boy presented as an omega because of you and yet he went into heat with another alpha, the alpha who beat you and your friends up and left you in the hospital, hurt enough to have minor corrective surgery on your knot.”

Fuck you, Seok-dae. Young-bin rolled his eyes. You smell like a fucking beta.

“What are you getting at?” Young-bin scratched at his covered neck. His scent gland was hurting. 

“I ask you.” Seok-dae came to sit on the edge of the seat, leaving his laid back position for good, all traces of relaxation gone from his face. He was worried, and he smelled sour and dreadful. “What did you want to do to that omega?”

They welcomed a deep, tense silence, which lasted for about a quarter a minute. The clock on the wall moved its pointers in a loud melody, one that only exacerbated the lack of any other noise, haunting like a deadly whisper. And then, Young-bin breathed in deeply:

“You know what I wanted to do, you gave me the heat-inducing drug.” Young-bin answered, slowly and carefully, sounding smaller than ever, although far from guilty. “The name is self-explanatory. I just wanted to have fun.”

Seok-dae crumpled the hand that held his cigarette into a fist, the burning ashes staining his skin and falling like dirt in the white hospital ground. 

“You asked me what were the effects of that drug on alphas and then asked me for the drug, you devil spawn” He answered, his voice low and breathy. He couldn’t believe him. “I figured you wanted to mess with an alpha in your class, not rape an omega. That’s low, even for you.”

Young-bin rolled his eyes, scoffing. The bastard had the audacity to scoff. 

“I wasn’t going to rape him, I was just-”

“What?” Seok-dae cut him out, feeling his legs shaking. He got up from the armchair, unable to pretend that he wasn’t fucking terrified by the prospect of sharing blood with a sociopath. “Did you think he was going to mate with the first alpha who showed up? That’s not how it works.” He looked Young-bin in the eye, his frown permanent. “An omega has to be minimally attracted to an alpha to mate with them. In some cases, if they’re uncomfortable or disgusted enough, they might even stop producing slick.”

“You seem very well-versed in this subject.” Young-bin mumbled, his already spiteful features turning bitter with disgust. “Listen, I didn’t call you here to mock me or give me a lecture.”

It was Seok-dae’s time to scoff. “And what did you call me here for?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, otherwise, you wouldn’t have come anyways.” Young-bin turned to the right, wincing with the strain in his neck. He turned to the window as if to ask for a sign from the heavens. Seok-dae, on the other hand, felt oddly comforted by seeing him in pain. “I want to fight back. I want to ruin Yeon Si-eun’s life. I want to crush his soul.”

“The omega?” Seok-dae asked, a little astonished. “Why do you want to destroy the omega’s life and not the alpha’s? He was the one who did that to you.” And frankly, you deserved it.

“If I mess with Yeon Si-eun, I automatically mess with Ahn Soo-ho, if what you said is true.” Young-bin returned to look at Seok-dae’s direction, but he seemed a little off; a little out of his mind, a bit deranged. “I'll kill two birds with one stone.”

Seok-dae sighed. The deepest, most tired, most regretful sigh of his life. 

“Dude… you’re gonna die.” And if you die, well… You had it coming. 

“I’m not gonna die. Because you’re going to help me.”

Seok-dae stood there in silence for a few seconds. Isn’t that what you wanted? He asked himself. To see what he was up to?

“Oh really?” Seok-dae’s eyebrows lifted with interest after he came to a conclusion. If there was anyone who could get a grip over Young-bin’s murderous intentions, it was him. Plus, he needed the money. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“How much do you want?”

“Damn it, are you loaded?” Seok-dae let out a wheezing breath. “I wish I were born rich.” He shook his head. Time to call the shots. “You're just going to beat him up, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” 

“Nothing more than that, you hear me?”

“Yes, just a few broken bones, maybe he’ll vomit blood”

“You’re sick”

“How much do you want?” 

“Help me, hyung.” Seok-dae leaned over the edge of the bed, eyeing his cousin up close. He wouldn’t settle just for money when he could have a little bit of humiliation as well. “Come on, say it”

When Young-bin looked at him, truly looked at him, perhaps for the first time ever, Seok-dae noticed that he had an evil glint in his eyes, which seemed to reflect his very soul; they were devoid of any sympathy, of any forgiveness, of any good wish. And Seok-dae knew, too, that they were genuine.

“Help me…” He murmured. “Hyung.”

Seok-dae squinted his eyes, his eyebrows creasing as he took in the sight in front of him. His help wouldn’t be cheap, but he had a feeling the consequences wouldn’t be either. He was to blame for what happened too, and the least he could do was to put an end to that story, even if it was a violent one. Violence was, still, what he knew best. 

When tomorrow finally came, Si-eun tried to remain as steady as possible. The clock was moving annoyingly slowly that particular day, and lunchtime seemed to never come through. But when it did come around, Si-eun found himself feeling a little lost. 

He waited for most of the class to get dispersed, seeing if Soo-ho would wake up. He was delighted to find him first thing in the morning when he got to school, sleeping in his makeshift bed with his faithful pink pillow. Even if he was dying to speak to him, to touch him and smell his scent from up close, he couldn’t find it in him the courage to wake him, feeling that he must’ve been very tired, as he often was. 

So he waited patiently for the right time, hating that the best he could do was to poke Soo-ho’s shoulder repeatedly until he roused in a jump, startled. Si-eun almost winced, but settled for looking at his face with utmost determination — even if his expression remained as bored as always. And if that wasn’t unfair enough, Soo-ho wasn’t making it any easier for him, looking impossibly adorable with the way he kept blinking the sleep away from his eyes, pouting involuntarily as he waited for Si-eun to speak. 

“It’s lunchtime.” Si-eun murmured after what seemed like hours of relentless staring. Could you sound more uninterested? Who are you trying to fool? Your heart is beating faster than the speed of light.

“And…?” Soo-ho asked. Si-eun could tell he wasn’t trying to be mean, even if he looked a little pissed off. The fact that Soo-ho got grumpy when woken up forcefully shouldn’t be as dear to Si-eun as it was. 

“You wanted me to buy a meal.” Si-eun continued, seeing the boy’s resistance to get up. Soo-ho finally opened both of his eyes, straightening up his posture. And then, to Si-eun’s surprise, he cracked a smile, amused and flirty and joyful, making Si-eun feel like he was about to pass out.

“Wa! Are you taking me to a fancy restaurant?” Soo-ho rested his back on the sliding door, looking at Si-eun like he was up to mischief. “I thought it was the alpha’s job to court the omega, not the contrary.”

Si-eun swallowed, feeling his cheeks warm. Why the hell am I even trying, I should leave. He was surely pink like a peach now, and he thought he couldn’t get anymore pathetic. He should stop flirting with me like that.

“I was just going to the cafeteria.” He said, happy that he hadn’t stuttered at least, desperate to change the subject. But to his horror, Soo-ho’s smile didn’t fade. In fact, he was even laughing now; and if Si-eun didn’t know any better, he’d say he was mocking him.

“Ya, the cafeteria? Really?” He shook his head, little tsk sounds illustrating his playful disappointment. “I wasn’t asking for something big, but I pay for school food, you see.”

“Don’t eat it if you don’t want to.” The words flew out of Si-eun’s mouth before he could even comprehend them, and he was walking through the door the next second, running away from the cause of the bubbles in his stomach reflexively. He felt like a child doing so, but he shouldn’t be that surprised; Soo-ho often destabilized him, making him act like he had never acted before. 

“But I want to!” He heard Soo-ho’s distant voice. Si-eun turned around just to catch him speeding towards him, reaching him in an instant. “I want to.” He repeated, and Si-eun couldn’t help but feel relieved, his omega extremely happy to finally have Soo-ho so close again. He resisted the desire to inhale his scent deeply, aware that he shouldn’t be feeling something so intense. So he just nodded, hoping Soo-ho wouldn’t notice his trembling steps. 

“Alright, let’s go!” The alpha’s cheerful voice pushed him further, and they kept walking side by side. 

But as they advanced through the corridors, Si-eun could feel them. The stares. 

He figured he should be used to them already, but as he was quickly finding out, he didn’t like attention all that much. Ever since he officially returned to school two days ago on a Tuesday morning, the eyes on him hadn’t been subtle. He supposed that being the only omega in the entire school came with a price, one that he had no choice but to pay; still, it was bordering on indecent, the way most people’s eyes would linger on him from more time than necessary. It felt like a violation of space, and Si-eun wasn’t used to attention, couldn’t get used to it at all.

Soo-ho, on the other hand, couldn’t say the same. Not to sound boastful, but he was used to people looking at him quite frequently, whether because he stood out in P.E class, whether because of his fighting skills or even his physical appearance. 

He was used to people staring at him, but never once had people looked at him like that, or rather, at them: like they were bizarre animals who had just escaped their zoo cages, wandering around ready to attack; like they were the main act of a freak show.

Soo-ho felt the strongest urge to put his hand on the small of Si-eun’s back and snarl at those cowardly alphas who kept looking at them from the corners of their classroom doors. He could feel the omega’s distressed scent right by his side; long gone was the neutral smell of books. He was like a little burnt chocolate bar, anxious and irritated. 

And so, Soo-ho decided to give in to his instincts for once. If they’re already staring, then let’s give them all the more reason to stare.

He caught Si-eun’s hand in his, feeling the boy shiver with the sudden touch. His skin was a little cold in contrast with his own, but Soo-ho wouldn’t mind keeping him warm whenever he so wished. There was nothing that made him happier than making Si-eun happy too.

“Relax.” Soo-ho said to him, holding the smaller boy’s starry-eyed gaze like a gift. “Everything’s fine.” He said with confident certainty, calming pheromones wafting off him directly to Si-eun. The omega didn’t respond, but he seemed to calm down and didn’t make the smallest effort to take his hand off of his — because Soo-ho was there, and he was holding his hand, so everyone else didn’t matter. Soo-ho pulled him forward, trying to bite back a smile, failing miserably.

Soo-ho figured he should let go of his hand once they got to the cafeteria, but he was enjoying that contact way too much. He had missed being close to Si-eun those last few days, and now that he had the omega’s soft hands on his again, he wasn’t letting him go unless absolutely necessary. He was feeling quite powerful while crossing that cafeteria with Si-eun right by his side, and not to sound like a romcom guy — far from it, actually — but he could swear that they were both walking in slow motion to the lunch line, Si-eun’s hair swaying with the wind, and the sunlight illuminating his features in the most artistic way-

“This line is gigantic.” He heard Si-eun complaining, his cute pout making Soo-ho’s brain short circuit. When he finally got out of his trance, he realized that the line was indeed enormous; but worse than that was the fact that the stares were still pretty insistent — and along with them, whispers.

Against his better judgment, Soo-ho was starting to feel angry. He knew that what he did to Young-bin had been recorded, even if he hadn’t had the time to see any videos of it before they were taken out. He knew that he had caused a scandal and hadn’t been seen since then, when he proclaimed to everyone that he was taking Si-eun — a very recently presented omega — home. He knew he had given reason for people to talk and to fear, for people to make assumptions about him and his intentions regarding Si-eun. He knew, he knew all of that pretty well, but he couldn’t help but feel that maybe none of that really mattered.

Because he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that those boys were all watching Si-eun.

He didn’t mind not being the center of attention, that wasn’t a matter of pride or vanity. However, he couldn’t help the sour taste in his mouth to think about those thirsty alphas — and even betas — trying to take a whiff of Si-eun’s scent at every opportunity. And suddenly, the stares were way harder to ignore, bothering him like never before.

The worst part though, is that he couldn’t even blame them, at least not completely: Si-eun was beautiful. It seemed a bit unfair that they were only starting to realize it now; he had always been delightful to look at — not that Soo-ho looked at him all that much, no, of course not — but now that he wasn’t a wolf pup anymore, fully presented, he looked gorgeous. The brightness of his perfectly shaped eyes, his soft dark brown hair that fell graciously on his forehead, his pouty and full lips, his smaller body who looked so cozy embraced by that warm gray jacket. He looked so huggable, so fluffy, so soft, so edible. 

Soo-ho touched his temple, feeling a headache starting to form. That burning rage he was feeling couldn’t be a good sign. The hand that was still attached to Si-eun’s tightened, as if to prove a point. Couldn’t they see that it was he who was holding his hand? Didn’t they remember what he had done just to protect Si-eun’s honor? Couldn’t they realize that he would do it again in a heartbeat? Even after days of unthinkable consequences, he still didn’t regret a thing. Couldn’t they see the obvious?

“Are you okay?” Si-eun called him, his voice concerned. When Soo-ho turned to his right, he had to look down a little bit to catch the other boy’s eyes. That difference in height always made him dizzy. “You’re… You’re holding my hand really tight.”

“Oh!” Soo-ho, in his desperation, let go of his hand completely. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling too embarrassed to take Si-eun’s hand again. “Sorry. My bad.”

Si-eun felt like pouting in the most petulant way possible. He didn’t mean he had to let go of his hand for good! And now his skin was tingling and burning, feeling Soo-ho’s absence like phantom limb pain. 

Before he could find the courage to voice his complaints though, the line moved, and it kept moving pretty quickly until they got their trays. Si-eun figured he shouldn’t wallow in self-pity now that he had Soo-ho’s company all to himself, and they would have to let go of each other’s hands eventually, even if he hoped it didn’t have to be so soon. 

They found a table in the center of the cafeteria, to his inconvenience. But the insistent looks seemed to take a valid break during lunch time; the groups were entertained in their tables, being noisy and talkative and loud as ever. Si-eun felt like he could finally exhale when he couldn’t sense those eyes on him — on them — anymore. And soon enough, they were eating too.

“Thanks for the food.” Soo-ho said enthusiastically before taking a huge bite of an equally huge spoon of rice. He was smiling while doing so, the dimples in the corner of his lips appearing ever so slightly, and Si-eun felt his stomach churn for reasons other than hunger. Soo-ho always ate with so much fervor, so much passion and vitality for something so common and essential. And ever since Si-eun had tasted his food, made with the same loving effort, he felt like he had access to a part of Soo-ho that no one else did; that they shared an understanding for one another, something vital and good.

“I’m still eating the food you made me.” He caught himself saying, barely catching his breath. Soo-ho seemed confused for a few seconds, until his eyes brightened in recognition. “It’s nice to eat something other than raw instant noodles for dinner.”

Soo-ho swallowed his food quickly, even if he didn’t know what he should say. There was that strange emotion again, making a home in his heart, warm like sticky honey. Love, you’re in love, you idiot.

“T-That makes me glad.” Soo-ho muttered, playing with the food with his chopsticks. He supposed he should say something else, but his brain was still calculating a response that wasn’t to throw himself at Si-eun and ask him in marriage in front of the entire school. Now wouldn’t that be a nice reason for staring?

“By the way…” Si-eun continued, albeit a little hesitant. He couldn’t get used to the way he talked so easily next to Soo-ho. “Why haven’t you been showing up to class lately?”

Soo-ho, who had stuffed his mouth with food to avoid saying something stupid at some point, didn’t wait to answer him.

“I was working at the restaurant.” He mumbled, the food making communication a bit harder, but Si-eun managed to understand everything and still find Soo-ho endearing. Unbelievable. “My boss wasn’t expecting me to come earlier, but she was needing some help. I figured that since I lost my chances of getting an attendance award, I might’ve as well skip a few days.” I was also trying to distract myself from the fact that you hadn’t called and probably didn’t want my company until I couldn’t stand the distance anymore. Yeah, that’s more like it.

Si-eun’s face fell into a downcast expression. He wilted like a flower in the winter, and Soo-ho was all too familiar with his mood changes. But he wasn’t in heat anymore, and so that had to have a very specific reason.

“You…” Si-eun started, stumbling with his words. “You were aiming for an attendance award?”

He sounded so heartbroken, his voice small and timid like Soo-ho had never heard before — or perhaps he did, when Si-eun asked something that he wasn’t sure he should be asking in the first place, like “can you come back to bed with me?” or “can you scent me?”. Soo-ho’s lungs suddenly felt compressed.

“Yeah, I was… What’s wrong?” His hands twitched to hold his, the image of the omega looking so down making him weak in the knees. Only then did he realize that he had never told him that, but then again, why did that matter?

“It’s just that, um…” Si-eun sighed. How didn’t he notice it before? Soo-ho’s exhausting work hours and then sleeping at school. No one would submit to such discomfort for nothing; it made sense that Soo-ho wanted perfect attendance score in his school resume, so why hadn’t he mentioned it to Ms. Lee? Why hadn’t he thought of it? He thought he was smart. “When I asked for Ms. Lee to keep you in Byeoksan, I didn’t think to mention your attendance. Since I had the proof of what Young-bin did, I think she would’ve complied with my wishes and would probably consider your days of absence.” Si-eun muttered, feeling all his giddiness from before vanish. Now he could only feel defeat and an annoying sense of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Soo-ho let go of his chopsticks, feeling all the food in his stomach turn to acid. He took a deep breath and took both of Si-eun’s hands in his, massaging his open palms, reveling in the feeling of their skins in contact again. He couldn’t believe it; he couldn’t believe in Si-eun’s reasoning, in the way his eyes held a galaxy of emotions, how he was entirely made of love. He couldn’t believe it, precisely because he could believe it very well. 

“Why are you saying sorry if none of this is your fault? Hm?” Soo-ho asked, his tone low enough so only Si-eun could hear it. “Why are you doing this?” Why are you doing this to me? “That wasn’t even your mess to clean up in the first place. You went there entirely out of stubbornness. We could’ve sorted things out together, you know?”

Si-eun trembled in his seat. Together. There, with Soo-ho right in front of him and holding his hands so dearly, Si-eun had never been so sure that he had made a mistake letting Soo-ho go so abruptly; and he decided, right there, in a random Thursday in the middle of the school cafeteria, that he would never let him go again.

“I really don’t mind, you know.” Soo-ho continued, sensing his thoughtful silence. He was rubbing his big thumbs in the palm of his hands, and Si-eun resisted the urge to purr. “My grandma only made me promise her that I would try to achieve perfect attendance because I never really liked school in the first place, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to college. I’m still not sure, to be honest.” He rambled, but at the sound of his calm voice, Si-eun gradually relaxed. “But I’ve told her everything, and she doesn’t mind. She understood my reasons, she always does. But I’m sure that if she met you…” When she meets you, he wanted to say, but didn’t want to sound too bold. “She would understand it even better.”

Si-eun let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His hands were sweating a little, and he had never been drunk, but if he had to guess, he would say it felt pretty similar to how he was feeling now.

“You really don’t mind?” He asked, still not quite believing how good Soo-ho was to him. All the time. And Soo-ho only smiled, bringing his hands all the way to his face, his fingers to his lips, yet not quite kissing them. 

“I really don’t mind.” He answered, inhaling not so discreetly the faint sweet scent that emanated from Si-eun’s skin. Soo-ho let go of his hands, letting them fall gracefully on the table again, but soon enough, he was pinching Si-eun’s cheeks with his palms. “Aigoo! You’re so warm-hearted. So cute.”

Suddenly, the cafeteria became eerily quiet. So much so that Soo-ho’s last sentence could be heard loud and clear, echoing through the space like an endless stone cave. There were no chatters, not even the sound of cutlery, not even the slightest chewing noise. Everyone had stopped speaking, and were now looking at them; some curious, some startled, and some horrified. 

Right. They had become the talk of the town.

“What are you fuckers looking at?” Soo-ho yelled, making a few boys jump out of their seats and turn their eyes away immediately. “Nothing to see here.” His voice reached their ears like a command, daring anyone to disobey him. And just like that, the cafeteria was back to normal, the incessant chatter now even more vibrant than before. 

Soo-ho, who had raised himself slightly from his seat, sat back down pinching the bridge of his nose, wincing at his own behavior.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve only been back for a day and they’re already pissing me off. Have they been staring at you for too long? Has anyone tried anything funny while I was away? Did someone mess with you?” 

Si-eun was left breathless by Soo-ho’s bombardment of questions. He was sitting stiff in his seat like a wooden doll, afraid that if he moved too much, he would confirm what he was thinking: was it even possible to produce slick when he wasn’t in heat? So much for that little alpha commanding voice of his not having any effect on you. Oh, he felt pathetic alright.

“No one messed with me.” Si-eun answered in a heartbeat, trying to catch his breath afterwards. That cafeteria was so hot, couldn’t they open the windows? Should he take off his coat?

“Great.” Soo-ho mumbled, going back to his food, dispirited. Si-eun wouldn’t let those idiots ruin their lunch, though, so he thought about something that could cheer him up. He couldn’t find anything better than the truth.

“I’m glad you’re back in school though.” Si-eun said, waiting for Soo-ho’s brown eyes to catch him again. And when they did, he was rewarded with a smile.

Not too far from that specific table in the center of the cafeteria, there was a very specific group of boys whose conversation was getting fueled by the second.

“Ya, can you guys believe it?” One of them started, safe by the cacophony of the other people in the cafeteria. “He silenced the room and then made everyone speak again. That is what I mean by alpha attitude.”

“But isn’t anyone wondering why Ahn Soo-ho wasn’t subjected to a school violence committee?” Another one changed the subject, clicking his metal chopsticks in annoyance. “He almost killed Young-bin, and now he’s here like nothing ever happened in the first place. Psycho attitude, that’s what I’d say.”

“I heard…” The guy next to him began, turning his head a little to see if anyone else was listening. Because God forbid if he said something he shouldn’t and Ahn Soo-ho got mad at him. “that Young-bin got caught with a heat inducing drug, darn it!”

“Really?”

“Are you serious?”

“No way.”

“I’m telling you.” He pointed his chopsticks to the boy in front of him, his eyes wide and serious. “Why do you think he was so interested in helping Yeon Si-eun right after his manifestation? He was up to no good. That’s why they’re letting Soo-ho off to cover it up.”

“But I’m curious. Why are they stuck together?” One boy pointed at the table at the center of the room with his chopsticks.

“Tell me about it, it’s like they’ve become a couple.” The other answered, pointing with his chopsticks at every opportunity. “I bet all my money that Ahn Soo-ho is courting him!”

“Do you think so?” 

“Is he?”

“I’m sure of it! He’s flaunting his MMA skills at him, being touchy, acting like a knight in shining armor in times of need, being with him during his heat, eating together… Isn’t that an omega’s dream?”

“I don’t know much about omegas, to be honest.” One of the boys mumbled. And then, his ears got red and he cracked a nervous smile. “Do you guys think that they… That they like… Mated?”

“Ya! Just say it normally, don’t be so freaked out about it.” The boy next to him nudged him, shoving him with the side of his body.

“Do you guys think so? Underage mating is still illegal.” The guy in front of them said yet again, apparently very informed. But the first one to speak scoffed, waving them off like they were nothing but annoying — and very hilarious — flies. 

“Y’all are a bunch of virgins.” He mocked, exuding an air of experience that was definitely not fake pretend, thank you very much. “It’s obvious that they mated! Soo-ho took him home! They probably did it through the entire weekend! Bro, that’s the life.”

“Oh my god.” The boy next to him exclaimed, his chin to the ground. “I feel like a loser right now.”

“But none of them have their necks marked. At least from what I can see.” The guy in front of them murmured. He was facing the center of the cafeteria and Yeon Si-eun had the right side of his neck, in which his scent gland took place, turned to their direction. However, the state of Ahn Soo-ho’s scent gland was still a mystery. He supposed he wasn’t marked too, or else word would have spread out pretty quickly already. 

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a slap to his arm. His friend was looking at him with disappointment. 

“Ya, you know that when we say mating we’re not talking about the mating bite, don’t you?” He arched his eyebrows. “We mean fucking. Good old fucking.”

“Dude!” The other boy answered, his face crumpled in disgust. “Don’t be so crude!”

“Why? Shouldn’t I talk about fucking while you’re eating?” The other mocked. “Vir-gins!”

“You’re a virgin too, shut up! You don’t fool nobody!”

“Ya! Take your dirty chopsticks out of my food!”

“Oh, you’re mad now?”

“Don’t take my fries, you son of a-”

“Ahn Soo-ho is stronger than me, though.” The other kid finally managed to lift his chin up, talking calmly as if his friends weren’t turning into wild wolves in front of him. “Yeon Si-eun is pretty. I would’ve probably let that law slide.”

“He is pretty, isn’t he?” His friend responded, freezing mid air in a very disgusting gesture with a french fry.

“True that.” Agreed his nemesis, with his hands twisting his wrist. “Funny how I hadn’t realized it until now.”

On the corner of that same table, Oh Beom-seok listened to their conversation very carefully, stealing furtive glances and eating quietly like a bird, feeling guilt and shame eat him right back. 

Young-bin heard them arrive before he even caught a glimpse of them; but when he did see them, he couldn’t help but feel extremely disappointed.

He was expecting Seok-dae to bring a squad of big buff alphas ready for absolute destruction, with blood in their eyes and hunger for bones. Instead, what he brought with him was a bunch of measly kids, one of them being a female omega, for Christ sake.

Young-bin sighed, barely avoiding a slap to his own forehead. His plan hadn’t even started yet and he was already feeling defeated. 

But when Seok-dae sat in front of him, putting yet another one of his cigarettes in his mouth, Young-bin managed to acknowledge him with a thin line of his lips, which could be interpreted as a smile if one was determined enough to do so.

“You’re late.” He said, trying not to show his frustration too clearly.

“Yes.” Seok-dae just stared back at him with his naturally annoyed features as he always did. “Should I be sorry?”

Young-bin breathed in deeply, turning away from him. As Seok-dae lit up his cigarette, Young-bin’s eyes traveled through that open space until they found solace in those three kids — the two boys, who hadn’t even presented yet, were almost bumping heads, entertained by a mobile game; and the girl, a very recently presented omega with purple locks in her hair and a resting bitch face, caught his attention pretty quickly.

“They’re my kids.” Seok-dae stated once he smoked a few times. “This is my cousin.” He said with the most deadpan expression, and Young-bin took a few seconds to understand that he was introducing him. “A rich punk.”

Right. That sure makes a good impression.

He kept staring at the girl, unable to look away. She seemed like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world than there, and she carried herself with an air of disinterest and self-importance that, while Young-bin found that annoying, had to admit it made her look cool. Who knows? Maybe he could forget all about Yeon Si-eun and have fun in other ways; there were tons of other omegas to play with, male and female alike. Perhaps he could even forget his hatred towards that subgender if he was treated nicely enough by one of them —  or by some, or by a lot. 

He could smell it from where he was sitting, her scent. It was a nice strawberry fragrance, but it came through somehow artificial, like those strawberry flavored lipsticks and thematic makeups. Still, he thought it made sense; she was like candy, those fruity lollipops and red bubblegums. Yes, maybe Young-bin could find other omegas to distract himself with, and-

“What?” Her irritated voice shook him out of his daydreams rather abruptly. “What are you looking at? You ugly moron.” 

Young-bin blinked, disbelieved. He was surprised to find that her personality wasn’t sweet as candy; it was sour like fresh strawberries.

“Me?” An ugly moron?

But she didn’t respond. The mocking laughs of the other two boys were enough to answer him.

“She’s so mean.” One of them said, wheezing like he had just heard the greatest joke of all time. “She’s crazy.”

Young-bin scoffed. Nevermind. I fucking hate omegas. 

“Ya.” Seok-dae called him, and he was glad to pay attention to something else. Guess I’m still getting revenge. “You shouldn’t get into fights so soon after recovering from another.” He put his cigarette in his mouth again, his last sentence coming out muffled. “Last chance to back out.”

“No fucking way.” Young-bin spat, feeling like peeling off his skin from so much frustration. “I already paid you half, don’t try to scam me. Besides, it’s been almost a week since I was discharged. It’s fine.” And exactly one week since Yeon Si-eun paid me a friendly visit. I think I should return the kind gesture. 

Seok-dae stared at him as if looking for any sign of hesitancy. When he couldn’t find any, he asked:

“Well… When does he come out?”

Si-eun would never admit it — like many other things —, but now that he and Soo-ho had each other, he was quite enjoying his life at school. 

His days would start pretty much like they did before. He would arrive early, earlier than everyone, except for Soo-ho, who would be sleeping in his makeshift bed made of hard tables. Si-eun told him that he didn’t need to do that anymore now that he wasn’t hoping for an attendance award, but Soo-ho told him that he didn’t mind. 

“If I want to graduate, I have to show up to most of the classes, and that definitely won’t happen if I sleep at home.” He said to him one day when they were walking side by side amongst the flock of students at the end of the day. He had offered to give him a ride to cram school on his motorcycle, but Si-eun had pointedly refused, not wanting to bother him. Soo-ho had insisted an embarrassing amount of times before giving up, but Si-eun had a feeling he still hadn’t let that idea go.

“Besides,” Soo-ho continued, and Si-eun would always remember him like that: with the sun illuminating his skin, his eyes bright and happy, his forehead uncovered by his hair with the wind. “I get to keep you company first thing in the morning.” He said, the most naughty look on his face, and pinched his cheek, a habit that was starting to become annoyingly familiar. “Cute.”

He really gotta stop flirting with me like that, Si-eun thought, feeling Soo-ho’s touch linger on his left cheek, warm and red. I might do something stupid.

Those thoughts were becoming fairly common too. Si-eun would build his walls, brick by boring brick repeatedly every single day, only for Soo-ho to tumble it all down with the smallest gesture. He would always say or do something that would destabilize Si-eun to the point that he felt like his legs would turn to jelly and his entire body would melt under the warmth of his eyes. 

It was too much, but it was also good. It brought him a sense of belonging, a sense of closeness and, most of all, of shelter and protection. He didn’t feel so lonely anymore, and he wasn’t bothered by the stares. He figured people would get used to them eventually, and who were they to even bother? It felt invigorating, and nice, and Si-eun felt oddly proud to be seen with Soo-ho. The only one to be seen with Soo-ho, in fact, because contrary to all that was possible, Soo-ho wasn’t a popular guy — at least, not in the sense of having tons of friends. He was just as lonely as he was, and so they could be lonely together.

Monday came along, and Si-eun couldn’t believe it had been a week since he had visited Young-bin at the hospital. That bloodlust seemed so distant now, so unthinkable and foreign to his current self, constantly spoiled by Soo-ho’s hands in the small of his back, guiding him wherever, and Soo-ho’s protective gaze on the direction of his seat, his scent encapsulating him in a warm embrace. It was all so foreign now.

But as soon as Oh Beom-seok approached him, he was quickly reminded of what it felt like to burn with humiliation, with rage and embarrassment. The beta’s oranges were enough to stain the pages of his books and sour his chocolate. He was now filled with caffeine, to the brim.

“Yeon Si-eun.” 

He had heard it the first time, even with his airpods on. But he ignored it, hoping that Beom-seok would catch a hint and leave.

“Yeon Si-eun.” 

Fair enough. Beom-seok didn’t look like the type to catch a hint. It was with great annoyance that he took his right airpod off, staring back at him with the most inexpressive expression he could muster. 

“You’re done with school, right?” Beom-seok asked, and it felt so painfully forced that even Si-eun, who wasn’t the most well versed in conversational abilities, could notice he was trying to make amends. Si-eun would much rather for him to just go straight to the point, so he could cut him off and go on with his life. Who did he think he was fooling with such poor small talk?

“Are you off to cram school?” The beta continued, a little breathless. Si-eun turned his gaze away from him, walking forward, but he could feel Beom-seok’s nervousness like needles on his skin. His face was sweaty and his hands were trembling, he could see it the second he first looked at him. He almost felt pity. Almost.

“Yes.” Si-eun muttered, his answer coming off like a hoarse growl. He could practically hear the beta gulping beside him, and he suppressed a tired sigh. 

Si-eun never really had the heart to wake Soo-ho up from his intermittent slumbers, but right now he wished he had shaken him awake and begged for his company. Maybe he would even accept his offer to drive him to cram school on his motorbike — anything to take him out of that awkwardness.

“Which cram school do you go to?”

Si-eun couldn’t help his sigh this time.

“Daemyung.” He grumbled, putting his airpod back in his ear. Can you please take a hint now?

“I’m planning to go to cram school too. How is it there? Should I go there too?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Si-eun stopped in his tracks, breathing slowly through his nose to calm himself down. He took his earphone again, and he remained silent even after staring at the other boy for a few seconds. His heart was beating faster than he deemed adequate, and he had a terrible feeling nagging at his intuition. His omega was telling him to run, but he wouldn’t run; it was just Oh Beom-seok, and he could deal with him perfectly fine. 

“You don’t have to win my favor.” Si-eun said, hoping that he was being clear. Beom-seok blinked nervously, his words failing him. “And I won’t accept your apology.”

He walked away, determined not to look back. It felt honestly good to be firm in his convictions; even if the hurt look on Beom-seok’s eyes was satisfying, he knew that he would never feel what he felt that day. Si-eun had come to terms with the fact that he had presented forcefully quite quickly, but he wondered if that would’ve been the case if Young-bin had managed to get his hands on him. He tried not to think about it too much, but he wondered, he truly did, what would have happened to him if Young-bin had gotten what he wanted. 

Si-eun figured his heart should slow down once he dealt with Beom-seok, but by the time he exited the school grounds, he felt like he was going into cardiac arrest. There was something fishy and rotten going on, but he couldn’t grasp what it was. Si-eun found himself wishing, out of nowhere, that he could find another exit, some other way to leave, completely unnoticed. And then, when his steps failed to obey his feelings, he saw him.

There, standing tall and menacing with his bandaged nose and sick smile, was Jeon Young-bin.

“If it isn’t the sweetest boy in Byeoksan.” He greeted him, wickedly so. “I think we have unfinished business to deal with.”

Si-eun gulped, his hands turning into fists.

Should have listened to my gut instincts after all. 

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER SIX — BURNING WOOD, FOREST FIRE

…

As he walked down the inclined pathway, his steps did not falter, and he did not show fear. Even if the muscles of his hands were contracting against his will in a rage-filled reverberation, even if his canines were aching with the desire to bite into rotten flesh, even if his eyes were burning and his vision was evoking slow motion images of his surroundings, he didn’t change the course of his direction, neither did he react accordingly to Young-bin’s prideful desires. Si-eun would die infinite times before serving as bait to his ego; and so, he stepped in closer, enough to feel that bizarre and angry combination of wood and spice, taking off his airpods and looking at the other boy deep in his eyes; a boy he swore — and wished — he would never see again. 

“Young-bin-ah,” He whispered, his voice sounding like a deranged prayer, one that could be said by a regretful man just minutes before his death. “I warned you. I asked you.”

Young-bin’s lip twitched, his eyes vengeful and unforgiving, his smirk psychotic and delighted to see his own anger reflected by his target. Si-eun felt the ground crumble under his feet with the realization that he was right where Young-bin wanted him, like a puppet on a string. 

“But you didn’t ask nicely, did you?” Young-bin answered, his scent spiking with malicious intent. Si-eun breathed in deeply the alpha’s disgusting smell, and he thought that he, too, should relish in being able to hate someone so freely, with so much reason, with so much will.

It was then that Si-eun heard, coming from his right, the sound of someone puffing cigarette smoke; and soon enough, his world expanded as he took in Young-bin’s companions. There were two boys by the stone wall, looking bored and overly dressed in neatly designed jackets; not too far from him, standing to Young-bin’s left just a tad bit behind, was a girl with the most repulsed glare that Si-eun had ever seen, and her fruity sweet mix of scents told him that they had more in common than he would initially guess. 

And finally, standing by his side, was a tall and muscular alpha whose only source of comfort seemed to come from nicotine. He had a naturally imposing and threatening stand, what with his dark clothes and ponytail, but to Si-eun’s immense surprise, he looked like he was the least onboard with all of that — not in the angry and disgusted way of the girl, but much more so like he was doing something against his will. 

Si-eun was, naturally, right — even if he couldn’t know for sure. Seok-dae wasn’t a man that dwelled in his wrongdoings, but he was vulnerable to regret much like everyone else. And he was feeling it now.

“Is this the guy?” He raised his eyebrow after staring at Si-eun for a few seconds, analyzing. The more he inspected, the more he felt disheartened. The kid was a mellow sort of thing, sorrowful by default, a rather bewildering mix of cozy and skittish in his complexion. Seok-dae squinted his eyes and sighed; this Yeon Si-eun honestly reminded him of a kicked puppy, but this time, he was as angry as an actual wolf — and Seok-dae knew that he would hate every second of what was about to come.

“Are you kidding me?” Young-yi groaned beside him, letting out an indignant breath. She couldn’t believe it. The kid was an omega just like her. He didn’t seem harmful, despite his dangerous silence and penetrating stare. Still, she had hopes that Seok-dae’s cousin wouldn’t be so pathetic to the point of fighting someone who wasn’t even his size.  

I knew he was a sexist prick from the start. She twisted her nose, smelling something awful. Going after an omega, really?

“You should be ashamed. This is a no.” Young-yi went on, wanting to stop that immediately; not so much for the kid’s safety but more so to avoid any waste of time, any loss of fucking dignity. “Seok-dae oppa, do I have to?” She turned to the man beside her, almost begging. This is so pathetic, please. 

“Yes, Young-yi.” He said, his tone final and commanding as he returned her gaze with a clenched jaw. The girl rolled her eyes and Seok-dae almost did the same. There was no turning back now, he had to do the honors. 

When Si-eun tried to move past them, he stopped him, raising his arm and blocking his way. 

“I have to go to cram school.” The boy mumbled, only failing to portray nonchalance through his wildly beating heart, which Seok-dae felt through his uniform shirt, trembling right into the skin of his right arm. Agh, this will be harder than I thought. Seok-dae couldn’t even look at him, his face turned to the opposite side as if the kid had a contagious disease. He could feel Young-bin’s eyes on them, filled with obsession and anticipation as if he wanted Seok-dae to break Si-eun’s neck right there — as if he wanted to break Si-eun’s neck himself. 

“I’ve got nothing against you.” He started, wincing a little, his eyes forever squinted and his scent gland wafting acid. “This is just business.” 

Si-eun just stood there as it happened. He watched from up close as that man stopped leaning on the handrail and straightened up, getting even taller. He looked at him slowly, lifting his chin as if he was dreading every second of it. His brows were furrowed and he was pursing his lips a little; Si-eun felt oddly intrigued. He couldn’t even react when the man’s hand collided with his cheek, the pain mind numbing and crude, sending him a few steps behind with the force of the impact. He held on to the handrails for support, and with shaking breaths, returned to his position, looking at them with a tired sigh, humiliation traveling through his veins again, his jaw set and his throat hurting from the urge to cry and scream and howl. 

They urged him forward; Lee Jeong-chan and Han Tae-hoon were right behind him before he knew it. Stuck from every possible angle, Si-eun was forced to follow them. As they walked, he could hear the chatter up on the hill by the school’s entrance; and he selfishly hoped that Soo-ho would wake up soon. 

Beom-seok’s feet were guiding him unconsciously back to the school before he could even comprehend what he was about to do or what he was about to say. He knew he couldn’t just leave it like that . Perhaps it was his guilt eating up at him, gnawing on his every cell like hungry and carnivorous bacteria; to anyone who had seen the fight from afar, it looked like it was just another case of retaliation of bullying — Young-bin was clearly aiming at Si-eun to be his next victim, and Soo-ho defended him with his bare fists when he wasn’t able to do so himself. 

But Beom-seok had been too involved. The way Young-bin had looked that morning, with the light of the sun reflecting his maniac expression as he talked about the heat inducing drug, his will to make Si-eun present by force, the yellowish liquid seeming lethal and dangerous. And Beom-seok, desperate for an ounce of freedom, an opportunity to breathe without fear again, decided to prioritize his own safety over Si-eun’s — even if he knew that Young-bin wasn’t just curious; Young-bin was certain, and he had made very special plans for when Si-eun finally revealed himself, undeniably, as an omega. Beom-seok knew then, and Beom-seok knew now. 

That’s why he ran. He ran until he finally reached class 1-6, panting and shaking with his heart beating on his throat; and to his luck, Ahn Soo-ho was still there, sleeping snuggly with his pink pillow as if his world wasn’t about to crumble in a few minutes, destroyed by the words that would come out of Beom-seok’s hesitant mouth. Because Beom-seok knew, and he would be stupid not to know, that Si-eun and Soo-ho had something going on; something that he had never experienced before and couldn’t exactly describe, something that the whole school found too interesting to talk about — mating, courting, or whatever else —, and he knew, too, that Soo-ho’s reaction wouldn’t be easy to witness. He feared the guy would take his anger out on him and kill everyone in Seoul who had dared to touch a finger in Si-eun.

“Ahn Soo-ho.” He nudged him in the left extended arm, his voice careful and breathless after his desperate marathon. The alpha, however, didn’t budge; he was somehow snoring, lost in another dimension brought by tiredness. Regardless of his sympathy, Beom-seok knew time was essential, and that choice was his alone to make. 

“Ahn Soo-ho.” Beom-seok repeated. He suppressed a gasp when Soo-ho jumped, startled, his arm shoving him away as if he was an annoying mosquito. Soo-ho squinted his eyes to look at him, but Beom-seok didn’t wait for him to wake up completely.

“Jeon Young-bin dragged Yeon Si-eun away.” There. Straight to the point.

He could see the gears in Soo-ho’s brain begin to turn. 

“What?”

“Jeon Young-bin-”

“Aren’t you the guy who drugged Si-eun because Young-bin told you to?” He narrowed his eyes, his scent becoming more noticeable, his whole demeanor defiant and suspicious, maybe even hostile. Beom-seok frowned; he was expecting him to freak out and run out the door as soon as he heard Si-eun’s and Young-bin’s names in the same sentence. But he was wrong, as he often was when it came to alphas and their behaviors. “Why should I trust anything that comes out of your mouth? For all I care, you could be acting as Young-bin’s puppet again right now, making me fall into some trap.”

“Please, I’m telling you the truth.” Beom-seok felt that familiar desperation built at the pit of his stomach, his voice trembling in a humiliating tone of begging. “Jeon Young-bin dragged Yeon Si-eun away. I think I know where they went, you have to believe me.”

“Why should I?”

Beom-seok couldn’t believe his resistance. He almost wanted to yell at him, tell him to fuck off. If he cared about Si-eun as much as he showed — if he was courting him, as everyone was saying — shouldn’t he be worried? Shouldn’t he be alert? Shouldn’t he believe him the first time, and most important of all, shouldn’t he have been by Si-eun’s side when he was leaving the school? Because if he had, Young-bin wouldn’t stand a chance, even with a whole gang by his side. Soo-ho’s alpha was just too feral.

When his desperation reached higher than he could bear, Beom-seok felt the lies escaping his lips with ease, almost as if he meant them from the bottom of his heart. Almost. 

“Because I didn’t do that because I wanted to, alright? He forced me.” That much was true. But it wasn’t enough. “I-I didn’t know what was gonna happen, I didn’t even know what was on that patch.” 

He regretted it as soon as he realized his mistake. But it was too late to back out now. He needed to get Soo-ho on his side, even if he had to lie. And God, he wished he wasn’t lying. He wished he didn’t know. He wished he didn’t know.

And then, he saw it. The moment realization crossed Soo-ho’s eyes. His whole countenance shifted, morphing into silent dread. Beom-seok didn’t need to plead no longer. Soo-ho believed him; he could see the fear, the pain, the regret in his eyes. 

But contrary to whatever Beom-seok thought, Soo-ho didn’t believe him merely because of his words, or the nervous way his body twitched and trembled while he begged for his attention. He believed him because he felt it, deep in his heart, in his gut. A horrible feeling, coming from his screaming wolf; a message from his programmed organism, his subconscious, his soul, or whatever anyone wanted to call it. It was there, and it was real, and it was powerful. A warning — his omega was in danger.

My omega is in danger. My omega.

Soo-ho got up abruptly, with such force that the chair he was sitting in went flying to the ground. Beom-seok’s eyes widened behind his rounded glasses, and he moved back in reflex. However, his attempts at protecting himself were proven futile in the next second, when Soo-ho’s hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him until they were inches apart. Beom-seok didn’t contain his yelp this time, but managed to not twist his nose at the burning wooden scent, like wildfire. 

“Take me to where he is.”

It wasn’t a request. He was ordering, commanding him; his voice told so, much like his scent and the rage in his wide open eyes, ridden of any trace of sleep. Beom-seok would be stupid — and very much dead — if he denied.

“Okay.”

Soo-ho let go of his shirt and Beom-seok almost fell to the ground. The alpha was just a moving shadow of red when Beom-seok adjusted his glasses, and he heard his loud, heavy and deep voice echoing through the corridor at a distance just seconds later:

“Well, hurry the fuck up!”

They had taken him to some sort of empty lot, with tons of random things hanging around. The place wasn’t disgusting or scary, but it screamed abandonment. As that alpha threw him on the wall, trapping him with no way out, Si-eun took a mental image of his surroundings.

Plants. Dark sand on a clay pot. Green railings. Paint buckets. Soon, the tall alpha, who had been so quiet and focused solely on him, turned around to look at the girl, who still looked immensely annoyed.

“Go stand watch.” He told her. Even with the command in his voice, Si-eun could tell he had a soft spot for that omega, for his scent didn’t change with his show of authority, and his features seemed less threatening.

“God, this is damn boring.” She dared to say, while Si-eun was becoming increasingly alarmed for his own well being. At least someone is unconcerned. “What are you, little kids?” She tsked. “Gil-soo is calling. Make it quick.”

As she walked away, Si-eun wondered if there was a price to pay for still having an ounce of common sense left. He was surprised to find that she didn’t go that far. But unfortunately, he was not surprised to hear Young-bin’s voice again, the one that brought him the most immense rage.

“His hands.” He murmured, looking at him with his ugly scowl. There was vengeance in his eyes, hatred in his ardent, putrid scent. “Crush that rat’s hands, so he can never study again.”

Well, if Young-bin was going to be petty, then so was he. 

Three on the left. The boys in the bright colored jackets and Jeon Young-bin. They need to be taken care of quickly. 

Si-eun’s eyes turned to the other side. Two on the right. Han Tae-hoon and Lee Jeong-chan. They might respond conditionally. Deal with them later. 

He looked up front. The ponytail alpha, with his natural grimace and scent sour like expired lemonade, was frowning at him with a hint of discomfort, yet his stance told him he wasn’t going to set him free out of pity. The cigarette smoke covered his face for a brief moment, and Si-eun knew what to do.

I need to make the first move. 

But before he could take his pen out of his blouse pocket, he was being pushed violently towards a rusty and old metal table by his left. The noise his body made when his torso was shoved in the metal was almost deafening, but Si-eun managed to ignore the pain as both his hands were held behind him and his head was held tightly by his hair. That stupidly huge alpha was strong, and Si-eun noticed, frightfully, that he hadn’t used even 20% of his actual strength when he punched him. How considerate. Si-eun didn’t know if he should be grateful or not.

He only knew that, in his anguish to find a way to fight and leave, he hadn’t heard Young-bin saying something to the alpha that was once right in front of him. He wondered why that man, who seemed considerably older than them, was taking orders from a highschooler. Maybe he was somehow indebted to Young-bin, maybe there was money or some sort of reputation issues involved. Either way, the grip that man had on him was tight, strong and unwavering, and he felt uncomfortably small. It was a bit humiliating.

“Take his backpack. Careful, though! We don’t want him to do anything funny.” 

Young-bin’s voice was like poison to his ears. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon managed to get his backpack out without any significant change from the alpha’s hold. They made sure to open it and throw his things on the table; his cellphone fell with a loud tug on the rusty metal, while his notebook and tons of papers fell ungraciously to the ground. Young-bin smiled wickedly and nodded to the boys in the jackets. They caught an empty bucket, threw all of his things there, and lit up a cigarette lighter. Soon enough, all his careful annotations, born out of countless days and nights of studying, were gone, burning like wood in a forest fire. 

Si-eun fought the urge to growl, and also the urge to cry. Nevermind. He thought. I have a great memory. Everything I wrote, everything I studied, it’s all in my head. Young-bin can’t take that away from me. Even if he takes the control of my hands. Even if he takes everything else.

To his immense distress, Young-bin didn’t seem to be done, and he would be a fool to believe that he just wanted to mess with his things when he was clearly way more perverse than one could imagine. He took his cellphone in hands, his face lighting up when he saw how easily he could access it.

“You don’t have a password.” He snorted. “You’re really not as smart as people think.”

Si-eun twisted his nose. His disgusting smell was starting to become too noticeable in his agitation. Young-bin was having fun. This bastard is having fun. Si-eun thought he couldn’t bear it any longer. I need to think of a way out.

He tried to look around, but his vision was blurry and wet with unshed tears, and his head, held tightly and forcefully, was pointing exactly to Young-bin, who was blocking some of the light and the view. Soon enough, he called Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon, his faithful sidekicks, to come and see something very funny. Si-eun could only see his aggressors then, looking like sadistic, laughing hyenas.

“Aw, look at that.” Young-bin pointed at his phone, his face red from laughing. His scent, however, denoted something else. His scent was annoyed, the paprika sprouting out like weeds. “Soo-ho alpha. With a heart.”

All the boys laughed, except for the man who held him. He, to Si-eun’s surprise, let out a tired sigh, as if he couldn’t wait for all that to be over. Si-eun didn’t mind Young-bin’s attempts to humiliate him, but he was starting to think that he would have to do something drastic to get out of their grip.

“Who would think a lethargic bitch like you would have feelings.” Young-bin’s acid, sharp voice returned, now more violent than ever. “Was his dick that good?” He approached him, no longer laughing; his expression was a mix of intimidating and sardonic, his eyes taking a frightening glint. As he approached further, Si-eun considered the few options he held in his mind, determined, through red eyes and angry gritted teeth, to get out of there as soon as possible. “Did he knot you up so good that you saved his number for later? Right on your first heat, too. You’re such a cheap whore.”

Si-eun felt his hands turn into fists, and the man’s grip on him tightened. He tried to wiggle them out of his hold, and in return, the alpha put both his hands there, tightening his grip even further, leaving Si-eun’s head free. He suppressed a victorious smile. Just as I planned.

“Ya, Young-bin.” The man started, a warning tone in his voice. Si-eun could sense his uneasiness. “Just beat him up already. Let’s get this over with, hurry up.”

“But I just started having fun.” Young-bin tsked. “I was just about to offer this whore another job opportunity.”

Si-eun felt his blood boil. The man holding him made a sound with his breath, and his scent changed to something more alert, more aware. Young-bin was too close now, just like he was on the day it all began, in front of the whole class, with his scent of burning wood, then humid cedar in the summer. Just like right now. And now, he had to act.

Even if he had a feeling deep in his heart that Soo-ho somehow knew, and that he was coming, that he would show up; even if the omega inside him yearned to howl for his alpha’s aid and bask in the feeling of his protectiveness. Even when he had those innate feelings burning deep in his bones, he knew he had to act. He had to get out on his own, for he was a wolf too, and he had fangs.

“That’s all that you are, isn’t it?” Young-bin’s hand collided with his right cheek, leaving it red and aching. “A whore.” And then with his left one. Burning. Just a little more. “A breeding whore, made to please alphas, take their knots and nothing more.” Another slap. And another. 

And then, Young-bin got too close for comfort.

“Think you can take my knot? Think you can handle it?”

Si-eun opened his mouth and jumped forward. The taste of blood and Young-bin’s scream was all he could comprehend next.

“Woah! Slow down!”

Beom-seok was holding the bike’s handlebars like his life depended on it, because with the speed that Soo-ho was driving, it actually did. Not for the first time, Beom-seok thought he was going to fly out of the vehicle into the asphalt or blast his skinny body on another car. The wind was a terrifying reminder of how fast they were moving, and Soo-ho was dodging the other cars and making curves with such carelessness that Beom-seok was afraid that he would eventually make an imprecise calculation and send them both to their demise.

“Don’t fucking tell me to slow down.” Was his only answer. Soo-ho didn’t have time to waste with such bullshit as traffic safety. Si-eun is in danger. That was all that mattered.

“I’m gonna fall down.” Beom-seok continued, almost begging with his now familiar trembling voice. Soo-ho didn’t even process his own irritation. His scent was probably all over the place, but it burned, everything around him burned. “We can’t help him if we get in an accident.”

“I don’t care.” I don’t care if you fall down. I don’t care if we both die. “I need to get to him.” I need to get to my omega, my omega is not safe. 

And in his mind, a chatter: my omega my omega my omega. Like a prayer. Please let my omega be alright.

Soo-ho did his best to follow Beom-seok’s hand signs, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking desperately from side to side, as if to catch a glimpse of Si-eun’s tearful eyes and his sorrowful gaze. He longed to feel his scent up close and to hug him tight; he felt as if he stayed another minute in that motorcycle he would explode, the anticipation and worry devouring his skin from inside out. 

When they finally reached their destination, Soo-ho didn’t even park his bike properly. He left Beom-seok to his own devices and sped out like he had been trained to do so all his life. He barely noticed the shape of a girl smoking on the entrance of that empty lot, but he felt his entire being shake with the striking sound of a scream. Young-bin. Si-eun. 

He had to be quick.

Young-bin’s ear was bleeding profusely, even as he tried to soothe it with his hands. His sidekicks were left once again horrified, disoriented by the sound of his screechings and the way he clung to them out of despair and insurmountable pain. With the commotion, the alpha’s grip on his hand faltered. Si-eun managed to bring his left hand out of his hold, and he quickly grabbed his pen, stabbing it in the alpha’s arm. He groaned, his strength suffering from the blow, and Si-eun finally, finally, shrugged himself off abruptly enough to be free. 

He ran, unbothered about his burned papers and stolen phone. The pen in his hand was painted in blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He did what he had to do.

It was then that Young-bin screamed. He screamed so loudly and so angrily that he might’ve as well become a beast, a monster. Si-eun didn’t get to go that far when he was pushed to the ground in a brusque shove. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon were holding him this time, hovering over him and forcing him down with their own hands and knees over his torso and arms. The next thing he felt was excruciating pain as Young-bin stepped on his right hand repeatedly, all his strength motivated by his own bleeding wound and his pent up jealousy. 

“You punk. You goddamn whore. You fucker.” He kept muttering through gritted teeth. When his hand was hurt enough, he turned to his stomach and chest, kicking him with all his might. Si-eun felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, and the urge to vomit his very organs was only natural with the way his insides were being mushed by Young-bin’s feet. “Die. You little rat.”

If he had had the chance to inhale properly, just a little more aware, he would’ve noticed. His scent.

It happened too quickly for Si-eun’s tired brain to process. He came running at a speed unlike any other, a speed only a wolf on a rampage could perform. It was almost graceful, the way he used Tae-hoon’s neck as an impulse to strike his masterful kick on Young-bin’s chest, which made him fall to the ground, not without rolling in the concrete, bringing dust with him. He turned around, spinning like a dance, and brought his leg in a smooth kick right on Tae-hoon’s face. Suddenly, Si-eun couldn’t feel any grips on him; he was left on the ground, accompanied solely by a shadow of a growling, angry, powerful wolf. 

And he almost felt like crying, unable to believe in the magnitude of his relief. Every cell on his body sang. Soo-ho. Alpha. Alpha, you’re here. 

“Are you okay, pup?” I’m here. It was like an answer in the form of a question. Even if Si-eun was obviously not okay, coughing uglily as a result, he couldn’t help but feel much better already. Soo-ho had turned to him, but his stance was still protective, serving as some kind of barrier between Si-eun and the rest of the world. He had done it before, whether he was conscious of it or not; when Si-eun was weak from his forced heat, sitting on the ground in front of his apartment door, and Soo-ho kept him shielded from anything that could distress him further. It was just like him to put Si-eun’s every need over his. Because Soo-ho was an alpha, a good alpha, and as Si-eun accepted his helping hands to gather himself up, he shamelessly wished that Soo-ho would be his alpha, and his only.

It was as if time had stopped. Soo-ho let go of his alert position the minute he noticed Si-eun’s badly injured hand, and how his scent denoted how truly terrified and hurt he was. Si-eun could see the shift in his eyes: from bloody murder to mournful longing to bloody murder again. He was angry, amazingly so, but Si-eun understood that he was more worried about getting Si-eun to a safe place than acting out on his impulses. He understood it when he put his hands on his reddened cheeks, swept them over his sweaty hair and locked eyes on his. I knew you would come to my aid. He wanted to say. It was a weird feeling, something that awakened deep inside his soul, something that was as obvious as the color of the sky or the roundness of the Earth. 

Soo-ho looked back menacingly, the rage so evident in his countenance that the others could only shudder. Even Young-bin could feel it, while he shakily got up from the ground. 

“This ends here. Got it?” He stated. His voice echoed, like Si-eun had heard before, as a command. “I’m being merciful.” And careful. I’m gonna deal with these bastards later. Somehow, Si-eun knew his intentions from the beginning. His alpha didn’t take those sorts of things lightly. 

Soo-ho didn’t look back after that. He grabbed Si-eun’s arm, leading him to the entrance. Protective, possessive pheromones were wafting off him in an almost intoxicating way. He didn’t look back. He should have.

For a hand suddenly caught him by the blue windbreaker, and pulled violently until he was on the ground. He got up quickly in reflex, his fists coming up in a fighting stance before he could even see who was his adversary. It was a tall alpha with dark clothes and a ponytail. His left arm was bleeding, and Soo-ho chuckled inwardly, feeling inherently proud of his omega’s fierceness. That’s what you get when you mess with Yeon Si-eun.

“Not so quickly.” 

Seok-dae wondered if he should really be doing this. His cousin’s intentions had been clear from the moment he started slapping that omega’s cheeks and saying profanities so close to his face. He was the worst type of pervert, and Seok-dae shouldn’t — wouldn’t — compactuate with any of it. But his cousin was badly hurt, with his ear almost bitten off and his ribs kicked. And Seok-dae had his own reasons; he had a puncture in his upper arm that justified his willingness to fight. Even if that alpha had nothing to do with it, he had to lash out on someone (the other half of the money was another motivation in itself).

Soo-ho, on the other hand, just wanted to get back to Si-eun. He didn’t know why that other alpha was willing to fight him in the name of Young-bin’s immoral wishes, but he knew he was angry enough to discount on anyone who crossed his way. After all, they had dared to hurt his Si-eun. 

And so, Seok-dae started throwing punches. His left arm was screaming in protest, the blood still liquid and fresh, but the pain was a comfort that finally gave him a reason to partake in that teenage display of territorialism. Soon enough, however, he realized that he hadn’t chosen a good target for his frustration or whatever was left of his business contract. 

The boy — Ahn Soo-ho, he remembered Young-bin saying — was skilled. He dodged every single one of his punches with agility and ease. Idly, Seok-dae thought that he must have had some sort of martial arts background, for he quickly felt outnumbered even though they were fighting one on one. It didn’t take long for the pain in his left arm to be made company by another, more insistent and obvious pain; that fucker had dodged all of his punches and punched him instead.

He paid no mind and continued on. He escaped Soo-ho’s hands, but didn’t manage to escape a kick on his right side. He grunted, as if he could swallow the pain, and when Soo-ho’s leg kicked him again, he grabbed him and threw him on the ground. Seok-dae aimed for his head, but his rival was quick to protect himself from his repetitive blows. And while at it, he tried to sneak a glance behind him, where the omega was standing still, seemingly paralyzed. 

Right. Young-bin just had to mess with a mated omega. I knew his mate would be fuming.

The thought of his cousin disconcerted him, and a small slip on his composure was enough. Soo-ho dodged his punch, like he had done many times before, and his fist touched the ground with force. Soo-ho, the smart fighter that he was, grabbed his arm, swirled his legs until they were rolling over. 

But it was when Seok-dae grabbed Soo-ho’s arm and flipped him over to the ground that Young-bin, catching his breath, decided that he should be quick and do what he had in mind since the beginning.

“Ya,” He called his friends, who were beside him watching the fight with fearful interest. It was a matter of time before his cousin lost, he knew it. “Grab that damn punk. I’ll let you guys have a little fun too when I’m done.”

Tae-hoon and Jeong-chan didn’t need to be told much. They knew. They understood. They were just like him.

•••

Si-eun knew that, logically, he shouldn’t be just standing there, watching Soo-ho fight. He should help him in any way he could — two was better than one, even if one didn’t know how to fight per se — or he should leave, running away as fast as possible. 

But he simply couldn’t. He couldn’t just leave Soo-ho there.

It was as if his feet were glued to the ground, his eyes unable to do anything but follow Soo-ho’s every move, feel every punch and every kick and every fall to the ground like they were his own. He couldn’t even catch his breath; every time that alpha managed to hit Soo-ho, it was like all the air in his lungs vanished painfully. His hand was a numb phantom limb and he felt sweaty, gross, guilty. If it wasn’t for me, Soo-ho wouldn’t be in this mess, he wouldn’t be getting hurt.

If I wasn’t a damn omega.

If he wasn’t an omega, then, perhaps…

“You damn little-” His body made a stuffy, heavy sound when Tae-hoon threw him on the ground. The image of those menacing alpha and beta, whose faces were that of salivating wolves towards their prey, was a warning that something worse was coming. They were shrinking the light of the afternoon sun, and Si-eun felt suffocated, horrified. And then, he heard:

“Hold him by the arms and legs!” Young-bin’s shrill and pained voice, commanding his subordinates as if he was on a war. He was pointing at him with a blood stained hand, his pupils almost as red as the tip of his index finger. “We don’t want this bitch getting away again.”

Panic settled deep in his heart and traveled all over his body when Si-eun realized what was about to happen. Jeong-chan was holding both his wrists and Tae-hoon’s grip on his legs was keen like knives. They were holding him to the ground, giving all their strength for him to stand still while Young-bin hovered over him, settling between his tights. 

Si-eun didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want it to be real. His blood cells, his veins, his bones, his flesh were asking for it all to be just a terrible nightmare. 

“Wait, Young-bin-” He started to plead before he could even comprehend. There was a frightened, insufferable stale scent he soon realized was his own. His survival instinct was kicking in, and he could feel those tears which he kept so close were now spilling. “Young-bin, please-”

He was silenced by a punch on his nose. He could feel the blood, warm and sticky, flowing like a waterfall to his mouth. And when he opened his eyes and saw Young-bin’s wide, furious eyes, he knew he wouldn’t let him go. His desire to destroy his soul was unparalleled, unstoppable, unnegotiable.  

“Shut up, you miserable omega.” He cursed through gritted teeth. Then he chuckled, maniacally so, and opened the first button of his jeans. Si-eun felt an uncomfortable shudder pass through him like cold ice. The noise of the zipper opening was like a gunshot. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t possibly be happening. “I’ll show you what you’re good for.”

“Ya!” He heard Soo-ho’s cry in the distance, a shriek so agonized that it sounded scratched by the wind. “Get off him!” He screamed. Si-eun lifted his head, wiggled his hands and knees in a foolish attempt to get out of their grip; somehow, Soo-ho’s calls hurt more on him than the pain on his wrists and his bloody nose. Soo-ho was holding the other alpha by the neck, but his arms lost strength as soon as he caught sight of Young-bin’s approach to Si-eun. 

They were both out of luck, however; and outnumbered.

Soo-ho’s arms slipped off Seok-dae. He barely started running towards Si-eun before the alpha grabbed him by the neck, holding him still. Soo-ho yelled, tried to punch him and run in vain. They both fell to the ground as soon as Young-bin began to fumble with Si-eun’s pants, the omega’s pleas echoing through the place like a haunting melody. Soo-ho was too desperate to realize that Seok-dae was just as horrified as him. 

“Ya, Young-bin! That’s enough!” The older cousin screamed, but he kept his grip tight and careful on Soo-ho. If he didn’t, Young-bin would die. He knew it. He could smell it. He could feel it on his skin, how every cell on that alpha’s body was just dying to murder everyone who was messing with Si-eun, messing with his mate by heart.

“LET HIM GO!” Soo-ho screamed, high pitched and tearful and so furious. “GET YOUR DISGUSTING FILTHY HANDS OFF HIM!” 

But Young-bin didn’t stop. Si-eun’s nightmare was just beginning if it depended on him. He brought the omega’s jeans down rather easily, even with the way his body was shaking in protest. “I’ll show you what you’re good for.” He repeated, as if in a trance. He touched Si-eun through his thin cotton underwear, and the boy screeched, as if the contact burned like acid. Young-bin smirked. He was finally gonna get his hands on that infuriating omega, would finally teach him a lesson, and what a pleasant surprise — Ahn Soo-ho was gonna watch. 

The angry, desperate howls of the alpha who almost beat him to death. Those bizarre, doe eyes of that god forsaken omega, now overflowing with tears, looking at him with so much mortification. The smell of his fear, how his scent got stronger right between his legs. It was all intoxicating. Addicting. Just what he wanted, just what he deserved. Young-bin resisted the urge to lick his lips.

But just when he was about to act further, he heard another scream, beyond all the others he could hear. His cousin’s voice.

“Young-yi!”

She was there. That strawberry scented omega with the rude scowl. Young-bin had forgotten about her.

“Should we take care of her?” Jeong-chan asked, struggling to hold Si-eun down. Young-bin growled.

“Not until we’re finished with him.”

“Young-yi! Young-yi, do what I told you, now!”

“Shut the FUCK up, Seok-dae!” Young-bin screeched. “Let’s get this over with.”

Young-yi watched in the distance, disbelief painted in her face. She watched, almost paralyzed, as that omega — an omega that could as well be herself — yelled and kicked and struggled to keep that violent alpha from sticking his hands into his underwear. She trembled in her place, her shaking hand grabbing her phone, as he cried and begged for his intimacy to be preserved, for his body to be left untouched. And then she realized: that was the world they lived in. That was how the world treated people like her, that was how they treated bodies like hers, how they viewed their sweet scents and supposedly softer nature. She had always known, but there was never a clearer message than what was unfolding in front of her eyes. All that violation, that transgression, which made her feel less than human. Just an object, she thought. We’re just toys, they’re toying with us, they’re toying with him.

She turned around, her feet moving almost without her consent. I can’t keep watching this. She dialed the number she swore she wouldn’t dare to call. I can’t witness this. While she waited anxiously for a response, she was swept off her feet with a recent memory.

“You need to pay attention when Young-bin gets his hands on the kid,” Seok-dae said to her when they were alone, just before they met with his cousin. He had given her a gucci bag and told the boys to fetch some things. Young-yi thought about obeying if only because of the present.

“If things escalate,” He continued with a rather sad and dreadful look on his face while he puffed out smoke. “If things start to look more serious, more ugly than just a physical fight between schoolboys,” He paused, breathing deeply. “I want you to call the police.”

“What the actual fuck, Jeon Seok-dae?” She sounded outraged. “It’s uglier. We say uglier. ”

It was so easy then, to find a stupid reason to be playfully mad about, just because. Seok-dae blinked, and she could see he was genuinely confused. And then she snapped.

“And why the hell would I call the police? Do you wanna get caught? Do you want them to know what we’re up to? Gil-soo will kill you.”

Seok-dae almost rolled his eyes at her reaction, but his smirk right afterwards told her that he thought about it fondly. 

“Don’t ask difficult questions, just do as I say.” He mumbled, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. He grabbed another, flicking his lighter like a second skin. “If we’re lucky, you won’t need to do anything. Hopefully things will be as usual.”

“Tch. Why are you so gloomy all of a sudden?” She frowned. “You’re talking as if your cousin is some kind of monster. Or a dangerous thug.”

Seok-dae looked at her in a way he has never done before. His eyes seemed darker than they normally were, his frown more pronounced, his expression tired and forlorn. She could sense a shift in the atmosphere, almost as if it was about to rain. And she caught herself feeling eerie, uncomfortable, reacting to his citrusy scent like it was rotten fruit. 

So she decided to do what she knew best; she suppressed it and played it cool.

“Ya, don’t be stupid. I won’t need to call the police. I’m just gonna stand there and be pretty like always.” 

They stood in silence then, waiting for the time to come.

Every ring felt like an eternity. Young-yi could feel the drops of sweat on her forehead like thick sea waves. And then, just when she was about to hang up and shout for help down the streets, an answer:

“This is Seocho-gu police station, how can I help you?”

“Oh thank God-” She sobbed. “You guys need to come quick.”

So that was how he would feel. If Young-bin had gotten his hands on him. 

So that was what was gonna happen to him that day of the mock test. That was the reason he had presented in the first place, wasn’t it? To satisfy that alpha’s dirty, gruesome desires, born out of a place of pure hatred. 

His body would be hot, cold and hurting, just like it was now. Young-bin’s hands would be all over him, violent and bloody, leaving him with purple bruises. He would undress him, touch him against his will, humiliate and violate him in the most terrible way known to mankind. He would feel desperate, and then hopeless, and then broken. His tears wouldn’t let him see, his sobs wouldn’t be heard. He would be trapped and used like a ragdoll, because to Young-bin, that was what omegas were all about. Somewhere deep inside his mind, Si-eun thought he even believed in it. 

It was happening, he realized. It was happening, it was really happening. Young-bin was taking his underwear, sticking his fingers in his tights. Si-eun closed his eyes and sobbed, cried, screeched. Perhaps he even howled. He felt like he was calling someone, anyone, to release him of his tension, to relieve him of that nightmare. I need to wake up.

His scent was the worst he had ever smelled, beyond the scent of his aggressors. It was as if an entire coffee plantation had been set on fire, like his body had become carbonized. What was not engulfed by flames, was destroyed and rotten, the most disgusting type of sweet. Si-eun could feel his eyes burning and watering. He tried to wiggle himself out of Jeong-chan’s grip, but to no avail yet again. He cursed under his breath. Just get this over with.

Si-eun looked to his right. He saw a movement in the corner of his eye, in slow motion. That alpha — what was his name again? — had opened his arms. In between them, dark pitch black hair he could recognize anywhere and a furious gaze set straight ahead. It happened too slow, too fast, like time was just an illusion. Si-eun thought he was past the point of being attached to his real body; if Young-bin was going to rape him, he didn’t want to be present, he wanted to disappear, to black out and pretend his consciousness had traveled to another dimension for some time. While his body was not his own, his vision could conjure up just blurry images. And that awful pressure in the lower part of his body was relieved with a scream, and a punch. So many punches.

His head hit the ground suddenly. The pain didn’t shake him in the slightest. He only decided to move when he realized that both Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon had gotten off him to try and help their master, like the good dogs they were. Si-eun tried to get up, but could only crawl away from all that noise. He could hear a very familiar angry screech. Soo-ho. Soo-ho is getting himself involved yet again. He had half the mind to adjust his underwear and jeans, and when he did so, his vision cleared.

Young-bin was lying on the ground, Soo-ho’s body on top of him. Young-bin’s face was bleeding from the punches, but whatever pain he was feeling didn’t seem to phase him. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon were holding Soo-ho’s hands, keeping him from going any further. Soo-ho’s eyes were two orbs filled with fury, wide and unforgiving, as if he could burst fire through them into Young-bin’s laughing stance. 

Si-eun, suddenly taken by a strong headache, found himself mesmerized by that image. It was almost like an ancient painting of some sorts, an odyssey: an heroic figure being held by two cowardly creatures in hopes that the personification of evil beneath him, cynical and hysterical, doesn’t fade away by the force of his fists. Soo-ho’s eyes, so full of rage like never before, not even on that morning in October. Young-bin’s bloody face, laughing and gurgling red liquid. It was too much. Si-eun caught himself feeling again, the numbness rolling away from his body with the realization that Young-bin had tried to rape him. He had almost done it.

He breathed in and out slowly, the air coming out hot like a volcano. He took his bloody pen out of his pocket. And when Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon pulled Soo-ho enough so Young-bin could escape from under him, he was ready. He waited for him obediently, almost passively, as he walked towards him like a zombie. 

“You can’t run away. I won’t let you.” Young-bin murmured, spitting his own blood on the concrete. If he noticed that Si-eun’s gaze matched Soo-ho’s, he didn’t comment. “You’re mine. I can do whatever I want with you.” 

Si-eun let him come closer, like he had done before. He resisted the urge to chuckle at the fact that Young-bin was stupid enough to not realize that he was falling, essentially, into the same trap he had fallen some minutes prior. 

“You got it wrong, as always.” Si-eun replied, clicking his pen. He liked to think that, when their eyes crossed paths again, Young-bin looked a little hesitant, perhaps even a little bit scared. “It’s the other way around.”

Young-bin flashed forward to attack, much like alpha wolves used to do in primitive times. In times like those, Si-eun might’ve flinched and backed away, surrendering to his submissive nature. 

But instead, he faced him head on, and stabbed his pen on his neck, right on his scent gland. 

Si-eun had never seen that much blood in his life. It spilled out of Young-bin like water sprinklers. Young-bin only managed to scream once before choking; his whole entire face was red. It was like a scene from a horror movie, or a documentary on the terrors of war. But Si-eun didn’t mind; he didn’t mind, even when Young-bin’s blood stained his shirt and skin, even when he lost his precious pen to such a disgusting source of smell. He didn’t mind, not even when Young-bin fell to the ground unconscious by his feet, staining his shoes and hurting what was left to hurt. He didn’t mind, because in the end, it was what he deserved, and he felt completely justified. 

It didn’t make any more sense for Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon to hold Soo-ho down when their only reason for doing so was lying on the ground, practically dead. But Soo-ho didn’t give them any chance of redemption; seeing Si-eun standing there, covered in spots of blood and looking so exhausted and hopeless had given him a new burst of energy. He punched Tae-hoon and pulled Jeong-chan by the arm, throwing him to the ground with a heavy thud. 

When he was free, he walked. He walked with shaking legs and a terrible sense of direction. He walked until he could feel him under his fingertips and smell him from up close — sweet even with all the bullshit he had been through. 

“Soo-ho.” Si-eun whispered so quietly that Soo-ho thought he had misheard him. But his chapped, bleeding lips had moved, his eyes were looking directly at him, tearful and longing. He was there, and he would never leave again. If Si-eun would have him, he wouldn’t let him go. Ever. 

He approached the omega without even noticing. His body seemed to know instinctively what to do, how to hold him, scent him, protect him. This was all he ever wanted to do. He wasn’t surprised when his wolf steered to life at the mere sense of movement from the other alpha — Seok-dae; he pulled Si-eun behind him, his body and his arm shielding him along with his growls. He could feel his fangs itching to bite; if that alpha got any closer, he would rip his arm off. 

But Seok-dae raised his hands high in a sign of peace. Soo-ho kept growling, threatening pheromones stronger than ever, but Seok-dae just crouched, grabbed Young-bin by the collar of his shirt and moved his limp body until he was lying on his back. He touched his pulse and pursed his lips.

“Had to make sure he’s alive.” He wrinkled his nose. “Still breathing, but barely so.”

Soo-ho’s muscles were tense, but he breathed a little easier. Si-eun pulled him by the sleeve of his windbreaker and in a second he was facing him again, his hands all over his face.

“Does it hurt too bad? Do you feel ill or weak? Do you want some water? Want to go home? I can take you-”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Si-eun mumbled. Soo-ho didn’t believe him and was about to reply, when he realized his gaze. He was holding on to his arms as if Soo-ho was the only source of reality he could cling to. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, Soo-ho would coo and say he looked so cute, because he did — even sweaty and dirty and bloody, he was still the cutest, loveliest thing Soo-ho had ever laid his eyes upon. 

But he smelled distressed. Concerned, scared, tired. Soo-ho couldn’t blame him; he didn’t even like to think of what had just happened, was trying to erase the images he had seen from his mind. He couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt for Si-eun, to be surrounded by that stench, to be hurt and violated. He hated it. He couldn’t stand it.

And so, Soo-ho grabbed him in his arms in a hug, and did something they were both starting to get really familiar with: he scented him. 

He scented Si-eun all over; he touched his cheek on his, rubbed their scent glands, sniffed his neck, kissed his wrists and did everything all over again until Si-eun was completely covered in his scent. The omega didn’t budge, didn’t complain, didn’t even flinch; he just closed his eyes, breathed deeply and allowed himself to be comforted by the scent and the presence of the only alpha who mattered, the only alpha whose smell could excite him and calm him and make him feel so secure, so at home. 

With that alpha in his arms, he could pretend nothing bad ever happened. It was just the two of them in the world.

But it seemed like his time with Soo-ho was never enough.

“Seok-dae!” They heard a distant yell. 

Soo-ho refused to take his hands out of Si-eun’s waist even when Young-yi appeared, breathless and startled. Next to her, a confused Beom-seok was holding Soo-ho’s red helmet and adjusting his glasses while looking at the scene. His eyes were two giant surprised espheres, his face engulfed by terror. He had never looked so pale, and Si-eun didn’t know how he’d react if he had seen everything that had gone down in that afternoon. 

“Guys…” He started, his voice small and contained, fixating on Young-bin’s destroyed body on the ground. “What happened here?”

Soo-ho closed his eyes, massaging his temples. “Not now, Beom-seok.”

“Yeah,” Si-eun grumbled. “not now.”

“Seok-dae oppa!” Young-yi demanded attention once again. “They’re here. We gotta go.”

They? Si-eun wanted to ask. Suddenly, the sound of police sirens revealed itself, louder and clearer by the minute. Si-eun didn’t know if he should feel relieved or not, but he felt deep satisfaction at the fear on Young-bin’s minion’s faces. 

“It’s too late now, Young-yi.” Seok-dae sighed. He didn’t seem very worried, at least not a fraction of Young-yi’s desperation. If Si-eun needed any proof that they were involved with bad stuff, the expression on that girl’s face was enough to confirm it. “Besides… This is all part of the plan.”

“What?” Young-yi frowned. “What plan, you idiot? What are you talking about?”

Seok-dae’s eyes traveled from left to right. Jeong-chan. Tae-hoon. Young-bin, passed out and bloody on the ground. Young-yi and her nervousness. Beom-seok, scared and confused. Soo-ho and Si-eun, one and the same. Finally, he looked forward, hearing the rushed footsteps of the policemen, and lit yet another cigarette.

“We’ll have to testify.”

•••

The police were known to ask questions, but Si-eun had never imagined them to be so many, so uncomfortably invasive. Perhaps it was because the situation in itself was invasive and uncomfortable and definitely not something that Si-eun wished to go through. But an ambulance was called, there were sirens and colors disturbing the peace; some people walking by started to gather around and have a look at the commotion. 

All the while, Si-eun just wanted to go home.

“So you’re telling me he tried to sexually assault you?”

The hand on his waist tightened on reflex. Soo-ho hadn’t let go of him for a second. He was sure everyone could notice; the policemen, with their beards and mustaches and uniforms and files to fill, were eyeing them almost suspiciously, but didn’t say anything regarding their potent smell. They both smelled the same, and Si-eun would lie if he said that that didn’t comfort him; in fact, it was the only source of comfort he could find — that, and Soo-ho’s arm on his waist, his hand on his hip. 

“Yes, he’s telling exactly that and it’s the truth.” 

“I don’t recall asking you anything, young man.” The officer replied, his eyebrows raising almost comically. “He is the victim here.”

Soo-ho bit the inside of his cheek, smiling in that way he used to when he was being provoked. 

“Just making sure you have a witness to confirm.” 

“Unfortunately, witnesses could lie, which would mean they could be accomplices.” The officer adjusted his glasses with one hand, the other holding a clipboard with the utmost boredom. “There needs to be more proof for the court to believe that what you did to that kid” He pointed at the ambulance where Young-bin was being taken care of. “was legitimate self-defense.”

The weirdest feeling took hold of Si-eun. Soo-ho’s scent spiked in anger right by his side. He felt intoxicated.

“Proof? What kinda proof do you need? How can we prove something like that?” Soo-ho raged. Si-eun knew that he only asked so many questions at once when he was nervous or scared. But Si-eun, on the other hand, was worried about something else.

“Court?” He asked, making their gazes fall on him. “There’s gonna be a trial for this?”

“Well, if you intend to press charges accusing that young man of sexually assaulting you, then yes, a further investigation will be necessary, along with the court’s decision. Most of all because you both are underage.” 

Si-eun casted his eyes downwards, feeling defeated. He should know he wouldn’t receive help from an organization such as the police. It’s not like omegas held that much power on the justice system either. Most of the judges, lawyers and prosecutors were betas or alphas. If anything, if there was ever an audience for what happened then, Si-eun would walk out of that court more damaged than before; he just knew they would find a way to somehow favor the alpha side of the story, maybe minimizing his sentence or not sending him to prison at all. 

Si-eun touched his forehead. The headache was getting worse by the second. Soo-ho’s hand on his hip crumpled into a fist and slid through his lower back, trembling.

“That’s so unfair.” Soo-ho snapped, his voice low and dangerous, almost spiky. “Is it really that hard to believe that an alpha tried to rape an omega? Isn’t that a regular occurrence over here?”

The police officer — an alpha too, what a surprise — sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m just doing my job, kid. I gotta follow the law.” He turned to Si-eun and pointed at him with his pen. Si-eun almost felt threatened, given his history. “I need to talk to your parents.”

Si-eun gulped, his eyebrows coming closer together. Soo-ho could feel his discomfort and his hand returned to its place on his body. 

“My dad’s not in town. He travels for work.” 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Not really, sir.”

“Your mother, then. Or your other father.”

“I don’t, I…” He sighed. This is truly a nightmare. “I haven’t seen my mom in ages. She doesn’t live with me and my dad.”

The officer kept staring at him, his glasses on the tip of his nose and the pen ready to write anything down on that damn clipboard. Si-eun honestly just wanted to go home. Alone. With Soo-ho, if this day still got any mercy left for him.

“Listen kid, I don’t wanna know about your family issues, alright? I just need a phone number so I can tell them what’s going on and tell them to meet us at the police station, okay? You’re underage, I can’t just let you go home without-”

“Excuse me, officer.” A deep voice interrupted them. When they looked back, Seok-dae was staring back at them with his lips sealed tight and his brows furrowed. Si-eun saw something in his eyes that told him he just might know what to do. Maybe. Hopefully. “I’m not sure if it helps, but I’m another witness. My cousin really tried to force himself on him. I saw everything.”

“If you hadn’t held me down and had actually done something then there wouldn’t be any crime to witness, you jerk!” Soo-ho bit back, his nails scratching the skin of his hands with the sharpness of razors. But Seok-dae only clicked his tongue as the officer looked back and forth between them.

“So you’re related to that boy in the ambulance?”

“Yes.” Unfortunately, he wanted to add.

“And you’re an adult. So that means you’re responsible for him.”

“Well, actually…”

“C’mon, make my job easier, please. These two are no help at all.” The man complained. Soo-ho frowned, but Si-eun didn’t feel offended in the slightest, desperate to be rescued from that interrogatory. 

“I am gonna make your job easier, actually.” Seok-dae commented, so naturally and so confidently, almost as if he was about to brag about an accomplishment. But all he did was take a transparent bag with a white powder out of his pocket, handing it to the officer along with his cellphone, open on his message app. Si-eun’s frown has never been deeper.

“What’s all this?”

“I’m a drug dealer.” He confessed. The officer blinked, his mouth agape. Si-eun and Soo-ho weren’t that much different. He said it with such tranquility, as if he was talking about the weather. So that’s where Young-bin got that heat-inducing drug from. Si-eun made the connection immediately. “And on these messages you can find-”

“Haha! Oh dear, isn’t he funny? Excuse us for a minute, officer.” Young-yi laughed nervously, smiling in a painfully fake attempt to hide that she was fuming through the ears. She pulled Seok-dae by the arm, using all of her strength in doing so. When they were far enough to be seen, but not heard, Young-yi hit Seok-dae in his chest and asked:

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice sounded a pitch higher through gritted teeth. Seok-dae sighed for the upneenth time that day, his gaze wandering above and beyond so he wouldn’t have to face her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He asked, no more cigarette smoke to cover his expression. He had thrown the last one away. When he held his eyes down again, Young-yi’s brown ones were glistening. “I’m turning myself in to the police.”

Young-yi blinked. Seok-dae could see the pained disbelief in her eyes, like treason.

“What?” Her question was weak and fading. And then it was angry and demanding. “Why?!”

“Just thought that I could join my cousin. It’ll be like a little family reunion.” He chuckled, despite the pain in his chest. The pain in his heart, along with the repetitive angry punches of her scrawny fists. Her fringe almost covered her tears. Almost.

“This isn’t funny!” She punched him again and again. He let her. They wouldn’t see each other for a long time.

“Aish… Don't cry.” Seok-dae smiled, a mix of satisfaction and sadness. As he put his big hand on her hair, he relished to think that he was well liked by someone enough to shed tears for him. “I don’t want my little sister crying around like a loser.” He ruffled her hair, his voice taking a joking tone. “Besides, you look ugly when you cry.”

Young-yi shoved his hands off her, sadness and irritation pouring in her scent. Strawberries had never been so sour, so acid and bubbly hot. Her makeup was destroyed at this point, but her red lipstick remained intact. It’s called “savannah sunset”, which means it’s a mix of orange and pink and red, but it turns out it’s just a really cool shade of red. She used to tell him those useless information all the time. Now that he was gonna spend some good time confined in the prison, he thought that they weren’t so useless after all, at least to keep him entertained.

“While I’m away, make some friends. choose wisely.” Seok-dae mumbled, feeling all sorts of weird. Sentimental talk was not his forte. “And remember, you can always visit me when you feel like it.”

Young-yi was sniffing and rubbing her eyes. If Seok-dae didn’t know her that well, he’d say she was straight up sobbing. But Young-yi was too cool — and too proud — for that.

“That’s just ridiculous, Jeon Seok-dae. This is ridiculous.” 

Seok-dae looked both ways before he took two heavy bundles from his jacket pockets. Then, he grabbed Young-yi’s hands and opened them.

“Here. Here's the money Young-bin gave me in exchange of… All this.” He had actually grabbed it in his backpack when he was unconscious, but Young-yi didn’t need to know that. “I won’t need it anymore.”

Young-yi looked at it for a moment. Two big blocks of money in her hands and she threw them on the ground as if they were nothing but rocks on her shoes. Oh, she was angry angry. Young-yi never refused money, or makeup, or Gucci bags, or any gift for that matter.

“I don’t want this stupid money, I want you to be free. Your cousin should be the only one in jail, he is the bad person!” She yelled. He could see the officer approaching them. They were running out of time.

“Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works.” The affection was obvious in his eyes as he looked at her, hating how softly his gaze landed on her running mascara. “And I’m a bad person too.”

“No you’re not! You act like you’re all tough, but you have a soft heart. You idiot!” She cried once more, but instead of punching him, she threw herself at him, hugging with uncharacteristic force. Seok-dae wrapped his arms around her tiny frame and sighed once again. She didn’t want to let go, but they would have to. And then, she asked, almost timidly:

“What about Gil-soo?”

They separated. She looked at him with fearful determination while she cleaned her eyes and cheeks from those disastrous, embarrassing tears. Can’t believe I lost my composure so easily. 

“Don’t worry about him.” Seok-dae sounded very sure of himself. “The officer has my message app, he’ll see that I’m just a subordinate. And I’ll tell them everything. The schemes, the drug dealing, the kids, the money, the address, everything. I’ll tell them everything, and Gil-soo will be arrested. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Young-yi opened her mouth once, twice, but said nothing. She was astonished, her heart beating thrice as fast and an adrenaline like she had never felt before running through her veins. 

“I know that you want to be free too. I know this is what you want, what we all want.” Seok-dae started walking, moving past her towards the policeman. “So this is what I’m gonna do. Everything ends here. You’re free.”

“Ya, Jeon Seok-dae!” Young-yi screeched, her voice high pitched and watery. But Seok-dae didn’t look back when the officer cuffed him and urged him to go to the police station. 

“Young-yi, do as I said, alright? Do as I said, and you’ll be fine.”

Young-yi found out she had a lot of tears left to cry. She crouched and grabbed the money Seok-dae gave her. Those boys were all being scouted to the police station, but she figured she was allowed to go now, wherever she wanted, even if it was just to process everything that had happened by herself. Be free. What was it like to be free? Go back to school? Make up with her parents? Be friends with whoever she wanted, go wherever she wanted, do whatever she wanted?

She almost wanted to smile. She wouldn’t have to report to a man who made her scared to death. She wouldn’t have to witness anymore violence now. She even had money to buy all the jajamyeon and all the sunset lipsticks she wanted.

Jeon Seok-dae. You’re a good person. Deep down, I know. You are.

By the time they left the police station, it was dark. The encounter with the policemen had left them disappointed and drained. All three of them had to give testimony, along with Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon, although Si-eun was sure they didn’t confess their wrongdoings and lied until they were free to go. The two other boys vanished, just like Young-yi, and Si-eun felt a little relieved by that; he thought that station was crowded enough with the amount of officers freaking out over the crime chief that Seok-dae had turned in so gratuitously. 

To make matters worse, there were several calls from Young-bin’s mother. She was extremely shaken and refused to believe her son had done such terrible things. Si-eun wondered if she hadn’t learned anything the last time Young-bin was at a hospital; the heat-inducing drug was not strong enough to convince her, apparently, and even with all those very much earned bruises, her baby boy still could do no wrong. Si-eun refused to speak to her when the officer got closer with his phone, the voice of that woman coming off like a screech. The only time he opened his mouth was when Soo-ho got out of the interrogation room and he was given permission to tell his side of the story.

It went on faster than he was expecting, maybe even hoping for. The officer asked if he wanted to press charges against Jeon Young-bin, and Si-eun spent a good minute thinking about it. The policeman back in the empty lot had discouraged him a lot; just imagining the difficult process and the time it’d take made him tired. He’d have to speak to lawyers, worry about court hearings and whether Young-bin’s sentence would be justified. Just thinking about it made his headache triplicate. The worst of all that, however, was the fact that he would have to tell his parents about what happened. He would have to tell them, and he didn’t know how they would react.

His father, with his nonchalance that bordered on alienation. His mother, ever so worried about her perfect reputation, rigid and cold and unreachable. Would they welcome him with open arms after such violence? Or would he be violated even further by their rejection, by their disgust? Si-eun honestly didn’t know. 

Besides, he had to study. He couldn’t study properly worried about legal matters. 

Even if he wanted Young-bin to face justice, even if he wouldn’t enjoy nothing more than seeing Young-bin rotting in jail for as long as the judge would deem it fair. He could imagine himself visiting him in prison and saying how the world outside looked after so much time, and telling him that he didn’t deserve to see it — alphas like him deserved to stay locked up forever. The thought of it alone gave Si-eun strength to say yes and deal with the consequences.

But he took too long to answer. The officer grumbled about it, and Si-eun could feel his sweaty hands give away his nervousness. Yes or no? The easy way out or the hard one? Would he feel better if he was avenged? Or would it be best to just forget about it and let it go?

Before he could decide for himself, the door opened. A man in a suit entered the room, his pale skin, jet black hair and glasses making him seem like a character straight out of an espionage movie. Si-eun was surprised to find Beom-seok by his side; he looked nervous, but not in the way he did earlier that day while trying to strike a conversation with Si-eun; he looked terrified, just waiting for an impending doom. 

The man said something to the officer, which made him leave the room. Si-eun frowned as he sat down in front of him, making a sign for Beom-seok to sit on the vacant chair by Si-eun’s side. He didn’t know what was going on, but it was suspicious. 

“I spoke with the chief of police.” The man started. No introductions, no courtesies. He had no smell whatsoever, which meant he was probably on scent blockers or suppressants. Truly out of an espionage movie, Si-eun thought. “They won’t say anything to the school or your families. Nothing ever happened. None of you have anything to do with this case.”

Si-eun swallowed dryly, feeling odd. He was relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about trials or the justice legal system, but at the same time, he felt like a silenced victim. Didn’t what he had to say matter? Didn’t the bruises on his hand and on his wrists say anything at all? 

“What?” He caught himself asking. The man turned to him, breathing slowly through his nose as if he was already fed up with dealing with them.

“Jeon Young-bin will be dealt with, don’t worry about it.”

Si-eun blinked. So is it that simple?

“The law is pretty… Delicate, when it comes to underage alphas and their violations. Even if Young-bin went to prison, though, his mother already told everyone in this station that she’s determined to pay any fee to take him out of it, no matter how much cash she has to pull out of her pocket. A trial would just make everything even more complicated.”

Si-eun frowned, feeling his lips turning into a pout. He was right; Young-bin’s family had money, maybe not enough to bribe a judge, but enough to make an underage boy get out of prison sooner than he should. Si-eun almost let out a humorless laugh; that mental crisis he just had wasn’t necessary at all.

“But the boy is troublesome.” The man continued. He pursed his lips and joined his hands on the surface of the table. He seemed to be contemplating something. “He was too spoiled and faced no consequences for his actions for too long. Now, he’s getting dangerous. You did well stopping him. With his mutilated scent gland, he’ll have a hard time relying on his alpha privileges from now on. Which means he’ll think twice before doing something like what he tried to do today.”

Si-eun shivered involuntarily. His eyes were burning from inside, a vibration pouring from his skull. He took a deep breath before asking:

“So Young-bin won’t be punished?” He sounded heartbroken even to his own ears. The man simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Of course he will. Didn’t you listen to any word I said? A boy like him can’t go without facing another consequence.” He answered straight away. Si-eun puffed out a heavy breath. “The most we can do, however, is send him to a reformatory. They’re very rigid security-wise, and I’m sure his mother will accept it eventually. We’ll also get a restraining order, so he won’t be allowed to stay within a few meters from you. You won’t have to deal with him again.”

Si-eun pondered for a minute. A restraining order and a reformatory. It sounded too light of a sentence. But then again, it wouldn’t be worth it if Young-bin got out of prison so quickly, as he likely would. The prospect of never seeing him again was alluring, almost seductively so. Si-eun was a little irritated to find that he didn’t mind that conclusion all that much if he got to go home and forget all about that day, all about Jeon Young-bin. If that was the verdict, then so be it; he hadn’t touched him like he wanted to, he hadn’t gone that far, and that was what consoled him. 

“Alright.” Si-eun murmured. His voice was hoarse and weak. He just wanted to go home. “That’s fine by me.”

“Great.” The man answered. There was no way to find out whether he was an alpha, beta or omega, but regardless of that, he was intimidating. His smile was a bit cynical when he dismissed him. “You can go home now, Si-eun.”

Si-eun didn’t say anything, neither did he nod. He grabbed his empty backpack and walked to the door. He turned his head to the side to look at Beom-seok, who was searching for his gaze. He shot him a pursed lip smile, and that was enough for the beta, who understood that as some sort of truce; he had told Soo-ho where he was and had even retrieved his bag for him amongst the burning papers. If he hadn’t looked out for Soo-ho, something much worse could’ve happened. And for that, despite everything, Si-eun was grateful. 

He figured he should thank him some other time. Now, he was waiting outside the police station for Soo-ho to bring his motorbike, which was parked on another street. The alpha had practically escorted him out of the station as if he were his bodyguard. He had also scented him again after he left the interrogation room, telling him that he felt worried when he wasn’t by his side or on his line of view. Typically, Si-eun would repress such exaggerated displays of affection, but after that chaotic afternoon, he told himself he didn’t mind. 

When Soo-ho came back with his motorbike, Si-eun found himself fighting a knowing smile. He had been away for less than two minutes. I’m worried when you’re out of my sight. He must’ve sped up tremendously. Si-eun couldn’t deny the fondness in his heart any longer. Seeing his black straight hair disheveled by the chilly night air was a beautiful view. 

Soo-ho jumped out of his seat to grab the red helmet. When he walked up to Si-eun, he took his time to examine him a bit. His right hand came to rest on his cheek, his eyes searching for any more bruises, any sign of fear or doubt. Si-eun felt the extremely big urge to wrap himself on his embrace and inhale his scent directly from the source. He almost purred at the prospect of doing so, but figured it shouldn’t be done in front of a police station. 

“So…” Soo-ho started. His voice was low, and Si-eun thought he looked a little sheepish. How adorable. “Do you want to go home?”

Si-eun just looked at him. He wasn’t sure if Soo-ho was aware, but he had a very magnetic stare. Si-eun felt drawn to his face, his eyes fixated on the apples of his cheeks and the brightness of his skin like he was hypnotized. Perhaps it was because Soo-ho saw him as well; he, who was so used to being invisible. Soo-ho saw him, and he understood him with a single glance. Their eyes pulled each other like magnets. And when Soo-ho looked at him, he smiled knowingly, pulling his helmet over his head.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

Home. Us. We. Going home.

As he wrapped his arms tightly around Soo-ho’s waist and rested his head on his back, Si-eun felt warm even with the cold wind blasting on his skin. 

It was early in the night when they got to Si-eun’s apartment. It was dimly lit and purely functional, just like Soo-ho remembered, and he felt a little nostalgic. When Si-eun turned on the lights of his room, Soo-ho was expecting to find the bed made up as a nest; but alas, it was just a regular bed, for a regular omega who was definitely not in heat anymore. 

Si-eun threw his empty backpack haphazardly on the ground. The carelessness of it was a telltale of his exhaustion. Soo-ho didn’t need to ask why it was empty; as if everything he did wasn’t already enough, Young-bin had also burned all his papers and notebooks. Soo-ho felt the urge to go to the hospital he was staying at and finish him off. For what it was worth, Si-eun’s scent was no longer filled with anxiety and fear. It wasn’t intoxicatingly sweet like he remembered, but it was comforting like something Soo-ho could call home. That’s how he knew that Si-eun felt safe.

The smaller boy went to the bathroom and returned with two towels. There was a different kind of light in his eyes, but Soo-ho couldn’t quite tell what it meant. Si-eun extended one towel to him, his cheeks feeling impossibly puffier.

“It’s getting late. You should stay the night.” He said it in a matter-of-factly tone, but Soo-ho liked to think he knew him well at this point. There was a tinge of red in his face that wasn’t there before, and Soo-ho was unable to fight a loving smile. He felt warmth blooming from inside. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and you can follow next. I’d lend you some clean clothes, but they probably… Hm… They probably wouldn’t fit.”

The redness in his cheeks triplicated. Soo-ho chuckled, grabbing the towel with a languid touch on Si-eun’s fingers. He’s the cutest person in the entire world.

“You’re right. They wouldn’t fit.” Soo-ho smiled. Although my clothes would fit you quite nicely. The image was a broken record in his mind. 

Si-eun didn’t say anything after that; if his cheeks could get any redder they would probably melt and decay. He picked up a change of clothes and locked himself up in the bathroom for about five minutes. Soo-ho should’ve known Si-eun was very specific about time much like he was for everything else. He figured they both needed to spend more time in the shower, if only to take every remains of what happened that afternoon from their skin, but Soo-ho understood Si-eun’s intentions; he wanted to go to sleep quickly and forget about it. He wanted to close his eyes and succumb to tiredness so the next day wouldn’t feel like an impossible chore. He wanted to disappear.

The thought accompanied Soo-ho throughout his own cleaning, and he wished they could somehow erase their memories. He wished Si-eun didn’t feel desperate to get on his bed and sleep through his pain. He wished he could study in peace. Which reminded him, didn’t Si-eun have cram school tonight?

Soo-ho puffed out his cheeks as he dried himself up. He also had work tonight, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Si-eun was more important. Si-eun’s wellbeing would always come first, no matter how many times he had to make Miss Choi mad at him. 

When Soo-ho got out of the bathroom, Si-eun was sitting on his bed with a first aid kit by his side. Soo-ho tilted his head, feeling puzzled. Si-eun seemed to be waiting for him, for he suddenly shifted his weight and adjusted his posture when he realized his presence.

“Didn’t know you had a first aid kit.” Soo-ho commented, his right arm flexing alluringly while he dried his hair. Si-eun felt that uncomfortable warmth spread through his abdomen, the pleasant sensation seeming a bit blasphemous.

“I’ve never really needed it before…” His voice trailed in search of a word, but they both knew what he wanted to say. Si-eun cleaned his throat. “It’s old. I had to search while you were in the bathroom.” 

Soo-ho sat down on the bed, the towel resting on his shoulders. His eyes landed on Si-eun’s red and swollen right hand, and he caught himself swallowing through his burning throat. His eyes were stinging.

“If you want, I can-”

“Let me do it first.” Soo-ho interrupted him. Si-eun looked at him with his wide, shining eyes, looking like a lost deer. Soo-ho smiled sadly at him.

“What?”

“You can’t take care of me with a hand like that, can you? Silly.” Soo-ho let out a huff, making the hair of Si-eun’s fringe reveal a bit of his forehead. Soo-ho got on his knees on the ground before the omega could protest, and he grabbed whatever he deemed necessary to clean his wound. Gauze. Antiseptic. Cotton. Easy enough; being trained in MMA, he had done that before, although he was generally on the other side, receiving help.

Si-eun didn’t protest. Even if others would deem him intimidating and cold, he was easy going, not difficult to please and certainly not difficult to get along with. Sure, there had been some misunderstandings between them, but Soo-ho would take an angry and cranky Si-eun over anyone else. 

He grabbed his hand gently, afraid to hurt him even more. It had red and purple bruises, a few scratches and was slightly swollen, but thankfully, it wasn’t broken. He grabbed a cotton ball and drenched it in antiseptic, pressing it gently to the cuts and bruises. The blood had already dried, but the cotton wool slowly turned redder as it cleaned the damaged skin. 

Soo-ho thought he should grab ice for the swelling, although his main concern was to protect the tissue. He started to carefully wrap it up in gauze, and as he did so, he noticed something he hadn’t really paid attention to before. Si-eun has very nice hands. Beautiful, just like him. 

They were soft, and that was something he had enjoyed touching, but they had their own set of calluses. Si-eun spent most of his day with a pen between his fingers, writing and writing and writing. He figured studying was also some sort of physical labor, along with the intellectual work; it shouldn’t be easy to spend so much time sitting and gathering up information. He truly was a little genius.

When he was finished, he got up to fetch some ice, but Si-eun grabbed the tip of his finger, begging him with his eyes to stay. Soo-ho let out a deep, powerful sigh when he said:

“It’s your turn now. Sit.”

The thing about Si-eun was that, no matter how easy going he was, he was stubborn and had a one track mind. Soo-ho supposed it was the only way someone could study so much to the point of being the first place in every academic matter. He knew he couldn’t contest, and so he just sat down where Si-eun had previously been and watched as he clumsily handled the antiseptic cotton balls and brought them to the cuts on his hands. 

Si-eun’s brows were furrowed as he worked, and Soo-ho would give his last dime for his thoughts. In truth, Si-eun couldn’t help but feel an ache in his heart as he looked at Soo-ho’s hands; it was the second time he got hurt because of him. The scratches of the last fight he had with Young-bin were now healed, but the scars were black and scattered across his skin. The new ones were like a colorful pattern, the blood leaving trails of violence and blemishing whatever was left. Si-eun felt guilty, strangely so, and he didn’t know if it was worth it; if he was worth it.

“This is the first time I’m skipping cram school.” He whispered, as if they had to keep quiet. Being the only ones in the apartment, Si-eun’s confession sounded like an echo. He wasn’t known to disguise his discomfort with rambling, but then again, he had never been in a situation such as that one before. “I guess Young-bin’s indirect plan was to make my grades fall.”

Soo-ho’s breath faltered. Si-eun wasn’t looking at him, but his hand trembled slightly on his hold.

“Let’s not talk about him anymore.” He answered. His voice sounded gruff and contained. Si-eun looked up for a second, but Soo-ho was staring at the closed window. He got back to cleaning the wounds, his lips pursed in frustration.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said it so quietly that his words were almost silenced by the noise of the bandaids being unwrapped. 

“Don’t say sorry. I told you I don’t like that.” Soo-ho mumbled. Si-eun felt compelled to apologize again, but settled for applying the bandaids on the most prominent wounds. He heard it from where he was kneeling what seemed to be a sharp inhale. Soo-ho’s breathing had been uneven for a while now, as if he had been losing strength or fighting to keep his composure. Si-eun had finished cleaning his bruises, but he found it difficult to let go of his hands. His fingers were holding Soo-ho’s like a lifeline. And it happened suddenly, as simple as it looked, but nothing could have prepared Si-eun for the rush of feelings that swept through his body as a single tear fell down on their joint skin. 

Si-eun looked up, his own eyes glistening. He could feel his heart pounding a mile per minute and he had to take a deep breath before asking:

“Soo-ho, why are you crying?”

The alpha was staring down at him with trembling lips, tearful waterfalls running through both his cheeks until it converged on his chin, falling on his injured hands. As if reality had finally dawned on him, he blinked, more drops of salty water pouring through his eyelashes, and he took one of his hands out of Si-eun’s touch, wiping his eyes.

“Oh.” He said slowly, his reaction a reflex of his internal struggle. “I didn’t notice.”

Si-eun had never seen him so vulnerable, so utterly heartbroken; his scent was the weirdest he had ever smelled, and he found out he had never seen Soo-ho truly sad. It made sense, since they didn’t know each other for that long, but Si-eun wondered if that was of any importance. Time was merely an illusion when Si-eun and Soo-ho had gone through so much together; to see each other cry was only natural, he supposed. And it was no news for him to discover that Soo-ho looked just as handsome crying as he did doing anything else. Si-eun’s hands itched to wipe his tears himself, and he realized that he had some tears of his own on the corner of his eyes, just waiting to fall. 

“It’s just that…” Soo-ho began, his arm covering his eyes, but failing to hide the way his teeth clung to his lower lip. His cheeks were red and wet. “I keep trying… I keep trying to forget about what happened, but… When I remember what he did to you…” His voice cracked, turning high pitched and dry, fading as he took another deep breath. When he lowered his arm, his eyes were still shining with droplets of water. “When I remember what he was trying to do, when I remember his hands on you, what he… What he tried to-” He sniffled loudly, losing every discretion he had left. He bit his closed fist, the pressure keeping him grounded. Smaller hands on his tights were trying to comfort him with soothing touches, but to no avail. “And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t be there for you until the last second, and he still got away. I couldn’t do anything and I feel so useless, so… So… I couldn’t protect you and you got hurt because of me.” 

Si-eun swallowed his saliva feeling like he was choking on his blood. You got hurt because of me. Si-eun couldn’t quite believe it. Soo-ho felt the same way as he did. It was a sweet sort of irony, but it didn’t offer Si-eun much relief. It only made him feel depressed.

“That’s not true!” He insisted, his fingers crumpling and creasing the cloth of Soo-ho’s pants, scratching his skin right through it. “Soo-ho, I’m fine. Really.”

“No, you’re not fine!” He snapped, finally looking directly into his eyes. Soo-ho had never looked so outrageously bewildered, a mix of disbelief and anger painting his features. “I can see it in your eyes, in your body, you’re not fine. How could you be fine?”

“I’m not.” Si-eun then confessed, feeling overwhelmed by the same feelings as the alpha in front of him. It was another effect he didn’t know he had over him. “But I will be. Do you know why?” His right hand traveled up his arm until it reached his wet cheeks, rubbing it gently. His other hand did the same right after, until Soo-ho was cocooned by his graceful hold. “Because I have you.” Si-eun managed to show him a weak smile. “And you have me.”

Soo-ho didn’t bother to contain his tears anymore. His hand came to rest on Si-eun’s tender wrists, rubbing gentle circles on it as they held each other’s shiny gaze. Soo-ho opened his mouth once, twice, but no sound came out of it. Normally Si-eun would ask right away, but he decided to be patient for once and let Soo-ho take his time. What he said was worth a thousand years of waiting, he soon found out.

“Si-eun-ah.” He began, his voice slurred and hoarse like he had smoked a cigarette, his hand tightening around his wrists. Si-eun felt a gush of wind pass through him and every single hair on his skin rose on the spot. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for some time now. But I told myself I should be strong and wait for the right moment, or rather, I told myself that it was too soon.”

Si-eun’s heart was beating through his ribs as if it wanted to escape its cage. His mouth opened in a silent surprise, the moisture in his eyes blurring his vision. It was suddenly difficult to breathe.

“But I don’t wanna wait anymore. I don’t think I can.” Soo-ho confessed, his tearful gaze the most truthful Si-eun had ever seen. He couldn’t doubt that boy for one moment. Reality had never been so delightful. “Si-eun-ah, I don’t think I can be strong anymore. I don’t think I can resist this anymore.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Si-eun whispered immediately, the words sounding like a breathless plea.

“Don’t I?” 

“No.” He chuckled. “Because I don’t think I can resist it either.”

Soo-ho got down, Si-eun got up. Their lips met. 

It was a rush of energy like no other. Si-eun felt high on endorphins, his toes curling as Soo-ho’s lips brushed on his. It was light and timid at first, but soon enough Soo-ho’s hands were on his waist, pulling him up with ridiculous strength until he was sitting on his lap. Their lips never disconnected, not even once, and as Soo-ho’s fingers found their way on his hair, tangling in between the strands, Si-eun let out the most embarrassing sound, which only spurred Soo-ho further. The growl he let out, low and animalistic, only proved to him what an omega’s purr could do. And so he kept on purring, not sure if his body was doing it on purpose or not; his body was not his own anymore, his hands resting on Soo-ho’s neck and then his hair, his mouth moving ferociously until Soo-ho’s lips parted and their tongues met, messy and wet and perfect. 

If that was a dream, Si-eun didn’t want to wake up. Soo-ho was so warm around him, his weight so nice as he held him on his lap, his hands big and strong caressing his body in ways that made tingles run up his spine. He was a tender and soft creature willingly submitting to Soo-ho’s experienced tongue, absorbing his touches like a life elixir and melting under his ministrations. It was heaven. Soo-ho was his heavenly paradise. And all the while, as the noise of their lips smacking made him red from head to toe, he couldn’t help but think, what an amazing first kiss.

His disappointment was immeasurable when they had to part for air. Si-eun almost mewled like a spoiled child — or like a distressed kitten. Soo-ho touched his cheek and his thumb wiped the tears he hadn’t even realized he had cried. And he felt the need to kiss him again, kiss him all over, kiss him until they both died from lack of oxygen. Si-eun wouldn’t mind dying for such a noble cause; he’d die rather happily in Soo-ho’s arms, with Soo-ho’s wonderful lips on his. When Soo-ho sniffed and cleaned his own tears, his expression didn’t seem quite so sad anymore. There was a light in his eyes that reflected Si-eun’s own newfound sense of purpose, of happiness and meaning.

“Our first kiss and I’m all covered in tears and snot.” Soo-ho chuckled. “That can’t be right.”

“It’s fine. You’ve seen me at my most disgusting too.” Si-eun bit the inside of his cheeks. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he had more interesting things in mind. Soo-ho, on the other hand, put a hand to his heart and gasped playfully.

“How dare you call yourself disgusting?” He frowned in the most adorable “fake angry” face he could muster. Si-eun would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so hypnotized by the way his lips were red and swollen from kissing. “You’re the most beautiful magical wonderful thing in the world. You just wait until I get my shit together.”

“Can’t wait.” Si-eun bit his lower lip, the omega inside him feeling insatiable. “I truly can’t wait.” 

They kissed again, this time entirely by Si-eun’s own volition. His hands went straight to Soo-ho’s smooth hair, tangling and scratching the skin of his scalp. Soo-ho let out the most delightful sound deep in his throat, and Si-eun couldn’t help but purr again; if omegan sounds had so much effect on alphas, then the masculine and scratchy growling of their kind was a nuisance to omegas as well. Si-eun involuntarily tightened his legs around Soo-ho’s thighs, feeling hot and sensitive. Soo-ho hugged him snuggly to his chest, and as their kiss deepened, tongues playing and suckling, he lowered their bodies until they were lying on the bed, Si-eun on top of him as he had dreamed about many times before. 

His hands were trembling when he set them firmly on the omega’s hips; they were small, but also strong and perfect to the touch. Si-eun gasped when he gripped it with a little more force, and he soothed the area apologetically. Soo-ho blinked strongly as flashes of that afternoon appeared in his mind again, and as if he could fight the strong feeling in his chest, he released Si-eun’s lips, not bothering to swallow his whimpers of disappointment. Said whimpers were transformed to little moans as Soo-ho’s lips found their way to Si-eun’s neck, kissing the gorgeous column of his discreet adam’s apple and the tender skin of his scent gland. 

He trailed a line of kisses and was delighted to learn that Si-eun enjoyed the open mouthed ones more than the simple pecks. He decided to take that fact to the extreme, and when he reached the boy’s bony collarbone, he kissed it roughly and abruptly, sucking on the pale skin until Si-eun tightened his grip on his hair, a loud moan escaping his lips as the skin bruised a reddish purple.

When Soo-ho looked at his most recent work of art, the mark of his ardent kiss adorning Si-eun’s skin in colored flesh, he felt proud. But he also felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of all the times he had felt dread in his life. It made him feel chilly and uncomfortable, almost as if he didn’t deserve to be there, doing such things with Yeon Si-eun of all people. After everything they went through, it was like Soo-ho was just an empty shell. 

When Si-eun’s hands gently cradled his cheeks and turned his head up to face him, his vision was blurred again. And he felt horrible

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, blinking his tears away. “I’m just-”

“You can cry as much as you want, I don't mind.” Si-eun answered. He had moisty eyes too, both from pleasure and from the amount of sensations he was handling for the first time. “When I needed it, you took care of me. You cooked for me, you bathed me, you listened to my concerns, you’ve let me cry on your shoulder.” His hands wiped Soo-ho’s flowy tears gently until they were just caressing the skin lovingly. Si-eun rested his forehead on Soo-ho’s, their eyes so close and their scents mingling, as it should be. “It's only fair that I do the same.”

Soo-ho’s hands shook on Si-eun’s lower back, their hug so tight and close that they might’ve as well merged together. Soo-ho’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his cries, and Si-eun wanted to lick it.

“But you need comfort now too.” Came the alpha’s voice a few moments later, sounding regretful. “I should be the one comforting you, and keeping you safe. You need me to be reliable and I’m just… Crying and being pathetic.”

“You don’t need to be reliable all the time. You’re not a god, neither a machine, you’re just an alpha.” Si-eun smiled lovingly. “I, for one, can be a strong, reliable omega for you too.”

Si-eun moved from Soo-ho’s forehead only to press a kiss to it. Soo-ho chuckled, a smile full of teeth, delighted.

“I know you can.” He answered fondly, his fingers caressing his back through his t-shirt. 

They stood embraced for quite a while. Si-eun was glad to find that Soo-ho’s lap was a very comfortable place to be in. But he also discovered that seeing the alpha cry brought him immense anguish; he kept running his fingers through his damp hair, other times caressing his scalp or touching his cheeks. None of them said anything for a good while. They just hugged, shared careful, yet loving touches, Si-eun even stole a kiss or two. Their lips were never that far apart, and they were a special source of relief for their heated flesh. 

They didn’t know how much time had passed, until Soo-ho sniffled one last time, bringing Si-eun’s attention back.

“Si-eun-ah.” He murmured. The tone of his voice sent involuntary shivers down Si-eun’s spine, as if he had been hit by lightning. The boy pretended nothing happened as he answered him, although the sentence sounded too soft for his liking.

“Yes, Soo-ho?”

“You know I would do it all again, don't you?” He tilted his head, their foreheads coming together once more. Soo-ho’s eyes were so dark and bright, like the moon. Si-eun felt like he held all the air in his lungs. 

“Because I would.” He went on. I want to do it again, for as long as the world turns around and around. “In a heartbeat. Anytime you need.”

Si-eun pressed his forehead against his even harder, the ghost of a smile painting his features.

“I know.” He leaned in to catch Soo-ho’s lips in a languid kiss. “I know.”

Soo-ho had stopped crying eventually. Si-eun would’ve liked to say they kissed and fondled all night, but at some point they had passed out from exhaustion. When Si-eun woke up again, it was still pitch black outside. He could feel the dried salt down to his neck, and frowned, unaware that he had shed so many tears. He hated how frequently he had been crying lately, but oddly enough, a huge part of him kind of liked it. The tears wetting his entire face, the palpable redness of the blood in his cheeks, the headache, liquid pouring out of his nose, the disgust of it, the beauty of it, the rawness of it. It was awful. He felt so relieved after it. And Soo-ho didn’t try to stop his tears this time, didn’t beg him to hide his sorrow merely because he couldn’t stand it. He cried with him — hell, he cried first —, drowned in his misery with him. They had seen each other at yet another difficult time, held each other for warmth, connected once more. It was heaven amidst hell on Earth. Wasn’t that what love was all about? 

I was avoiding saying that word, Si-eun thought. But that’s the only word that comes to mind. The only word possible.

Well, Si-eun thought once again, when he took a deep breath and managed to sit up, his head pounding and heavy and pulsing and hurting; who would’ve thought I could feel the way that I feel. That I could feel so much. 

There were so many parts of him now. He couldn’t recognize himself anymore. So much anger and pride. So many wishes and desires. He wished to be held in Soo-ho’s arms. He wished to be held at gunpoint. He wished to hold the gun. There were so many sides of him. The chocolate. The coffee. The Books. Three scents. That makes sense. Si-eun had always been an overachiever. 

But even with all the pain of that afternoon still fresh in his mind and in his body, he could feel the phantom of Soo-ho’s lips on his own, his kisses burning his skin with passion, erupting every cell in pleasurable tingles. His touch alone was able to heal him from all the impurities, all the profanities. Si-eun was a bit embarrassed to admit to himself, but he was addicted to that feeling, to that adrenaline pumping through his veins. He wanted to have Soo-ho imprinted on his body forever, his soul yearning for him and wondering how he had managed to live so many years without him by his side. It was maddening, and Si-eun loved it.

He chuckled at his ridiculousness. The headache was like a warning for him to keep it down, although he didn’t want to listen. He checked the clock; 11 pm. They had arrived at his apartment at about 6:45 pm. Soo-ho would really have to stay the night — not that he was complaining, no, not at all. 

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and picked up some aspirin. He didn’t go that far and neither did he take too long, but when he returned to his room, Soo-ho was wide awake, his gaze fixed on the door waiting for him to pass by it. Si-eun could be startled if he wasn’t somehow waiting for him to do so; alphas were territorial and protective over who they cared about, maybe he had sensed his absence the minute he stepped out of the bed. It was a rather exciting thought to Si-eun’s omegan mind, blind by the salivating need to stick his fangs on Soo-ho’s neck. 

“Wondering why I abandoned you?” Si-eun joked, or at least he hoped it had been funny; he was never good with that stuff. But Soo-ho smirked, his humor very much understood. 

“Wondering when you’d come back to bed.” He replied, his voice slurred from sleep. Si-eun felt those tingles all over again, disturbing his peace. He felt like he was melting butter on Soo-ho’s hands, and he almost purred when he returned to his place on Soo-ho’s lap, lying on top of him like he weighed nothing at all. 

Si-eun felt the tips of his fingers hurt pleasantly when Soo-ho kissed him. His lips were soft against his chapped ones, but Si-eun’s were bigger, perfect for Soo-ho to bite and pull. His hands trembled as they settled on Soo-ho’s broad shoulders, the alpha’s big hands warm against his waist, playfully tugging at the base of his shirt. And suddenly, wildly, Si-eun felt like taking it off altogether. 

Should he let Soo-ho know? Should he let him know that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off him from now on? That this has completely shifted their relationship and now he needed him like he needed air to survive? Should he tell him that his kisses were mandatory now? That the feeling of his lips against his skin was like nothing he had ever felt in his entire life. That he burned, ached for him, a desire that had erupted and was now unstoppable. 

He felt a little shameful with the strength of his passion. As Soo-ho’s kisses progressed, his tongue doing wonders in his mouth, and then on his neck, and then on his collarbone, Si-eun felt like a flower opening up to his will. Even so, whenever Soo-ho’s expert hands got too close to the base of his shirt or the hem of his sweatpants, he trembled uncomfortably. The thought of him taking off any of his clothes was dreadful to him, made his heart beat faster than lightning. And he hated to think that something so delightful as the caresses they shared could be tainted by what had happened. 

Soo-ho didn’t seem to catch his change of thought, lost in the feel of Si-eun’s now moist lips, the bittersweet taste of his skin. He maneuvered them until he was on top of Si-eun, the smaller male moaning softly as he was pressed between Soo-ho’s hard chest and the softness of his bedsheets. His hands flew from his shoulders to his neck, and Soo-ho was feeling too good to not be bold. He scratched the skin of Si-eun’s abdomen beneath his shirt, going so far as to touch his chest, and Si-eun gasped frighteningly, interrupting their kiss. Soo-ho retrieved his hand carefully.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, pecking Si-eun’s lips in an apologetic kiss. Si-eun felt comforted immediately, the fear barely a memory. “I’m sorry puppy, I’m sorry.” Soo-ho kissed his cheeks, then his eyelids, then his forehead, then his nose. Si-eun felt light and dreamy, his hands grabbing Soo-ho’s arms as he looked up at him lovingly. “I didn’t know you were sensitive.”

Si-eun didn’t answer, but as soon as his eyes dropped, Soo-ho pursed his lips, feeling that old anger sprout in his heart like poisonous weed.

“He hurt you there, didn’t he? I forgot.” He bit the inside of his cheek. Si-eun only nodded, but tried to return to their previous activities, eager to have Soo-ho closer. 

But Soo-ho had something else in mind. He wondered if that was the best thing to do, but couldn’t imagine leaving that apartment without taking a closer look, without showing to Si-eun just how much he cared. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, looking at Si-eun deep in his gorgeous eyes. His answer didn’t take even a second.

“Yes.”

Soo-ho kissed him again. Once, twice. Showered him with kisses until he was tired. And then he lowered his hands, pulling Si-eun’s white t-shirt up very slowly, in case he asked for him to stop. But Si-eun kept quiet, looking up at him with curious and hesitant eyes. Soo-ho could see the way his hands grabbed the sheets involuntarily. He was uncomfortable, but he endured it all for Soo-ho without even knowing what he was about to do. Soo-ho felt his love for him deepen. 

Si-eun’s belly was entirely bruised, an ugly mix of purple, red and blue. Young-bin had kicked hard, almost made him vomit. Soo-ho swallowed his urge to scream. Si-eun’s belly — Si-eun’s precious belly, the one he had rubbed so lovingly, the one that could nourish and shelter life just from one single seed, his beautiful belly was hurt, and colored by violence. Soo-ho felt the tears threatening to spill all over again, but refused to let them fall. Instead, he dropped his head low and kissed that lovely skin until all it could remember was his touch, and his touch alone. 

Si-eun shivered underneath him, and he let out a small whimper that he tried to repress by biting his lips. The contrast of Soo-ho’s humid lips on his tender flesh was bizarrely nice, and Si-eun started to wonder if he had a secret pain kink. Or maybe Soo-ho’s lips were just too talented, making even the most sensitive spots tingle from the delicacy of his kisses. His lips traced him all over like he was a map, and Si-eun felt like he was being tattooed, his token of love burning from outside and finding its place within him. His nipples were erect, his breath was failing him and he wanted to succumb to his moans and begs. Only Soo-ho could make him feel this way, so enamored, so drunk, so deranged. 

When Soo-ho stopped, Si-eun let out a timid cry. Soo-ho cooed at him, and whispered something in his ear that made his toes curl and his spine snap with shivers. He put his shirt down as Si-eun wrapped his nails sharply on his shoulders, looking at him through hazed eyes. Soo-ho would never tell him — he’d die before he said anything like that, ever — but Si-eun looked straight out of an erotic dream. 

“If I ever see him again,” Soo-ho started, his words a careful whisper, his breath swatting Si-eun’s fringe and making him battle his eyelashes. “I’m going to kill him.” 

Si-eun’s fingers tightened on Soo-ho’s biceps immediately. He let out an excited breath that made his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly be aroused by an angry possessive territorial Soo-ho, could he? Well, Soo-ho’s smirk seemed to bore into his soul as he licked a stripe from his jawline to the sensitive skin behind his left ear, making him moan in response. You don’t hide your pleasure very well, pup. He had whispered. It was true. It was embarrassingly true. His warm breath tickling him had been just a bonus for his reaction.

Si-eun wouldn’t mind if they stayed like that through the rest of the night. He wouldn’t mind if they stayed like that forever. Soo-ho’s weight pressed into his body, his experienced mouth kissing him over and over. He could feel the excitement being born on his lower body and traveling all up to his fingertips; the mixture of their scents smelling of arousal, humid and wet like a sauna, their hearts beating in an intoxicating rhythm. It was too good, too much. Soo-ho trailed his mouth under his jawline, on the spot where his neck met his shoulder, on the other side of his collarbone. He was painting him like a white canvas, and Si-eun just let him. He sighed, and pulled his hair, and moaned as he just let him do whatever he wanted. His body was truly not his own anymore; all he wanted to do was to kiss and be kissed, to have Soo-ho’s teeth pulling at his lower lip and making him want to beg for more, to beg for his bigger hands to manhandle him and have him at his mercy. Tonight and forever. 

Si-eun didn’t know for how long they kissed. His jaw was getting tired of so much movement, his lips were starting to ache. Yet he felt like he could do that for hours on end, with no interruption. Air had never been such a terrible nuisance. 

Soo-ho’s hands were tickling his sides and his lips were buried in the crook of his neck when they heard a noise. Soo-ho froze above him as if they had been caught by camera flashes, but Si-eun still felt a bit disoriented. The noise became more insistent and it was then that they both recognized it: it was the electronic security device. The door was opening. There was someone entering the apartment. Someone else there with them.

Soo-ho jumped to his feet and Si-eun followed through, although much more clumsily. Soo-ho put his arm in front of him and told him to stay behind, as if they were approaching dangerous territory. Soo-ho was thinking of a thousand possibilities at once. Did someone follow us? Did one of those bastards decide to catch us vulnerable? Is there another alpha outside? A thousand thoughts per second and he felt his protective urges on high alert. 

But Si-eun, though, was worried for completely different reasons. He tried to cover his hickey-covered neck to no avail, feeling mortified. There’s only two other people who own the key to this apartment. Mom, and-

The door opened. Soo-ho licked his fangs involuntarily, and Si-eun’s eyes widened.

“Dad?”

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER SEVEN — OBVIOUS ALREADY

…

Si-eun’s father hadn’t changed much since the last time they saw each other. His smooth dark brown hair parted in the middle of his forehead like it always did; his beard was shaven just enough to look presentable, and he still smelled like the most chill, nonchalant man in existence. But in those weeks he’d been away, Si-eun felt like a completely different person, and thus, like they hadn’t seen each other in years. His body was different, his heart too, and most important of all — he had someone else by his side. Someone else to be close to, to share his burdens, to lay a shoulder to cry on. Someone else to care, if he had ever cared at all. 

But to his father, time went by like it always did, and he had been away for three weeks. He was expecting his son to be asleep by now, and if he wasn’t, then he’d be quietly studying in his room, ready to greet him with his same old blank stare, eyes devoid of any emotion as he bowed to his father and asked if he had a safe trip back home, wishing him a good night right after. His hair would be perfectly straight, like he had bothered to comb it thoroughly, and he’d have no marks on his neck, no surprise in his eyes, no redness in his cheeks. No stranger in his hallway, protecting him with his arms like his own father was a threat.

So, naturally, their encounter was a little awkward.

“Dad? I thought you’d be home by the end of the week.” Si-eun inquired, his voice just slightly higher than normal. The boy in front of him frowned, his lips morphed into a confused pout, and when he blinked, looking at the adult again, he dropped his arm and his posture straightened. 

Si-eun’s father closed the door, his eyes not leaving them once. The unfamiliarity in his expression was obvious, and Si-eun felt like he wanted his confusion to be very clear. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his forehead. 

“My team lost in the finals. We were sent home earlier.” He responded, taking off his shoes slowly. When he was settled, his lips carried the hint of a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?” 

Soo-ho and Si-eun blinked. The scene would be comical if they weren’t so stunned to begin with. 

“Friend?” Soo-ho asked as soon as he could. The hickeys on Si-eun’s neck now seemed like bullet holes, and the omega rubbed them self-consciously. 

“Yes, friend.” He coughed. Soo-ho looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but Si-eun just smiled nervously at him, begging with his eyes. Just play along, damn it. “Friends, we’re very good friends.”

Soo-ho pouted almost petulantly at that. Si-eun’s father was still standing by the door, staring at them weirdly. “Right…”

Si-eun took a deep breath, feeling the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. The omega inside him wanted to hide behind Soo-ho and not face any consequence whatsoever, but he pushed through, even with his stomach bubbling every drop of acid inside it. Yikes.

“Dad, this is Ahn Soo-ho. He’s a friend from school.” He gestured at Soo-ho with his bandaged hand, and cursed inwardly once he noticed his mistake. As if sensing his discomfort, Soo-ho gave his father a bright smile, bowing respectfully and extending both his hands to greet him, the politeness almost as blinding as the white of his teeth, like he wasn’t about to whine just seconds ago. Now isn’t he cheeky?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” 

Si-eun’s dad chuckled, finding the situation amusing all of a sudden. He shook Soo-ho’s hand with a friendly smile, although both of them could sense his reluctance. 

“I can see you’re a good kid.” He said, finally feeling comfortable enough in his own home to take off his coat and hang it by the door. When he turned to a smiling Soo-ho again, he pointed at him, his brows furrowed. “Let me guess. Alpha?”

Guess? Isn’t it obvious? Soo-ho thought, his smile faltering in confusion. But then he remembered. Right. He can’t smell. That fact relieved him immensely, for Si-eun’s dad wouldn't be able to tell what Soo-ho was doing to his son just before he arrived. He smiled again, if only to disperse the redness in his cheeks.

“You got it right, sir.” He nodded. Si-eun hoped that Soo-ho’s blatant charm was as enchanting to his dad as to soften whatever suspicion he had; although the hickeys on his neck were very telling, he could hope that they would go unnoticed, or that his dad somehow thought that Soo-ho had nothing to do with it. For the first time, he thanked his inability to smell, and cheered inwardly when his dad nodded back, without giving the unusual situation much thought. 

But then he frowned while looking up at Soo-ho. He glanced at Si-eun, then at Soo-ho, then back at Si-eun again. Si-eun felt his heart beating so fast he thought he would pass out and his hands were sweaty and gross. Could this day get any more bizarre? 

“Why are you here so late, kid? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

Oh no. He’s noticing something. Who am I kidding, he found out already. I’m doomed. 

“Oh, hm…” Soo-ho scratched the back of his neck. Lying was not something he was skilled at — he had to be bad at something —, but he knew that, if his answer took too long, Si-eun’s father might find it suspicious (if he didn’t find it already). So, he opted for the safe option: to mix his lies with a little bit of truth. 

“I was just staying here with Si-eun until it was time to go to my part time job as a delivery boy.” He stated. There was no stutter in his sentence, no ounce of hesitation in his face, and if his scent felt just a little bit off, well, the man couldn’t smell anyway.

Si-eun’s eyebrows perked up in surprise, and Soo-ho could almost hear his praise in his head. Before his father could ask anymore questions, he went on, embellishing the lie such that it seemed perfectly plausible. 

“That’s right. We were studying for our mock test, but we ended up falling asleep and lost track of time.” Si-eun told him almost breathlessly, fearing any contestation. His father, though, nodded after staying silent for a minute, believing them like he didn’t even consider they had a reason to lie. Soo-ho suppressed a proud smile towards his omega, but couldn’t contain the twitch of his lips nonetheless. It was then that Si-eun’s father took two bags from his suitcase, the bright instant ramen packages shining through the plastic.

“Well, you shouldn’t leave for work with an empty stomach.” 

Si-eun and Soo-ho shared a look, one that was slightly worried, slightly relieved. But all the while, they couldn’t help but wonder if that dinner would go well, or if they were walking into a trap. Even so, they couldn’t refuse — it would be weirder if they did, and Si-eun could count on his fingers the instances in which his father offered to have dinner with him. 

Feeling his distress like the scent of roasted coffee, Soo-ho bowed in acknowledgment to his father.

“I’d love to, sir. I was actually kinda hungry.” He turned to look at Si-eun, as if his loving gaze could fix all his worries. Si-eun didn’t even question himself anymore when he began to feel slightly better. “Ain’t that right, Si-eun-ah?”

The omega nodded, the hint of a smile covering his lips, the sweat on his forehead cooling against his skin.

“Yeah, sure.”

Soo-ho still couldn’t believe he was sitting in front of Si-eun’s father, in the flesh, alive and in colors. Ever since he found out that Si-eun didn’t live alone like some sort of self-sufficient teenager, his primary guardian seemed like a legendary figure; someone who nobody had seen, only heard of, and whose presence was as fleeting as that of random shooting stars, eclipses and meteors. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really; even after Si-eun had told him about his profession, he was still waiting for him to be a huge, menacing man, who worked for the government as a spy or a secret agent, whose day-to-day persona was just a regular sports coach. 

But Si-eun’s father was actually a really common guy. He was an average sized beta, smaller than Soo-ho in stature, and his smell of cocoa powder and peanuts was hardly threatening. He looked fit for his job, but his whole countenance and demeanor held an air of general disinterest — at least for anything that wasn’t related to his precious team. And all the while, throughout their instant made dinner, Soo-ho couldn’t help but feel thorn regarding the man across from him on the table, eating his ramen in silence. 

A part of him wanted to shout, to grab his chopsticks in anger and make him feel his scent through his skin. You’re such a shit father. You left your son for weeks and barely cared to call once. You come back from all these different cities all the time and never bother to bring something nice to him. You left him here to fend for himself while he was being heavily bullied; he presented by force and was almost violated, and your biggest concern is your stupid team. How dare you call yourself his father, how dare you even come back here and acknowledge him like you deserve to know about his life. You disgust me.

The other part, however, wanted to bow respectfully and show appreciation, if only to be accepted by the man who held the most importance in Si-eun’s life. I want to give your son the whole world. Thank you so much for making this beautiful, wonderful, lovely masterpiece that is your son. I’m so in love with him. I can’t thank you enough. Please let me be in your son’s life, I’ll make myself worthy of his time. I’ll bring him the moon and the stars if he wants me to. So please, if you allow me, I’ll make your son the happiest omega in the world. 

His thoughts kept going back and forth between those conflicting feelings, and he caught himself playing with his food. Ramen had never been so tasteless. 

“I can’t say that I’m not surprised.” The first to burst the bubble of silence was, surprisingly, Si-eun’s father. Soo-ho looked up from his food startled, as if the man somehow knew that he was in the center of his thoughts. But Si-eun’s father looked and smelled as chill as ever, not a care in the world, and definitely not interested enough to be concerned about whatever could’ve happened in the three weeks he was away. “I’ve never met any of Si-eun’s friends before. You’re the first one he brings home. It’s very unusual.”

“Dad!” Si-eun grumbled, massaging his temples in embarrassment. Soo-ho’s contrasting thoughts were forgotten while he looked at the boy beside him, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. So I’m the first, huh?

“Aish, don’t be so sensitive.” The father replied, his chopsticks paralyzed in the air. “Are you in puberty or something?”

Si-eun resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kind of. Again. 

Soo-ho clicked his tongue, wanting to come clean right there and tell him everything. Everything he had missed. Every way in which his son had changed. Every way in which they got to know each other, whether Si-eun’s father liked it or not. 

But he just smiled weakly, hoping his discomfort didn’t come out as obvious.

“I guess we just really hit it off.” He answered, appreciating the way he sounded so honest. Their first interactions hadn’t been exactly friendly, but Soo-ho would go through every difficulty all over again if he got to kiss him on the lips like he did today, and call him his omega in his head as he marked his neck and protected him from harm. Well, his father doesn’t need to know that. “He was having a hard time in P.E class, so I helped him out. Then he decided to help me out with my studies. And here we are. We get along pretty well.”

Si-eun raised his eyebrow at his response, the curiosity wafting off him like a chocolate treat. Soo-ho barely hid his smile as he took a huge bite out of his noodles. He could hear his voice inside his mind: so you’re good at lying now? It seems like you’re enjoying yourself. 

Soo-ho didn’t like to lie, but he did like a good love story — he was raised by his grandmother after all. And that seemed like the perfect start for their romance, if circumstances hadn’t been so dire. He could make up a few scenarios when Yeon Si-eun was involved, but he’d rather choke on his food than admit to that.

“Well, that’s good to know.” Si-eun’s father’s voice sounded a little more cheerful, and Soo-ho felt weirdly proud to have achieved that. “Now, I don’t mean to sound old fashioned, but I’m glad that Si-eun has an alpha friend.”

Si-eun had that look on his face in which his lips morphed into a cute pout and his eyes shone like two pearls; the expression of pleasant surprise, of adorable confusion. And Soo-ho, strangely enough, caught himself adorning a similar expression. Of all the things that could come out of Si-eun’s father’s mouth, they hadn’t expected any sort of gratitude. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that he’s weaker or anything, but from my own experience in high school, the alpha boys aren’t exactly the friendliest.” He commented, taking a pause to slurp on his ramen. Soo-ho and Si-eun shared a look; he has a point. “In my time, they were all about showing off their strength and boasting about their game with omegas.” The adult shook his head, seemingly lost in uncomfortable memories. 

“I’m afraid they haven’t changed all that much.” Si-eun murmured, taking a sip of his glass of soda. Soo-ho agreed with his head, his eyebrows twitching in a frown as he recalled Young-bin and his minions. Fucking disgusting. 

“I thought so. But now that you have an alpha friend, those boys won’t dare mess with you.” He said, sounding so sure and full of tranquility. Si-eun wanted to sigh tiredly and tell him that things weren’t that easy, but his father went on with his line of thought. “Being unpresented can get a little complicated after some time, am I right, son?”

Si-eun almost choked on his chopsticks. He looked at Soo-ho in the corner of his eye; it seemed that they couldn’t stop doing so, and his father was bound to notice it. Soo-ho’s countenance was one that he was seen before; pleading, begging him to tell the truth. And Si-eun, once again, was unable to do so, delaying the inevitable as much as his pain tolerance would allow him to.

“Right.” He agreed, hiding his face on his plate of ramen. Soo-ho’s scent became acidic right by his side, but it faded shortly after, returning to its normal and comforting forest smell. Si-eun inhaled it greedily, unconsciously happy that he was the only one in the room that could do it with so much vigor. 

“But why is a highschooler working on a part time job so late? And on weekdays, too.” His father’s attention turned to Soo-ho, and Si-eun felt brave enough to disentangle himself from his chicken flavored noodles. “Are you saving up for college?”

Soo-ho’s lips — the ones Si-eun was fervently attached to barely twenty minutes ago — were parted, and he looked deep in thought, as if that was something that had never been asked to him before, as if nobody had ever bothered to know or to care.

Si-eun felt the deepest urge to hold his hand, but refrained. To his father, they were just friends. Very good friends.

“It’s just a way for me to help my grandma with the expenses. She’s very old and can’t work anymore, and since I live with her, I thought I could do something about it.” He answered, his hands fumbling with the chopsticks nervously. His sincerity, however, could not be questioned, and Si-eun hoped that his father could see it, could feel how Soo-ho exuded pure goodness, too good to be true. 

And when his father smiled between his relentless chewing, Si-eun knew that he could see it. 

“You’ve got yourself a good friend, son.” 

Si-eun smiled, the type of smile that didn’t show his teeth, but clinged to his eyes, turning them into crescents. He looked at Soo-ho with a pride he couldn’t even recognize yet, but it was the type of pride that lovers usually portrayed about each other, the pride of those who liked to be seen next to their loved ones, for everyone to see. 

“Yes. Such a good friend.”

His hand twitched by his left side, and he let it slide under the table. Soon enough, his fingers were being intertwined by a familiar warmth, and the world seemed a little bit brighter. 

Dinner went on without any casualties — and by casualties Si-eun meant uncomfortable questions about the nature of his relationship with Soo-ho or why his neck seemed like a haphazardly painted canvas. With Soo-ho by his side, Si-eun was getting quickly accustomed to feeling some things for the first time, and that was the case when he caught himself thanking the stars for giving him such a careless father, at least that once. Perhaps he had noticed Si-eun’s hickeys and didn’t even bother to ask; perhaps he hadn’t noticed them at all. But Si-eun was spared the discomfort, and that was all that mattered.

When it was close to midnight, Soo-ho grabbed his things and said his polite goodbyes to Si-eun’s father, who told him he was glad to meet him. Si-eun had never considered himself the anxious type, but he was eager to be alone with Soo-ho once more, so he decided to walk him to the front door, sliding himself out in the silent corridor hoping for some peace and quiet. 

And as soon as they were by themselves, Soo-ho’s whole demeanor changed; his hands wrapped around Si-eun’s waist, pulling him close. His expression was a serious, careful, almost jealous look, his eyes fixed on the open door that led to Si-eun’s apartment. The scent on him was protective, slightly menacing, but comforting all the same; after all, it was Soo-ho, and Si-eun could only feel warm and nice around Soo-ho. 

“He has a lot of nerve showing up so late, just like that, after everything he’s missed.” Soo-ho grumbled, his eyes moving back and forth from Si-eun’s gaze to the hallway they were in just a minute ago. “I should report him to the guardianship council.”

“Soo-ho!” Si-eun shrieked in his arms, turning his head back worriedly. “He’s inside. He could hear you!”

“I don’t care.” Soo-ho replied, lowering his head until his mouth was, once again, kissing Si-eun’s neck. If Si-eun was embarrassed before, he was mortified now. 

“Soo-ho!” He tried to push the boy away, but his head just kept nuzzling his neck. He could feel his smile on his skin, and it didn’t take long for him to rub their scent glands together. The pleasant sensation made Si-eun’s legs crumble and shake, but Soo-ho’s arms were holding him firmly against his chest. They were so close that if his father were to take a look, their friendship would be debunked immediately. 

Even so, Si-eun couldn’t bring himself to move away. Soo-ho’s scenting sessions always managed to transform him into a meek, purring omega, whose only desire was to snuggle closer to his alpha and drown in his smell. It was a little humiliating, but Si-eun didn’t care all that much. Soo-ho made the omega in him feel so alive, so loved, so cared for, as if he was a heavenly creature, someone to be desired and cherished. How could he turn away from such a wonderful feeling?

But suddenly, Soo-ho’s hands touched the skin of his hips in a way that made him jump and move away, startled. Even though he knew that, logically, Soo-ho would never hurt him or force himself on him, Young-bin’s harmful touch was still fresh on his memory; his body was too hurt to forget, and his mind reached a traumatized point to identify triggers in the most harmless act. 

Soo-ho backed down, hurt showing in his features. Si-eun felt guilty for ruining their moment so abruptly, and felt the urge to say sorry. But something in Soo-ho’s careful eyes told him that he shouldn’t. As if to apologize with his hands, Soo-ho nuzzled his palm on his cheek, caressing it lovingly, conveying the words he could not say. And so, Si-eun allowed himself to receive that wonderful feeling again, traveling through the tips of Soo-ho’s fingers all the way to his heart. 

But eventually, Soo-ho parted from him, his reluctance obvious in the way he struggled to pull his hand away. Si-eun suppressed a very omegan whine, and settled for keeping his eyes on him, hoping they could convey the immensity of his sentiments. What Soo-ho told him next, though, quickly made him frown.

“You need to talk to him, pup.” He murmured, the pout in his lips saying that he hated to be the bearer of bad news, or in this case, unwanted advice. “He should know that you presented. It’ll be for the best.”

Si-eun didn’t turn away from him, but he wanted to. It was like he was being cornered by his most trusted person, and somewhere deep in his mind, he wondered if his wolf was just being sensitive. Normally, Si-eun wouldn’t mind telling the truth to his dad — it’s not like he had anything to hide. But lately, with all that had happened to him, his sub-gender seemed like a personal matter, a touchy subject, something that only Soo-ho could calm down and make it enjoyable.

“Why won’t you just let me say it when I’m ready?” He pouted involuntarily, frustrated. Soo-ho cooed at him and couldn’t avoid giving him a kiss, even with the risk of his father walking in on them at any minute. They were surely taking too long to part ways, you know, for “just friends”.

“Because who knows for how long your dad will be around? If he could smell, he would know right away. It’s not like it’s supposed to be a secret.” Soo-ho replied. His right hand went up to Si-eun’s hair, brushing it lovingly, unconsciously trying to smoothen the impact of his words. “Are you afraid he won’t accept you?”

Si-eun dropped his eyes, blinking a few times in thought. What was he afraid of?

“No, it’s not that.” He sighed, resting his chin on Soo-ho’s shoulder and feeling him embrace him fully, his hands carefully resting in the small of his back, their hearts beating against each other in a comfortable rhythm. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel like telling him, that’s all. Don’t feel like telling anyone else.”

Soo-ho nuzzled his cheek on Si-eun’s head, feeling his soft hair against his skin and basking in his warmth, his scent mixed with his own. He could feel the omega’s tiredness, the way his words felt so sincere. And he felt like he could understand. He didn’t want to tell anyone else, because everything that had to do with his sub-gender, since its very manifestation, was of negative connotation. He had been intimidated, forced, violated, stalked, all because of his second gender. He didn’t want to feel anyone else’s judgment, didn’t want to confess his nature with fear in his heart. 

And as Soo-ho closed his eyes, he wished he could make it easier for him. He wished he could be with him every step of the way, holding his hands, kissing his cheeks, cheering for him on every victory, like he deserved. 

But he couldn’t. He was busier than most teenagers, and even if he weren’t, they still wouldn’t be able to be together 24/7. So the best he could do was give him some encouragement, some comfort in his scent and his embrace. 

When they parted, it was by Soo-ho’s own volition. He grabbed his phone and asked for Si-eun’s number. There was an energy of déjà-vu around them, something that made Si-eun want to crack a smile. 

“I don’t even want to see how you saved my contact.” Si-eun grumbled, but Soo-ho could hear the amusement in his voice. It was so different from his cranky, embarrassed reply from last time, but it wasn’t so different either. Soo-ho caught himself smiling despite the ache in his heart.

“I’ll keep the surprise factor, then.” He chuckled while he put it in his pocket, their imminent need to part laying ominously above their heads. Soo-ho felt a little pathetic; they were going to see each other the next morning, but he was behaving as if leaving him was the most painful, horrible thing to do. Stupid, clingy alpha, calm down. His wolf could be quite the nuisance sometimes. He wondered if Si-eun felt the same.

He grabbed his hands and kissed them, looking at him in those lovely doe eyes as he asked:

“Please consider what I said, okay?” He kissed his forehead, feeling him hum in agreement. My good boy. His skin tasted sweet on his tongue, and it was then that he remembered something important. 

Si-eun looked up at him in response to his gasp. Soo-ho stepped away from him and took off his blue windbreaker, his arms looking impossibly fit in his purple t-shirt. Si-eun didn’t even have time to process what was happening when the alpha threw the jacket over his shoulders, pulling it by his neck until it fit him nicely, patting his arms through the colorful fabric. He smiled proudly at his work, shamelessly ogling the omega drowning in one of his clothes and looking adorably confused, like a lost puppy. 

“What are you doing?” Si-eun asked after a few good minutes of dumbfounded silence. Soo-ho lifted his eyebrows at him, but he still couldn’t figure out what his intentions were.

“I’m giving you my windbreaker.” He said, his tone playfully obvious, as if to provoke him. Si-eun just kept staring at him like he had lost his mind. “I want you to use it when I’m not around, so no one will dare mess with you, like your father said.”

Si-eun blinked, his hands grabbing the texture of the jacket in awe. There was a faint redness in his cheeks that Soo-ho wanted to feel in between his palms.

“But-”

“Ah ah ah, no buts.” Soo-ho’s index finger shushed Si-eun’s mouth, touching his lips firmly. “It carries my scent and it keeps you warm. Just take it.”

Si-eun murmured something under his breath, but Soo-ho didn’t insist further. Soon enough, the smaller boy shifted, pulling the windbreaker closer to his chest, feeling the warmth spreading over his upper body and basking in the smell of leather and pinewood. He hoped his expression didn’t make his contentment so clear.

“Will you be wearing your red windbreaker often now?” He asked, his curious eyes searching for Soo-ho’s answer. It came in the form of a naughty smile, the dimples in the corner of his lips appearing like special guests in their implicit farewell.

“Yes, pup. I’ll wear it at our wedding if you want me to.” He winked at him, feeling Si-eun’s embarrassment bloom beautifully in his cheeks like a blossoming flower. 

“What-”

“Bye! See you tomorrow!” 

As Soo-ho walked towards the stairs, waving with his back turned to him, Si-eun could feel the cold returning, along with his chronic loneliness. His father’s presence inside the apartment was an ominous reminder of his neglect, even if he wasn’t entirely to blame. His guardian couldn’t know that he was being bullied if he didn’t tell him, and couldn’t know about his sub-gender without the capacity to smell. Even so, he knew that Soo-ho had a point in all of his comments and attitudes; maybe if his father was more present, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting him so much from harm, and his decision to tell him wouldn’t be something to be encouraged in the first place. 

Si-eun had, thus, two options: tell him once and for all, ripping the bandaid of that wound for good and facing the consequences now, or waiting for another moment, when he was less tense and more used to his sub-gender, at least enough to not feel uncomfortable about telling his father the truth. 

He opted for the first one. There was an unspoken knowledge in his head that if he delayed that conversation any longer, things could get more complicated. Besides, Si-eun always carried within himself the notion that he would suffer one way or another; it was just how life was, how life was perceived by him.

And so, when he closed the door and carefully folded Soo-ho’s windbreaker, laying it on his bed, he stood in the hallway and said:

“Dad, I need to tell you something.”

His father was putting his dirty clothes on the washing machine when he heard him, and quickly told him to wait. Si-eun could feel his temples starting to hurt, but remained on his same spot, even when his dad passed him by and sat on the table chair, eyeing him curiously. His expression betrayed his doubt, and urged Si-eun to speak; and Si-eun, naturally, was nothing if not direct:

“I presented a few weeks ago. I’m an omega.”

There. It was done. Soo-ho couldn’t say that he didn’t try.

He was expecting a bit of surprise from his father’s side, but the man just sighed, bringing his hands together in a thoughtful gesture. Si-eun always assumed his father hoped for him to be a beta; it wasn’t even a possibility that he would turn as an alpha, but the hierarchy was obvious for everyone in that sub-gendered society: it was like a stair, and the omegas were always at the bottom of it.

“Well, that makes sense.” Came his father’s reply a few seconds later. He didn’t seem worried, nor disappointed, but didn’t seem thrilled or surprised even. He was as neutral as ever, and Si-eun didn’t know if he should feel relieved or angry. For once, he wanted to rip a reaction out of him, make him yell, or smile, or cry. His own lack of expressions seemed so blatant now. “There hasn’t been an alpha in mine or your mother’s lineage for over five decades. You were either going to be a beta or an omega, that doesn’t strike me as shocking.”

It was the most mechanical response that Si-eun could ever have received. He caught himself feeling a little baffled at how insignificant and normal his sub-gender sounded coming from his father’s mouth. Nothing about his manifestation had been taken lightly or naturally; him being an omega, the only omega at Byeoksan, put him in a position of contrast in comparison to all his peers. His very existence was treated like something out of the ordinary, and yet… 

“So, is that alpha really just your friend, or is he… Something else? To you?”

His father’s next question took him by surprise. He could feel that familiar warmth returning with full force, almost knocking the air out of his chest.

“I… We… Why do you ask? Just because he’s an alpha and I’m an omega?” He asked, feeling weirdly defensive like never before. His relationship with his father was so devoid of conflicts that it lacked proximity, any form of intimacy restrained from their lack of conversation and development of bond. 

But his father seemed tired. He didn’t see any reason to start an argument in the middle of the night, so he just pointed at his own neck, regarding Si-eun’s marks. The redness in his cheeks reached such severity that he felt it would be irreversible.

“Your neck. What are those bruises in your neck?” 

“T-These are just, well-”

“I’m not stupid, Si-eun. I know what they are.” His father sighed, running a hand through his hair. Si-eun didn’t know what to expect from him next. Was he in trouble? Would he be forbidden to see Soo-ho or bring him home? “Listen, I don’t care what you do with that alpha or not, I just want you to be careful.”

Si-eun immediately let out a breath, more relieved than he would like to admit. But then, his father stood up from the table, looking at him sternly.

“Do I need to have that conversation with you?” Si-eun frowned, almost disgustingly.

“No, dad, I don’t think so.”

“Good.” His dad seemed as uncomfortable as him. The last thing he needed was a pep talk from his dad about sexual wellness. He had suffered enough from his experiences in the classroom alone. “Well, then I’m going to sleep. Goodnight, son.”

“Goodnight, sleep well.” Si-eun bowed to his father as he passed by him, going to his barely-lived-in bedroom. Si-eun let out a tired breath once he was left alone, the scent of his father no longer noticeable. When he was in the confines of his bedroom, the remains of Soo-ho’s smell still on his sheets, he took his phone, and with shaky fingers, looked for Soo-ho’s number. 

강아지 Ω ♡

Hi.

His answer didn’t take very long to come through. He assumed Soo-ho had given up on going to work and went straight home. 

수호α ♡

Hi pup <3

The term of endearment made him chuckle. It never failed to get a reaction out of him. Still, he focused on why he messaged him in the first place.

강아지 Ω ♡

I talked to my dad.

수호α ♡

Omg! How did it go?

강아지 Ω ♡ 

It went fine. He was very calm about it and just told me to be careful. He didn’t even ask about my bandaged hand or my other bruises. Didn’t seem to care that much.

수호α ♡

He didn’t strike me as the caring sort of parent 

Still, that’s good to know. I’m so proud of you pup

강아지 Ω ♡ 

You’ll never stop calling me that, will you?

수호α ♡

Not for as long as I live, no

seen at 00:15

Soo-ho, on the other side of town, was met with no response for a while. He wondered if he had given an answer that somehow displeased the omega, but brushed those worries aside. It’s not like Si-eun wasn’t used to his pet names by now. He settled his phone under his pillow, his eyelids becoming heavier by the minute. His grandma had made a fuss when he came home, asking why he was all bruised. It took all his convincing skills to calm her down and assure that nothing bad was gonna happen if he went to school the next day. His bones were aching for a good night sleep on an actual bed, and he was almost dead to the world when his phone beeped again sometime later.

강아지 Ω ♡ 

It’s fine. I like it.

seen at 00:30

Soo-ho swallowed a giggle, his heart beating faster as he stared at the name on the screen. That night, he went to sleep with a satisfied smile on his face, looking forward to the next day. 

He didn’t know if it was the excitement to see Si-eun again or some otherworldly influence, but he actually got up on time to get ready for school. His fingers were itching to grab his phone and send Si-eun a message, those corny good morning messages that new couples usually sent one another, but he had a feeling Si-eun wouldn’t appreciate it all that much. There were no new messages from the omega, even though Soo-ho was sure he was awake by now, being the first to enter the classroom every morning. He caught himself feeling a little hurt, but reprimanded himself. Dude, you have to take it slow.

There were a few notifications, though. From his Instagram account. 

Oh Beom-seok had started to follow him, and had liked a few of his pictures. 

Soo-ho frowned at his phone screen, feeling confused, conflicted and slightly irritated. They barely knew each other, and yet, Beom-seok looked determined to make his presence noticeable to him. He suspected it was a way to make amends, but it seemed so forced that Soo-ho couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had never been very good at retributing the interest some people had in him.

Nonetheless, no matter how inconvenient Beom-seok could be, he did give Soo-ho a very nice excuse to text Si-eun so early in the morning while still maintaining his cool, detached, definitely-not-head-over-heels-in-love persona. 

수호α ♡

Hey! So, Oh Beom-seok started following me on Instagram out of nowhere

Do you think he wants something from me? 🤨

강아지 Ω ♡ 

Good morning to you too.

You sound oddly suspicious. 

수호α ♡

Good morning!

It’s just that I don’t know how to feel about him, so I wanted to ask your opinion

He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who can take a hint

강아지 Ω ♡ 

You’re right, he definitely doesn’t know how to take a hint. If we don’t say anything to him directly, then he’ll just keep trying to get our attention.

수호α ♡

Well, it’s up to you. If you want to make amends, then I’ll be on your side. But if you don’t, then we’ll just stay the hell away from him

강아지 Ω ♡ 

You shouldn’t base your friendships on me. If you want to be friends with him, you’re free to do so. 

수호α ♡

But I want to. I want all my friends to be your friends too, and I would never want to be near anyone who makes you uncomfortable

If anyone makes you uncomfortable, I’ll personally kick their ass to the moon 🌙

강아지 Ω ♡

That’s… Strangely endearing.

수호α ♡

Only for you babe

강아지 Ω ♡

I thought my official pet name was “pup”.

수호α ♡

The list is expanding

Btw, did you leave home already?

강아지 Ω ♡

No, I was just finishing getting ready. Why do you ask?

수호α ♡

Wait for me by the lobby

I’ll pick you up and take us to school

강아지 Ω ♡

That’s not necessary.

수호α ♡

It is tho

강아지 Ω ♡

No it’s not.

수호α ♡

Yes it is

강아지 Ω ♡

It really isn’t.

수호α ♡

You have no choice in the matter

강아지 Ω ♡

😡

수호α ♡

DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI ON ME??

I think I’m in love with u

강아지 Ω ♡

And you decided to tell me that through text?

수호α ♡

…

Oh no-

Despite being contradicted, Si-eun waited patiently for Soo-ho in his building’s lobby, recognizing the excited motorcycle horn by the way his heart jumped in his chest. He ignored all the voices in his head that told him he was being a nuisance, and accepted Soo-ho’s warm embrace, his powerful scent that overwhelmed his senses in all the best ways, and hopped gleefully on the back seat of his bike, wearing his red helmet like a crown. He didn’t miss the way Soo-ho tapped on it once he put it over his head and murmured a shy “cute” under his breath. The warmth in his cheeks proceeded to follow him all the way to school, and since they were the first ones there, they figured it wouldn’t be a problem to hold hands, maybe share a kiss or two (or twenty).

Soo-ho didn’t feel the need to build a table bed that morning, and so, he settled for watching Si-eun study on the seat next to him. He was glad to let him borrow his notebook, which was unsurprisingly blank, and watched as he wrote in the most beautiful, neat and classy calligraphy Soo-ho had ever seen. The more he watched, the more stuff he found to be in awe about Si-eun. And so, he stood there, with his head resting in between his arms with his faithful pink pillow, watching his omega with the most lovesick look in his eyes. 

By seven thirty, other students began to arrive. They could both feel the stares on them, wider and more insistent than ever, as well as the curious scents of the other alphas and betas. They were probably wondering what had happened to Young-bin; after all, Soo-ho and Si-eun were perfectly fine, acting like an obnoxious couple just like the week before, but Young-bin's most loyal companions, Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon, were nowhere to be found. 

When the staring became too annoying to ignore, Soo-ho shifted, looking at the back of the class, making the eyes on him diminish significantly, all their heads falling down to their textbooks. His pheromones were threatening enough to keep anyone a mile away, but they weren’t so strong as to make Oh Beom-seok back down. 

“A-Ahn Soo-ho.” He stuttered, holding on the strings of his backpack like his life depended on it. When Soo-ho lifted his head from his pillow to look at him, he could swear he saw the skinny boy shake like twigs in the wind. “T-This, um… This is my seat.”

Right. Oh Beom-seok just happened to sit beside Si-eun every day. And he so happened to be on the seat behind him on that fateful day. Always around, always close, always so conveniently positioned, that Oh Beom-seok.

“Sorry, dude. I’ll be going.” He mumbled, stretching his arms and feeling the sleepiness wash out from his body, knowing that once the teacher set foot in that classroom, it would come back full force. There was one thing that consoled him, though: that from his seat, he could watch Si-eun from a diagonal angle, in which his gaze fell perfectly on the right side of his face and of his neck. 

He didn’t even think his actions through. To look at Si-eun, to crave for his affection, to wish for closeness; it was something so natural, so imprinted on his very soul, that he didn’t think he had to hide it any longer. Wasn’t it obvious already? To everyone?

So he got up from Beom-seok’s seat, walked a step further, bent down and kissed Si-eun on his right cheek. 

“See you on break time.”

The whole class froze, looking at them with wide eyes and open mouths. He could hear a guy coughing nervously on the back of the room, and Beom-seok’s brain seemed to have stopped working, for he remained standing for long seconds after his seat had been vacant. Si-eun’s right cheek was burning with the shape of Soo-ho’s kiss, and he had half a mind to reprimand him, but he had lost the ability to speak. His heart was beating so frenetically, but oddly enough, he didn’t feel bad. It was the same adrenaline rush he felt when Soo-ho was kissing him yesterday, when they confessed their mutual feelings. He felt there were a lot more things to say, but at the same time, well — wasn’t it obvious already?

As for Soo-ho, he felt like he had just won the lottery. He went back to his seat feeling like the winner of a marathon, a worldwide known successful athlete, a victorious man. He had to suppress a wide grin for the sake of keeping it cool, but with the way his arms came to rest on the back of his neck as he swayed to his seat, he thought it was clear to everyone: Si-eun was Soo-ho’s omega, and Soo-ho was Si-eun’s alpha. And whoever tried to mess with them would face the consequences. 

When break time finally arrived, Si-eun had to shake Soo-ho awake, as he was quickly getting used to doing. Beom-seok remained on his seat, but there was an air of agitation to him that kept disturbing Si-eun’s concentration all day long. His scent was sour and acidic, like he was dealing with a huge internal battle. He seemed to tremble on his place, and he kept throwing Si-eun glances every five minutes. When Si-eun was about to snap, the bell rang, and everyone started to move. He decided he should do it too; he was missing Soo-ho’s company more than he’d care to admit.

When they were walking towards the cafeteria, though, Mrs. Lee stopped them in the corridor, and told Si-eun that he should visit the infirmary. She pointed at his bandaged hand, which made Si-eun believe that she was informed about what had happened the day before, whether by the student’s commotion or by the police. Either way, she didn’t say anything — Young-bin was no longer the school’s responsibility, after all — but she insisted that he should visit the infirmary. 

Feeling uncomfortable by her pressure, but taken by an overwhelming curiosity, Si-eun agreed. Soo-ho wanted to go with him, but his stomach made it very clear (and loud) that he needed to eat. Si-eun wasn’t that hungry, so he told him he’d meet him in the cafeteria later. Soo-ho didn’t leave him until he was sure he’d be alright on his own — which was just an excuse for the alpha to scent him all over; Si-eun almost snapped at him to stop being so overprotective. 

When he was left alone, he realized that the walk to the infirmary, although filled with some odd looks, was as calm and uneventful as it would be before his presenting, before his relationship with Soo-ho (whatever that was), before Young-bin and his friends decided to be pick on him. It was the first spark of normalcy that he had in weeks, and he wondered if Soo-ho’s kiss on his cheek and his scenting sessions — which were the teenage equivalents of staking a claim —, were the reasons behind it. 

He felt a little irritated to live in such a sexist society to the point that he had to be protected by an alpha all the time, directly or indirectly, but he was so fond of Soo-ho that he couldn’t see that as an actual problem. If anything, if he was being really honest with himself, he cherished Soo-ho’s scent on his skin and his protective touches, perhaps way more than he should. It was like his heart was expanding, giving way to a whole new dimension of feeling, something he thought only existed in romanticized myths. 

He was still lost in thought when he opened the infirmary door. The room was just like he remembered from when he used to come there more frequently, brought by low pressure and inconvenient faintings. There was a large window, covered by big white curtains, its view pointing directly to the sports court, the place where the students were more likely to get hurt. The walls were also white, as well as the two stretchers that were available for the sick to rest. There was a big baby green cabinet filled with all sorts of remedies and medical supplies, as well as a mini refrigerator, probably stocked with ice. 

And sat by a simple desk, there was a nurse Si-eun had never seen in his life. But when she saw him, her entire features lit up, bright like the sun, as if she was reuniting with an old and dear friend.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed, and jumped to her feet immediately, moving quickly until she was standing right in front of him. “It’s you!”

Si-eun blinked, recoiling a little from her proximity, the excitement in her eyes almost threatening. 

“Um… Do we know each other?” He asked tentatively, her undivided attention making him feel suffocated. He looked at the name tag in her uniform: Park Shin-hye. It matched the name on the glass board by the desk, identifying her as the school nurse. Si-eun figured she must have been new there, not only on the job, but on the profession as well; she seemed freshly out of college, and if Si-eun were to guess her age, he’d say twenty six at most. 

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry.” She laughed nervously, balancing her hands in front of her face as if to erase his previous memories. “I’m Park Shin-hye, I’m the new nurse. I’ve been told that this school was looking for an omega nurse since a student presented as such a few weeks ago, and well, that’s how I got the job. This is my fourth day at work and I had yet to meet the mysterious omega student, so I got tired of waiting and asked Mrs. Lee to bring you here. It’s so nice to meet you!” She bowed, and then extended her hand, her bright smile almost blinding Si-eun completely. 

He lifted his hand before he could even process everything she had just said, and she shook it enthusiastically, only letting go of him to go back to her desk and search for some things on the piles of books and files on the shelves. All the while, she talked, and Si-eun observed.

“I’m so glad I get to make company to the only omega in this male alpha and beta dominated school. In the schools for women, the phenomenon is quite the opposite; there are very few alphas, generally only one or two, and the omegas outnumber the betas. Isn’t that funny?” She took a few books from her shelves, and from the drawers she took a few boxes of pills. Si-eun resisted the urge to frown, but remained still, finding her cheerfulness rather interesting to watch.

In fact, Park Shin-hye as a person was very interesting; she was an omega with no particular smell, and Si-eun wouldn’t have guessed her sub-gender if she hadn’t so proudly proclaimed it. She was about his stature, with pale skin and brown straight hair, styled with short bangs. Her smile added a childlike charm to her, for it made her eyes almost shut completely, and it was slightly square. She was also unmated, although the shiny ring on her left hand told him that was about to change soon.

“Nothing’s random, though.” She continued her line of thought, her head popping comically from under the desk table. There was a pile of five books, with about fifty to seventy pages each, with the omega symbol adorning all its angles. “Nature and evolution have their explanations for why omegas are mostly females and alphas are mostly males. Still, the omegan body is fascinating and it should be studied by everyone, in my opinion. So that’s why I wanted to work with omegas no matter what. An omega nurse can take good care of all the sub-genders, but an alpha nurse almost always lacks the care to deal with omegas. The school is lucky to have me now, don’t you think? Oh, I’m so excited!”

When she finally resurfaced, she grabbed the books and walked a bee line to where Si-eun was standing, handing him the books without even asking if he’d want it or not. Just like Soo-ho had said earlier that morning, it appeared that he had no choice in the matter. Si-eun managed to hold them with his unharmed hand, and it was then that the nurse’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, that’s so insensitive of me. Wait a minute.” She opened one of the drawers and took a plastic bag out of it, seeing which one seemed more resistant with her hands. And while she did it, she talked, and talked, and talked. “These books are the best ones I could find that explain the omegan physiognomy, from the reason why our bodies are the way they are, from the ways we can take good care of it. Some of them also explain about heats, contraceptive methods, childbirth, and other omegan behaviors and customs over history.” 

As she handed him the bag and helped him with the books, a feeling of gratitude began to settle in Si-eun’s heart as an uncomfortable pressure. He wasn’t used to having all that attention showered over him, not even when he used to get sick often. His health was always treated as an inconvenience, a reason for his parents to fight, for him to feel so pathetic and weak. 

But now, with that nurse looking at him with a warm smile, he felt the most sincere thirst for knowledge, and his sub-gender had never seemed so interesting. 

“Thank you.” He muttered, feeling his lips in that classic confused pout of his. “When… When do I have to return them?”

“Oh, no, no, no. You can keep them!” Shin-hye’s eyes crinkled with her smile and she waved her hands once more. “I have way too many books about omegas already. These ones are short and have an easier language for students, so I was hoping to give them away. Be sure to read them though! I’ve heard the only omega student is also the most intelligent one, isn’t that right?” She winked at him, her smirk filled with a naughtiness that was contagious in itself. Si-eun, against his better judgment, caught himself feeling embarrassed by her praise, his cheeks warm and pink.

“Yeon Si-eun. It’s a pretty name for a pretty omega, and you do look as smart as they say! That makes me proud to be the same sub-gender as you. Us omegas have to uplift and celebrate each other in every opportunity we have. Lord knows the alphas won’t do it for us.” She clicked her tongue and moved back to her desk, this time grabbing a square package of remedies. 

“You might be wondering why I don’t smell of anything.” She continued. It seemed like she couldn’t run out of things to talk about, but Si-eun was oddly entertained — besides, he was curious about her scent, or lack of it thereof. “That’s because I use suppressants.” She lifted her hand, showcasing the little square box. “In case you’re curious though, I smell like cookies and brown sugar. Quite the sweet smell, huh? Even I got sick of it.” 

She proceeded to show him the package, shaking it slightly as if to make the pills come to life. “Suppressants are much like the name itself: they suppress your sub-gender, which means it suppresses your scent and your mating cycles, in the case of omegas, the heats. It’s like your sub-gender becomes neutralized, so you can live your life without worrying about the downsides of it all.” 

She put the package in the bag with the books, and Si-eun felt like he was juggling with so many things held by only one hand. Not only that, but he felt that he was juggling with so much information thrown at him in the span of five minutes.

“To use suppressants or not is up to the person. Unmated omegas are the majority of users, because the effects of the drug keep them safe from violent alphas. But regardless of the relationship status of the omega, some of them just don’t like going through heats, which is perfectly understandable. You can do whatever you want with your body, always remember.”

There was a crease in Si-eun’s eyebrows that betrayed his conflicted feelings. On one hand, the thought of never having to go through another heat again, as long as not having to deal with any reactions to his scent and sub-gender, was extremely alluring. On the other hand, though, there was the intrinsic desire to be held by Soo-ho again when his body became too hot to the touch, and the wish to be close to him, depending on his alphan smell and the warmth of his body for comfort. Those were embarrassing thoughts to have, especially because he didn’t know if Soo-ho would even want that in the first place — after all, he only spent Si-eun’s first heat with him because the circumstances practically forced him to. 

Still, Si-eun was caught in an internal battle. Sensing his distress, Shin-hye shot him a comprehensive smile.

“You don’t have to decide if you want to use it now. In fact, these are only free samples; I recommend that you go to an omegatrician. Every newly presented omega should go and see if everything’s alright. The doctor will ask for a few tests and then you can discuss the best options. You’ll also probably talk about birth control; I wish I could give you a few samples, but that’s strictly medical business. A mere nurse like myself can’t stick my nose in these subjects.”

The tone in her voice told Si-eun that she understood, even if she couldn’t know for sure what was going through his mind. Her easy going, joyful and caring personality made Si-eun believe that she didn’t think he was stupid or pathetic for still wanting to experience other heats. And deep down, he knew that his only desire was to be with Soo-ho, truly and completely, as alpha and omega. It was a way for him to accept his nature, the many forms his body could take just to accommodate someone else; someone else he was so fond of.

Realizing he had gotten lost in thought, Si-eun cleaned his throat and bowed — as far as he could with that heavy bag — to the nurse, showing his gratitude.

“Thank you, Miss Park.” His words were received with a bright smile, and she playfully waved her hand in front of her face as if to say: it’s no big deal! “I appreciate the help.”

“You’re welcome! If you need anything, just come by and I’ll be at your service.” She bowed back, and returned to her seat behind the desk. As he left, she told him he could keep the door open, and he mentally thanked her for not making him do any more effort.

However, he didn’t have to carry all of that for long. Soo-ho was waiting for him in the corridor, holding his backpack on his left shoulder as if it weighed nothing; it did weight nothing since Young-bin burned all his things, but now it seemed to be carrying something. Soo-ho had that knowing smirk adorning his lips, the one that made Si-eun want to erase with a kiss. He had half a mind to ask him why he wasn’t stuffing his mouth full at the cafeteria, but Soo-ho’s comment distracted him.

“Took you long enough in there.” He said, eyeing the plastic bag hanging on Si-eun’s right shoulder. 

“Don’t be dramatic, it was barely fifteen minutes.” Si-eun grumbled. “There’s a new omega nurse working here. She wanted to meet with me.” Si-eun explained, and appreciated the way Soo-ho’s eyebrows lifted in pleasant surprise. “She even gave me some books.” Perhaps he shouldn’t mention the suppressants just yet when he didn’t even know if he was going to take them.

“Books about what?” Soo-ho asked, genuinely curious. Si-eun felt that familiar urge to smile come through again, making his cheeks hurt as he denied his muscles their will.

“They’re about omegas in general. About how our bodies work and how we should take good care of them. She said they’re good for students.” And probably great for newly presented wolves as well. Park Shin-hye truly was a great nurse. 

“That’s so cool!” Soo-ho gasped. The way he seemed so thrilled and enthusiastic made Si-eun feel so warm inside. He knew he shouldn’t feel that enchanted just because Soo-ho was displaying the smallest bit of interest in his sub-gender, but he couldn’t help it. In a society that treated omegas like mere sexual objects, Soo-ho’s interest was genuine, and harmless, and Si-eun knew that he should appreciate it. “You’ll have to let me read it sometime.”

Si-eun couldn’t hide his smile this time, although it was barely a twitch in his lips. Suddenly, Soo-ho’s gaze became so much more intense, as if he was under a ray of sunlight. 

“Only if you tell me what’s in my backpack.” 

As if he had just realized he was holding it, Soo-ho’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. “Ahhh, right, right. That’s why I’m here anyway.” 

He took the backpack from his shoulder and opened it, showing it proudly to Si-eun, his smile making him seem childish and boyish much like Si-eun remembered him from their first interactions. 

Inside it, there was a notebook and a few textbooks, all smelling like fresh and new paper, almost like Si-eun’s neutral scent. There was a weight that settled heavy in Si-eun’s heart, which proceeded to beat faster and faster as he realized what that meant. The books hanging by his shoulder shifted as he grabbed the new textbooks from inside his backpack, along with the brand new notebook, with its stylish cover bringing charm to its over two-hundred white sheets. 

“You…” Si-eun felt unable to speak, his hands browsing the pages of his new study materials over and over again in disbelief. “You bought me these?”

“Yep.” The alpha smiled, teeth and all, his scent denoting that he was proud. Si-eun breathed in slowly, trying to calm down, and inhaled that all too familiar smell, feeling like his lungs were being decompressed and cleaned. When he looked Soo-ho in the eyes again, he hoped his own had no moisture.

“W-Why? I mean… You… With what money?” He stuttered over his sentences, his lips sulking while he spoke, the bewilderment clear in every letter. Soo-ho seemed to find his surprise endearing, for he only laughed softly in response.

“Mine, silly.” 

Si-eun sighed, pulling the textbooks back in his backpack and closing the zipper. He looked disappointed even though that was not exactly what he wanted to show, and he hoped that Soo-ho wouldn’t take that to heart.

“Soo-ho, you can’t keep wasting your money on me every time I have a problem. It makes me feel bad.”

Soo-ho visibly deflated, looking guilty. Si-eun wanted to scream at himself; why can’t I just express my feelings normally? And why do I gotta ruin everything with my gloomy ways?

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” Soo-ho answered, a little sheepishly. Of course he didn’t, he would never do anything to make Si-eun feel bad and now he was feeling awful, but for entirely different reasons. “It’s just that… You love to study and the National Exam date is getting closer. I thought you shouldn’t go another day without your materials.”

Si-eun sighed again, but this time, he made sure to look Soo-ho with every amount of fondness he could find on his body. The tip of his fingers were aching to touch him, lovely and softly as a way to apologize, as a way to be thankful.

And it was exactly what he did. He held Soo-ho’s hands on his, looking him in the eye as he spoke:

“I know. And I’m grateful, truly.” I’m so grateful for you and for all that you do for me, for everything that you are. I’m so happy you came into my life. I don’t know what my days would be without you. I don’t wanna live without your touch anymore. “But I feel guilty when you spend money on me. You have to help your grandma with the finances, that’s the main priority.”

“Aish, you’re acting like I just spent a million dollars.” Soo-ho squeezed his hands, and Si-eun felt like he wanted to scratch the back of his neck, like he always did when he was nervous or embarrassed. “I bought these at the school’s stationary shop. They’re much cheaper there than at other stores. It’s fine, alright? Don’t worry too much.”

Soo-ho took his right hand from Si-eun’s touch, and caressed his hair lovingly. Si-eun swallowed as he stared at him, more serious than the moment required.

“You know I’m not referring to that. Only that.”

Soo-ho’s hands froze where it was resting on his hair. And then it moved again when he sighed, but he didn’t comment any further. Fueled by his silence, Si-eun decided to speak out.

“All the money you spent on my heat, and this money too, I’ll pay you back. Everything, I’ll pay you back.” His determination showed through the strength of his voice and the crease in his eyebrows, his eyes focused on the taller boy as if he was a moth to a flame. And, ignited, Soo-ho’s scent began to burn a little, his frown betraying his anger.

“No, you won’t.” He said, his tone strict and serious, just as his stare. They were both so close now, alone in that corridor, arguing about things teenagers shouldn’t be arguing about. But then again, when were they ever normal teenagers? “Stop saying nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense, Soo-ho. I want to pay you back.”

“Well, I won’t allow it.” He snapped, and Si-eun caught himself feeling angry too. He didn’t like his tone, oh, he didn’t like it at all.

“And who do you think you are to allow me anything?” He bit back, feeling electrified. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite explain, but it made him want to put both his hands on Soo-ho’s neck, at the same time it made him want to put his lips on his and yell his name.

“You can try to pay me back all you want, I won’t accept your money.” Soo-ho answered, his teeth gritted and his eyes sparking. His scent was humid, a little too hot in the air around them, and Si-eun didn’t have to look at him twice to know: he felt it too.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Si-eun asked, feeling something tremble inside him. Soo-ho smelled good even when he was angry.

“Me? Stubborn? You’re one to talk!” Soo-ho replied, snorting sarcastically. Si-eun frowned; he shouldn’t look so attractive while doing that. “I already told you that I spent all that money because I wanted to. You don’t need to pay me back, sheesh!”

“But-”

“No buts! Enough buts!”

“Don’t tell me what to say-”

Soo-ho grabbed his hands, pulled him closer, and shut him down with a kiss. His big hand flew to his head, his fingers drowning in his dark brown strands, while the other hand found shelter at the small of his back. Si-eun’s arms wrapped around Soo-ho’s neck, bringing him even closer and down to his level. He let out an embarrassing sigh, one that revealed all his contentment as he let himself be lovingly devoured. He could have mewled and purred and cried in pleasure; Soo-ho’s lips were soft and warm against his, and as he opened his mouth and explored him with his tongue, Si-eun forgot why they were arguing in the first place. All he knew was that he was being held by Soo-ho, kissed by Soo-ho, all of his senses were overwhelmed by Soo-ho. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Si-eun lost track of time very quickly; he couldn’t know for how long they stayed there, making out furiously like they were in the privacy of his apartment. He just knew that his and Soo-ho’s lips met many times, moving against each other in a dynamic dance, speaking a language that could only be understood by their own tongues as they made contact. Each sound that Soo-ho made, Si-eun cataloged in his brain like a rare discovery. And each little mewl and purr that Si-eun let escape his lips, Soo-ho made sure to learn what caused them, so he could repeat it, again and again and again.

When they finally broke apart, panting and red faced, Soo-ho looked at him deep in the eyes, his dark brown pupils hypnotizing as he pinched the left side of his belly. 

“You brat.” He mumbled, chuckling slightly right after, giving him a little peck on his swollen mouth. That alone was enough to make Si-eun feel his body reach the highest temperature, as if he was burning with fever. “Let’s not argue about that anymore.” Don’t disobey me again, you brat. The thought made Si-eun’s knees tremble and his fingers grip Soo-ho tighter.

“You have to stop stealing kisses from me like that.” He murmured, feeling his face still hot. Soo-ho only smiled at him, the type of naughty smile that made Si-eun want to do unspeakable things to him. 

“It’s hard to do so when you’re so cute.” He pinched his cheeks and pecked his pouty lips, showing how much he didn’t care about what Si-eun had just said — about how much Si-eun shouldn’t care either.

Si-eun didn’t say anything after that — he only motioned for Soo-ho to pass him his backpack. He put the plastic bag with the books and the suppressants inside it, and when he closed it, Soo-ho put it on his shoulder, eyeing him as if to say: I’ll carry it. Let’s not argue about it too.

Si-eun didn’t even have the nerve to roll his eyes. If Soo-ho wanted to act like a gentleman, then he really shouldn’t refuse. Especially if that gentleman kissed his breath away and stole the beats from his heart like the most charming thief. Leave it to Soo-ho to have both in him.

As they walked to the cafeteria hand in hand, everyone else seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them; the stares no longer bothered them, whatever the others could think was of no importance. And as they walked hand in hand, Si-eun looked at that alpha — his alpha, he wanted to think — with the most sincere light in his eyes, and thought that he really wouldn’t mind spending another heat with him. In fact, he wanted to; he wanted to wait for his body to cramp and hurt and sweat, only for Soo-ho to soothe all his pains away. He wanted to keep seeing his reactions to his scent changes, wanted to feel his scent gland singing for his touch. Around Soo-ho, he didn’t need to repress himself; around Soo-ho, he didn’t need to be afraid and take precautions. With Soo-ho, he was better than ever.

He wanted to say that to him, but he didn’t know how. Amidst all of his great feelings, he thought he should acknowledge him somehow. 

“Soo-ho-ya.” 

The alpha looked back, his gaze warm as ever.

“Yes, baby?”

Si-eun felt his cheeks burn against his will. Another pet name. The list is expanding.

“Thank you. For everything.”

The alpha lifted his hand and kissed it. There, in front of everyone. Because they were so, so obvious.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

They had only a few minutes to grab their lunch. Soo-ho, who was already starving by then, exaggerated a little on the composition of his plate. There was too much rice, too much meat, and definitely too much sauce. Strangely enough, Si-eun didn’t doubt it for one second that he could eat all of it, but he still felt the need to ask:

“How can you eat all of this?”

Soo-ho answered him with his mouth full, his cheeks swollen like those of a squirrel. Si-eun was used to it by now.

“I’m starving, alright? Leave me alone.”

Si-eun didn’t say anything. He wondered if all alphas were that way, if their bodies needed so many nutrients; or if it was because Soo-ho was pretty much an athlete. His train of thought was disturbed by the feel of a presence right behind him. When Soo-ho paused his big spoon of rice mid-air, Si-eun turned around to greet whoever was waiting for their attention. 

It was Oh Beom-seok. He had a timid smile decorating his face and looked fairly calm. However, the way his fingers were gripping his tray of food betrayed his nervousness: they were white like blank papers. 

“Can I sit here with you guys?” He asked, no stuttering this time.

Soo-ho stared at Si-eun, who just looked back, confused. Soo-ho’s silence told him that he was waiting for his approval, and he remembered their earlier conversation by chat. It’s up to you, he said, unknowingly setting another unwanted responsibility on his shoulders. And it was a difficult answer, because much like Soo-ho, Si-eun didn’t know how to feel about Beom-seok. There was an awkwardness between them that could not be erased, but at the same time, he felt like he needed to give his obvious attempts at friendship a try. 

And so he answered, voice low and weak:

“Sure.” 

Soo-ho blinked, and then nodded, going back to his vigorous eating like someone had flipped a switch on him. “Yeah, dude, sure.”

Beom-seok let out an audible sigh, but they all pretended they didn’t hear it. He bowed slightly with his head as he sat down, and there was a genuine smile on his face that Si-eun couldn’t help but find adorable. Perhaps he’s not so bad. My body is just reacting to Young-bin’s memory like it always does. I don’t wanna go through anything like that ever again. 

But Beom-seok seemed like a chill guy; it was very clear that Young-bin had targeted him as an easy prey and used him for his evil plans. As well as not being able to catch hints, Beom-seok apparently couldn’t catch good luck too. But now that Young-bin was far away and unable to reach them, the very air on that school felt different, and if Beom-seok wanted to shoot his shot, then Si-eun might just allow him. 

They chatted about many things. Beom-seok was interested to know if he was doing well after everything that had happened, and Si-eun appreciated his concern. Soo-ho mentioned that he had bought Si-eun new study materials, and Beom-seok said he could help with that as well, maybe buying him a new pencil case. Si-eun refused with just a shake of his head. 

They, unsurprisingly, also talked about food. Mostly Soo-ho. 

“How can you talk about food while you’re eating?”

Soo-ho looked at him as if he was playing a very unfunny game. 

“So you don’t talk about life while you’re living?”

Si-eun blinked, and didn’t say anything after that. He has a point.

When break time ended, they followed the sea of students out of the cafeteria, crowding the corridors. Before they reached their class though, Beom-seok asked:

“Um… I was wondering,” He began, looking at them like he might stutter once more. But he cleaned his throat, and went on with what he had in mind. “I was wondering if maybe we could go out sometime? The three of us. I know some really nice places, although they’re a little expensive… But I can pay! It can be my treat and-”

“Cool, we should go.” Soo-ho answered quickly, surprising both of the other boys. “I know a cool place too. It’s not that expensive, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” He smiled — that really charming, friendly smile of his — and patted Beom-seok on the shoulder. The skinny beta smiled slowly, as if he was still processing that he had just been successful at his attempt to befriend them. 

“C-Cool!” It was all he managed to say. Si-eun was starting to find it endearing, although not quite so. 

“We could go tonight.” Soo-ho offered, and Beom-seok shook his head excitedly. But Si-eun only grabbed his backpack from Soo-ho’s shoulder and began walking back to class. When he heard the steps following him, he said:

“I have cram school.”

A sigh. And a groan. Sooner than he was expecting, Soo-ho was standing in front of him, with that crease in his eyebrows and petulant pout that told him he was going to protest. With the last developments in their relationship, Si-eun doubted his capability to resist. 

“Wa! You’re no fun.” He pinched his left cheek, pulling it a few times, trying to provoke a reaction out of him. Si-eun’s expression remained the same, but his eyes were locked on Soo-ho’s in a way that the brightness in them was reserved only for him. And Soo-ho knew how to interpret them, knew how to catch them under his spell.

“C’mon, it’ll only be tonight. To celebrate that those stupid bastards are finally out of our lives. What do you think?” Soo-ho asked, his gaze hopeful and his smile unfairly tantalizing. Si-eun sighed, unable to deny to himself that more time with Soo-ho was quickly becoming way more appealing than more study hours. 

“I already missed it yesterday…” He mumbled, and the three of them knew why he had missed. But this time, it would be different — Soo-ho would be with him all the time, and they would be eating, and chatting, and he’d be so carefree for once. 

It didn’t take too much whining from Soo-ho for him to reconsider. He’d never let Soo-ho know how much he had him wrapped around his finger, or else he’d never hear the end of it. 

“Fine.” He agreed, and Soo-ho cheered, hugging him tight for a minute, and then pulling him towards their class in a shoulder embrace. Beom-seok followed them behind, smiling happily like never before. 

Beom-seok and Si-eun remained still in their places for what seemed like ages. Si-eun could feel his left eye twitching in slight irritation, and as a scene unfolded right in front of him, he clicked his tongue in disappointment. He should’ve figured it out — after all, he had never seen Soo-ho agree to something so quickly.

Speaking of the devil…

“YA! AHN SOO-HO!”

There was a very angry woman in the middle of the restaurant. She was holding a broom, wearing waterproof gloves and a terrifying, furious gaze. Her pheromones were screaming in a mix of burning spices and eucalyptus. Her hair was in complete disarray even held by a scrunchie, and she looked like the type of woman who would laugh in the face of a war general and crush a rock with her bare fists. The scariest alpha woman Si-eun had ever seen. 

“Sorry Miss Choi, I’m late.” Soo-ho laughed nervously and bowed to her, apparently used to it. So that’s his boss, Si-eun thought. Soo-ho’s attitude only seemed to irritate her further, and her eyebrows twitched. Suddenly, Si-eun didn’t feel angry anymore; he just wanted that woman to calm down. 

“Late? You’re lucky you’re not fired! FIRED, do you hear me?” She pointed her broom at him. The restaurant wasn’t quite open yet, so the only other people there were the staff workers. However, Si-eun had a feeling that she would be screaming at them in front of all her clients if they arrived just a tad bit later. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to be intimidated by social norms. 

“Ya, Miss Choi! Don’t be like that!” Soo-ho mumbled, taking off his red windbreaker and grabbing a black apron. Si-eun watched with interest as he moved around the place like he owned it, and tried not to think too much about how nice he looked with an apron on. He recalled not having these types of thoughts when he used his mother’s apron on the first day of his heat. Ugh, this is so embarrassing.

“You can’t just skip work without warning me!” Miss Choi didn’t look satisfied with his promptitude. She approached him with a menacing aura, as if she could pull his ear at any given moment. "I’m gonna take yesterday’s money out of your wage. And today you’ll only get half!”

“Aish, you have such an iron fist.” Soo-ho winced, scratching the back of his neck as if he was tired already.

“What did you say?” Miss Choi’s eyes widened. Si-eun’s breath hitched as if she was speaking directly to him.

“Nothing, nothing. I’ll get to work, Miss Choi.” Soo-ho smiled and raised his arms in a pacific stance. Then, he pointed at them, still standing by the main entrance like statues. Si-eun could swear he felt Beom-seok shake by his side. “Meanwhile, can my friends have a seat?” 

Miss Choi turned her head and frowned, noticing them for the very first time. She raised her eyebrow at Beom-seok, who gulped nervously, and when her gaze reached Si-eun, her mouth opened a little, the gears in her head moving at full speed. 

She turned back to Soo-ho and pointed at Si-eun with her index finger.

“Is that your omega boyfriend?”

Soo-ho cringed, his cheeks going red like peppers. 

“Miss Choi!” He begged her to be a little more discreet, if only with the embarrassment in his eyes and his gritted teeth.

“Oh, I see… I see why you missed so many days of work…” She put her hand in her chin, rubbing her skin as if she had an invisible beard. There was a naughtiness in her tone that Si-eun didn’t miss. “Alright, they can help.”

“It wasn’t even that many days…” Soo-ho mumbled, but the woman was already back at the kitchen, screaming at her other employees. Classic Miss Choi. “Well, you two heard the woman. Let’s get to work.”

Si-eun blinked, not knowing what to do. Beom-seok didn’t seem to know what to do either, but he followed Soo-ho to the kitchen and listened to his careful instructions. Meanwhile, Si-eun felt the urge to complain and beg for Soo-ho to let him leave, much like Soo-ho had done a few hours prior. I can’t believe I missed cram school to do restaurant work. 

It was with that repetitive thought in his head that he scrubbed the floors, sulking like an unhappy child. 

“Ya, you better scrub it well!” 

I’m gonna kill you, Ahn Soo-ho. I can’t believe this.

But he would rather scrub that entire restaurant than face an angry Miss Choi again. Even Si-eun could be terrified, despite his inexpressiveness.

While he scrubbed the floors, Beom-seok scrubbed the plates clean; and if Miss Choi’s happy grunts were anything to go by, he’d say he was doing a great job.

“You’re quite good at this, huh?” The alpha woman chuckled, making Beom-seok smile nervously. “You must be your mother’s pride and joy. You look like a good kid.” 

Beom-seok only hummed in acknowledgement, even if he was sure that wasn’t the case. He could pretend, however, to be the perfect kid for a few minutes; he figured he deserved as much. 

As for Si-eun, he was later assigned the task of handing Soo-ho glass bottles and cans of soda, soju and beer as he filled the refrigerator with them. He had offered to help bring the boxes of beverages, but Soo-ho had refused, telling him he shouldn’t carry many weights because of his wounds. Si-eun suspected he just didn’t think he’d have the strength to go through with it, but brushed it off. It wasn’t like he wanted to prove his masculinity or anything. 

“So… You have two part time jobs?” Si-eun asked, curious to know more about how his work schedule worked. Soo-ho looked at him with a funny expression, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“You sound surprised. I thought you knew.” He mumbled as he grabbed the drinks. “I make deliveries about three times a week. I don’t do it everyday.”

Si-eun nodded softly, handing him a few beers. “Is it tiring?”

Soo-ho’s eyes found his, his head slightly bent down. He looked bewildered, unable to comprehend what had made Si-eun make all those questions. And when he answered him, he had the softest tone of voice, as if he wanted to soothe him; as if he was running his hands through his hair and singing him a lullaby. 

“It’s no big deal.” He chuckled, putting more glass bottles on the refrigerator. They stayed in silence for a minute, but Soo-ho must have noticed something in his countenance that made him stop and question: “What? Do you suddenly respect me now?”

He grabbed a bottle and jokingly approached it to his face as if he was going to hit him with it. He had that cheeky smile on his face that annoyed Si-eun so much, but even if he was doing all that work unwillingly, he couldn’t bring himself to feel truly irritated. Perhaps Soo-ho would always have that spell on him, making him forget everything, unable to get angry for more than a few minutes.

Before they were done, a few customers started to come by.

“Oh, welcome!” Soo-ho greeted them. “Si-eun, finish this for me.” He said, unaware of how bossy he sounded. Si-eun pouted, wanting to complain, but he was off to clean the table for the new arrivals. He just settled for watching him from afar, contemplating his broad shoulders and how charismatic he was. And he caught himself thinking: he’d make a great restaurant owner someday.

When he finished all his duties, he sat by an empty table on the corner of the restaurant and began to study, hoping it could compensate for his poor attendance in cram school. He could feel Soo-ho’s eyes on him from time to time, wary and cautious, as if he wanted to make sure he was alright. He snorted to himself as he flipped the page of his brand new textbook. So overprotective. He didn’t mind it all that much.

When the sun went down, Soo-ho made sure to reserve a table for all three of them, and called for him and Beom-seok. Soon enough, there was enough food on their table to feed an entire family, and he was sure most of that would end up on Soo-ho's stomach. The alpha told them they could go ahead and eat, for he still had a few customers to attend to. 

Si-eun fiddled with his chopsticks, nibbling on his rice, not feeling quite so hungry; the awkward aura surrounding him and Beom-seok seemed to help. It was always like that with Beom-seok: the air filled with nervousness and restlessness, as if his spirit was constantly on the run, afraid of something in the shadows.

“Well…” The beta opened his mouth after what felt like hours of silence. Si-eun merely looked at him, not saying anything once. “About the mock test… I’m really sorry.”

Si-eun swallowed his rice, feeling a lump on his throat. It wasn’t the lump he felt when he was about to cry, but one that held unspoken words. Beom-seok looked sincere and awfully regretful, so he stared at him intently, showing that he was listening and that he cared about what he had to say. Beom-seok seemed to be a person who had been silenced in many ways, and many times before.

“Jeon Young-bin threatened me to do it.” He went on. Si-eun’s expression didn’t change, and he figured he didn’t need to say that he knew it already. “But I didn’t know what it was.”

It was then that Si-eun sighed, leaving his chopsticks resting on the silver bowl. He contemplated the situation and tried to put himself in Beom-seok's shoes: being new at  school and being forced to do something for a bully out of fear. He reached the conclusion that he still wouldn’t do it, knowing what was in the patch or not; he had confronted Young-bin before, that much wouldn’t be different. 

But he could understand that fear very well; that uncomfortable, looming feeling; the sensation of being watched, persecuted, ill spoken. 

“I know.” He answered. His voice sounded deeper in his ears, more serious than ever. But he was forgiving him out of tiredness, out of understanding, and out of contemplation as well. “It’s fine.”

Beom-seok nodded, but he didn’t smile. Si-eun thought he would be smiling like an enthusiastic puppy once he got his forgiveness, but he had a tired look on his face that mirrored his own. And he wondered what those melancholy eyes had to say — if they were telling the truth after all.

“Alright.” 

Not long after that, they heard the very loud — and very familiar — growl of an alpha. A hungry one.

“Arg! I’m starving!” 

Soo-ho hadn’t taken his apron off, but he was visibly exhausted from so much waiter duty. Si-eun and Beom-seok barely had time to process his arrival; as soon as he sat his butt on the chair, he grabbed a lettuce leaf and wrapped it around meat and rice, putting it in his mouth like everyone else was supposed to eat that way. He groaned with so much pleasure that Beom-seok couldn’t help but be curious.

“Is it good to eat like this?”

Soo-ho nodded vigorously, showing him a thumbs up as his mouth comically chewed. Beom-seok decided to give it a try, and the sensation made him laugh in surprise.

“Isn’t it great?” Soo-ho asked. It was Beom-seok’s turn to nod.

“It’s very hot.”

“Mr. Si-eun, try a wrap.” Soo-ho turned his body to face the omega, who until then had been very quiet. He didn’t seem particularly interested; if Beom-seok could guess, he’d say he was a little disgusted. “You should stuff your mouth to appreciate the true flavor of meat.”

Si-eun just grabbed his chopsticks and continued to eat normally.

“No, thanks.”

Soo-ho shook his head, shooting Beom-seok a look as if to say: “see how he is?”

“Aish… Nobody ever regretted listening to me.” He insisted. “Open your mouth. Here.”

He tried to put a wrap on Si-eun’s mouth, but the boy recoiled and stared at him with a blank, almost accusing expression.

“Did you wash your hands?”

Soo-ho scoffed, a smirk blooming in his face. 

“As if you ever bothered about that before.”

Si-eun’s cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink, and from where he was sitting, Beom-seok could see how Soo-ho’s cheeks had risen up to accommodate his naughty smile. Suddenly, it was just the two of them — their eyes could only see each other, their noses could only breathe each other in. Beom-seok was a mere spectator of the lovable, flirty energy surrounding those two, and as Soo-ho shoved the food on Si-eun’s mouth and patted his lips, Beom-seok couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. 

In fact, to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. He could feel his heart squeezing painfully in his chest, his breath faltering as he smelled Soo-ho’s excited pheromones and how Si-eun responded to them so easily. As different as their scents could be, they mingled together perfectly, and formed a cloud of emotions that were obviously enamored. And Beom-seok wondered, pathetically, if they both knew just how far they were going with this; if they knew that they were in the middle of a courting process, if they knew the seriousness of such a relationship. 

Beom-seok wondered, fearfully, if he could ever compete with that. If he could truly be in a group with them, if he could share the same light in Si-eun’s eyes and the same gleeful smile that reached the apples of Soo-ho’s cheeks. 

And the more he asked himself, the more negative his perspectives seemed to be. All he could hear was the praises Soo-ho was shouting to Si-eun, and how oblivious they were to anyone else. Once again, he was invisible, and he felt foolish for even thinking he wouldn’t be this time around.

He ate his food in silence, mistaking his inner turmoil with a laugh here and there. He reacted to their actions, answered their questions, made questions of his own, until they were far enough in a conversation that he could almost forget what he was so forlorn about. Almost.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Si-eun said, and Soo-ho showed him the way. When he returned, he patted Beom-seok's shoulders like he had done earlier that day at school. Beom-seok didn’t think too much about it, thinking he was being his usually friendly self.

But there was something different in his demeanor this time. His shoulder went rigid under the strength of his hand, which was squeezing him until he could feel it in his bones. His eyes were holding the same threat as those of a wolf on a hunt, and he remembered, horrified, that he had seen those eyes before; Soo-ho had looked at him with the same menacing light on the day of the mock test, when Beom-seok had drugged Si-eun against his will. His body had a good memory; it shuddered and shrunk much like it did that day, and his breath hitched as he returned the alpha’s gaze. 

The gaze which was now smiling; a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and didn’t reach his words either. 

“You know, Beom-seok-ah.” He began, his voice smooth like honey, but dripping acid. “I’m actually relieved that you didn’t know what you were doing when you drugged Si-eun for Young-bin.” Soo-ho went on, drinking his water like they were just chatting about the latest football game. He was sitting with that classic alpha stance, manspread and elbow on the table, appearing disinterested and nonchalant. Only appearing. “Because if you did, that would mean you’re as guilty as him, ain’t that right?”

Soo-ho’s smile disappeared. Beom-seok swallowed his own saliva like it was the last gulp of water he’d ever have. Soo-ho’s eyes on him were ferocious, animal-like, and his legs trembled under the table. The hand on his shoulder gripped him even further, leaving him to suppress a groan of discomfort. Soo-ho pulled him closer, looking him in the eye and making him smell his discontent. 

“If that were the case, then I’d have to do something about it.”

They just stood there, staring at each other in silence. Beom-seok felt like someone had stolen his vocal cords; as if Soo-ho’s hand on his shoulder was on his neck, knocking the air out of him. He was waiting for something to happen, for a punch to send him flying on his way, or for Soo-ho to dismiss his attempt to befriend them. 

But instead, he got another smile, and the hand on his shoulder finally loosened, leaving a trail of tingles on the entire area. Soo-ho kept smiling, and Beom-seok felt like he was exhuming sarcasm; but then he laughed, and smacked him on the same shoulder as if he hadn’t almost dislodged it a minute ago.

“I’m just messin’ with ya. You ain’t got nothing to worry about, since you didn’t know.” He chuckled and put his arms behind his head. Beom-seok gulped, feeling lightheaded. “Young-bin, that fucker, I’m so glad he’s out of our lives. You know he’s gonna end up in a reformatory, right?”

Beom-seok nodded, but was still too stunned and terrified to speak. He was breathing with difficulty, but decided to stuff his mouth with food so he’d have a nice excuse for only responding in nods and grunts. 

“Ha, serves him right. Although I’d much rather see him in prison.” Soo-ho grumbled, putting some more wraps on his mouth. Unlike Beom-seok, food wasn’t enough to make Soo-ho shut up. “What’s taking Si-eun so long?” He asked, a few grains of rice falling from his mouth. Beom-seok cringed, but kept it to himself. He figured that he would be laughing if he hadn’t been so blatantly threatened a minute ago. 

When Si-eun arrived back, Soo-ho’s behavior changed significantly. His threatening pheromones calmed down, and became much more tolerable. He kept making wraps for him and offering it with his hands, downright feeding the omega in front of everyone. Beom-seok could only stare; that was definitely courting behavior, but at the same time, they didn’t seem to know what they were doing. It was like a spontaneous mating ritual, in which none of the parties involved were aware of the mating process. 

Despite their enamored exchanges, Beom-seok couldn’t feel happy for them. He could sense it being born from deep inside: an ugly feeling, festering like an infected wound and flourishing from within like a poisonous herb. It was there everytime Soo-ho looked at Si-eun like he was the most magnificent person in the room; it was there everytime Si-eun accepted his wooing acts with a pink blush on his cheeks. It was there when they talked, it was there when they looked at each other. Envy. Anger. Longing. 

And as he ate in silence, contemplating those new friendships of his, Beom-seok asked himself how far that feeling would grow. And if, perhaps, he should be the one doing something about it.  

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER EIGHT — SOUR ORANGES

…

It was a Friday night when Si-eun entered a department store looking for an umbrella. Soo-ho had given him a ride to his cram school, as he had been doing every afternoon; but in that particular evening, one of the school’s teachers fell ill and canceled the class, meaning everyone would get to go home earlier. Si-eun would lie if he said he didn’t feel a little relieved; the closer it got to the examination date, the more tired the students were bound to feel, and he couldn’t help but want to celebrate along with the loud cheers. Everyone was glad to leave earlier, even if it was raining outside and the buses were crowded at that time. 

Si-eun thought about calling Soo-ho, but he didn’t want to disturb him. He was already doing so much for him, so he decided to pick up an umbrella and go home by himself. It was the last day of the week anyway, it’s not like that was a huge sacrifice. He had missed the melancholic and solitary feeling of staring at the bus window as the night passed through him in a blur, sometimes bright, sometimes dark and opaque. 

Well, at least it was what he was planning to do. But the first thing he saw when he entered the store was the sway of purple strands as a girl his age bit down a red lipstick, hiding it in her mouth like an improvising thief, and then spit it directly into her purse. They shared a surprised look once their eyes met, but Si-eun didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone who was present that day, specially someone who was a part of Young-bin’s disgusting gang. He didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to feel the burning of those hands on him, or recall the way he begged and cried for him to stop. He just wanted to grab an umbrella and go home.

But the girl recognized him, and didn’t seem to be in that store looking for legal purchases. He ignored her little wave and didn’t bother to decipher what she mumbled under her breath. He caught the first umbrella he saw and marched to the cashier, hoping it wouldn’t take long. There weren’t many people in the line, and soon it was his turn.

“That will be 1300 won.” The lady in the register said to him, and he gave her his carefully calculated money, hoping there would be enough for his bus ride back home. Before he could move, two hands wrapped around his arm as he was shoved slightly to the side when the girl from earlier reached him as if she knew him, or rather, as if they were there together in the first place.

“Did you finish paying? I couldn’t find what I wanted.” She looked at him as though he was waiting for her all along, and smiled at the cashier a little too brightly to not be awkward. “I’m hungry. C’mon, let’s go, quick! Thank you!”

She pulled him until they were both out of the store, and her audible gasp at the pouring rain almost made him want to yell at her. Can’t I just spend a normal week in my life without being assaulted?

“What? It was raining so much?” She stared at the sky in surprised discontent, while Si-eun took this as an opportunity to take his arm out of her grip. “Oh God, why is it raining so much?” 

It occurred to Si-eun that he had remained silent since he first saw her at the store, and he intended to keep it that way. He opened up his umbrella and started walking through the wet concrete in search of the nearest bus stop. But an angry screech — “Ya!” — stopped him in his tracks.

“I don’t have an umbrella!” She looked at him as if he was entirely to blame. Si-eun just stood there, staring at her in exasperation, wondering what he should do. The sound of the raindrops so close to his body would be comforting if he had the grace to be alone; but soon enough, she ran until she was under his umbrella and holding to his arm like they were old friends. “Make me company until I get home.”

“Why should I?” Si-eun resisted the urge to frown. She can’t be serious.

“Because you have an umbrella and I don’t.” She pulled him forward much like she had done before, her pheromones exuding excitement and freedom in citric waves. “Do you like tteokbokki?”

“Not at this hour.”

“Ya, as if there’s a time to eat something like that! Stop being picky!” She kept pulling him forward, decisive and opinionated just like he thought she’d be. “I know a good restaurant.”

Thirty minutes later, Si-eun found himself staring at a large glass window, the rain still far from over, and the spicy smell of tteokbokki filling his nostrils like an invasive and threatening gas. The girl in front of him, though, seemed to be enjoying it way more than he was.

“Hmm, it’s so spicy!” She had a comical pout on her lips as she ate, but her eyes told him that she was smiling, delighted with the flavor. At least someone’s having fun. 

“Excuse me…” He stared, sighing uncomfortably as he turned to face her. “Can I leave?”

“No, you can’t.” She answered, bobbing her head as she chewed. Si-eun didn’t even bother to sound surprised, and it’s not like his expression changed all that much.

“Why?” He asked. The girl swallowed, and nervously clicked her chopsticks in the air. 

“I can’t eat alone.” Was her answer. Si-eun sighed yet again, traveling his eyes through the table as if he could find a way out. Meanwhile, the girl continued eating as if that was the best meal of her life. “Why aren’t you eating? Don’t you like spicy food?”

“I’m just not in the mood.” His voice sounded dry and bored, reflecting his inner spirits. The girl laughed at his response, drowning some of her food in sauce.

“You don’t have friends, do you?” She smiled, and for once, Si-eun didn’t know if her mockery was serious or playful. He wanted to ask her if she hadn’t seen anything that had happened that day, when Soo-ho came running to save him like his life depended on it. I have a friend, a very good friend. A friend that’s worth a million. A friend that I love. 

But Si-eun kept his mouth shut. She didn’t need to know that. 

Next thing he knew, she was grabbing his phone along with hers, making hers ring as she called her number. Si-eun wondered if he would ever get the chance to save new contacts on his own phone without it being taken from his hands. 

“This is my number.” She mumbled while typing something. “What’s your name?” 

She looked at him expectantly, even with her pink phone case almost blocking her face entirely. 

“Why?” He asked, skittish like a cat on the streets. She let out a breath and resumed typing. Si-eun had an inkling that she wasn’t writing something nice.

“You’re so annoying.” She said to him as she put the phone in her purse. Her expression, however, was light and calm, like he wasn’t as annoying as she claimed him to be. “So I think you’re just my type of friend. I like idiots. Let’s keep in touch.”

She didn’t say it like he should reply, or like he had any choice to refuse whatsoever. Si-eun should feel irritated by her lack of filter and extreme straightforwardness, but strangely enough, he didn’t. Much like with Park Shin-hye, he felt curious and intrigued, like when he had a complicated physics equation that he couldn’t find an easy answer for. She was the type of girl who could talk about anything that entertained her for hours, which meant that she could do all the talking and still wouldn’t mind Si-eun’s silence. She struck him as the sort of confident extrovert that could feel comfortable whenever, and he felt weirdly attracted to that. 

Idly, he thought of Soo-ho. Perhaps they have something in common.

He took his phone from the table and opened the contacts. Young-yi. The name suited her. And so did the little strawberry icon she put next to the characters. Sweet and sour.

He wanted to say something and strike up a conversation, but the turbulent weather didn’t seem enough. Si-eun wasn’t aiming at the awkward sort of small talk one started at an elevator, but rather the uncomfortable and deep exchange between people who witnessed something horrible together; or lived through it, too. So the first thing he managed to say was:

“You were there with Jeon Young-bin’s cousin that day.” 

She looked up at him with startled eyes; Si-eun didn’t know if she was surprised to hear him say something about that awful day or to hear him say anything at all. He just knew that her scent soured like spoiled strawberries. 

“Yeah…” She mumbled, clearly not wanting to talk about that. Si-eun didn’t want to think about that day either, but if they were to be friends, he might as well know what she was up to. 

“Are you related to them or something?” He asked, feeling like a prying investigator. She raised an eyebrow at him, regretting ever bringing him to her precious tteokbokki dinner. If he saw the way her left eye twitched in irritation, he didn’t show.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned him right back. 

She’s competitive, Si-eun noted. I like her.

“Because you seemed pretty desperate when he turned himself in to the police. He also gave you a lot of money, from what I could see.” 

Young-yi stared at him with her mouth closed shut, her jaw clenched and her eyes burning holes in Si-eun’s forehead. He could see the gears in her brain working, spinning around as she contemplated whether to answer him or not. When she settled her chopsticks near her almost-completely-eaten food, she sighed, her countenance softening into an almost forlorn expression, and Si-eun knew she was about to tell him all she knew. 

“That money was what he earned from Young-bin. He paid him to beat you up.” She told him monotonously, casting her gaze aside the restaurant, hoping to avoid his eyes. Si-eun frowned, that familiar anger that could only be related to Young-bin boiling in his stomach. He hated how many times he had felt it before. He hated it to the point it rotted his heart. “Seok-dae is-, was, a drug dealer, as you know. He worked for a guy named Gil-soo. He was a man involved in a series of illegal schemes, like a game that took money from teenagers addicted to bets, and obviously, the drugs. I was one of the teenagers that lived under his wing. I had nowhere else to go since my parents kicked me out of their house.”

Si-eun listened intently, getting progressively more curious for her to elaborate on each one of those things, which were obviously delicate subjects. He refrained from asking her anything too personal, settling for whatever she had to say next.

“Seok-dae survived on the money from the drugs and occasional deals he made with his cousin, since he’s rich. He grew a soft spot for me and the other teenagers, so he decided to kill two birds with one stone helping his cousin and turning himself in to the police. His plan all along was to make his cousin responsible and to tell the cops all about Gil-soo. They’re all arrested now, but no matter what you say, I don’t think Seok-dae should be serving jail time.” 

She wasn’t looking at him directly, playing with the rest of her food and apparently lost in unpleasant thoughts. Si-eun didn’t miss the chance to provoke her, if only because she had disturbed what was supposed to be a peaceful night at home. 

“He was a drug dealer.” He said, pointedly, like he was stating the stormy weather outside. It was then that she looked up at him angrily, her smooth features frowning in disgust.

“It was because of that drug dealer that Young-bin’s been dealt with! It’s because of that drug dealer that Gil-soo is gone! And it’s because of that drug dealer that I now have money to survive!” She replied lividly, almost spitting in his uneaten plate of food, now ice cold. When he remained quiet, not interested in fueling her anger any further, she took a deep breath and calmed down; so, new thoughts began to reach her. “Actually, the fact that my parents accepted me back helps a lot. But still, that money is crucial.”

Si-eun was curious to know what had happened between Young-yi and her parents to wind up on her being kicked out, but he feared that would be too unpleasant of a conversation and bring unnecessary distress to both of them. Rather, he decided to ask about something less emotional and more objective.

“If you have all this money now, why did you steal that lipstick?”

Young-yi scoffed, and continued eating what was left on her plate. A paid meal was a paid meal after all, and she appeared to be starving before they arrived.

“I just didn’t think the price was fair.” She snickered, her expression naughty and playful. Old habits die hard. Si-eun doubted that was solely the case. “Besides, I’m saving that money for something more important, like college. I’m looking for a part time job to help with the expenses at home. My parents are trying to put me back in school.” She went on, rambling about her problems like Si-eun was her nosy neighbor. “If nothing works out, then at least I can use that money to invest in something. It’s not like going to college is my dream.”

They remained in silence for some time, until Young-yi started rambling about other things. She never seemed to be out of things to say, and as weird as that sounded to him, Si-eun found her company pleasant, if not a little funny. He thought about their brief exchange as the minutes went by, and figured that if she was sensible enough to share some of her burdens with him, he should at least help her to make them easier to deal with.

“You said you’re looking for a job?” He asked her when they were leaving the restaurant. She thanked the owners with a yell, and walked in front of him freely now that the rain was gone. When she turned to look at him, both hands typing in her phone with the bright screen, she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Any job at all.”

Si-eun nodded back, an idea popping into his head. He didn’t think Soo-ho would mind.

“I know someone you can talk to. He might have a job for you.”

Young-yi’s face brightened significantly. She approached him excitedly, clasping his hands on her, her eyes twinkling like stars. 

“Are you serious?” She yelled, the energy surrounding her almost ecstatic. Si-eun was afraid to agree, and when he did, she cheered and jumped up and down, bringing his hands with her. “Oh my god, thank you so much! You’re the best! You don’t know how much you’re helping me!”

“But you still didn’t get the job-”

“I don’t care! I’m happy as hell!” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, her scent bubbly with glee, unable to lie. Si-eun was feeling a mixture of wanting to get away from her and returning her embrace, just to pat her on the back and say things would be alright. Her struggles with money and necessity to work so young reminded him of Soo-ho; he supposed he had a weakness after all. “You’re right in helping another omega. Us omegas have to stick together in this harsh world!” She made a determined face and pumped her fist in the air. Si-eun was quickly reminded of Park Shin-hye, the nurse that showed more care to him in ten minutes than his parents his whole life. 

“ Us omegas have to uplift and celebrate each other in every opportunity we have. Lord knows the alphas won’t do it for us.”

Suddenly, Si-eun felt much better. 

When Young-yi let go of him, she bowed enthusiastically, smiling at him genuinely for what seemed like the first time, and Si-eun felt weirdly touched. 

“I’ll see you next time. Be sure to send me the number of this person you speak of! I’ll be going.” 

She turned around and walked away, independent like she had never sought his aid in the rain, chatting loudly with her phone right by her ear. Si-eun chuckled against his will, seeing how her purple strands danced with the wind and how she walked so confidently. Another person that appeared into his life suddenly, with a bubbly straight forward personality and offers of friendship. As he looked for the nearest bus stop, he thought that he didn’t mind it; for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel lonely, not even when the night was dark and opaque against his glass window.

The next week arrived and went by pretty quickly. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon had returned to school, but they were notoriously skittish, so quiet that even the teachers looked unsettled by their silence. The class held an eerie atmosphere when they were present, but it didn’t take long for it to be forgotten; the exam date was getting closer, and the mock test had been rescheduled for that week.

Si-eun had managed to score an almost perfect grade, like he did most of the time. The difference was that he now had people to cheer on him: Beom-seok’s cute smile and hesitant clapping, along with Soo-ho’s definitely-not-subtle stolen kisses. They were even scolded by a teacher who told them to keep minimal distance. Soo-ho always found a way to disobey, and Si-eun couldn’t say that he found it a problem; he was in no place to reprimand, after all.

When Thursday arrived, his friends — it still felt weird to say it — were already planning for the weekend. Si-eun never had plans for the weekend before, so he doubted he’d be of any help. But Beom-seok and Soo-ho had tons of ideas, so all that he had to do was to follow through with them.

“Are you guys free this Saturday?” Beom-seok asked, his long spoon hanging in the air. “I found a good restaurant. Let’s go together.”

“I love good restaurants. Let’s go, let’s do it!” Soo-ho answered excitedly, his mouth still quite full. He was lifting his hand obnoxiously and Si-eun hated how he was tempted to grab his hand on his and bite on his full cheek that made him look cuter than a pup. Instead, he chose to change the subject:

“Hey, how’s it going with Young-yi’s part time job?” 

Soo-ho mumbled something, but his mouth was too full to say anything properly. Once he finally swallowed, he answered him with his eyes still fixed on the food.

“She has an interview this weekend. They’re looking for someone to hire, so that’s good.”

Si-eun nodded, feeling good that she might have a chance to get the job. Ever since he told Soo-ho about her, the boy has been adamant to help, and they might or might not have had an extended make out section right after because Si-eun was so thankful. He could feel his cheeks burning while he ate his rice. Damn it. If somebody asks, I’ll just say the food’s too hot.

“Who’s Young-yi?” Beom-seok asked, and Si-eun mentally thanked him for getting him out of his thoughts. Although the main character in them was right in front of him, swinging his hands every time he spoke.

“You know who it is. The girl with the cool strands. She called the police, was really attached to that drug dealer guy.” Soo-ho answered as if he was trying to recall her himself. Beom-seok nodded beside him, but he was somehow stiff.

“Oh, she.” His voice didn’t sound all that thrilled, but Si-eun couldn’t blame him. He barely knew her, after all. “Did you know her already?”

“No.” Soo-ho answered simply, going back to his precious food. Beom-seok remained staring at him, confused, maybe even a bit turned off by the conversation. Sensing his overwhelming doubt as physical discomfort, Si-eun decided to complement.

“I met with her last week. She gave me her number, told me she was looking for a job.”

His explanation didn’t seem satisfying to Beom-seok. Ever since Young-yi was mentioned, he looked uncomfortable and out of place. Si-eun wondered if he had misheard his intentions; wasn’t Beom-seok always that way? His awkward, scrawny friend?

“Should we invite her to join us this weekend?” Soo-ho asked. It was like a drop of water on a dead silent lake, the little waves as disruptive as a tsunami. 

Si-eun didn’t know why, but he looked at Beom-seok for an answer. Perhaps it was the anxiousness in his eyes, the fact the he was the only one who didn’t seem to approve the mere mention of Young-yi or purely because of his awkwardness around strangers; but Si-eun thought, from an unconscious point of view, that Beom-seok should have a say in it. 

And he knew, too, that if he were just a tad bit more confrontational, more confident in himself, he would disagree. 

“S-Sure, that’s fine by me.” He nodded in a painful attempt to seem nonchalant about it. The way his eyes were blinking rapidly and how he kept turning his head from Soo-ho to Si-eun told the omega that he wasn’t fine with that at all, but he knew better than to pry in personal matters. Beom-seok would just have to face the consequences of repressing his opinion for the sake of others; Si-eun could only hope that he and Young-yi would get along.

As the three of them continued to hang out, their friendship began to develop further. Along with it, in Beom-seok’s heart, there was a wound not quite healed, and the promise of a threat still looming uglily over his head. This wound manifested itself as an uncomfortable feeling whenever he was around Soo-ho and Si-eun, the ones who were his so-called friends, and in whose company he was supposed to feel good, and happy, and cared for. 

The feeling was there all the time, as if it was another person in their friend group. It was there when it was just the three of them in the gaming room, when Soo-ho playfully flicked his pool stick to forbid Si-eun from leaving. It was there, directed at Young-yi and her boastful presence, her overconfidence shining through the purple locks, her infinite lollipops and sarcastic comments. It was there when they were at the coffee shop, when he was left alone to buy the drinks; it was there when Soo-ho made sure to sit beside Si-eun, cooing at him as he said his scent was so much better than those overpriced frappuccinos. It was there when Young-yi proudly announced that she had been accepted as a new waitress at Soo-ho’s restaurant, earning her a bear hug from the alpha and timid claps from the coffee scented omega. It was there when they were at the karaoke, when Soo-ho’s eyes met Si-eun’s while he chose a romantic song, when his gaze made Si-eun’s cheeks burn as his lips twitched into a reluctant, embarrassed smile as Soo-ho sang with his heart open, dedicating those beautiful words to him. It was there, like a sharp thorn, rotting him from inside and making him want to do bad things, ugly things; things that would tear their new friendship apart. 

And Beom-seok wondered, idly, if it was all part of his nature. If he was destined for that misery from the very beginning, his organism programmed for suffering in silence as he watched other people be happy, and powerful, and so disgustingly in love. What did they think of him, really? Did they even think of him as a friend? Or was he just someone they used to buy them drinks and take them to the table, or to be around as they flaunted their love to him as he watched? Was he just a sidekick? A subordinate? 

He was aware that he was grimacing. Somewhere deep inside he knew he was being childish, acting all petulant just because he was jealous of a girl in their group — or jealous of Soo-ho and Si-eun’s relationship in general. He was ashamed to admit, but he had waited anxiously for Soo-ho to follow him back on Instagram, only to find out that he started following Young-yi instead. They seemed to have hit it off when she showed up to his restaurant, and they even took some pictures together. He couldn’t tell for sure what it was about Soo-ho that made his heart twist uncomfortably in his chest, nor could he understand why he hated the way his eyes only sought Si-eun’s figure and how the omega’s eyes sparkled in return. He hated how Young-yi openly teased them, getting so intimate so quickly. He hated how everyone seemed to fit together so well, except for him.

Always the missing piece. Always the odd one out. The disgrace of his family.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked, breaking the spell of his unpleasant dissociations. He turned to look at Si-eun, who had a disgustingly bright red blush on his cheeks and looked hypnotized by Soo-ho. With a microphone in his hands and pink extravagant glasses, the alpha was making a very poor impression of Elton John. But unfortunately for Si-eun, it was painfully obvious to everyone around them that he couldn’t find whatever Soo-ho did anything other than adorable. Love is blind, I guess. Arg. 

“Huh?” He asked, blinking in reflex, but never once did he take his eyes away from his beloved Soo-ho. Beom-seok was getting more irritated by the second; he needed an excuse to leave, even if it was to do what he was complaining about doing — getting more drinks.

“Do you want a drink?” He repeated, and only then did Si-eun look at him, his eyes carrying a strange light that Beom-seok doubted his own would ever carry. 

“Oh, yeah. Do you want me to go with you?” He had the audacity to offer. Beom-seok almost scoffed.

As if I could ever take you away from your boyfriend’s dedicated performance. Perhaps Si-eun wanted a break from the heat in his cheeks and the way his heart was probably beating a mile per minute. He looked like he was about to faint. 

Beom-seok could feel the envy twitching inside him, even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in his place. 

He tried to paint it as disgust. It didn’t work.

“Nah, I’ll go alone.” He brushed it off, thinking his nonchalant act was working for once. As he opened the door, he could hear Young-yi’s scandalous laughter and Soo-ho’s surprisingly smooth timbre singing at the top of his lungs. “Anyway the thing is, what I really mean,” — Beom-seok closed the door and walked to the main hall. “Is yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

The music got muffled as he went farther away from their room. He stood in front of the vending machine for what felt like hours. He clicked on the thousand won button once, twice. The lime soda drinks fell like heavy bricks against the metal, but Beom-seok’s sense of hearing was muted. He doubted it was the noise from the music and Soo-ho’s exaggerate singing; rather, it was the amount of loud thoughts intruding in his head, making him feel these weird feelings and consider weird possibilities, like marching back there and yelling at Soo-ho to stop embarrassing everyone for the sake of his ego, or to ask why they were treating him like he was invisible. Was he really not enough? Didn’t he have anything to offer other than his father’s money? Did he have to stand there and watch those two be lovey dovey for the rest of their school years like some pathetic third wheeler? Did he have to endure that annoying and loud girl every time they went out together? 

His new life in that new school had barely started, but it was already looking like a mess. He supposed he should be satisfied that he was at least free of all the bullying, but was he meant to be happy with the bare minimum all the time? Didn’t he deserve to be appreciated too? 

When he realized, the four drinks were already gathered by the small glass passage of the vending machine. He paid, took them on both his arms and left, his head still on the clouds, his mood sour like those gasified lemonades. 

He was just turning around the corridor of the main hall when he stopped dead in his tracks. There, standing in front of an open door was one of the bullies back in Mungang. He was laughing about something one second and staring back at him in another. When his eyes widened in recognition, Beom-seok could see his own terrified face reflected in them, and like some twisted joke, he pointed at him with that excitement impossible to forget. The excitement of a hunter when he saw a prey. The excitement of a killer.

“Oh, it’s Oh Beom-seok!” 

He felt panic settle from the sole of his feet and travel all the way to the back of his neck, making his hair rise and his sweat run cold. He couldn’t think straight, his vision was starting to blur; he just knew that he had to hide, to escape from their claws and the inevitable desire they’d have to bite down on his flesh like meat. His feet were guiding him down the hall, uncertain of where exactly he was going, until he found an empty room, dark and perfectly unassuming. 

“I really saw him.” He heard his voice somewhere far off the corridor. There was the sound of others coming along, pairs of sneakers making noise against the ground. The whole gang is here. They’re all here. Everyone. 

“Are you sure?” One of them asked. Soon, another started to chant for him, his tone playful as if he was looking for a child. With the way he was crouched on the floor, trembling with his ear against the door, Beom-seok really felt like a child. 

“Try calling him!” 

It was his voice. Him. The leader. The one who always stood in the middle as they punched and kicked him, the one who held the power, the one who dictated the rules. He could feel bile rising in his throat and the urge to vomit like muscle memory, the trauma so vibrant and alive that he could feel it pumping through his veins. 

He palmed his jeans in search of his phone. If they called him, it would be the end. They’d find where he was and they would kill him right there — not before toying with him for pleasure. 

But luckily, he had left his phone in the karaoke room. The music was too loud for them to hear any calls. He sighed in relief, feeling like his soul was leaving through his every pore. Just a little more, and he’d be free to go. Just a little more, and he could pretend that none of that had ever happened, and he had had just a bad hallucination, a bad reminiscing of old times. 

Perhaps Beom-seok shouldn’t feel so bad. He had friends by his side, even if they weren’t yet that close, and they didn’t bully him. Perhaps that really was enough. To not feel that fear and that pain, to not feel threatened for his very existence. He really shouldn’t complain; he had to be careful not to take that for granted.

When he felt that the coast was clear, he quickly marched to the room, and was startled, almost upset, to find that the music was gone. The bright lights were still spinning through the bluish room, but the scene that greeted him when he finally returned made him lose his mind.

“Yes, we are at the karaoke. What’s the number of our room…?”

It was Young-yi — that fucking bitch Young-yi — with his phone. Answering their call. 

“A friend of yours kept calling.” She told him casually as if she hadn’t just ruined his life all over. Each and every bad word was not enough to describe her, and Beom-seok felt his blood boil, the gut wrenching urge to yell now impossible to contain.

“What are you doing? Are you insane?” He screamed, taking the phone from her hands brutally and canceling the call frenetically, the hopes of it all being just a hallucination quickly fading into awful reality. He was so fucking angry. That entitled bitch. “Why did you answer my phone? Damn it!” 

He hated how his eyes were filling with tears and how his voice sounded choked. He could see Soo-ho getting up from his seat next to Si-eun from the corner of his eye, but couldn’t bring himself to care. All that mattered was that his day was ruined, and if he didn’t have a reason to dislike Young-yi before, he had now. 

“Ya, what’s going on with you?” Soo-ho’s careful but stern voice made itself known. But for once, he didn’t care. The smell of rotten and soured oranges were all over the room. He wanted to commit murder. 

“Seems like you’re ready to beat me up.” That stupidly overconfident girl snapped at him, her eyes bulging dangerously as if she was the first one in the food chain. And oh, he wanted to. He wanted to beat her up so bad. 

“Shut up, you fucking-” But he refrained, the coward he was. He couldn’t lay a hand on an omega, a female omega at that, but his blood was hot and his hand was itching to give her a slap. 

Suddenly, he felt a fist on his chest pushing him backwards until he reached the wall. It was so subtle that he barely noticed if not for the calculated strength, and the dangerous scent of leather right up in his nose. And he was pissed off. This fucking nosy dude, can’t he just leave it?

“Hey, that’s enough. What’s up with you all of a sudden?” 

Soo-ho’s tone demanded an explanation, but Beom-seok didn’t have the strength to do it. He just stared at him, hoping his eyes would give all the answers he needed. He thought he carried his wounds so obviously in his body after so much pain; why did he have to explain himself? Why did he have to go through the same shit over and over again, when all he ever wanted was to live his life?

“Beom-seok.” 

Soo-ho’s eyes were wide and persistent, looking at him as if to challenge him to disobey. Si-eun had gotten up from his seat, his scent nervous and worried. Beom-seok’s unshed tears made their way to his throat, leaving him unable to speak.

“I told you to stop this.” Soo-ho told him, and it was final. He looked at Si-eun; his countenance was sincerely less threatening than the other two, and Beom-seok felt from his gaze alone that he understood. 

Because of course he did; they had both been violated, in many different ways, by the hands of bullies like them. Not something that entitled and nosy people like Soo-ho and Young-yi would understand. 

“You fucking idiot.” Young-yi hissed, almost growling at him. Her scent was stale like expired makeup products and the dirtiest sort of strawberry. Beom-seok thought it served her right. “Get the hell out of my way.” She pushed him and left the room, her irritation burning in what was left of her citric aroma. 

“Ya! Ya!” Soo-ho yelled, but got no response. Beom-seok wanted to tell him not to engage in her theatrics, to let her have her dramatic exit from their lives. He wanted to say that that was for the best; that it should be the three of them, together, just them. Always.

But he was rendered speechless. And, as always, things didn’t go his way.

“I’ll be right back.” Soo-ho sighed, and gave Si-eun a kiss on the forehead before heading after Young-yi. “Ya, where are you going?” 

Then, they were left alone. Him, Si-eun, and that mortifying silence. 

“Are you okay?” Si-eun asked him, careful and soft spoken as if talking to a dangerous animal. Beom-seok resisted the urge to laugh bitterly. 

No, of course not. How could I be okay? How could I ever be okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He wondered for how long he would keep those façades; for how long he would pretend to be someone he was not, to feel things he didn’t feel. For how long he would manage to keep his hatred under control, just enough to be justified. 

Beom-seok didn’t get to wonder too much. Soon, the sounds of excited conversation and pairs of sneakers sliding the floor went through his ears, and he knew he couldn’t escape. No matter how hard he tried, how far he went, he couldn’t escape his nature, his destiny. 

“Hey, Oh Beom-seok!”

They were all there, looking at him like he was their favorite circus attraction. They were all there, united for the sole purpose of haunting him, in plain daylight. 

“See? I told you I saw him.” One of them said, laughing with glee. Beom-seok remembered he used to laugh like that when he kicked him in the stomach and made him vomit his lunch. 

“Ya, little Beom-seok!” The other exclaimed. That one liked to punch, and to observe his suffering with a bizarre smirk. 

“How are you, Beom-seok?” The leader asked him, with his smile a little too full of teeth. He, in particular, seemed too excited; but not excited like a kid on Christmas — excited like a kid who had just found a toy they used to play with that had ended up lost. And Beom-seok was one of those toys that got destroyed, with their limbs missing and their paint losing color. “It’s been a long time.We missed you.” 

Of course you did. Beom-seok felt his hands crump into fists and his teeth grit. He asked himself who was their new toy back in Mungang. Did they ever replace him? Or did they miss how easy it was to bully him, how pleasurable it felt to hear his bones crack and how deep he wailed?

“What’s going on?” Si-eun asked. If Beom-seok was able to smell anything other than his terrified soured scent, he’d feel the threat that Si-eun posed with his bitter coffee aroma. The leader and his friends must have noticed, for he was trying too hard to be nice:

“We’re Beom-seok’s friends.” He smiled and gestured to the boys behind him. Perhaps, if Beom-seok wasn’t so deeply affected, it might’ve seemed genuine. If he wasn’t so easy to read, so quick to feel fear and despair. 

“We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Si-eun replied, cold and collected like a sharp knife. His eyes held a stormy weather inside, and Beom-seok had missed how expressive they were until now. Maybe he had other lights to share with people other than Soo-ho, even if it was of deadly sorts. 

“We want to speak to him too, since it’s been a while.” The leader chuckled, but Beom-seok could see that he was starting to get a little pissed. Lucky for him, Si-eun didn’t get intimidated easily; he had dealt with those types of people before. 

“Why don’t you come back later?” He suggested, but his tone told it was an order. The leader might’ve been a beta — a very violent one — but he had the same mindset as all those other idiot alphas: how dare an omega speak to him like that? 

Maybe it was the look in Si-eun’s eyes. Maybe it was the place, or the time. Maybe it was the promise of what could happen later. Either way, they let it go. For once.

“Right.” The leader answered, his smile utterly forced in a way to portray his annoyance. Not that Si-eun cared one bit, but still. “Sorry.” 

He looked at Beom-seok; his sidekicks were sneering and laughing. There was an awful taste in Beom-seok’s mouth at the knowledge that he wasn’t free. He had never been free. 

“Until next time, we’ll call you.” That awful beta looked at him expectantly, pointing at him like he had no choice. And when he looked at him with a serious glint in his eyes, Beom-seok thought that he really didn’t. “Pick up when we do.” 

When they left, they could hear their shared laughter, one of them muttering that he didn’t change. 

Nothing’s changed. I’m still a trapped little rabbit, stuck on a leash. 

“What was that?” Si-eun asked him, serious and even a little demanding. Regardless, Beom-seok couldn’t help but notice that his manner of speaking was always so soft even when it was invasive, even when it was threatening. 

“What?” He feigned alienation, but he knew he couldn’t fool Si-eun. Not when he had survived something ever worse in the hands of bullies. 

“Those dudes.” He insisted.

“Ah… It’s nothing.” He muttered another lie. He had no energy to tell him what that had meant, even if he wanted to. And he had pride too. 

He didn’t wait for Soo-ho to come back. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be back with Young-yi anyway. He said goodbye to Si-eun and didn’t answer him when he asked if they’d see each other at school. As he left the karaoke all alone and with his heart beating pathetically with the remains of his fear, all his anger came back full force. 

Fuck taking things for granted. Fuck his life. Fuck everything. 

As the days went on, Beom-seok’s temper only grew worse. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Soo-ho would ask him, and Si-eun would answer with silence. Truthfully, he had a feeling that something odd had been going on since Beom-seok reacted weirdly at the mention of Young-yi, and what had happened at the karaoke had only intensified it. But the only one who could explain his feelings was Beom-seok, so Si-eun, essentially, knew as much as Soo-ho. He wished he could have a proper answer, that he could save that small and fragile friendship group, the first and only group he had ever been a part of.

But when one member of said group is acting weird, everyone’s bound to notice it. At school, Beom-seok was constantly snoozy and drowsy, not paying attention in class. He got irritated easily, giving often monosyllabic answers and sarcastic comments. His scent was constantly sour to the point that it was difficult to be around him without wiggling their noses. And one particular episode had made Soo-ho and Si-eun very wary: he had screamed at a few boys who were talking loudly before class started, and even threatened to beat them up when one of them made an expression he didn’t like. Not even Soo-ho could calm him down; in fact, he said that Soo-ho should stop putting his arms over his shoulders like that, and when he questioned him, he walked away and vanished for the rest of the day. 

Si-eun really wished he could have an insight and help him. He wished he could have a factual answer for that problem, which was much more complex than a mathematical one. 

But Si-eun, regardless of how turbulent Beom-seok’s behavior was, had questions of his own. Questions that had answers and enough material for him to come up with theories.

He decided he should cast that Beom-seok-shaped problem aside whenever he got home. People often talked about work-life balance, and that labor should stay in the work environment. Well, as much as Si-eun questioned all those hyper capitalistic sayings, he figured that that one had a point; and so, he should apply it to school too, because what was school if not just another type of work? He could interpret Beom-seok as a difficult colleague in his office, and so, he had no reason to ruminate about him in his precious rest hours — which were very few. 

So, in his precious rest hours, he could rest the way he wanted to. And he loved to read. 

In two days, he had devoured all the books that the nurse Park Shin-hye had given him. They had such an easy language and the mix of historical and biological facts were so intriguing that Si-eun found himself addicted. Some of them had pictures, like the one about reproduction and childbirth, — the image of the anatomy of a pregnant male omega settled in his mind quite uneasily; he remembered studying that in middle school. It was not a good time — and others depicted customs with beautifully illustrated wedding ceremonies that used to be held in ancient societies between alphas and omegas. 

But one book in particular called his attention. The Signs Of A Courting Ritual by Synovian Carlyle, an Irish alpha, professor of sociology at Oxford University.

It was a very simple, 50 page long book which stated the phases of a mating process. It was attached to a research the professor had done about different mating rituals in many cultures throughout history — Si-eun was surprised to find that a few isolated societies, like some indigenous groups around the world, weren’t adept of courting at all, while many other ethnicities had wildly different courting customs. That was the book he had read the fastest, in only one sitting, and he was already dying to buy other books by professor Carlyle and see more of his research. 

But all the while, a weird feeling struck in his chest as he read, and as he uncovered more and more about those sub-gendered mysteries he was so ignorant about. 

During the Middle Ages, between the richest families and the royalty, it was common for the alpha to display interest in an omega by giving them gifts. An omega disputed by many alphas could receive many gifts at a time, and it was the omega’s family’s job to decide which one they were going to marry. Usually, this meant that the more expensive the gifts, the bigger the chances of mating, and therefore, marriage. The lower class alphas adapted this custom by gifting their desired omegas homemade gifts, showcasing their care and ability, or other personal items. 

Si-eun’s nose twitched as he read the paragraph. He was wearing Soo-ho’s blue windbreaker at that very moment, with his scent still ingrained in it, although not as strong. A personal gift to show their care. Idly, he thought about all the things Soo-ho had bought him when he was in heat and the recent study materials that he gave him. Expensive gifts. 

His nose twitched again. He continued to read.

As humanity progressed and different societies were built, one thing remained true in all of them: the alpha sub-gender was dominant, and the omega sub-gender, subservient. While this brought numerous problems and caused immense suffering along the history of all human communities, the courting processes continued to flourish along the sub-genders. 

In the prehistoric societies, the alphas, typically the alpha males, were responsible for the hunt, while the omegas were left to take care of their offspring and, later on, of the plantation fields. It was very common for young alphas in search of a mate to show off their strength; when they came back from the hunt, the alphas made sure to make their desired omegas aware of their dead prey, highlighting both their physical strength and their ability to bring them nourishment. It was in those ancient times that a widely spread habit began to form: the alpha would feed their omega the best parts of the meal with their own hands. 

Si-eun felt the tip of his fingers twitch as his blood flow increased. He could feel his heart beating faster and, to his utter mortification, his cheeks heating up. He couldn’t possibly be getting paranoid over a simple history book, now could he? 

But then again. Soo-ho had displayed his strength many times: when he beat Young-bin to a pulp; when he handled Seok-dae, who was taller and bigger than him, just fine; when he carried those heavy boxes filled with beverages without breaking a sweat. 

And he had cooked for him. Several times. 

And he had fed him. With his bare hands. 

He breathed in deeply and slapped his cheeks. Focus, Si-eun. Honestly.

While many courting rituals stopped being practiced as the generations progressed and eventually died, many of the ancient customs remain alive and intact in the present day, although with modern alterations. The more subtle courting signs are shown in the behavior of the alpha, who will most likely start to act protectively towards their omega, and this can be shown by physical acts such as scenting. When the courting process is advanced, it can be discussed the possibility of the alpha spending a heat with an omega. It’s unusual and, therefore, frowned upon when the contrary occurs and an omega offers to spend a rut with the alpha of their choice. 

Regardless of social perceptions, the courting process remains a fascinating phenomenon that has lasted through humankind since its very beginnings. 

Si-eun closed the book with a thoughtful crease between his eyebrows. His brain was working overtime, thinking of all the interactions he had had with a certain alpha ever since they met. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more he felt confused. His heart was unstable, accelerating and slowing down at any given moment, and his eyes couldn’t seem to shut down even as the hours passed. And on the tip of his tongue, there was a question:

Was Soo-ho courting him?

Did he have that in mind? And if so, why didn’t he let him know? Was he even aware? Did he want to pursue a more serious relationship with him or were they just going out? Was he just… A fling? To him?

The thought was terrifying. It made Si-eun shudder and cover himself further with Soo-ho’s windbreaker as if he was in the middle of the cold streets in the pouring rain. It couldn’t be true. Soo-ho wouldn’t do that to him… Would he?

It was a miracle that he even went to sleep that night. He had troublesome dreams, but when he woke up, startled by a phone call, he didn’t have the energy to remember them. To his surprise, Soo-ho was calling — and he really shouldn’t be surprised since Soo-ho was the first person he spoke to in the mornings. But what really struck him was the fact that it was 5 am. He had slept for four hours at most. 

Stupid second-guessing overthinking brain.

As it turned out, Soo-ho wanted to meet him to exercise. It wasn’t uncommon for people to wake up early to jog, but Si-eun couldn’t say he was used to it. Nonetheless, he said yes, because when could he ever say no to Soo-ho?

The alpha had taken him to a park to practice running and his so-called fighting skills, but really, it was just another excuse to make out, and Si-eun was very much aware of it when he put on his barely used gym clothes and sports shoes. “Remember, protect your chin, protect your chin!”, all for him to rub his cheeks and pinch them and give him a kiss on the lips when he was off guard. Honestly, I don’t think we’re making much progress here. And all the while, when the taste of Soo-ho was fresh on his tongue and his scent ingrained in his memory like his own, he kept thinking about that damn courting book. 

When he was resting, with his head on Soo-ho’s shoulder, he felt the immense urge to question him about it. The silence was comfortable, Soo-ho’s scent was so good, and his skin felt always so soft whenever they came in contact; but he wanted to disturb that for the sake of knowing. After all, Si-eun hated not knowing things. 

“Soo-ho, I wanted to ask-”

“Did you talk to Beom-seok?” He interrupted him, seemingly with no intention to. When he noticed it, he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, sorry babe, I didn’t mean to cut you off. What were you going to ask?”

Si-eun sighed, feeling all his courage vanish. Soo-ho had unknowingly reminded him about a bigger problem, and Si-eun felt silly to even question anything after that. 

“Oh, It’s nothing.” He dismissed, quickly changing the subject back to Beom-seok. “No, I didn’t talk to him.”

Soo-ho hummed, apparently lost in thought. Thankfully, he did pry any further about what Si-eun wanted to say. Somehow, he knew that, if it was important, Si-eun would let him know some other time. Si-eun almost smiled with that realization.

“I think there’s something wrong with him.” Soo-ho went on. The vibration of his voice on his neck was pleasant to Si-eun. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“Should we go to his house later?” Si-eun asked.

Soo-ho grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, as he had done so many times before. Si-eun’s belly warmed pleasantly with his kiss, yet the question was still there. 

“Yeah, I think we should.” 

Soo-ho didn’t hesitate to take them there after school, even if they were about to face confrontation. Beom-seok was their friend now; they might’ve been both loners all their lives, but they knew that friends were supposed to be there for one another when things got difficult. Besides, they needed an explanation; Si-eun was sure that those guys were bad news, he could smell their poison from far away minutes after they had left the karaoke room. He had a feeling that Beom-seok was being chased by bullies yet again. 

They arrived at a very fancy apartment complex, and although the doorman — concierge for the rich — was a little suspicious of them, he eventually let them in, thinking two school boys would mean no harm. Next thing they knew, they were knocking on Beom-seok’s door, failing to conceal their anxiousness. 

When their friend opened the door, he stood there for long seconds, staring at them like he couldn’t believe they were actually there. 

“What are you two doing here?” He looked utterly miserable, like he hadn’t slept or showered in three days. But he didn’t look angry, which was progress.

“Why is your phone turned off all the time?” Soo-ho inquired, his lips in a thin line. Si-eun could feel his annoyance radiating through him, contained. 

“I didn’t realize.” He lied. Because of course he did. “Come in.”

“Why didn’t you go to school, huh?” Soo-ho entered without much ado, walking around and sticking his nose into things like he owned the place. Si-eun almost felt the urge to apologize in his name like an embarrassed middle aged wife whose husband was just too comfortable in his skin. Now that’s a weird comparison, isn’t it? “Your house is fancy as hell!” 

Certainly not; at least the “too comfortable” part. Si-eun had yet to get used to the way Soo-ho walked so confidently and swaggy with his hands in the front pockets of his pants. Such an alpha. He hated how he was attracted to that. Or maybe it was just Soo-ho. 

“I wasn’t feeling very well.” Beom-seok answered. They stood in silence for some time, the only sound was the frequent comments from Soo-ho about how that house was gigantic and how it was possible to lose weight walking around it — “that’s the reason why you’re so thin!”. All the while, Si-eun kept his focus on what really mattered: the person that that huge house sheltered. 

“You’re feeling really bad?” He asked, wishing Beom-seok would elaborate. But as he always did, he brushed it off, shrugging and shaking his head like that would alleviate all his problems. 

“No, just a little.”

Si-eun sighed, but didn’t say anything else. The silence was again filled by Soo-ho:

“Wow, your mom is really pretty. Your family looks so happy in this picture.” The boy commented, looking amazed at a family portrait. Although it was indeed a pretty picture, Si-eun couldn’t help but feel like it was purely artificial, like those photos that came attached to smaller portraits for display. “And all the family members look alike.”

Soo-ho didn’t know, but that was not a good thing to say. Si-eun wished he would just shut up for once. 

“They’re not my family.”

They were all silent for an uncomfortable minute. Si-eun and Soo-ho exchanged surprised glances for a second, and when Si-eun turned around, Beom-seok looked so tired. 

“My dad adopted me publicly when he got into politics. To make his public image better.” He explained, his response almost like a fatigued sigh. The silence remained for long seconds; they just didn’t know what to say. When Soo-ho lifted his hand to scratch his neck, just like he always did when he was nervous, Si-eun didn’t suppress the reprehensive side-eye he gave him. This embarrassment serves you well for being so inconsiderate. 

“Do you guys want to drink anything?” Beom-seok offered. Si-eun nodded, and in his desperation to end that awkward moment, he failed to realize just how often Beom-seok offered them things; as if he was always responsible for their comfort and well-being, much like a housekeeper would. 

When they were settled by the — ridiculously comfortable — couch, with watermelon juice on the coffee table, Si-eun contemplated if he should be more direct. Since Soo-ho made the effort to take them there, he decided to give it a try on a more emotional conversation for once.

“Is something happening?” He asked, careful and calm, but still incisive. He could feel Beom-seok’s nervousness by the way he shifted on the armchair. The scent blockers he was using when he first arrived at school seemed to be long gone; he smelled like expired coconut and acidic oranges. 

“N-no.” He lied, the most obvious lie yet. Si-eun resisted the urge to sigh, but Soo-ho didn’t. He rested his hands together on his lap, his jaw was clenched and while he avoided Beom-seok’s gaze, his words carried an implied order for him to speak. 

“Ya, what’s going on?” He flicked his right hand, pointing to himself. “Tell me.” 

Still, Beom-seok continued to be quiet. Si-eun considered it his call.

“Is it…” He started, tentatively. He had a feeling Beom-seok knew what he was going to say. “Because of those guys at the karaoke the other day?” 

“At the karaoke? What guys?” Soo-ho frowned, his voice startled. There were other guys there? In the room? With Si-eun? He bit his tongue, feeling his blood pump faster through his veins. 

Before he could make any more questions that would certainly deviate from the focal point of the conversation, Beom-seok spoke amidst all his reluctance. 

“I was bullied… At my previous school.” He admitted. Even with his heartbroken expression, Si-eun couldn’t say that he was surprised; but his pain was shared, it was something Si-eun knew by heart, tattooed in both their skins out of spite. “I had to go to the hospital many times because of them. That’s why I changed schools too.” 

He paused for a minute, his eyes black as obsidian, mesmerized by horrifying memories. 

“After bumping into them at the karaoke, they keep calling me.” Beom-seok frowned a little, exhausted. “Asking me to meet them.” 

“That’s horrible.” Soo-ho mumbled after a while. Si-eun could smell his discontent, and he didn’t need to look at him to know that the veins in his hands were popping while he curled them into fists. “Why did those assholes do that to you? What did you do wrong?”

He stared at Beom-seok then, and they seemed to share the same feeling. What did I do wrong?

“It’s what they do.” Beom-seok nervously stated, gesturing with an agitated hand. “Intimidate people to become closer to one another and elevate their status.” He sighed, and by his reddish eyes and the way his Adam’s apple kept bobbing up and down, Si-eun suspected he wanted to cry. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I was just living my life.”

“It’s fine, Beom-seok.” Si-eun said it so sincerely. His voice was weaker than ever, but the way he looked at him was not. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

They stayed in silence for some time, just absorbing everything. Si-eun wished he had more to say. He wished he had more to give to him, other than his sympathetic gaze and moist eyes. He wished he could do something. 

Apparently, the alpha by his side was thinking the same thing. Only to a much bigger degree.

“Call these motherfuckers.” Soo-ho said — ordered — with his most determined stance. Si-eun shivered a little by his side, unsure if it was due to Soo-ho’s angry pheromones or to his own fear. He looked at him startled and disbelieved. 

“What?” But the question came out of Beom-seok’s mouth. He looked as surprised as him, yet Si-eun could feel the terror in his heart deeper than anything else in the room. If Beom-seok was fearful, he wasn’t as much as him. 

“I’ll make them apologize. Call them.” Soo-ho told him, his decision already made. For a terrified beta such as Beom-seok, Soo-ho seemed like the perfectly reliable alpha who he could lay his worries on. He was strong, assertive, and certainly didn’t back out from a fight. If he was telling him he would make them apologize, — that he somehow could make it work, that he could set him free — then how could he ever refuse? 

The decision was made for him even before he said yes. And all the while, Si-eun watched him warily, his stare cautious like he was a prophecy of bad news. 

Si-eun waited until they were in front of the building’s main entrance to call Soo-ho out. 

“Soo-ho, what are you thinking?” He asked, his voice sounding louder and more exasperated as he was expecting. Soo-ho turned to see him with interrogation in his eyes, his hands occupied with the red helmet which would soon go to Si-eun’s head. “It’s not good to face those bullies, they always fight back, they don’t let go. Don’t you remember what happened the other time?”

Soo-ho’s gaze went grim. Si-eun felt like he had touched an open wound with the way he gripped the helmet tightly and clenched his jaw yet again.

“Of course I remember what happened the other time.” He told him, slowly and seriously, perturbed. His next words came adorned with his tone of command, unwavering. “That’s why you’re staying out of this.”

Si-eun frowned, feeling that familiar anger surge through him like it did everytime Soo-ho ordered him around. 

“What?” 

“If they don’t see you, then you have nothing to do with it. If they wanna fight back, they can fight me.”

Si-eun scoffed, shaking his head slightly. 

“Soo-ho, I’m not gonna let you put yourself in danger alone.”

Soo-ho sighed, putting the helmet on the motorbike’s seat. His warm hands found home in Si-eun’s cheeks next, and he hated how that was enough to calm him down tremendously. He was supposed to stand his ground, not purr like a touch-starved pup. Arg, I think that nickname actually suits me-

“I’m not gonna actually fight them, sweetie.” Soo-ho insisted, his full lips turning into a very tempting pout. Si-eun breathed in slowly, sipping pinewood like water. “I’m just gonna make them apologize. Just a little pressure.”

“Why do you have to do this?” Si-eun whined. His hands settled on the taller boy’s wrists as a silent beg. Please don’t do this. 

“Because our friend is suffering.” Soo-ho answered him, the most sincere look in his eyes.

And Si-eun’s heart soared. Bled. Collapsed. Imploded. 

Because that made so much sense. Of course Soo-ho would do that. There was no way he could have expected anything different from him. 

That was the boy — no, the man. The alpha. The human — he had fallen in love with. The one who always did everything for the ones he cared about, for the ones he loved. The one who went out of his way to defend the weak. The one who wore his feelings like armor, the one who had the truest heart. 

And Si-eun loved him, he loved him so much.

That’s why he couldn’t bear to be away from him then. Wherever Soo-ho went, he went after him.

“Fine. But I’m going with you.” He stated. As much as his tone didn’t make room for contestation, Soo-ho frowned, clearly disagreeing. 

“No, you’re not-”

“I am. And that’s the end of discussion.” It was decided, no matter how much Soo-ho’s overprotective alpha senses tried to intervene. 

With Soo-ho’s tired sigh and annoyed eye roll, Si-eun smirked, proudly defiant. He got out of Soo-ho’s touch, hopped on the motorcycle’s backseat, and looked at his angry alpha with a plain expression. “Now take me to cram school.”

Soo-ho sighed again, but nodded, accepting his defeat. 

“Yes, sir.” He mumbled. He grabbed the helmet in his hands, but before he put it in his omega’s head, he paused, contemplating his next request. It didn’t take long for him to spill it. “But only if you promise me one thing.”

Si-eun stared at him as if he was stupid, but decided to give him his time of day. He knew Soo-ho would give him a ride one way or another, yet he was always willing to indulge him; it made his heart do weird pirouettes that he couldn’t decide whether were pleasant or not.

“What?” He asked, trying not to look down at his watch. But Soo-ho’s eyes were pleading and wide, capturing Si-eun’s attention in an alluring swirl. 

“Don’t do anything harsh. I want you to be as quiet as possible. I don’t want any of those guys to even think about laying a hand on you.”

His voice sounded careful, as if he had counted every letter and syllable. He was looking at Si-eun so intensely that the boy felt a shiver running down his spine. He was naked under his gaze, stripped bare for that alpha to see his blood veins. 

“You’re talking as if we’re going to war.” His cheeks were burning, burning. Si-eun had to look away. 

“I’m serious, Si-eun-ah.” Soo-ho insisted further, approaching the boy until their eyes were at the same level. As much as Si-eun didn’t want to face him, he had to admit that Soo-ho’s chocolate pupils were hypnotizing — and his feelings were so impossible to deny. “Promise me.”

Si-eun swallowed all his complaints. They had to reach an understanding. 

“I promise.” He nodded. Only then Soo-ho relaxed, sealing their promise with a kiss. Si-eun melted like butter with the taste of his lips, and he wondered if that would ever change; if he would ever get tired, if he would ever get bored, if his blood would stop singing and his heart would stop beating so fast. 

And he wished, truly, that it would never change. 

“Let’s go, my number one boy.” Soo-ho put the helmet on his head, tapping it and muttering a shy cute before sliding in the front seat. The force of the wind didn’t swipe away the redness on Si-eun’s cheeks. 

The wariness that had installed in Si-eun’s heart turned out to be a truthful warning after all. He wished he had listened to it.

“Take your hands off me!” Beom-seok snapped. He shrugged Soo-ho off with an uncharacteristic rudeness that had only been manifesting recently, like a silent beast awakening. “You’re suffocating me!”

Soo-ho breathed in slowly. For once, Si-eun couldn’t interpret it; was he out of breath? Or was he just pissed off?

“Right, right, I’m sorry.” He brushed it off, sliding his arm over Beom-seok like he always did. But that seemed to be an awful trigger, for Beom-seok pushed him with even more force, his eyes burning with rage. 

“I told you not to put your arms around my shoulders.” He complained. That expression of his was that of angry disappointment. Si-eun couldn’t understand. What had changed? “Why do you keep dragging me around?”

The small silence that followed was charged. Si-eun could see Soo-ho’s face morphing into annoyance, the anger surfacing in every pore of his skin.

“What?” He asked, his tone only just a little bit threatening. Si-eun could feel his palms sweating, the nervousness making him delirant. 

Beom-seok looked at Soo-ho with heartbreak, like the alpha had broken a thousand promises. His problems were no longer just possessions, but a part of him, and he had to lash out at someone or else he would collapse. Soo-ho just happened to be the personification of everything that made him insecure, of everything that made him feel lesser than. 

And he had to be responsible for it.

“Why do you keep giving me orders? Do I have to stop when you tell me to stop? Do you know what those guys did to me? Do you have any idea?” With every question, he hoped to make Soo-ho feel even an inch of his pain. He hoped to throw jabs at his heart and make him bleed and retch, much like himself in the past; that past that was oh, so recent, so alive.

“When did I give you orders?” Soo-ho barked back, his voice higher and angrier. Beom-seok felt a weird satisfaction grow inside him. He was releasing all that pent-up energy towards someone who clearly felt so much better than others, and it felt so good.

“You gave me orders!” He yelled. “Do I have to stop when you tell me to stop? Am I your subordinate?” 

Soo-ho looked disbelieved. In his eyes, Beom-seok could see the reflection of his own heartbreak, but he didn’t feel sorry. Not for Soo-ho, nor for himself.

“Look,” Soo-ho sighed, almost pleading. And when they shared a look, they seemed to share, also, the same feeling. “what did I do wrong?” 

Beom-seok wanted to snort. The alpha went on.

“I wasted time and effort to help you. What’s your problem?” He was holding himself off, trying not to be violent. A smaller hand grabbed the cloth of his school shirt in a silent beg.

“Hey, let it go.” Si-eun tried to interfere, but his voice sounded insignificant even to his own ears. He felt diminished by the tension in the room, like he was being forcefully shrunk, intimidated. 

“Help me?” Beom-seok tried to scoff, but his voice was hoarse and choked with tears. “What? Are you expecting gratitude?” As his anger progressed, his tone got higher, and he felt like he was spitting the venom accumulated in his heart. It felt awful, but also extremely good. “Should I pay for your services?”

Beom-seok could see the exact moment when Soo-ho had had enough. His eyes were dark and his mouth was half open when he shoved him to the wall, no calculated strength this time. He was filled with wrath, so much so that their scents could mingle in battle. Si-eun, staring at them by their side, was like an invisible spectator, which only added to his consternation. 

“What was that?” The alpha growled, his voice dangerously low. Beom-seok gulped, but didn’t show any more signs of fright. “Why don’t you say that again?” He threatened, his countenance dangerous with the promise of his unsaid violence. “Say that absurd again.”

“Let him go first.” Si-eun intervened, his hand wrapping around Soo-ho’s wrist in an attempt to calm things down, or at least, make them less ominous. He hoped his scent wasn’t too nervous, or else it would give Soo-ho all the more reason to be pissed off. He hated when he was nervous.

He managed to take Soo-ho’s hands off Beom-seok, but he had a feeling that he wouldn’t have been so obedient if it were anyone else at his place. He was still looking murderously at Beom-seok, his lips parted as if he couldn’t breathe through his nose. 

And when Si-eun turned his head to the side, Beom-seok’s eyes were moist, his countenance devoid of any hope, of any desire to live further. He looked at them so hurt. And when the silence was too much to bear, he just sighed and left, muttering a bad word under his breath. 

Si-eun, still a little shocked, took some time to call his name. 

“Ya, Beom-seok!” He tried, but the boy kept walking until he was out of their sight. What had they done wrong? Why was he so mad because they prevented things from getting uglier? Weren’t they supposed to be friends? Wasn’t that what friends were supposed to do?

“That fucking idiot.” Soo-ho grumbled, his right leg moving anxiously and his hands crumpled into fists under his pockets. Si-eun breathed in slowly, determined to get to the bottom of that.

“I’m going after him.” He said, moving to the direction Beom-seok had left. But a warm hand grabbed his arm, forbidding him to go on any further.

“Leave it.” Soo-ho told him, his eyes tired and mellow. “Just leave it.”

“But-”

“We’ll talk to him later. He’s still angry, he won’t want to speak to you. Let’s wait for him to calm down.” Soo-ho’s tone was final, although Si-eun had a feeling he wouldn’t stop him if he truly wished to talk to Beom-seok and make amends. However, Si-eun could see that he was right, no matter how anxious he was to right their wrongs. 

And so, the omega sighed, and gave his alpha a bear hug. Not that he was the most skilled at hugs, but Soo-ho just made every physical touch easier.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He muttered. His head was tucked comfortably under his chin, so his voice came out muffled. Si-eun could stay that way for the rest of his days. 

Soo-ho chuckled weekly, his arms tightening around the smaller boy’s waist. He breathed in his scent deeply and kissed his hair. 

“Thank you.” 

As he walked down the street, Beom-seok vaguely wished that one of them would come looking for him. Maybe it was unconscious; he was used to needing someone else’s help all the time. It wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, but since he had a weak body, he couldn’t rely on his own strength alone. His intelligence was also average, no matter how many times people told him he looked like a brainy nerd, and so he couldn’t count on his problem-solving skills either. Befriending Soo-ho and Si-eun had been a way to survive too. Those schools could be wilder than the jungles and ancient fields of their wolf ancestors. 

At some point, he felt a vibration in his pocket. He took his phone out of it and, just as his heartbeat was starting to slow down, it came back full force. The unknown numbers on the screen were already memorized by him. They were calling. Their leader was calling. He was still being chased.

He should’ve known that, no matter what they did, it wasn’t going to work. He should’ve known they wouldn’t give up. He should’ve known he’d never be free. 

He started walking at a quicker pace. If he had to calculate, he’d say they were far enough away for him to leave the neighborhood without being noticed. But for that to happen, he had to run, and his legs were weak like jelly. His head was also pounding, as if the tears he didn’t leak had accumulated and swollen in his brain. 

So he just kept walking fast. He could hear their voices swearing at him in his mind. It was all so vivid. 

Lost in thoughts, Beom-seok didn’t realize where he was going. When he turned around the corner, he had an unpleasant surprise. 

“Isn’t that Oh Beom-seok?” A familiar voice asked. He blinked, his vision blurry without his glasses; but those silhouettes were easy to recognize. 

He had bumped into Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon, of all people; of all the nights and of all the places. And they weren’t alone. There were about six people in total and most of them Beom-seok had never seen at school. They were relaxed by their supplies of nicotine, but Beom-seok knew better than falling for that carefree look; just one poke and they would snarl like bestialities. 

“You’re not wearing glasses.” Jeong-chan noticed, the smoke of his cigarette swirling over his face. Beom-seok didn’t even have the time to make an excuse or be worried, for the protagonists of his nightmares found him soon enough. 

“Ya, Oh Beom-seok!” Their leader was angry, foaming at the mouth like a starved wolf. Beom-seok didn’t acknowledge them with anything other than a side glance, hoping his feat wouldn’t be too noticeable. But he could see the way Jeong-chan shifted in the sidewalk he was sitting on, lifting his eyebrows in curiosity. The atmosphere had changed; it was as if different packs had taken notice of each other.

“Come with us.” The leader of the gang ordered him, but Beom-seok didn’t move. He didn’t think he’d be able to.

“Who are them? Worms?” Jeong-chan asked, a malicious smile creeping on his face. There, Beom-seok could see; he could feel it, deep in his bones: bumping into Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon had been a strike of luck, however perverse that might sound.

The hierarchy was clear and established, simply by their pheromones in the air, by their postures and their growing fangs. It was a battle of wolf clans, two dangerous gangs about to prove their worth. And, meanwhile, Beom-seok was the judge.

“Oh yeah.” Tae-hoon laughed. 

“He’s a rich boy, huh?” He smiled wickedly, suddenly appearing very interested. Beom-seok remained silent and still, paralyzed. Something great was about to happen, he knew. He could feel it by the static energy around them. 

The leader paid them no mind, but Beom-seok could smell his frightful uncertainty. He could feel it too.

“I told you to come with us, you dick.” He growled, but his scent was distasteful and hesitant. It was the first time Beom-seok ever saw him so stressed, and he relished to know that he was the reason. He wanted to be the reason for his pain; it was a fair treat. 

“Waaa.” Jeong-chan got up. Nothing seemed to keep that sarcastic smirk off his face, not even his cigarette. “This entitlement is pissing me off.” He put his bud down, his eyebrow creasing as his smile only grew. “Should I teach you a lesson?” 

These Mungang fuckers are weirdly quiet, Beom-seok thought. There were no laughs or funny comments, and their leaders eyes were devoid of that psychotic glint they usually had. Beom-seok felt the great urge to laugh at how ironic that was; he found the bullies’ aggressors. The analogy of the food chain had never been truer. 

“How lucky. I was needing money anyway. You got a lot of money, don’t you?” Jeong-chan went on until he was wrapping his arms around the leader’s shoulders. Beom-seok almost shivered with the déjà vu he got. He could feel Soo-ho’s touch fresh on his slim body, so much that it touched his bones. 

“No need to be scared, we’ll just talk for a bit.” One of the guys in Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon’s gang said, his tone clearly provocative. There were many reasons to be scared, yet Beom-seok felt no pity. He followed them a few good steps behind, and as he did so, he sensed his soul slip away.

They ended up in a subterranean parking lot, which was mostly empty. Since there was nobody else around, they could do whatever they wanted. Beom-seok only ever dreamed of seeing those guys so wrecked. There was a charm to their violence that was almost pure and alluring, something that made his fists clench, like an itch. An itch that could not be relieved until his hands came in contact with that guy’s face, painting it red. 

He didn’t know what he was waiting for. He was just standing there, watching as his horrifying abusers kneeled on the ground, receiving punches and kicks and threats. They made it look so easy, Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon. They made it look so smooth, so effortless, beautiful even, as if it was some sort of art. The way they were held by pain and fear was ritualistic in a sense, and Beom-seok wanted to participate. 

But while he couldn’t, he just watched. Watched as Jeong-chan extorted money from those rich pricks directly into his account. Watched as Tae-hoon perfected his punches and kicks. He watched, unaware that he was being watched too. 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

Those words were directed at him. They were pure and sincere, enveloped in venom. That hideous, hideous beta dared to threaten him when he was kneeling at somebody else’s mercy. He dared to curse him when Beom-seok had dreamed of him for so long that he had memorized all his blows and hits. They were still there, engraved in his body, tattooed somewhere deeper than skin. 

It was his call. He couldn’t contain himself then. He saw red.

“Why this dirty look, huh, you prick?” He kicked him in the head. Hard. His body fell down on the ground pathetically. “Do you have something else to say?” 

He loved the rush of adrenaline that cursed through his body. The gang’s leader looked so surprised, as if Beom-seok wasn’t completely justified; as if he couldn’t see it coming. But he had it coming, he did. He did, and Beom-seok was gonna make him pay for all his suffering — if it was even possible to pay for that much.

“You little shit. You fucking bastard.” He kicked him in the stomach, and then on the side of his face, then on his legs. Again and again. “You fucker.”

“He went crazy.” Jeong-chan pointed at him, looking amazed at a surprised Tae-hoon. Beom-seok registered their laughs at the back of his head, but couldn’t bring himself to care. All his concentration was in that body on the ground who he wanted to destroy forever.

“Beom-seok, do it right. You’re being too soft!” Tae-hoon yelled at him, encouraging him further. It was all he needed to double his strength.

“I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker.” He told him as he kicked him in the ribs repeatedly, trying to make him understand that he held the power now. He was the one in charge of his suffering, and it felt too good to be true. 

“Yeah!” The other guys cheered him. He felt like a god. 

“You asshole!” Another blow, another hit. 

“He’s got it right, now!”

“You trash!”

And another, and another, until the boy begged him to stop. Until he had tears and snot covering his eyes. Until he clutched his hands over his stomach like he was about to vomit. And Beom-seok could see: could see it all again, the numerous ways he did that to him back in Mungang. The way he laughed sadistically and left him to die. 

“Say it again, shithead.” 

When the boy seemed to have passed out, Beom-seok finally stopped. The other ones, kneeling by their leader’s side, seemed terrified enough to not say anything. The silence that followed echoed in Beom-seok’s ears to the point it made him practically deaf. It was like the aftermath of a drug; an addictive one.

“Are you done? Let’s grab a drink.” Jeong-chan called him. Beom-seok turned to face him with a startled glint in his eyes. That bully — he sounded so friendly. His smile was almost beaming, as if violence was a treat, and Beom-seok had pleased him with it.

With his feet tingling and hurting from impact, but with no regrets, Beom-seok thought he had nothing else to lose. 

“Sure.”

The next few days at school were awkward at first.

Beom-seok still seated next to him, but on every lunch break, he sat with Young-bin’s former sidekicks, Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon, as if they were old friends. Si-eun couldn’t help but lay his eyes on them, a mix of curiosity and indignation. A part of him hoped they would stare at him back and pick up a fight, another wished they wouldn’t ever notice it. 

But his side looks weren’t as pointed as Soo-ho’s, who glared at them with every ounce of hate in his body. Si-eun liked to think he knew him well by now, and he knew he was hurt. Behind all that prideful anger, Soo-ho was hurt by the loss of a friend. They didn’t even have the time to become properly close — perhaps that was what hurt the most. 

Soo-ho discounted that anger and that loss on Si-eun himself, by giving him mindblowing french kisses that could make the most stoic person blush from head to toe. Si-eun couldn’t say he was bothered by it — quite the contrary — but after the fifth day of his lunch break being spent on vigorous kissing, he had had enough of silence. 

“Soo-ho.” He called him just as the boy was about to kiss his neck. They were always careful not to leave marks at school, but lately, Soo-ho has been a little sloppy on safety. They had to hide from teachers everyday, almost getting caught multiple times, not to mention the other students ugly stares. They’re just jealous, Soo-ho told him in his ear, but Si-eun still didn’t feel comfortable being in the only public relationship at the entire school. At least they didn’t have to announce it.

“Hm.” The alpha mumbled in between kisses, but he wasn’t keen on paying attention to anything other than the skin of Si-eun’s neck. The omega suppressed a shiver as he pushed, very reluctantly, the taller boy’s body from his. 

Soo-ho pouted at him. Si-eun didn’t fail to notice how his heart skipped a beat.

“Let’s talk to Beom-seok.” He said it quietly, looking into his eyes in a silent plea. He could see the crease in his eyebrows forming, could see how his pupils contracted in reflex of his distaste.

“Why do you wanna talk to that prick?” He answered, his pout not far from petulant. “What’s there to say?”

“We can say sorry and forget all of that ever happened. Let’s be friends again.” 

Soo-ho’s frown was aggressive this time, and Si-eun knew he had hurt his pride.

“Why do I have to say sorry? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I said we. I’m gonna be with you.” He held his hand to show his support, even though his touch was always cold compared to his. Just not when I’m in heat, he thought intrusively. “If you want, I can do most of the talking.”

At that, Soo-ho snorted, and Si-eun thought they were progressing on that idea.

“You? Doing most of the talking?” He raised his eyebrows, receiving an eye roll in response. Soo-ho chuckled and kissed his omega’s cheeks. “You really want to do this, don’t you?” 

Si-eun returned his eager gaze, those chocolate brown orbs always so enticing. He wondered if Soo-ho felt the same way about his eyes; if what he sang to him on that Elton John’s song meant anything in the literal sense.

“It bothers me.” He told him, his voice weak and small as he looked down at their intertwined hands. Soo-ho disentangled their fingers to pull his chin upwards and cup his chin.

“Don’t you know I do everything you want?” He told him, a small smile on his lips. And he was so sincere, so truthful, like his words came directly from his heart.

Si-eun didn’t resist the urge to kiss him.

“C’mon, before the break ends. I’ll make it quick.”

Beom-seok was sitting in front of them on his table with his arms crossed and an uncomfortable look on his face. He looked like a child about to get scolded by his parents, desperate to leave. 

They were lucky that, on that specific day, he came back to class earlier and was not accompanied by Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon. Si-eun called him and the boy came to a stop; he asked them if they could talk, Soo-ho behind him like a reluctant dog behind his owner, and Beom-seok sighed in agreement. He sat down and waited for Si-eun to say anything, but for long seconds, the three of them just stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Soo-ho was doing that thing again — scratching the back of his neck with an annoyed blush on his cheeks.

“Beom-seok-ah.” Si-eun started. His tone was serious, but his eyes betrayed his anxiousness. He just wanted things to go back to normal, back to how they were a few days before, as if they lived in a peaceful, bullying-free world. “Can’t we just move past this? Can’t we just forget what happened and be friends again?”

Beom-seok let out a quick breath. He kept turning his head to the side, but always ended up returning his gaze to the two of them. He didn’t want to get his pride hurt, that much was true.

After what seemed like hours, he finally spoke.

“I don’t recall fighting with you, though.” He told Si-eun, frowning in distaste. By his side, Soo-ho massaged his temples, already tired before speaking. Beom-seok wanted Soo-ho to apologize, not Si-eun. 

Another round of silence was installed between them. Si-eun could feel some curious stares on them, but he was used to it already. 

“Listen, Beom-seok,” Soo-ho started his speech irritably, but with the sight of Beom-seok’s clenched jaw, he breathed in slowly, with difficulty, lowering the tone of his voice. “I was just trying to help, alright? I’m sorry if it didn’t work out, or if my help wasn’t enough to make up for what those guys did to you.”

Beom-seok was still visibly angry, his scent sour and stale, but he was looking at Soo-ho directly, his lips trembling in a pout. That has to mean something, Si-eun thought. After all, Soo-ho was being honest despite his unwillingness to do this; what other proof of friendship could he want? 

“I just got really angry when I heard about what you went through. You didn’t deserve it. I just wanted those guys to stop bothering you.” He told him, and the truth in his voice was as clear as the light of day. Si-eun saw the exact moment the light of Beom-seok’s eyes changed and when they widened a bit in surprise. Ha. They got him. “I should’ve paid attention to what you said about not wanting me to hug your shoulders. I should’ve paid more attention to your feelings overall. I’m sorry.”

When Soo-ho was done, his lips formed into a thin line and his left hand held his right wrist as he waited for Beom-seok to process his words. They flew out of his mouth surprisingly easily, and he felt like he hadn’t processed them either. But Beom-seok sighed in defeat, his stance losing its former tension and his countenance looking regretful, almost wistful.

“I guess I overreacted.” He murmured, his eyes looking at nowhere in particular, lost in an empty horizon just to avoid Soo-ho’s gaze while he let his guard down. Were they both so proud to the point in which apologies became painful? “I shouldn’t have put all the blame on you. I’m sorry too.”

They didn’t shake hands, they didn’t hug, they didn’t even look at each other. But Soo-ho nodded, and his lips formed a sly smile that matched the one on Beom-seok’s mouth. Si-eun smiled slightly too, looking at Soo-ho with pride. The alpha felt warm all over; it was foolish to pretend that he didn’t love when Si-eun was proud of him. It made every chore worth it. 

“I’m glad we’re friends again.” Si-eun said, and both of them nodded. 

But in the back of the class, there were two people who were not glad. Not glad at all.

They approached him later that day on the vending machine. They heard from Young-bin that that was the place where it had all started; when he threatened Beom-seok and made everyone know about Yeon Si-eun’s sub-gender before its time. Young-bin wasn’t there now, but it didn’t mean Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon would forget. Precisely because they couldn’t, they searched for Beom-seok, and trapped him before he could even open his can of grape juice. 

“What the hell, Beom-seok?” Jeong-chan pushed him against the machine, reveling in how easy it was to do so with his skinny body. Beom-seok started to sweat the minute he noticed who had disturbed him. Jeong-chan smirked; with that amount of power, he almost felt like an alpha. 

“What-”

“Don’t play dumb.” He hissed, showing his fangs. Beom-seok gulped and shrunk further into the machine’s glass wall. “You can’t just hang out with us and then make amends with those two fuckers.”

“You gotta choose your side, man.” Tae-hoon huffed beside him, shaking his head. With a terrified little prey in front of him and a nice back up, Jeong-chan waited patiently for his answer, taking pleasure in seeing Beom-seok’s eyes search desperately for a way out. 

And, unknowingly, he found a way out. A way that would only cause him more trouble, perhaps, but a way that would allow him to breathe more easily without taking the side of the bullies forcefully — at least entirely. 

Beom-seok thought it through with the little time he had. He considered the possibilities and that was the only one he could think of. It was risky, and dangerous, and pretty much treason to his so-called friends, but Beom-seok couldn’t just be friends with them unscathed after what happened that night. He had paid Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon’s gang drinks, he had gotten drunk to the point he thought he was still hungover, he talked to random girls in an attempt to look cool and impose himself.

It hadn’t been a weird dream; it had happened, it was real. And now he had worse bullies after him. Would he ever be free?

He opened the can of his drink. The noise was like a wake up call.

“Actually, I think I can.” He drank, painting his mouth purple, thinking he could drown in it. Someone please get me the hell out of here.

“What?” Jeong-chan’s eyes narrowed. He looked downright disgusted. It didn’t need much for him to grab him by the shirt collar, suffocating him. “Do you wanna die?”

“Listen.” He told him carefully, his voice barely a whisper. “This can be beneficial for you… For us.”

Jeong-chan eyed Tae-hoon, who seemed as lost as him. His grip lost its intensity, but his hands were still a threat to Beom-seok’s pulsing throat. 

“What the fuck do you mean?” He asked, his scent that of charcoal on fire.

Beom-seok couldn’t breathe and his throat couldn’t swallow his saliva correctly. He had to be quick or else Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon would kill him right there. 

“If I stay close to them, I can get information for you. Did you know that Soo-ho works at a part time job in a restaurant? Sometimes he works overnight as a delivery boy, that’s why he’s always sleeping in class.”

Jeong-chan raised an eyebrow, still confused, but just starting to understand. Tae-hoon was still frowning, disconcerted. 

“He has a motorbike, he lives with his grandma… Si-eun lives with his dad, but it’s mostly alone at home. Do you guys get it?” Beom-seok raised his arms in a poor attempt to make peace. When he thought he had them in the palm of his hands, he closed them into fists.

“If you wanna hurt your enemy, you gotta know him first.” He smiled; bizarre, unnatural, ugly, desperate.  “That’s where I come in.”

Jeong-chan’s hands loosened until Beom-seok was free of his grasp. He was smirking now, side eyeing Tae-hoon with promise on his glint. Beom-seok felt relieved, but he knew that momentaneous escape would come back to bite him in the ass eventually.

“It’s good to have a nerd with us, ain’t that right Tae-hoon?” His arm came around Beom-seok’s shoulders, and he got war flashbacks all over again. He shivered like a weak tree branch in the wind.

“Work smarter not harder, I guess.” Tae-hoon smiled in mischief, a dangerous look in his eyes. He tapped his shoulder in a mock friendly gesture. “You better not disappoint us Beom-seokie.” 

He slapped his cheeks slightly, just a tap, but the threat was implied in the white of their teeth, smiling predatorily at him. Beom-seok’s mouth trembled, but he didn’t return their excitement. The sweat on his back was so cold it had turned to ice. 

What the hell had he done? 

Eventually, things came back to normal; as normal as they could be with the heaviness of Beom-seok’s heart. 

They had explained everything to Young-yi, and he apologized for yelling at her. She understood him, but didn’t apologize. As frustrated as Beom-seok was by that, he figured he shouldn’t be so demanding with a proud girl such as Young-yi; it was a miracle she even accepted to hang out with him again and go to his place after his rude behavior. So he let it all slide; they all put that behind them, like the strong friend group they were supposed to be.

And a friend group who had a rich friend always made the best of it. 

They were gathered in his — so big that one could lose weight — living room. They had just returned from a pleasant Saturday afternoon by the pool, and they were already dry and clean when they returned to his apartment. Si-eun was lying in between Soo-ho’s legs, his head resting on the alpha’s broad chest, his head tucked comfortably under the taller boy’s chin. He was showing them his brand new collection of omega related books, gifted to him by the new school nurse. Young-yi was painting her toenails bright red, sitting on the ground, and Beom-seok, well.

Beom-seok was just there. 

“These books are fascinating, you guys really should read them.” There was an excited glint in Si-eun’s eyes, the only expressive features on his usually bored face. “They even made me think of a few theories.”

“Well, then tell us about them, oh mighty Yeon Si-eun.” Soo-ho provoked him, kissing him in the cheek with the most obnoxiously loud smooch. He was looking at Si-eun like he was the most precious creature that had ever graced the Earth with its presence and Beom-seok wanted to vomit. 

“I think nature didn’t want male omega’s to reproduce.”

Soo-ho blinked, confused. On the ground, focused on the exact shape of her nails, Young-yi laughed. 

“If you guys want to keep the pups to yourselves, then be my guest!” She put her right feet in the air, examining the shade of red against the light of the afternoon. “If I ever get pregnant, I’m gonna vanish from the face of this world.”

“Don’t say something like that.” Soo-ho pouted, his hands wrapping around Si-eun’s waist tighter. “Puppies are precious.”

Si-eun didn’t know why, but he felt a shiver go through his spine at those words so close to his ear, along with a warmth in his belly. In fact, he felt warmer than he did all day long, but tried not to react so strongly. Soo-ho didn’t seem to have noticed. 

“That’s easy for you to say, since you won’t carry it around in your body for nine months.” Young-yi snapped back, but her eyes never left the careful work on her toes. Soo-ho rolled his eyes and rested his head more comfortably on Si-eun’s head, feeling the softness of his hair. 

“But here’s the thing,” Si-eun continued, hoping that his stomach would stop making those weird flips. “male omegas only stay pregnant for seven months at most. That’s because the shape of their hips isn’t wide enough to allow a nine month old baby to pass through it at birth. Due to this, their bellies are also much smaller, sometimes smaller than the month they’re supposed to be. Doctors tried to prove that it was due to a weaker flow of nutrients between the omega parent and the child, but they haven’t found anything of the sort.”

Soo-ho breathed in his omega’s scent slowly, relishing in the smell of books. He was so smart, he couldn’t stop finding reasons to love him more. He, who didn’t like to study, felt enthralled by every word he said, like an excellent pupil listening to his master.

“Even if the doctors couldn’t find the evidence for lack of nutrients, the babies would still need more time in the womb, but practically every pregnant omega male couldn’t hold it for more than seven months.” Si-eun went on, feeling as if he was giving a lecture. The topic was so majestic to him to the point he wondered why he had never been interested in it before. But now, he had a much bigger reason to be informed: it was who he was. “Many pups managed to survive, but many died too. Some died at the moment of birth, some died a few days after, and some of them died still in the womb.”

Young-yi scrunched her nose, a weird smile on her lips.

“How did our conversation come to the subject of dying puppies?” She snorted. Sitting in the armchair in front of them, Beom-seok was awfully quiet, just observing.

“My point is,” Si-eun continued regardless, stimulated by Soo-ho’s pleasant huffs and the way his hand subtly moved over his belly, reminding him of the times he was in heat. Nothing brought him more comfort. “male omega’s bodies weren’t designed to bring puppies into the world, but we still have a womb and we still can get pregnant. It’s like nature didn’t want us to reproduce, but still gave us a way, a choice. That’s also why male omega’s are rarer than female omegas.” 

Soo-ho frowned, thoughtful. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Si-eun nodded, certain. “It’s pure evolution. If an animal isn’t well adapted to the environment and can’t reproduce correctly, then that animal’s genes won’t survive any further. I believe male omega’s were casted aside by natural selection and female omega’s became the main bearers of children.” He concluded, receiving an immediate “cut me out of this” from Young-yi.

Soo-ho nodded, his eyes twinkling with fascination.

“Wow.” He exclaimed dumbly. A mesmerized breath escaped his lips; he couldn’t believe he had the most brilliant omega in the world right there in his arms. He felt so lucky. “You’re so smart Si-eun-ah. You’re a genius. You’re like the korean Albert Einstein.”

Si-eun snorted, the movement of his head making Soo-ho’s chin hurt in the most pleasant way. They were wrapped around each other, feeling each other’s scent all around them like a little cocoon, or a love nest, right in the middle of Beom-seok’s living room. Soo-ho never wanted to leave.

“You know that evolution was brought to the world by Charles Darwin, don’t you?” Si-eun turned his head to the side so he could look up at Soo-ho. There was a beautiful blush in his cheeks that Soo-ho didn’t fail to notice. He wanted to bite and kiss him right there. 

“So? They’re both geniuses, right? It doesn’t matter.” He replied, resisting the urge to imitate the omega’s pout. 

“Hm, I guess you’re right.” Si-eun returned to his rightful place, with his head tucked under Soo-ho’s chin comfortably. He had never felt so protected and sheltered in his life, it was almost ridiculous. “I wanna write science books one day, like Darwin, and Einstein, and Synovian Carlyle.”

Soo-ho, Young-yi and Beom-seok eyed themselves with the same question in mind:

Who the hell is Synovian Carlyle?

Soo-ho shrugged, thinking it was best not to ask. Beom-seok just sighed, not wanting to complicate his life further. And Young-yi just snorted.

“Pff. Nerd.”

They chatted until the sun went down. Young-yi painted all her nails and waited for them to dry out, even with Soo-ho’s insistence that they should leave before the traffic got bad. After witnessing the tenth argument between Soo-ho and Young-yi that day, and after thinking for the thousandth time that Soo-ho and Si-eun should get a damn room, Beom-seok finally received a much awaited call.

He excused himself and went to the kitchen, closing the sliding door with haste. Jeong-chan’s voice at the other side of the line was an impatient grunt.

“So? When can we go?” 

Beom-seok felt his heart fall down to his stomach in dread. His hands were sweating so much he thought he was gonna drop his phone. He looked to the side, listening to their muffled conversations. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Can’t believe I’m being a puppet again.

“Wait forty minutes. They’re about to leave, I think this is how long they’re gonna take to get to Si-eun’s building.”

“Ya! Who do you think we are? We’ve been waiting the whole day! Why did you have to invite them to your fancy ass pool?”

Beom-seok shut his eyes and his hands tightened involuntarily. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat.

“S-Sorry, the traffic is a little bad at this hour, that’s why they’ll take longer.” He could feel his voice failing, sounding squeaky and pathetic. “I-I c-can invite you guys over some other time.”

“Only if we can smoke and drink.” Jeong-chan grumbled. Beom-seok thought he could hear the puff of his cigarette. “Right. We’ll be there. Thanks for the info.”

“O-Okay-” But the other beta hung up on his face, leaving Beom-seok to deal with the ghost of his morality alone.

When he moved the sliding door, the three of them were tidying up, ready to leave. Beom-seok tried to conceal his nervousness; he had even bought a stronger brand of scent blockers, hoping they could no longer smell his sour oranges.

“Ya, Beom-seok!” Soo-ho approached him and was about to slide his arm over his shoulder, but quickly refrained. He cleaned his throat awkwardly, and only smiled, patting his back. “Thanks for letting us use your pool, man! Your house is amazing.”

“It’s true. It’s so fancy, I felt like a rich protagonist in the latest Tvn drama.” Young-yi flipped her hair playfully. Beom-seok managed to smile weakly.

“Then you’d have to do more as a protagonist than just paint your nails.” Soo-ho squinted his eyes at her, and Young-yi showed him her tongue.

“Thank you, Beom-seok.” Si-eun looked at him with honest gratitude, and Beom-seok felt his heart squeeze in a very familiar way. 

Why did he have to feel that way again? Why did he have to look at Si-eun’s eyes — those eyes that held the entire universe in them, who were always so truthful — and watch his own betrayal reflecting back at him? 

If only he was a little braver. If only he could stand up to bullies. If only he didn’t want that pain to repeat, and repeat, and repeat-

“Thank you guys for coming, it was fun.” He told them, holding the wails that were blocked on his throat. He opened the door, and watched as they waved at him and disappeared down the corridor. 

When he closed the door, he wished he could disappear along with them.

They arrived at Si-eun’s apartment a little later than usual, but it was night all the same. He was used to Soo-ho being in his home now, especially in the late hours of the day, which was both a good and a bad thing: good because he got to have his loved one in his familiar space, bad because he felt a stab in his heart every time he left. The walls had Soo-ho’s scent ingrained like a constant reminder; as if it was possible to forget. Soo-ho was always in Si-eun’s mind.

He felt him trailing kisses in the back of his neck, making him suppress a moan, but was unable to avoid the shiver that descended through his spine. His father was — conveniently —  away that night because of a sports event. With the feeling of Soo-ho’s lips on his tender skin, Si-eun wished his dad would just stay at the hotel. He wished he could push all his inhibitions away and ask for Soo-ho to stay. He wished they could become one right now, no matter how badly the rest of society could judge them. Nothing mattered when he had Soo-ho by his side.

And that was precisely why he had to ask:

“Soo-ho, are you courting me?”

His kisses stopped to a halt, like someone had hit a pause button. Si-eun could feel the tension in his pheromones behind him, and immediately felt tense as well. Soo-ho, always so perceptive, rubbed his hands up and down his arms, warming them both, but failing to soothe Si-eun’s worries that time.

“What was that, pup?” Soo-ho asked him, his voice low and deep, careful as if he was talking to a wild animal. Why is he careful? What is he afraid of? Si-eun wanted to scream at him with his eyes bulging out of its sockets like a hysterical omega. The pet name isn’t going to soften me this time. I need to know.

“You heard me.” Si-eun whispered. He turned around, coming face to face with Soo-ho, the slight tilt of his head not serving to intimidate him. He could see the way the alpha gulped, the way he was confused and guilty at the same time. “Are you courting me or not? I need to know.”

I need to know if you take this relationship seriously. I need to know what I am to you. I need to know you plan to take this further. I need to know if I’m not just another fling. 

Si-eun should know already. But he couldn’t trust the love he felt with his heart if even his mother left him, if even his father didn’t bother to care. If Soo-ho wasn’t courting him, then what was he doing? What were they doing? What was the point if he was just going to leave in the end anyway?

“I-I don’t-” Soo-ho scratched his neck and Si-eun felt his fingers tremble. There was a burning feeling in his chore which he didn’t know if it was anger or sadness, or both, or everything that could come in between. “Why do you ask?”

Si-eun couldn’t believe him. He could feel his eyes widening and his mouth parting in indignation. That was not the response he wanted to hear, but he figured he should be used to it by now. 

Soo-ho had made him spoiled.

“You gave me gifts. You take me home every night. You show me how reliable and strong you are. You spent my first heat with me. You kiss me and you hug me and you do everything to protect me.” He told him, feeling as if all of that should be enough. And it was. It was more than he could ask for in his lifetime.

So why did he feel so heartbroken?

“You did all of this with no intention to court me?” He asked, his voice sounding hoarse and squeaky. Soo-ho must’ve seen something in his eyes, for the next second he was holding both of his hands and looking at him with all the care in the world. Si-eun wanted to retreat from his touch, but couldn’t find the strength to do so. 

“I’m not gonna lie to you, you know I can’t lie.” Soo-ho began, and Si-eun knew that couldn’t be a good sign. He blinked until his tears dispersed, feeling pathetic and humiliated. “I didn’t realize I was courting you. I did it all because I wanted to, from the bottom of my heart, but I didn’t do it with a formal intention.” I did it because I love you so much, Soo-ho wanted to say, but feared such a confession would do more harm than good when his omega was so distressed. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so important to you.”

I didn’t know either, Si-eun snorted. He shrugged himself off of Soo-ho’s touch, but avoided the alpha’s hurtful gaze. 

“If you did it with no intention, then you weren’t courting me.” Si-eun mumbled, irritated, feeling stupid for not noticing before. Everyone else must have noticed. Everyone else but us. Perhaps they were obnoxious. “I just want to know what we are. I just want to know that this is not just a fling to you.”

Soo-ho scoffed, shaking his head, looking borderline offended. Si-eun felt like he had just insulted his grandma with the way he was staring at him with anger in his eyes and sounding so hurt.

“How can you say that this is just a fling? How can you even think that?” He raised his voice, and if Si-eun was looking for an outlet to take his anger on, he had just found it.

“What? You’re telling me you haven’t dated before?” Si-eun raised his voice to the same level, approaching him dangerously. This time, Soo-ho didn’t back down, standing his ground. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?” 

Soo-ho bit his bottom lip, diverting his gaze and laughing sardonically. Si-eun nodded to himself.

“I knew it.” He mumbled.

“Now you’re just being mean.” Soo-ho told him, his voice low and honest. He was hurt, and suddenly Si-eun regretted ever bringing it up. 

When he looked up and saw the disappointment in Soo-ho’s eyes, he felt awful. He wanted to cry and apologize until Soo-ho put him to sleep with his soft kisses and belly rubs. 

They stood in silence for some time, not quite looking at each other but not moving away an inch. Eventually, when the clock hit seven pm, Soo-ho cleaned his throat and said:

“I gotta get going. Miss Choi needs me in the restaurant for the night shift.” 

He sounded tired, almost like he was dead inside, and Si-eun hated it. His heart was beating so painfully, like every beat was a stabbing wound. Why did he have to be so stubborn and rude?

“I have to study.” He nodded instead. 

But when they looked at each other, they could see their own hurtful faces reflected. And, to Si-eun’s absurd relief, Soo-ho took a step in and asked, in the quiet of night:

“Won’t you give me my goodbye kiss?” 

Si-eun could have cried of joy when Soo-ho’s lips touched his ever so slightly. There were so many things he wanted to say, and while he was still mad, he couldn’t possibly go to sleep on bad terms with him. It was that bad. 

“I’m not gonna fight with you.” Soo-ho told him once their brief and chaste kiss ended. His lips touched his forehead, and Si-eun sighed in contentment, his eyes closing. “I refuse to fight with you, do you hear me?” He kissed his left cheek. “If it were up to me,” And then his right. “I’d never fight with you. Ever.” And then his nose. 

When Soo-ho moved away, Si-eun wanted to chase him with his mouth, but refrained. He remained still as a rock, a picture of pride and ego. Maybe he was a selfish boy after all. When it came to Soo-ho, he never knew how he would react, never knew the depths of his emotions. 

“We’ll talk about this later, ok? I’ll call you when I arrive at work.” Soo-ho told him, and his voice was like a final warning. Si-eun had no choice but to nod weakly, still a bit disoriented by everything that had happened, but he knew they would reach a common ground eventually. 

He didn’t watch Soo-ho disappear in the corridor that time, but he took him to the door and closed it until the electronic security system made its usual noise. He buried his face in the books with the consolation that Soo-ho would call him, and so the lonely night on that cold apartment became more bearable.

But the hours went by, and Soo-ho didn’t call.

The moon went up high in the sky. Soo-ho didn’t call.

By eleven pm, Soo-ho should already be home, and he still hadn’t called. Si-eun was pacing in the room looking at his phone screen with worry. Had his battery run out? Did he forget? But then again, Soo-ho wouldn’t forget; if anything, Si-eun could say he was the clingiest person when it came to letting him know of his whereabouts, or about what he was thinking or what he was doing. Soo-ho was warm and friendly, he kept in touch. 

But now, Si-eun was out of touch with him, figuratively and literally. 

He sat on his bed with his pajamas and wrapped Soo-ho’s windbreaker around him. His scent was fading away, and he cursed himself for not asking for Soo-ho to wear it again to make his smell stronger. In fact, he was cursing himself all over for his stupidity. Why did he have to be so defensive? They could’ve sorted things out quickly in a mature conversation. His trust issues were starting to ruin his life, and it didn’t make sense to blame it on his parents anymore, since the actions were his own. 

Midnight. Soo-ho hadn’t called. Hadn’t even sent a text. 

Si-eun asked where he was on their chat. Nothing. He hadn’t even seen the message. He had received a text, — which had made him jump with anticipation — but it was a message from his father saying he was going to stay at the hotel. Si-eun wanted to scream and rip his hair; he should’ve asked Soo-ho to stay. He should’ve made him disobey his boss yet again, for the sake of their understanding.

The omega inside him was whimpering in fear. He had an eerie, terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, settling like expired food. He wanted to howl at the moon, feeling so cold even with his alpha’s belongings next to him.

There was no way he could possibly go to sleep now. That night was a dark gray, illuminated with a dangerous light. 

Soo-ho, where are you? 

Chapter Text

‘CAUSE I CAN’T IGNORE IT (IF IT’S LOVE)

CHAPTER NINE — NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

…

Si-eun couldn’t sleep at all that night. 

He kept tossing and turning, trying to even out his breathing, but his brain couldn’t stop conjuring all sorts of malicious scenarios in which Soo-ho might’ve been involved. His mouth got dry and disgusting, while his stomach churned in the middle of the night, begging for him to search for food; yet, Si-eun remained in bed, suffering in the agony of not knowing. 

He hated not knowing things. 

Si-eun wondered if he was exaggerating. So what if he didn’t call? Maybe he had actually forgotten. Saturday night’s were the busiest nights of the week for the restaurant, he probably had a lot of work to do, so much that calling Si-eun stopped being so important. Perhaps he got home so tired that he just fell face first on the mattress and slept. 

And there Si-eun was, unable to keep his eyes shut for hours on end just because Soo-ho hadn’t called or texted. It was honestly pathetic.

Even with many internal conversations that tried to justify Soo-ho’s silence with rational, definitely not malevolent reasons, Si-eun still couldn’t sleep. Sunday was the only day of the week in which his alarm didn’t go off, but he never really slept later than 8:30, used to waking up much earlier. That day, however, he rose with the sun. When the light slowly went through the curtains of his window, he stood weakly, his legs tingling with the lack of circulation and his eyes heavy, burning uncomfortably. 

He had been called a zombie at least five times before in his life by random different people, but never had he actually felt like one as much as that morning. His usually inexpressive face was like a dirty reputation that preceded him, but now, followed by the hollow sensation in his heart, he feared he might actually look scary. Lucky for him, Sunday was a day in which he stayed home all the time; at least it was that way before Soo-ho showed up in his life, like a bright and warm burst of energy. Without him, he was lethargic and his existence felt bothersome as a migraine. 

He noticed that every part of his body seemed heavier. He got dressed with difficulty, and didn’t eat anything for breakfast. All he had was a cup of dark coffee and a glass of water. He sat on the sofa, his back turned to the large windows where the sun came through, and waited. 

All he could do was wait.

Si-eun didn’t know where Soo-ho lived. Although they knew each other long enough for Soo-ho to take him there, he just never got the chance to. He wished he could run to Soo-ho and his grandma’s house right now, but he had no idea where that could be. He hadn’t even said the neighborhood, and Si-eun never thought to ask before. He regretted his lack of curiosity, his fear of being too nosy, his unconscious shyness. 

But could he really blame himself? It was not like it was his priority to ask. So much had happened in their lives in such a short period of time, the good and the bad being enough to push them even more onto each other, to the point Si-eun started to think that Soo-ho was a part of him. He didn’t know when his absence had become unusual, nor when he became accustomed to his arms around him. It was as if Soo-ho lived in his ribs, in a little house made of chocolate walls with pine trees in the yard. 

He tried calling him again, but it went straight to voicemail. Another call a few minutes later, and the robotic voice at the end of the line said that Soo-ho’s phone was off or occupied. He had never felt so adrift before, like a castaway man on a deserted island, waiting for rescue. 

There was nothing else he could do, apparently. No one else he could ask. He doubted Soo-ho had said anything to Beom-seok, but even when he asked him, the beta denied to know his whereabouts.

Si-eun waited. He waited until he had no choice but to wait a little more. 

Morning turned to afternoon. He heated up some food that was in the fridge. His dad would only come home at night. Another hour went by, and another. Si-eun even tried to nap to pass the time, but couldn’t. He turned on the TV, but he couldn’t pay attention to anything, the noise was more of a nuisance than a soothing distraction. 

In the silence of his home, he waited some more.

The sun eventually went down, and he called Young-yi. 

“What? I thought he had stayed the night with you!” She was surprised by his question, and Si-eun could see her eyes bulging from the other side. 

“No, he… He left around seven pm yesterday and told me he’d call me when he got to work, but he never did.”

There was silence in the other line, the longest three seconds of Si-eun’s life.

“He didn’t come to work yesterday either, Si-eun-ah.”

That information settled heavy in his heart. Si-eun could feel it dropping to his stomach; he felt like he was going to vomit and he had barely eaten anything. But deep inside, stronger than anything, was the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Something bad had happened, not a simple misunderstanding, but bad, and evil. It was an intrinsic sentiment, similar to what he had felt that day, certain that Soo-ho would show up and save him, so sure that Soo-ho knew about the dangers he faced. 

He knew it then, and he knew it now. Soo-ho wouldn’t call, he wouldn’t text, and he wouldn’t show up.

Si-eun felt his eyes burning. He wanted to rip his hair off until he was bald. He wanted to scream and bite himself until he bled, he wanted to destroy everything in his house with his sharp wolf nails, he wanted to cry ugly tears. He wanted to die, and only come back to life once he caught a whiff of Soo-ho’s forest scent, only opening his eyes to see the red of his windbreaker and the little dimples in the corner of his mouth.

Afternoon eventually turned to night. When his father came home, he found his son with dark bags under his eyes, which were sunken with dread. He looked paler than ever before and sick to his stomach. His back was hunched and he looked weak, like an anemic patient. Had he fainted again?

“Are you alright, son?” He asked, his voice sounding more perturbed than he meant. He wasn’t ready for his son to be sick again like he used to be as a child. He had gotten used to him being quiet and responsible, not giving him an ounce of worry. He feared he’d have to take control again and take him to the hospital. 

But, to his shameful relief, his son only nodded, crossing him wordlessly to get to his room. Si-eun greeted him only with a short bow, and when he asked if he had eaten, he nodded dismissively. 

He wondered if he should ask him what was wrong — because something was, quite obviously, wrong. But his son was always so secretive; his emotions and thoughts were a mystery to him, something that Si-eun kept hidden in the depths of his soul. In the rare times he tried to pry into his son’s life to get even an idea of what was going on, he brushed him off, something akin to anger in his eyes as he shut him down with just a look.

That night, however, he had a bad feeling. So he opened his son’s bedroom door silently, hoping it wouldn’t creak so much and startle him. He hoped they could have an honest conversation for once, in which he told him the truth; not like the poor way he tried to hide his relationship with that alpha that last time.

But by the time he reached him, he was on the bed, sleeping soundly. 

Si-eun’s father sighed, defeated. He figured he had just had a bad night of sleep, and now that he was recovering it, everything would be fine.

Little did he know that his son was wide awake, and would be for the rest of the long night hours until morning came again, morbid and icy blue.

Si-eun got to school before the sun appeared behind the gray clouds. There was a thick fog covering the inclined pathway to Byeoksan, and as he walked up the hill, he felt like his legs weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn’t breathe correctly; his lungs felt compressed and small. His eyes were red from the lack of sleep, and he feared the teacher would get the wrong idea. He wished he was high on weed — at least he’d get to survive that day without feeling miserable, without feeling anything at all. 

He had been wide awake for over 48 hours and yet, he didn’t feel capable of sleeping. He didn’t see Soo-ho’s motorcycle in the parking lot, and when he got to class, he wasn’t there on his makeshift bed like he used to. The feeling of dread and emptiness only grew, and along with it came the brand new, but still familiar, feeling of guilt.

Would he be worried like that if they had just talked it through? What if he hadn’t brought it up like that? What if he hadn’t gotten mad? What if Soo-ho hadn’t left his house with that promise on his tongue? What if their misunderstanding had been cleared and Si-eun had felt comfortable enough to ask him to stay? What if he had just stayed?

He sat on his chair and stared at the table until his eyes begged for moisture and he was forced to blink. The other students came around, one by one, some in pairs, some in full groups, loud and boisterous, but Ahn Soo-ho didn’t show up. He didn’t show up after the teacher, nor did he show up when it was close to his beloved break time. His seat was completely empty, and Si-eun felt like he was seeing his ghost sitting there, with his arms supporting his head, his classic pink pillow in his right hand. 

He couldn’t hold Beom-seok’s gaze for the majority of the day, and when it was time to eat, Si-eun said he wasn’t hungry. When Beom-seok insisted, looking shaken and guilty, Si-eun brushed him off, telling him he’d eat in the classroom. There, in the few moments in which their eyes crossed each other, Si-eun could see something like regret shine in Beom-seok’s eyes, along with the certainty that both of them were pretending to be fine. Still, Beom-seok accepted his lie without resistance, and left the classroom with heavy, unfocused steps. 

They were fifteen minutes into break time when the door slid open brutally. Normally, Si-eun would catch a glimpse of anything that disturbed him of his studies, but that day in particular, he was staring at the same paragraph of his textbook for minutes, and any external factor was insignificant. 

The only thing that mattered was Soo-ho, and he wasn’t there.

If he were to catch a look, he’d see Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon standing by the door, glaring daggers at him; Jeong-chan biting the inside of his cheeks, Tae-hoon curling his hands into fists. Since the head of their target remained down, focused on his precious studies, they approached him quickly, and soon enough, they had his attention.

Jeong-chan shoved everything off the table in one single brusque move with his arms. His textbook fell down open on the floor, his pencil case went flying, scattering everything inside it. The only thing that remained still was the pen on Si-eun’s right hand, itching to become one with someone else’s flesh. 

Si-eun looked up. His eyes were red.

“Ya, you really ain’t shit without your boyfriend around, huh?” Jeong-chan laughed, his fangs yellowish from smoking and his breath unpleasantly hot. Si-eun sighed, regretting getting up from bed that morning. “Catch us after school, you prick.”

“You think you can destroy Young-bin’s life and get away with it?” Tae-hoon barked at him, his eyes wide and angry. “You’ll be dead meat today.” 

Strangely, Si-eun didn’t feel afraid; he didn’t feel his heart beating wildly. He just felt tired, and if those guys were willing to fight, then he might as well get it over with. 

“You want to avenge him?” He asked, his voice not an octave higher. He even felt a little sleepy, by the way their faces were dark and blurry. But his eyes stared at them with so much fire ; Si-eun was weirdly pleased that he’d get to take his anger out on them. “I’ll catch you right now.”

He stood up and ignored the sudden headache that took over him, making him a little dizzy. He just followed through with his steps, firm and grounded, until he left the classroom. He could hear Tae-hoon and Jeong-chan following him by the sound of their swearing. He didn’t know when he became immune to name calling, or when he stopped being offended like normal people would. Perhaps he was never normal, and the only person who had seen good in him and wanted to love him genuinely was gone, missing from his life and turning his heart into a beating wound. 

As he walked through the corridors, he felt an uncomfortable weight settle in his chest, pressing down on him, as if warning him not to do anything harsh. A strange nervousness began to appear as he breathed in slowly through his nose; what was he going to do? He didn’t have a plan whatsoever. He only had his faithful pen and all the possibilities that his brain could come up with. When he opened the door to the restroom and closed it heavily, he thought it should be enough. It had to be enough.

He heard Tae-hoon cursing under his breath, and a second later, he burst the door open, entering it furiously along with Jeong-chan. They were breathing heavily, as if they had run all the way from class, and their eyes held something else along with anger; something similar to fear — hesitation, perhaps. 

And Si-eun would take advantage of it. He’d be stupid not to.

“You two,” He started, his voice echoing through the restroom like a dangerous warning. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon’s countenances flinched a little; there were spectators watching from the door, their curiosity deadly and ugly. “are really slow learners, aren’t you?”

Jeong-chan blinked, his mouth open in confusion. His alpha friend hissed as a feline, offended by the indifference in Si-eun’s gaze. “What is that punk saying?” he muttered to himself, but everyone could see that Tae-hoon wasn’t the best at understanding references and analogies. His obsession with his own muscles had set his bar too low, but Si-eun hoped he had good body memory; his plan depended on it.

He walked. He saw both of them react, their feet trembling in place. Si-eun thought it was too soon to be proud of himself, but couldn’t shake the amazing feeling he got when they let him pass by them with no intervention, watching him close the door on all those prying onlookers who had nothing better to do. 

When he turned around, relishing in the silent privacy of that forced encounter, he felt more powerful than he should. His eyes were sharp as that of a vexed cat. 

He had locked the door. They were his to play with. And to destroy. 

“Reviewing is key when you have a bad memory.” Si-eun told them, settling their attention on him. He grabbed his pen tighter and pressed it, blue and pointed and deadly. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon’s eyes fixed on the clicking object on his hand, and he knew they remembered. They remembered how a pen, similar to that one, stabbed Young-bin on the neck, leaving him almost dead on the floor. They remembered the blood, and the agony, and the screams. 

But Si-eun remembered too. He remembered how they held him down, how they let that disgusting friend of theirs stick his hands inside his pants and violate his body. He remembered how he cried, and how he shook his legs and arms which they held so strongly. He remembered how they laughed and went on with their abuse with the promise that they would get to do something to him too. Si-eun remembered it all.

So, he had no reason to refuse confrontation. 

Pavlov’s dog experiment. You ring the bell.

He clicked his pen again. They retreated in fear. 

You feed the dog. The dog salivates.

He took a step forward. They took two steps back.

You ring the bell.

He clicked it once more. Tae-hoon flinched.

You feed the dog.

Si-eun remembered. They remembered too.

The dog salivates.

They all stopped once Si-eun’s steps came to a halt, along with the rhythmic (and terrifying) clicking of his pen. Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon’s scents were suffocating and horrified, drowned in fear. Si-eun suppressed a satisfied smirk, realizing his plan had worked perfectly. 

Then you only ring the bell. He had them in the palm of his hands.

“Let’s stop this, okay?” His voice was low and quiet, but it carried the firmness of authority, a forcefulness an omega shouldn’t have; but then again, nothing about him being an omega was ever normal, and those guys in front of him were to blame. “I’m asking you nicely.” He looked at Tae-hoon, then at Jeong-chan. His eyes widened like a haunting. “Got it?” 

They didn’t say anything, their tongues paralyzed and their stares glued down to the pen on his right hand. That experiment served them right, like the dirty, stray dogs they were.

Satisfied, Si-eun tucked his pen in the front pocket of his uniform shirt and turned around, ready to leave. He walked at his pace, undisturbed, thinking it was all over. Until his hand unlocked the door and touched the handle.

“You don’t even wanna know what happened to him?’

His fingers trembled against the metal. His blood went cold and his members went rigid. Jeong-chan’s voice was icy, like a gunshot to the empty hole his heart used to be. 

“Seems like that alpha ain’t that important to you.” He went on, acid dripping on his tone. Si-eun didn’t have to turn around to know that he had a wicked smile on his face, and Tae-hoon followed behind. “You’re the same poker faced bitch whether he’s next to you or not. What? Were you guys just a fling?”

Si-eun gripped the door handle tight, but didn’t open it. He knew the other boys were still there by the way they whispered nervously to each other, attentive to every small sign of life on the other side of the door. Si-eun became very still, and as he turned his head around, he felt like he was a demon waiting to be exorcized. His hand came to rest on the pocket of his shirt, eager to catch its favorite weapon. The red in his eyes was no longer of sleepiness, but rather a crescent hunger for blood.

“They were fucking just for fun!” Tae-hoon laughed and slapped Jeong-chan on the shoulder, as if his relationship with Soo-ho was the funniest joke of all time. “Young-bin was right, you’re just a little whore.”

Si-eun clicked his pen, his eyes squinted with rage. Jeong-chan had a malicious smile on his face, and Si-eun wondered if they were just bluffing. But then, he said something that changed the velocity of his heartbeats and the way his brain filtered his body movements:

“I guess that motherfucker Ahn Soo-ho can’t fist fight himself out of an accident.”

Si-eun’s eyes went wide. His breathing came to a brutal halt and he felt the sweat on his hands run cold. He felt like he was going into cardiac arrest.

“What the fuck did you say?” The words came out like a dying whisper, an incredulous exclamation, some disbelieving wrath. Si-eun watched carefully as Jeong-chan opened his mouth to answer with another sarcastic comment, but his lips suddenly shut down and his expressions crumpled into a terrified guise. 

Next thing he knew, his fist was colliding to the beta’s cheek, sending him flying to his right. Jeong-chan’s body hit a bathroom stall door so abruptly that the noise sent the boys outside the room screaming in surprise. 

“This insane idiot…” Tae-hoon muttered, his eyes wide and his fists ready to retaliate. 

Si-eun didn’t think. For one of the first times in his life, he didn’t think anything through; he just acted like the wolf in his blood flow told him to. The ancestors that built his DNA and birthed him as an omega manifested themselves through instincts, such as those who made him dodge Tae-hoon’s punch and stick his pen right into his closed fist. 

The sharp tool burst through his skin, making him scream like his soul was escaping his body. He held his scarred flesh in despair and incredulity; it was like watching those medieval men on games and tv shows having one of their body members severed. Their wails were pretty much the same. 

As for Jeong-chan, he recovered quickly, but his balance was severely altered. He wasn’t even properly up on his two feet when Si-eun jumped on him, hitting him with the corner of his cellphone, which, until then, was hidden in his pants pockets. The impact resulted in another scream; this time Jeong-chan was covering his right eye, which would certainly turn black soon. He had never seen someone hit another person with a phone before, but they sure were heavy.

“Where is Soo-ho?” Si-eun asked, his voice barely a grunt. The two were still crying and holding their wounds like that would magically heal them. Si-eun couldn’t hear anything other than the heartbeat on his ear. He was fucking livid . “What did you do to him?”

“I don’t know!” Jeong-chan yelled, agonized. He took his hand out of his eye for a second, and Si-eun could see that it was already red and starting to swell. “I don’t know where he is! I swear!”

“Then what did you do to him?” Si-eun grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, the beta wrinkling his entire face with the bitter caffeine that his discontent exhaled. “What do you mean by accident? What did you do to my alpha?”

He didn’t realize he was yelling; didn’t realize there were desperate tears in his eyes as he shook Jeong-chan by the neck. He didn’t realize, too, when Tae-hoon grunted in pain, his bloody pen falling to the ground with a clatter. The taller boy pulled him back, making his grip on Jeong-chan falter. He was thrown to the ground, his back hitting the porcelain floor with a thud. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” The alpha grunted. Si-eun got up quickly, but not quickly enough to dodge Tae-hoon this time. He wrapped his arms around his middle and hit his head on his stomach with impulse. If Si-eun had eaten anything, he’d have thrown up all over Tae-hoon’s back, but he doubted the boy cared enough about coming out tidy and unscathed; he had that same hunger for blood in his eyes, the same blood that was flowing through his palm. 

When Tae-hoon lifted him to throw him down, Si-eun shoved his feet in a strong, singular kick that went right to his knot. The alpha groaned, and his arms failed to hold Si-eun any longer. He fell down to the ground, agonizing, his bloody hand covering his crotch. His face was so scrunched that Si-eun could barely see his eyes, and his tears were flowing like rivers. 

All that violence, all those suffocating smells, yet Si-eun didn’t care. He only cared about one thing. 

“What did you do to my alpha?!” He screamed, feeling his face swollen and red with so much fury. So much that he thought he would die. So much that he thought he would kill them.

He stepped further; it was enough for Jeong-chan to lift his hands in an act of withdrawal, begging for him to listen. Si-eun stopped, but his fangs were itching to bite and his nails were ready to scratch until it found blood.

“We just messed with his bike, dude.” Jeong-chan admitted, his breath failing him as he spoke. “I’m sure he’s fine!”

Si-eun frowned, horrified. His head was hurting. There were some puzzle pieces coming together in his brain, but everything was still so foggy.

“You… You messed with his bike?” He screeched, feeling so close to insanity. How did they know Soo-ho had a bike? It’s not like he drove it around showing it. Who had told them?

But most importantly, if they messed with Soo-ho’s motorbike and Soo-ho hadn’t called him… Then that couldn’t mean good news. They had really sent Soo-ho into an accident.

Si-eun crumpled his hands into fists. The urge to beat them to death was stronger than anything he had ever felt before, but he refrained for the sake of his future, and for the hope that he’d get to see Soo-ho with no bruises to worry him.

Tae-hoon was still agonizing on the ground, contorting like a worm. Jeong-chan was crouched, teary-eyed like a scared child. Si-eun’s voice echoed with more authority than any alpha could muster, and the fear he implanted on them was enough proof of his strength.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, or I’ll make your lives hell.” 

Jeong-chan nodded weakly. Tae-hoon was crying and wailing. His job was done. 

When he opened the door, there was no one there. His eyebrows twitched a little in surprise, but he paid it no mind. As he walked through the corridor, the boys whimpered and shrunk themselves smaller, cowering with his presence. When he opened the classroom door, many of them flinched, shaking in their seats and averting their eyes as if Si-eun had the plague, or as if he was the most hideous sinner. 

Beom-seok trembled in his seat when he passed in front of him. He didn’t say anything, nor did he offer any help with his scattered study materials, the ones Soo-ho had bought with his hard earned money. He didn’t acknowledge him when he put everything in his backpack and zipped it shut, putting it on his back, ready to leave. But when he walked away, he could feel his eyes on him; and he could feel it, like the wolf that howled for his other half, that Beom-seok was a guilty man. 

He had a lot to say, but he couldn’t do it. So he just walked, and walked, until he left. He’d only come back with Soo-ho by his side. 

Si-eun knew exactly where he was and what he was doing when Soo-ho finally — finally — called him. 

He was at the sink, trying to scrub away a smudge from a pan after a disastrous attempt at cooking. Since he had gone home earlier, it meant that he’d have to make his lunch himself, but he had run out of noodles and all he had was some spare chicken in the fridge. The results weren’t pretty, — he had snoozed in front of the oven, for Christ’s sake — and he was, overall, incredibly pissed off. 

He had no idea where his alpha was, he had no way to contact him other than calling, he wasn’t answering his calls and he was 99% that he was badly hurt, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was frustrating, and it made him feel so incredibly guilty.

When his phone rang, he thought it was his father, or maybe Beom-seok, or some random telemarketing operator. He was ready to answer the call with a powerful yell, the loudest one he could muster, so the person on the other line would feel his wrath and hang up on reflex. 

But how could he? His name was on the screen, staring back at him. Soo-ho, his alpha. With a heart.

“Soo-ho?!” He grabbed his phone with desperation, the soap in his hands almost making it slip out of his grip. He heard a small chuckle, one that he knew by heart, and he felt his eyes begin to moisture. Soo-ho, it’s you.

“Hi, pup.” His voice came up so soft, so gentle, so deep and comforting that Si-eun could have screamed and cried out of joy. Instead, he let out a sigh of relief, the longest breath that had ever left his lungs. He’s fine, he’s okay. He’s talking to me. He’s okay.

“Soo-ho, where are you?” Si-eun didn’t waste time and went straight to the point. His voice was high and squeaky with anticipation. “I was so worried! You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for your call!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, pup. The last couple of days were a bit difficult for me.” Came his reply on the other line, and Si-eun catched a tired exhale. Soo-ho was worn out, he could tell just by the way he was talking slowly and how his voice seemed lower than usual. What had happened to him? What had happened to his loud and boisterous Soo-ho?

“Just tell me where you are, please. I’ll go and meet you right now.” Si-eun answered, a pleading look in his eyes that he was sure Soo-ho could see from miles and miles away. There was a whiny aspect to the tone of his voice, like he was about to cry. Who knows, maybe he was. Leave it to Soo-ho to make him so emotional.

“I’m in St. Joseph’s hospital, room 506. If you need any help, call nurse Min Se-jeong, she’s been taking care of me and she’s really nice.” 

Si-eun felt his lips tremble. So he really was in a hospital. These past two days, in which Si-eun has been agonizing over and over with unspeakable thoughts about his absence, he had been suffering in the flesh. He really wanted to cry.

“I-I’ll be there.” He stuttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. Keep your shit together, Yeon Si-eun. He sucked in a breath. “Stay there, alright? I won’t take long.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” 

Si-eun gripped his phone so hard he thought it would explode in his hands. To say bye and hang up was one of the most difficult things he had ever done, and his only consolation was the fact that he’d get to see Soo-ho again soon. He couldn’t bear to wait for a bus, so he took the nearest taxi and told the man to hit the brakes. While the streets ran past him in a flash, he daydreamed about the bear hug he’d give Soo-ho, daydreamed about his magnificent scent and how he’d wrap his arms around Soo-ho’s shoulders and tuck his head on his neck, inhaling pine trees and leather directly from his scent gland. They weren’t even in the same room yet, but he never wanted to leave him again. He wanted to live in a tiny house made of chocolate walls in Soo-ho’s ribs, right next to where his heart beat so warmly.

He arrived at St. Joseph’s hospital in record time, and he made sure to tip the taxi driver nicely before running to the reception. The lady behind the computer was a little hesitant in letting him in before the visitation hours began. Si-eun thought he would actually have to call nurse Min Se-jeong, but to his luck, the receptionist was kind enough to understand the desperate look in his eyes — the eyes of a mate yearning to see his other half. 

The Yeon Si-eun of a month ago would question her compliance with the hospital’s rules; perhaps he wouldn’t even accept the special treatment, determined on being so righteous all the time. But now; now none of that mattered. Si-eun had been birthed anew; there was a longing in his soul that called for Soo-ho’s soothing presence. Something that not only he could tell. 

“Maybe we were a married couple in our past lives”, he remembered him saying as if they were the only two people in the world that night, in the middle of the busy streets. Yes, Si-eun thought, smiling dumbly as he walked to his hospital room. Maybe we were.

He didn’t realize his feet were shaking until he opened the sliding door. Little by little, the bed showed up, along with the wide windows and white walls. With the sound of the vital support machines, he panicked for a moment, thinking that Soo-ho was in a much graver situation than he had predicted. But then, he saw him: a curved silhouette, sitting down on the bed, with his hospital pajamas and classic chestnut cut, looking nowhere in particular. He felt his legs turn to jelly at the sight of him, and when Soo-ho looked at him, he felt the tears gather in his eyes all over again in the rhythm of his smile.

“Pup!” The alpha beamed as if a sanctity had come to visit him. Si-eun used all his strength to run to his already wide open arms, and he didn’t even calculate his precision; he didn’t know how he ended jumping on the bed and wrapping Soo-ho in a tight embrace; he didn’t know when he had settled on his lap or when he had tucked his head in the curve of his neck. He just knew that he was finally — finally — on Soo-ho’s arms, and nothing, nothing else mattered. 

“Oh pup, your heart is beating so fast.” Soo-ho mumbled, his voice muffled from where he was nuzzling his neck. Si-eun didn’t even want to breathe, afraid to sniffle and make Soo-ho cut their hug shortly out of worry. But when he eventually ran out of air in his lungs, he inhaled greedily the comforting scent of pines. He felt like he was in a pine tree forest on a rainy day. He wished to stay there forever.

“Aigoo, don’t cry.” Soo-ho pulled him slowly out of his embrace, his hands quickly running through his messy hair and wiping his tear-stricken cheeks. Si-eun thought that Soo-ho had never looked so gentle than he did then, with his thumbs carefully touching his skin and his eyes watching over him so soothingly. Si-eun felt another wave of tears forming, but forced them down. Just as he did so, Soo-ho’s fingers stopped right under his bottom eyelids.

“You have bags under your eyes.” He pointed it out with worry in his voice. “You didn’t sleep well?”

Si-eun’s mouth was open a little — might have been for a while. He scoffed, the sound leaving in a disbelieved breath. 

“How can you be worried about me now?” He asked, feeling guilty all over again. “You’re the one in the hospital.”

Soo-ho mumbled an affirmative sound, and they stayed in silence for a solid minute, just staring at each other with worry, gentleness, love, and everything in between. Soo-ho’s hands kept touching him, softly wiping the remains of salty water until he was almost dry. The alpha traced patterns with his fingers, rubbed his squishy cheeks, ran his hands through his smooth hair, and spent what seemed like hours just feeling the omega’s soft skin, relishing in the nice feel of it under his calloused palms. 

After some time, Soo-ho asked:

“But did you…? Stay up all night?” 

There was concern in his voice still, but it also carried some sort of gleeful curiosity. Si-eun wondered if he’d be angry, wondered if he’d be flattered.

“Hm.” He nodded, thinking it would be no good to lie. He could never lie to Soo-ho. “Worried ‘bout you.”

His face somehow leaned further into Soo-ho’s touch. His gaze was so warm, he felt like he would melt with the heat of his hands and the mix of sentiments in his eyes. The alpha didn’t answer him, but his expression told him he understood, and he didn’t blame him. They were both worried about each other, so much so that the past few days were awful for both of them. Their wolves were in constant alert, and when Si-eun’s hands touched Soo-ho’s wrists, their mouths proclaimed the same regret:

“I’m sorry.” 

They stared at each other with wide eyes, surprised with the simultaneity. Soon enough, they were talking over one another frenetically. 

“What-”

“You first.”

“No, you go first.”

“I-”

“Well, it seems like you’re both sorry.”

The two boys looked at the source of the sound, startled by the interruption. Standing with magnanimous presence by the door, there was an elderly lady holding something in her hands and smiling with her eyes. Si-eun felt a rush of warmth run through him when he realized that her eyes held the same gentleness as the boy he loved so much. 

“Granny!” Soo-ho greeted her, excited like a little puppy. He was grinning, not the least bit ashamed to have Si-eun so close to him. The smaller boy was almost embarrassed, but remained still. 

“Hello, darling.” She smiled warmly at Soo-ho. She approached them slowly and gracefully, and Si-eun couldn’t help but bask in her floral scent. An omega just like him, with such a beautiful aura. “And you must be Si-eun.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him. Si-eun felt like a precious gemstone under her gaze. “My grandson told me a lot about you.”

Si-eun glanced at Soo-ho curiously. The alpha’s cheeks were quickly overtaken by a faint shade of red, and he cleared his throat while averting his eyes. Si-eun resisted the urge to smirk. 

“Is that so?” He asked. And then, noticing his informality, he bowed respectfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ma’am.”

“Aish! No need to be so formal, dear. Call me Halmeoni.” The old woman smiled, clearly pleased by the boy’s manners. “This is for you.” She handed him a small chocolate cake filled with sprinkles. Given that Si-eun had barely eaten anything that day, the treat looked otherworldly, almost shining with deliciousness. 

When he looked at her, confused by the present, grandma winked at him:

“Because Soo-ho told me you were sweet.”

Si-eun’s cheeks bloomed pink in response. 

“Hey! Why don’t I get a cake? I’m the one in the hospital.” Soo-ho huffed indignantly by his side. Si-eun rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his lips. His hands were tingling all over and he was feeling all sorts of weird. Granny exhaled such goodness and warmth. Like Soo-ho. Just like Soo-ho. 

“I’m sure you two can share.” Grandma squinted her eyes at Soo-ho. “Well, I knew you’d be here since Soo-ho told me he warned you about what happened. I’m gonna let you two talk. It’s so nice to finally meet you, sweetie.” She pinched Si-eun’s left cheek and left. Si-eun was so dumbfounded that by the time he remembered to bow, granny was already gone. 

He turned back to Soo-ho, feeling unsure what to say after that quick, but very meaningful encounter. All the words he was planning to say vanished from his mind as soon as he felt that familiar feeling — the feeling of being loved — that Soo-ho’s eyes, hands, and even his grandmother brought him with so much ease. It was horrible to go back to that guilty space, but he had to get everything he felt out of his chest. A relationship was based on honesty and trust, and even if they hadn’t given it a name yet, it was impossible to deny that they were indeed in a relationship.

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole before.” He started, grabbing the little cake packaging tighter, as if he could hide behind it. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you want to court me or not, I just want you by my side.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. Soo-ho was looking at him like he was anticipating a storm. “I was feeling insecure and I lashed out on you, I had no right to do that.”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay.” Soo-ho’s hands found their way to his face again, and Si-eun could have purred in relief. He was shushing him with his calming pheromones and his soothing touch. Si-eun closed his eyes and relished on that feeling. “I owe you an apology too.”

That was enough to make him open his eyes, if only just a little, and frown.

“What? No, you-”

“I do.” Soo-ho’s hands dropped from his face to hold his hands, untangling them from the tight grip of the plastic package. He was looking at him seriously, but he wasn’t mournful or distressed. Rather, he looked full of tranquility and maturity. “I should have known what I was doing, and I should have known it was a big deal. I never wanted you to feel like I wasn’t taking our relationship seriously. There’s nothing in my life right now that is more important than you.” 

Those words made Si-eun’s heart skip a beat. Soo-ho brought Si-eun’s smaller hands to his lips, kissing them so, so tenderly, and Si-eun wanted to cry once more. When Soo-ho locked eyes with him again, they were blooming with hope.

“So, what do you say… Yeon Si-eun, can I court you? Properly, this time?”

Si-eun’s breath hitched; his heart was beating so fast he felt like he was about to faint. He was warmer than ever, and his hands were trembling, but still he managed to smile — the brightest smile that had ever crossed his expression, the smile that only Soo-ho could see, that only Soo-ho could bring. 

“Yes.” There was really no other answer. Si-eun’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “Yes, you can court me.”

Soo-ho cheered, his scream louder than a hospital would allow, but even worried out of his mind for his casted leg, Si-eun didn’t mind. He just laughed — that beautiful laugh that only his alpha could be the reason behind —, and accepted Soo-ho’s bone crunching hug. The tears he wanted to spill were no longer out of dread, but out of joy, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He was being courted; he was in a happy relationship with a wonderful alpha. He, Yeon Si-eun, who lived to study and had no friends. Who would believe it? 

They still had a few hours until visitation hours were over. Si-eun insisted on feeding Soo-ho this time, for once. The taller boy complained, saying it was an alpha’s job to feed the omega — which earned him a very pointed glare. At the end of the day, Soo-ho gladly accepted the spoons of chocolate cake, not missing an opportunity to say that Si-eun surely tasted better. Si-eun had never been so red faced while eating something sweet before. 

The hours went by, and so did their lovely time together. They exchanged a few kisses here and there, but kept it more chaste than they would prefer due to the constant interruption of the nurses. Si-eun was quick to ask for Soo-ho’s address, which was given to him without resistance. Grandma eventually joined them, and made sure to ask Si-eun a lot of questions, trying to get to know him better — although grandma would mostly dote on Si-eun, who always got embarrassed by her fussing. Soo-ho laughed at his mortified expression, but Si-eun couldn’t be mad. Not when he was being shown so much love for the first time in his life. 

Si-eun wanted to stay until Soo-ho was released, but he wasn’t a part of his immediate family, nor was he his mate (officially), so he had to obey the visitation hours. The doctors still wanted to run a few other exams and Soo-ho would only be able to go home in the next day’s afternoon. Soo-ho told him he should get his sleep hours back and, after much insistence and many, many (many) goodbye kisses, Si-eun finally left at eight pm. Grandma also insisted for him to take a cab, even if Si-eun was used to catching the bus late at night. Feeling intoxicated by all that care, Si-eun went home feeling warm, and with the sweet taste of chocolate on his tongue that just happened to match his scent.

As for Soo-ho, he tried to convince grandma to go home too, which didn’t work. Instead, he got a light punch on his shoulder.

“Granny! What was that for?” He pouted and rubbed the spot, even if grandma’s punch was lighter than any punch he had ever received in his MMA training days (and recent days too). His grandma just scoffed.

“You’re courting that boy aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for her grandson to try to dismiss her observation skills. However, to her surprise, the usually cheeky boy got bright red, caught in the act, and rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

“Yeah…” He mumbled. And then he turned to look at her with squinted eyes. “Were you spying on us? Hm? That’s nasty!”

“As if anyone would have to spy on you. You two are as obvious as the brightness of the sun.” Granny answered, suppressing a laugh. Her grandson was extravagant in love, much like his father and his grandfather before him. “What I mean to say is that you can’t just court that boy out of nowhere. You have to ask for his parent’s blessing!”

What followed was a long second of silence, in which that information sank in on Soo-ho’s head.

“Really, granny?” Soo-ho grimaced. He hadn’t liked what he had heard about Si-eun’s parents; the little information Si-eun gave him and his entire lifestyle confirmed to him that those two neglected their child. That just didn’t sit right with him, no matter how nice Si-eun’s father had been to him. 

“Really. It would be unwise and impolite not to do so. Courting is very serious! It means you want to spend the rest of your life with Si-eun!” Granny’s eyes were wide as saucers and she sounded exasperated. “You’ll want to show respect to his parents!”

“I know, I know.” Soo-ho sighed. He didn’t miss the chance to mutter, angrily: this isn’t the 1920s though. 

Unfortunately, his grandma had listened.

“As if I would know what the 1920s were like!” She punched his shoulder yet again, a little harder this time. “I’m a proud 1950 woman!” She grumbled, hissing at him. Soo-ho snorted, shaking his head amusedly. “Honestly, just do as I say. One dinner shall be enough.”

Another round of silence. Grandma could see the gears turning in her grandson’s head. And then, he spoke:

“What if they’re against it?” There was an ugly frown in his head. The thought terrified him. He didn’t think he could be with anyone else other than Si-eun; he couldn’t move on from him even if he tried.

His grandma, as if aware of his every sentiment, smiled tenderly at him. The sight soothed him instantaneously. 

“They won’t.” She rubbed her hand over his smooth straight hair, messing tenderly with his fringe. “When they see how amazing of an alpha you are, they won’t be against it, puppy.”

Soo-ho smiled, feeling confident that his love for Si-eun would be enough. 

“Thank you, granny.”

Soo-ho went back to school on Wednesday of that same week. Si-eun was the first to find him in class that morning, and was so overrun by emotion that he ran straight to him and hugged him close. To say that he reeked of him when they moved apart was an understatement; Si-eun could see some students covering their noses when he returned to his seat, and he didn’t fight to cover his smirk, nor did he feel embarrassed; everyone knew Soo-ho was courting him anyway, best to make that very clear. 

Beom-seok greeted Soo-ho with a smile on his face, but his hand was sweaty and the happiness didn’t quite reach his eyes. Soo-ho brushed those feelings off, but when he looked at Si-eun, he knew he thought the same. They were both suspicious, especially because Beom-seok had been all friendly with Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon just a few days earlier. 

Speaking of which, the two bullies didn’t show any particular reaction to Soo-ho’s return, although Si-eun was sure that they got to class later than usual for a reason. They entered the room through the back sliding door and passed through Soo-ho’s sleeping form in quick steps, arriving at their seats before the teacher could even scold them. But Si-eun’s attention remained on them, and when break time started, he was fast to join his alpha. 

Not for the first time, Si-eun noticed that he and Soo-ho thought too much alike. Would that improve even further when they mated? 

He shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. He signaled to the other side of the class with his head, and Soo-ho understood him. He helped him get to his feet. 

Jeong-chan, unaware of what was waiting for him and his friend, came close to Tae-hoon’s sleeping form and yelled in his ear. After the alpha whined and stretched out the sleep from his body, he smiled and tapped him on the side.

“Let’s go smoke.” He told him, tickling him until he got up from his chair. 

But they didn’t get to go that far. Jeong-chan merely took two steps until he was face to face with the one he dreaded the most. The most annoying of it all was that, attached to his left arm, was Si-eun, the omega that started all of that — the omega that caught Young-bin’s hateful attention and started a chain of events, mostly unfortunate; although the cozyness that those two displayed was far from uncomfortable, that much was true. 

“You have a lot of nerve showing up to school.” Soo-ho began, after taking a vexed look at both of them, his tongue slackening his jaw. He noticed that Jeong-chan had a black eye and Tae-hoon’s hand was covered in gauze. Soo-ho arched his eyebrow, and shared a look with Si-eun. When the omega averted his gaze, he figured he must have had something to do with it. Soo-ho avoided a smirk just to keep appearances. 

“I beg your pardon?” Jeong-chan had the nerve to ask, a dumbfounded look on his face. He was awful at pretending to be innocent, and the fact that Tae-hoon was barely awake was starting to irritate Soo-ho even more. 

“I want you to pay for the damages by the end of this week.” Soo-ho ordered them, his stance leaving no opportunity for second guessings. Si-eun was like a quiet cat wrapped around his arm, carefully studying the scene that unfolded in front of him. He liked to think that he was pacifying his alpha and avoiding another tragedy. 

“Okay, I will…” Jeong-chan stopped mid-sentence, his eyes staring at an empty space in the room as he realized what Soo-ho had just said. There was a stupid question on his swollen lips and Soo-ho wanted to punch him. “What? What damages?”

Soo-ho had had enough. Si-eun’s touch wouldn’t soothe him this time — he doubted that was even Si-eun’s intention, given that he was as angry as him.

He lifted his right arm and slapped Jeong-chan across the forehead, keeping his strength at a minimum to avoid any more mess. Si-eun’s arms tightened around him, but he didn’t say or do anything. He just watched.

Even with his controlled slap, Jeong-chan bit his bottom lip in pain, retreating like a scared wolf, averting his gaze like he was about to cry.

“It’s 800,000 won.” Soo-ho told them, his voice carefully calculated. He felt like he was dripping venom. They were looking anywhere but at him, their eyes flipping from left to right. “If you don’t pay me back, you’re all dead.” 

He stared at Tae-hoon, watching as he swallowed in fear. Then he stared at Jeong-chan, who cowered under his gaze like he wasn’t the most vicious beta in that entire school.

“Answer me.” Soo-ho ordered them. By the tone of his voice and the way he stood over those bullies, Si-eun couldn’t help but feel the difference in character and behavior. It was like he became a completely different person than the one who cooed at him, and hugged him tight, and pouted like a whiny puppy just to ask for kisses. It made him warm inside to know that his alpha could lick softly and bite just as violently. 

“Okay.” Jeong-chan answered, trembling slightly. A shadow moved behind Soo-ho, his tense posture faltering over the sound of a familiar stutter and the scent of bitter oranges.

“W-What’s going on?” Beom-seok asked them, making Soo-ho and Si-eun turn around to face him. When the alpha’s gaze was no longer on him, Jeong-chan frowned, his fangs showing up with angry hisses.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Soo-ho tapped him on the shoulder, showing him a small smile. “I’m done with them. Let’s go grab some lunch.” He wrapped his arms around Si-eun’s shoulders, giving him a smooch on his cheek. He looked at Beom-seok expectantly, but his feet were already guiding him to the door.

“I-I’ll catch up with you later.” Beom-seok told him. The way he kept rubbing his hands and blinking fast didn’t escape Soo-ho’s notice, which made a little crease form between his eyebrows. But he only shrugged, thinking that could only mean he’d have more time with his omega. They left the classroom still very much embraced, to Beom-seok’s flustered discontent. 

Jeong-chan punched him in the shoulder on the first opportunity he got. He was a bunch of burning charcoal and stale tea. Tae-hoon wasn’t far behind, and Beom-seok could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising to the sound of their fangs.

“Ya, Oh Beom-seok…” Jeong-chan didn’t wait for him to turn around. He and Tae-hoon enclosed him, leaving him with no way to run. Beom-seok was cold and sweating at this point, but he hoped he would get out of there unscathed, no matter how much they tried to ambush him. “You’ll have to pay for the damages, did you hear him? This was your idea, so you have to give your money too.”

“Yeah, don’t try to act all high and mighty in front of him.” Tae-hoon told him, his smelly breath making Beom-seok close his eyes and scrunch his nose. “This little game you’re playing won’t take you too far.”

It was true; Beom-seok knew that he wouldn’t be able to stand in between those two vastly different groups like it was no big deal. He wished he could be friends with anyone and everyone, but that was wishful thinking in a school such as Byeoksan. 

He had to make a decision. He had to choose.

“I agree.” He told them, nodding like he had been punished by a teacher. Jeong-chan arched his eyebrow at him while Tae-hoon looked confused. “I’ll pay for the damages on the bike. But that’s it.”

Jeong-chan’s eyes widened, his jaw clenched. Tae-hoon’s hands turned into fists.

“What was that?” Jeong-chan asked, his voice higher as if he was questioning his sanity. “You’re backing off?” His eyes widened even more, and when he finally snapped, he grabbed Beom-seok by the collar of his shirt. There was a choir of startled students in the room, and Beom-seok prayed that nothing more violent would occur.

“How many times do I have to say that this was your idea?” Jeong-chan shook him. Beom-seok’s neck was like a puppet string, making his head go up and down in a painful movement. “You can’t just back off and abandon us as you wish!”

Beom-seok, weirdly enough, felt more amused than scared. To think that those guys, who once acted like kings, were now dethroned and leaderless, barely existing if not for the sole reason to disturb a couple, going as far as to threaten the one closest to them. 

It was pathetic. 

And now that Beom-seok had found someone more pathetic than him, he had to take advantage of it.

“Take your hands off me!” He yelled, pushing Jeong-chan’s hands out of his collar, his grip on the other beta’s wrists as strong as any other bullying tactic. Jeong-chan watched him in disbelief, and before Tae-hoon could intervene, Beom-seok raised his arms. “I’m still friends with Ahn Soo-ho, or did you forget?”

They froze in place, cowered by the mention of the alpha’s name. Beom-seok wanted to smirk, but something inside him stopped him from doing so. Perhaps it was the guilt eating at him again, or the notion that he was pathetic, too. 

“He won’t be happy to know that you two hurt one of his friends. He always fights back, and with double strength.” He told them, watching as they dropped their fighting stances. “If you hurt me in any way, I’ll tell him, and it’ll be over for you. Leave me alone.”

That was enough to give him a free pass. He walked by them faster than lightning, and only managed to exhale when he was far away in the corridor. When he finally arrived at the cafeteria, his steps tired and faltering, he stood still for a moment, looking for Soo-ho and Si-eun through the crowd.

When he found them, sitting in the middle of the cafeteria, he smiled. But soon enough, it vanished, becoming just a puzzled pair of lips in a slackened mouth. He wanted to think it was just an effect of surprise, but to be truthful, he wasn’t surprised at all. Rather, that ugly feeling, which almost felt wistful, surfaced again — from the depths of his heart, where it had sprouted and bloomed like a horrible flower.

Si-eun was in Soo-ho’s arms this time. They were both sitting side by side, but Si-eun might’ve as well been on Soo-ho’s lap from how close they were. They were alone in their own little world, like they had just shipped off to a honeymoon on a private island. 

From where Beom-seok was standing, he could see how Si-eun was looking at him — like Soo-ho was the most amazing and exquisite thing in the world. There was so much adoration in them, something so sickeningly sweet that it dropped from his pearl boba eyes and fell through his entire body, making him lean onto the alpha like a lifeline, his arms around his waist, his fingers swiping through his hair and face.

Beom-seok couldn’t see Soo-ho’s face, but he could see he was laughing, and saying something to Si-eun, who merely nodded — hypnotized and enchanted — every now and then. Soo-ho was a dominant presence, looking taller and bigger than his omega partner, and keeping his attention entirely to himself. His hands were occupied with the long spoons of rice and meat that went directly to Si-eun’s willing mouth. Beom-seok couldn’t believe his eyes; Soo-ho was feeding his omega in the middle of the cafeteria for everyone to see. 

When he squinted his eyes, he noticed that Si-eun was wearing something over his uniform shirt. It was a blue windbreaker that was way too big for him. Beom-seok widened his eyes; that was Soo-ho’s windbreaker, the one he was wearing on that fateful day in which Young-bin had tried to harm Si-eun. 

He had… Given it to him? Just like that?

Beom-seok could feel that ugly jealousy coming over, washing over him like unholy water. There was a bitter taste on his tongue as he watched Soo-ho spoon feed Si-eun, his hands careful and steady. His eyes burned and watered when Soo-ho went down to kiss Si-eun on the lips, then on the cheeks and the forehead. He had to swallow a lump on his throat when Si-eun embraced him, looking so comfortable and cozy and small under the alpha’s bear hug. They shared so many more kisses, unaware and clearly unbothered by the stares and the attention. 

They wanted to be seen. They wanted the world to know. Ahn Soo-ho was courting Yeon Si-eun. He was his alpha, he was his omega, and there was nothing to it. 

There was no way Beom-seok could get between them. There was no way he could ever come close to what they had. He was the odd one out, the third wheel, the random intruder. They were doing fine without him before, weren’t they? They never even asked to be friends with him, they never showed any interest. Would they forgive him if they told him everything he had done? Everything he had thought and everything he wished to say? Everything he wished he could do?

Beom-seok breathed in deeply and exhaled all his acid complaints. He turned his back to them and to the whole cafeteria. The only way out was through, and the truth would cost him much. 

If that was the price he had to pay, then so he would. He had a lot of money anyway.

“Soo-ho-ya, you’re smelling different today.”

Si-eun’s voice came muffled, since his face was tucked on his neck, breathing in from his scent gland. Soo-ho chuckled, relishing in the softness of his head. He had never looked and sounded as cute as he did at that exact moment, wearing his windbreaker and eating from his hands. Soo-ho felt so possessive that if anyone were to touch Si-eun or even breathe in his direction he would cut their arm off with his teeth. That omega was his to admire and cherish and love, thank you very much.

“Do you think so?” He questioned. They had ran out of food rather quickly, but neither were willing to get out of their seats to ask for more. Si-eun nodded, his face rubbing into Soo-ho’s neck, and they were both sure that their scents would be all mingled by the time this was all over; not that it was a problem. “How different? Tell me.”

Si-eun hummed in his arms, the vibration feeling pleasant against his skin. He knew it wasn’t likely, but he could feel Si-eun’s cheeks getting warmer. He wanted to hug him until he exploded, that adorable thing.

“I don’t know, it smells… Stronger. More masculine. Like fresh wood.” The omega answered, looking up at him and straightening up his posture, his arms still fixed on Soo-ho’s side. He had a contemplative expression on his face that made him look smart and poised, which wasn’t far from the truth. “It’s like the pine trees are being born from the Earth, fertilized, like when nature announces that it’s about to rain. Does that make sense?”

He looked at him in search of approval. There was a glint of insecurity in his eyes, maybe of worry; what was that mysterious scent? Why was his alpha smelling different? Was there something wrong with him? The omega inside him was a little distressed.

Soo-ho could only smile and soothe the crease in between his eyebrows with a kiss.

“Only you could make a poem out of this.” He chuckled, and the scent of coffee sweetened along with Si-eun’s silence. “I think I’m going into a rut.”

The omega tensed in his arms, going rigid as a rock. He untangled himself from his embrace, staring at him with wide eyes and open mouth. Quickly as the rain falls, his face turned a pretty shade of pink. Soo-ho had surprised such an impassive individual, and he wondered if he should be proud of himself.

“O-Oh.” Si-eun stuttered. Soo-ho only stared at him amusedly. It was rare to have him so flustered; only Soo-ho could hold such power in his hands. “Really?”

He looked a mix of scared and curious, anxious and yearning. His eyes were little black pieces of the universe, precious stones that shone brightly amongst salty water. Soo-ho could see his reflection on them, and he was smiling gently.

“Yes, really.” He laughed. He hugged Si-eun close again, feeling him relax a little, but still quite tense. He was looking at him with a million questions in mind, and since Soo-ho would have to deal with his genius brain for now on, he’d better answer them. “I’m very sensitive to smells lately. I’ve also been clingier than usual, although I’m not sure if you realized.” 

He poked one of Si-eun’s squishy cheeks, which were beautifully warm and pink. He still looked a bit confused, though.

“I thought that was because you’re courting me now.”

Soo-ho chuckled, although he felt a little embarrassed himself.

“Yeah, that too.” He scratched his forehead, later leaning on the smaller boy. They stood in silence for some time, enjoying their time together before break time ended. That was, until Si-eun looked up at him again; there was a wistful — longing — feeling in his eyes that made Soo-ho’s heart skip a beat.

“Can I…” He swallowed, his gaze dropping to Soo-ho’s lips for a second. “Can I… Spend your rut… With you?”

Soo-ho’s heart was definitely running on overdrive. He felt suddenly hot, desperate for some air, and he couldn’t look into Si-eun's eyes without feeling like he would explode.

“I don’t…” He scratched his neck, turned his head around the cafeteria. “I don’t think that would be very… wise.”

Si-eun frowned, feeling irritated. He was quickly reminded of a quote from Synovian Carlyle’s courting book — “It’s unusual and, therefore, frowned upon when the contrary occurs and an omega offers to spend a rut with the alpha of their choice.”

That made him frown even more, distasteful. Screw that! 

“Why not?” He asked it like he was advocating on a trial. He had several reasons up his sleeve, after all. “Having an omega by your side should make it easier, no? I can take care of you just fine!”

Soo-ho sighed, massaging his temples. Stubborn little thing. Si-eun could be difficult sometimes.

“If not for mating, then having an omega during rut makes everything worse.” Soo-ho grumbled, looking at him with a thin line on his lips which made his cheeks look like round breads. “Besides, I have my grandmother to take care of me. You don’t have to worry.”

Si-eun let out a disgruntled breath, feeling defeated. Soo-ho sighed and promptly kissed his pout away.

“Aish, don’t be mad at me!” He curled his lips playfully, making Si-eun swallow a giggle. “I just don’t want to do something I’ll regret later, okay?”

Si-eun accepted his fingers through his hair without saying anything. He remembered the way Soo-ho was so careful to avoid regrets while he was in heat, how he refused to kiss him or indulge in anything sexual due to him being unable to consent. To do the same with Soo-ho and risk a situation that both of them wouldn’t be proud of would be foolish and stupid, no matter how badly Si-eun wanted to be next to him in such a delicate moment. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were officially in a courting process  — officially dating, to put it simply —, but he felt like being apart from him was harder than ever. 

When Si-eun nodded to him, showing he understood, he tried to ignore his own selfishness. When Soo-ho kissed him, he couldn’t help but feel like that was all too unfair. Why couldn’t they be together when it happened? What could be so wrong if they were already in a relationship? Did they have to be so careful all the time?

The bell rang, announcing that break time was over. Si-eun tried to brush those thoughts aside, but he couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. There was only the fresh and pungent scent of pine wood every time he breathed in. 

Si-eun and Soo-ho were talking regularly through the phone, like the enamored couple they were. Whenever they were apart, they exchanged messages in each and every opportunity they had; in between classes, in between shifts and deliveries. Soo-ho always took him home from cram school with his motorbike, and they got to exchange much more than conversations before Si-eun closed his apartment door. Soo-ho had gotten several complaints about late deliveries, and Si-eun feared that Miss Choi would eventually put two and two together and blame him for Soo-ho’s significant drop in work quality. 

Regardless of any inconveniences, they had a routine. It was still weird for Si-eun to believe that he was in a stable relationship with a loving alpha, and his heart beat wildly everytime he thought about it, everytime Soo-ho kissed him, or touched him, or merely looked at him. He wondered if it would always be like this; once again, he wished it would. 

Because they were so joined by the hip, the minute Soo-ho stopped responding to his texts, Si-eun noticed it. And with each call that went to voicemail, he started to feel dread deep in his bones, that awful fear settling in quickly like a defense mechanism.

The worst scenarios began to form in his mind, which was usual for an overthinker that had gone through so much trauma. But then, as if a lamp had been turned on over his head, he remembered.

Soo-ho’s rut. It had started.

A rush of heat swiped over him from head to toe. He felt the tips of his fingers tingling as he searched for Soo-ho’s address on his phone. Thank heavens that he had remembered to ask him amidst all that chaos in the hospital and with his emotions through the roof. He didn’t know if he’d be able to stand not knowing how he was doing. 

Soo-ho told him not to get involved, but he was involved with him all the same, whether he went there or not. He knew he was trying to avoid any conflict, but whatever happened, Si-eun wouldn’t blame Soo-ho for anything. He loved him too much to let something like a mere rut get in between what they had, so he hopped on a taxi and told him his destination. 

In 30 minutes, he was standing in front of the address he had been given. He checked the number a thousand times before knocking on the front door. It was made from nicely carved wood, and surrounding it was a beige wall with little orange tiles above it, which also went over the large wooden door. The entrance was decorated with bindweeds, which just slightly covered the sayings on a plaque — 환영 (welcome).

He had to knock three times until he finally heard Grandma’s voice. She seemed out of breath and with a lot of things on her plate. Si-eun felt bad for interrupting her, but his will to see Soo-ho was stronger than any discomfort. It didn’t take long for her to open the door, with irritated grumbles accompanying her.

“Wang, I told you a million times that- Oh! Si-eun-ssi!” Her eyes widened in surprise. She smiled almost immediately, and Si-eun felt a little less nervous. “What are you doing here, sweetie? And on a Saturday!”

“Hi Grandma.” He bowed. “Is Soo-ho home?”

Granny’s smile faltered and she frowned uncomfortably. She looked back over her shoulder as if Soo-ho himself was mouthing the answers to her. When she turned to look at Si-eun again, she looked a little saddened.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, dear.” By the tone of her voice, he figured she didn’t want to deny him a visit. Si-eun was expecting a reaction like this, so he just smiled gently, an understanding look in his eyes.

“He’s in a rut, isn’t he?” 

Grandma arched her eyebrows. “Well, yes. How did you know?”

I just happen to be unhealthily obsessed with your grandson. 

“Intuition.” He cleaned his throat. Soo-ho had told him very willingly, but she didn’t need to know that.

Grandma, for her part, showed him a knowing smirk. Her hands went to her hips as she accessed the situation. Would seeing his courted omega make her grandson feel better? Or would it make it harder for him? Would it be dangerous?

Before she could say anything, Si-eun went ahead and explained himself:

“I just want to help him and be by his side.” And I know it’s a little selfish, he wanted to say, but I can’t just ignore it. I need to be next to him. “If I notice something wrong, or if it becomes too difficult for him, I’ll leave. I swear.” Please.

Perhaps it was the pleading look in his eyes or the begging crease in his eyebrows, but Grandma nodded, sighing in tiredness. Her arms fell from her hips like she was letting her guard down, and she motioned for him to enter her house (before some gossiping ahjumma caught sight of him, but he didn’t need to know that).

“Make yourself at home!”

To Si-eun’s pleasant surprise, Soo-ho and Grandma’s house was not stylished like the modern Seoul residences, but was, instead, a beautiful traditional Korean home. It had a wide courtyard with a big wooden table and several pots of plants, filled with widely different flowers each. The table was set on a higher floor, which was made of intricate ceramic tiles that resembled rocks. Like the old Korean houses, their home was spacious, and there were sliding doors all around.

The living room was small, with an old TV sitting by the ground, along with a beautiful glass breakfast table. There were a few pillows on the ground, in which Si-eun supposed they sit for their meals. The kitchen was slightly bigger, with a huge counter and a table filled with baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables. There was a wide window just over the sink; the fridge was full of photos and styled magnets. Si-eun didn’t get to see it further, but he could see shades of green through the open backdoor, and he was sure Grandma had a little vegetable garden in the backyard. 

She guided him through the corridors, making a few comments here and there. She smelled of roses and cotton and whatever she was cooking before Si-eun interrupted her — something with chicken. He could see that she was getting more and more anxious as they approached Soo-ho’s room, and Si-eun himself could feel his heart leaping in his throat. But when they finally arrived, she stood still for a moment, and looked at him very seriously:

“Be careful, alright? He’s sleeping.”

She opened the door quietly, but didn’t step in. She gave him a thumbs up and a supportive smile that Si-eun retributed. Soon enough, he was left alone to invade the darkness of Soo-ho’s bedroom, his scent strong and so latent that Si-eun feared he would choke.

Like he used to do in the early days, when the classroom was blooming in sub-gender manifestations, he covered his nose with the collar of his shirt. He was wearing a blue jean jacket over his white tee; now that November had arrived, the winter was starting to show up, autumn’s chilly winds becoming colder and colder. 

However, Soo-ho’s room was extremely warm. And so was he.

Si-eun didn’t even have to touch him to know. He was sweating profusely, yet he was still wrapped around a blanket. He was sleeping with a prominent frown, and Si-eun felt a stab in his heart as he realized that, even unconscious, he was in pain. 

He kneeled to the ground, like quite the admirer. Soo-ho’s room was built like the traditional homes, so he didn’t have a bed — he slept on a mattress on the floor, his futon wide enough to accommodate two people easily. But even though alphas didn’t make nests, Si-eun still felt uncomfortable barging into his space without permission, especially because Soo-ho was so respectful to him in his heat. He couldn’t disappoint him.

Si-eun spent a minute in silence, just observing his alpha. He was sweaty and had a cranky expression, but otherwise seemed to be fine. He was also shirtless, most of his torso covered by a thick blanket that looked like another mattress altogether. 

Amidst that silence, Si-eun realized that he had come there completely out of impulse, and he had no idea what to do. 

None of those books that the nurse had given him said anything about taking care of alphas during rut — which, granted, wouldn’t make sense; those were books about omegas — and Si-eun had never had an alpha relative that might’ve provided him that experience. 

However, as he looked at Soo-ho, breathing deeply in dark tranquility, Si-eun thought that that was exactly why he had come there. To be with him, no matter how useless he might be. There was nowhere else he’d rather be than in that hot, stuffy room that smelled like umid pinewood and sweaty leather.

Now wasn’t that romantic?

Suddenly, Soo-ho’s body shifted on the mattress, and Si-eun could hear a moan of pain. His body moved automatically until he could reach Soo-ho’s head. His fingers moved through his thin black hair, and he couldn’t resist touching his forehead. 

“You’re burning up.” He mumbled, now much more worried than he was when he arrived. He remembered feeling feverish when he was in heat too, so he tried to convince himself that that was normal and Soo-ho wasn’t in any grave danger. That was until the alpha moaned again, and Si-eun just gave in to whatever omegan instinct that told him to take care of Soo-ho like a mother wolf would take care of her pups.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He whispered to the sleeping alpha, his hands brushing through his damp hair and caressing his sweaty forehead. He wanted to kiss the crease in between his eyebrows, but tried to get a hold of himself. “Shhh.”

The alpha wrinkled his nose, but Si-eun noticed that his frown had diminished. He felt a burst of pride fill him inside, and he continued to caress his entire face softly, admiring his handsome features.

“How did I get such a striking alpha like you, huh?” He chuckled, his fingers brushing the apples of his cheeks like he was a work of art (which he was, in Si-eun’s totally unbiased opinion). 

Soo-ho wrinkled his nose again, stronger this time. Si-eun was about to move away when he heard his voice, low and throaty and delirious:

“Si-eun-ah…” 

His voice was so thin and small that Si-eun thought he had misheard it. But his heart had jumped in his chest, and he knew that he had said it. 

His name.

“Si-eun-ah…” He repeated, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids. His mouth was open, his lips barely touching as he spoke. He seemed to be stuck on a dream, like a thirsty man in a desert searching for water. “Omega.”

Si-eun felt a bloom of warmth on his belly, and he had to swallow a noise in response to the alpha’s calling. Could he smell him? Well, logically, he could — but then why hadn’t he awakened? Was he really dreaming? And was… he… in the dream? 

“Omega, c’mere” Soo-ho mumbled, a little louder this time, and his arms spasmed as if he was indeed calling someone. Si-eun felt his toes tingle and his fingers itch to touch him more, but he feared he would get burned; not by the fever, but by the weird desire that kept growing between them.

He felt ashamed of himself — Soo-ho was unconscious, for Christ’s sake! —, but he couldn’t help it. It was biological, almost written in the stars. 

He and Soo-ho, they were written in the stars.

“Si-eun… Omega.” The alpha groaned, the sound looking downright animalistic, and put his arm over Si-eun’s shoulder. Before he could even react, Soo-ho pulled him (with surprising strength) to his burning chest, hugging him like Si-eun was a mere stuffed animal. 

“Aish…” Si-eun grumbled. He was starting to feel hot; if he knew how high the temperature would be, he would’ve left his jacket at home. 

Soo-ho’s body was a burning furnace. Si-eun tried to wiggle himself out of his hold, but no matter how hard he tried, Soo-ho only tightened his arms further around him. Si-eun thought he would melt against Soo-ho’s chest, but weirdly enough, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Soo-ho’s scent was strong and it tingled his nose, but instead of being overwhelmed by it, he felt allured and triggered, like he was wafting aphrodisiac. 

Oh no, Si-eun cringed. This is a bad idea.

Soo-ho’s reluctance had never made much sense. He supposed that he was afraid of jumping on Si-eun like a hungry alpha, but the opposite was quite a risk too. Si-eun never knew how deep his desire for Soo-ho could run, and he was starting to suspect that it was an infinite profundity.

“Si-eun-ah…” His name left Soo-ho’s mouth again, a breathy sound that escaped a delusion. Si-eun almost wanted to wake him up  — preferably with a kiss. “My omega…”

Si-eun wrapped his arms around him, trying to feel his warmth and avoid a shiver. It was in vain.

“Soo-ho.” The tip of his nose brushed the curve of his chin, cold against his scorching fever. But, for once, he didn’t mind. He’d burn in hell with him if he so wished. “I’m right here.”

A few minutes later, Soo-ho’s grip on Si-eun weakened, and the omega managed to slip out of his hold, yet not completely. He had become accustomed to the heat in the room, so all he did was shake off his jacket and slip back onto Soo-ho’s embrace, which would always, in any circumstance, be his favorite place to be. 

He could now see Soo-ho’s whole torso. He hadn’t seen him shirtless before, not even during his heat when he bathed him. As he imagined, he was beautiful and sculptured like an ancient statue in the Louvre. He took his time to count his abs, and he wondered if he had ever been more muscular, when he trained as a MMA fighter. 

Si-eun was starting to get hot for completely different reasons, so he tried to focus on something else — like the rhythmic movement of his belly every time he breathed. 

Which gave him an idea.

Slowly and carefully, he put his hand above his abdomen, feeling it twitch slightly under his touch. When Soo-ho breathed again, his hand moved up and down, and Si-eun smiled, feeling his cheeks warm.

He rubbed his skin exactly like Soo-ho did for him when he was agonizing with cramps. He knew that wasn’t particularly useful for alphas — and Soo-ho was clearly not suffering from cramps, or else he’d be all curled up —, but Si-eun couldn’t do anything other than touch him. Touch him, and love him, and be by his side for whatever he could need.

He kept rubbing his belly for about ten minutes until he groaned in his sleep. His breathing became less rhythmic and more shallow. The next thing Si-eun heard was the deep, sleepy and raspy voice that he had missed so dearly:

“Granny…” He mumbled, wrinkling his nose. “I told you I don’t need belly rubs, this is an omega thing.”

Si-eun tried to avoid his laughter, only for it to come out through his breath. He continued massaging Soo-ho’s warm skin, unbothered by his complaints.

“Well, I just thought I should return the favor.”

Soo-ho opened his eyes immediately, wide and scared like he had just seen a horror movie. He looked around, blinking repeatedly until his vision spotted the figure lying next to him, with its hands firm on his belly.

His eyes twinkled with glee, and he opened a big smile.

“Si-eun!” He yelled. The smaller boy covered his ear, but could not escape Soo-ho’s bone crunching embrace and his shameless whiffs. “I thought I was dreaming. Or maybe hallucinating… It’s common for that to happen during lonely ruts.”

Si-eun hummed, hugging him back as best he could. 

“No, it’s very much real.” When he pulled back, he brushed Soo-ho’s sweaty hair out of his forehead and gave him a peck on the lips. The energy between them was charged, and Soo-ho’s eyes were hooded. “I’m here.”

“It was about time you visited my house.” Soo-ho told him, his tone more sultry than the situation required. “Although I wish it were in better circumstances…”

“The first time you visited my apartment for real was when I was in heat, so we’re even.” Si-eun gave him another quick peck — unable to resist, but forbidden to give in.

Soo-ho pouted at him, all whiny and sweaty and glorious. “Aish, I’m all hot and gross.”

Si-eun smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

Soo-ho grunted, pinching him on his left arm and kissing his fluffy cheek.

“You’re a stubborn pup, aren’t you?” Came his muffled murmur, a warm breath that passed through the tender skin of Si-eun’s face and went directly to the flesh of his neck, the one that was screaming for contact, his scent gland. “I told you not to come here.”

Si-eun squirmed under his grip. They could both feel it in the air — their scents mingling, overpowered by wet pinewoods; their bodies yearning for more contact; the promise of mating, and different skins becoming one. 

It was too much, but Si-eun wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I had to see you.” He answered, his head nuzzling the alpha until their foreheads touched. “You wouldn’t leave me alone if I was in heat either.”

Soo-ho sighed, his lips curling in dissatisfaction.

“That’s different.” He mumbled petulantly. Si-eun frowned and pulled his earlobe.

“It’s not.” He replied, and decided to change subjects before Soo-ho could be more stubborn about it. “So, how are you feeling?” 

Soo-ho let out a tired breath. He looked up as if he was searching for the right words to describe his symptoms.

“Hot and cold at the same time.” He puffed out his cheeks, irritated. “Tired, low energy. Sometimes when I shiver, I’m not sure if it’s because of the fever or because of something else. Also, my body hurts, although I can’t tell you were.”

Si-eun rolled his eyes. As if he wouldn’t know.

“I know.” He chuckled, and rubbed his hands up his arms, massaging his shoulder, nuzzling his neck with his soft hair. “I know, and I wish I could help you more.”

Soo-ho chuckled at his words, and Si-eun punched him, red faced. As Soo-ho laughed, Si-eun caught himself suppressing a laugh too. They both knew that the only way Si-eun could help more would be with sexual relief, but they weren’t about to do that with Grandma just outside the door.

Besides, Soo-ho wasn’t in his right mind to actually consent. If that was the reasoning for an omega, then it was the same for an alpha. At least, that’s how it should be.

Si-eun couldn’t help but feel disappointed, though. At least they could share hugs and kisses, which is one more thing than they did during his heat.

When Soo-ho finally stopped laughing and Si-eun felt like he could breathe again, they heard a loud noise, resembling a growl, that came from between their bodies. Si-eun could feel a vibration where his hand had been before, and it was his time to laugh while Soo-ho remained still as a rock, embarrassed.

“I guess you’re feeling hungry too.” He kissed Soo-ho’s cheek. The alpha sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, I’m starving for some ox bone soup.”

Si-eun smiled to himself. He was there to be useful, wasn’t he?

“Wait, where are you going?” Soo-ho whined, his arms extended to Si-eun’s direction, who was now standing up and ready to do his best to make his alpha comfortable.

“I’ll be right back with your ox bone soup.” 

“What?” He frowned, looking downright offended. “Noooo, don’t go!” He whined again, his body struggling against the mattress, resembling a forlorn puppy. 

Si-eun just laughed softly at him.

“I swear I won’t take long.”

“Don’t go…”

“I’ll be right back! I promise you.”

“Promise?” He pouted, looking at him with shiny and begging eyes. Si-eun came closer and crouched down, only to put his face in between his hands and kiss his pout away.

“I promise.” 

With their oath being sealed, Soo-ho let him go easily, although not without some irritated groans. Si-eun tip-toed his way out of the house without disturbing Grandma, and went to the nearest restaurant he could find, already counting his money.

When he returned with Soo-ho’s scorching hot soup in hands, Grandma seemed to sense his presence, and she opened the door hastily before he could even try to go through it unannounced.

“Si-eun-ssi, where were you?” She asked worriedly, looking like she has been searching for him the entire time he was away, which couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes. Si-eun only bowed slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Soo-ho told me he was hungry for ox bone soup, so I went out to buy it for him.” He shook his right hand, showing her the plastic bag with the soup packaging. 

“Oh dear, you shouldn’t have!” Grandma covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes big and startled. “You could have just told me and I would’ve prepared it for him!” She seemed a mix of surprised and disappointed. Suddenly, she kicked her foot on the ground, annoyed. “Oh, he’s giving you a headache already isn’t he? Aigoo! That troublesome boy!”

“Not really.” Si-eun shook his head. “He’s very whiny, but I can deal with that just fine.” He laughed, putting the weight of the bag of soup to his other arm. “This is the bare minimum compared to what Soo-ho did for me when I was in heat. I don’t think I will ever be able to repay him.” Literally, he wanted to say, but refrained. He never wanted grandma to think that his relationship with Soo-ho could be summed up by money exchanges. He didn’t think she’d ever believe that in the first place, but he knew best than to insinuate. 

Which reminded him: he had something to tell her. 

“Grandma.” Si-eun called her, successfully turning her attention to him. She seemed to like whenever he called her that, and his lips never failed to twitch in a smile when he did so. “I wanted to thank you.”

The elderly woman blinked, confused. She pointed at herself in disbelief.

“Me?” She asked. Her eyes were so wide now that it was a bit comical, but Si-eun didn’t mention it. Instead, he smiled warmly at her, feeling his heart bloom with all sorts of good feelings. 

“Yes. I wanted to thank you for raising Soo-ho so well.” He said it, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Grandma’s hand that was once pointed at herself came to rest in her heart, and her entire face faltered into an emotional countenance. “I’m so grateful to have him by my side. He’s the best alpha I’ve ever met, and surely the best one I could think of to ever court me. Actually, never in my wildest dreams I thought I would meet someone so incredible, that could love me so much and start a relationship so young. I’m grateful for him, for how respectful and honorable he is. He protects me, he respects me, and he likes me. All thanks to you.” 

When Si-eun thought that his heart could no longer say any other words, he bowed to her, trying to portray all his immense respect and admiration. His head was the lowest it could get, and yet he didn’t feel bothered — he could’ve spent the entire day right there, if not for the unsettled alpha waiting for him with an empty stomach. If he could, he would buy one hundred thousand things that could convey his gratitude for grandma, but nothing would ever be enough. Nothing could materialize her genuine labor of love and care for her grandson, so there he stood. 

There he stood, until he heard a sniffle, and a hand touching his shoulder. 

“Aish.” Another sniffle. Grandma tapped his shoulder once more. “Get up. C’mon, get up!” 

Once he did, he could see his reflection on her moist eyes. Under her warm gaze, he felt, too, as if he was her grandson; her hands squeezing his shoulders firmly was like a confirmation — here you are, and here I am.

“I taught my grandson what any other family should teach their alpha pups, or any pup whatsoever.” She started, her voice trembling with emotion. “But trust me when I say: my grandson wasn’t being just polite or gentlemanly.” She laughed, a wet vibration, and shook her head fondly. “He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on, and the very air you breathe.”

She looked him so deep in his eyes that Si-eun felt his heart beat differently, as if his blood had been made anew. It was then that Grandma told him what he so wished to hear, a confirmation that he didn’t really need, but he wished to get anyway:

“He doesn’t like you.” Even with her bright smile, her eyebrows curled into a frown as she denied him so — as if to say such a thing was absurdity. “He loves you!” 

Si-eun knew it in his mind and spirit, but his heart still beat desperately in response. He felt his cheeks warm as he failed to conceal a smile.

“And he loves you very, very much.” Grandma chased his eyes, which were casted downward in embarrassment. “I know. I was young and in love once too!” She smiled, and Si-eun couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Now go and give him his oh-so-desired ox bone soup.” She rolled her eyes, and her tone was mockingly irritated. “But if he says that this one is better than mine, you better tell me. I’ll have him begging for my food!”

Si-eun laughed and nodded. “Yes granny. Thank you.” 

“Aigoo! You’re too formal. Go on, go back inside, it’s getting cold!” She shooed him like he was a naughty cat, and he didn’t think to disobey her. 

Si-eun ran to Soo-ho’s run, the soup still hot and ready to be devoured. When he opened the door, the scent of Soo-ho’s hunger was obvious and present, almost in a threatening way, but the way his own body reacted to it told him that Soo-ho desired something else — something more — than a simple soup. It was implicit like a double meaning collocation, or subtext in books; but it was there, and it was strong, and Si-eun knew those days would be difficult. 

But that didn’t scare him. On the contrary.

“You want to spend all the rut days with me?” Soo-ho asked him, his mouth still full of food and his frown deeper than the pacific ocean. It seemed like he hadn’t taken Si-eun’s wish quite so well. “But alpha ruts go on for five days. That’s almost a whole week!”

“So?” Si-eun arched his eyebrows and lifted another spoon (he might’ve insisted on feeding him, but that’s not important). “You spent all the days of my heat taking care of me and I’ll spend all the days of your rut taking care of you. It’s that simple.”

Soo-ho groaned, feeling helpless. He threw his head back and refused Si-eun’s spoonful. “How many times do I have to tell you, these are diffe-”

“They’re not different, Soo-ho!” Si-eun let the spoon fall in the soup bowl, frustrated. He stared at Soo-ho dead in the eye, his pupils slim like a hawk’s. “Listen, you’re courting me, right?”

Soo-ho nodded slowly and hesitantly, not knowing how that had anything to do with it.

“So that means we’re a couple. We’re promised to be mated one day.” Soon, he desperately wanted to say, but he didn’t know when that would come to be. 

Soo-ho nodded again, this time with a sheepish pout. 

“What kind of mated couple are we if we’re not even comfortable together in times like these?” He asked him, feeling like he was doing so from the bottom of his heart. His sincerity must have shown in his voice, for Soo-ho returned his gaze with a little bit of shame behind his eyes and posture. “I want to take care of you. I want to make this easier for you… But if you really want me to leave, then I will. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, I just…” He averted his eyes, at a loss of words. “I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Perhaps that was a little selfish of him, after all — Si-eun couldn’t help but feel stingy when it came to his love for Soo-ho. He supposed it was only natural for an omega in such a volatile and passionate relationship to be worried sick about their alpha on a rut, but still, he knew that if it was the contrary and Soo-ho insisted to be with him during his heat against his will, things would be much different. Was that what Soo-ho meant? 

Si-eun wanted to curse. Stupid sub-gender stigmas. Wasn’t life hard enough as it was already? Why complicate it further?

Lost in thought, Si-eun didn’t notice Soo-ho’s hands approaching his face, and he jumped a little when he felt Soo-ho’s warm hands on him. He only relaxed when he saw Soo-ho’s tender smile and his calm chocolate brown eyes. He could’ve sworn he was releasing calming pheromones too, but he doubted he could control his scent during a rut. 

“I want you around me all the time, I thought that was obvious.” He mumbled, getting closer and closer until their foreheads touched. Si-eun felt warm all over again, those pleasant tingles in his belly making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “You’re supposed to be smart.”

Si-eun chuckled along with him.

“I’m not very smart when it comes to you, unfortunately.”

Their eyes locked. Si-eun wanted to kiss the air out of him.

“I just don’t want you to waste time, or to be overwhelmed. I might act so unlike me and I… I don’t know.” He sounded fearful and confused, his eyes unable to focus on a single spot. Si-eun’s hands came to rest on his wrists, and they were encapsulated in their own world made of mingled breaths, stolen glances and tangled limbs. 

“No time with you is a waste, I thought that was obvious.” He stared for a bit too long at Soo-ho’s lips until they curled into a smile. “I want to be next to you. Please let me stay.” 

When Soo-ho looked up, he found the most beautiful set of puppy eyes he had ever seen — bright, black like obsidians and wide like two bubble balls. 

And Soo-ho realized, then and there, that there was no way he could have ever not fallen in love with those eyes, and for the one who owned them. There was not a single universe in each and every galaxy that that didn’t occur — it was true to his blood like red cells, written in his DNA. 

“Of course.” He laughed, the sound escaping him like a breath that had been stuck for too long. Si-eun’s smile was also a reason for falling, and honestly, what wasn’t? “Granny will love to have you around.”

They embraced, Si-eun’s heart beating so much it was almost see through. They kissed, then they kissed some more, until Si-eun had to remind him that he was supposed to be eating. Si-eun had never been so happy to miss school before, but he guessed he was changing — something he never thought would happen. 

He never believed he would fall in love, or care for another person as much as he did for himself. He had no real examples at home, and all that could really give his life some sort of meaning was his studies. He believed he would never change; he would always be the boring, poker faced, indifferent Yeon Si-eun, with a heart of ice and an even colder stare.

But as he melted like butter into Soo-ho’s feverish skin, he realized he wouldn’t have to be cold. Never again.

Grandma indeed loved to have Si-eun home; so much that she prepared him food, gave him extra blankets, extra pillows, allowed him to use their TV at all times and even gave him a spare key of the house in case he needed to leave to do some sort of errand. She didn’t miss any opportunity to dote on him, which, to Soo-ho’s rut infested brain, was a reason to become even clingier to his omega and state his claim. Grandma would always poke fun at him when he became territorial — “Alphas, tch. Can you believe them?” —, but she was an understanding woman. 

Perhaps too understanding, since she didn’t even bat an eye when Soo-ho refused to let him go home to pack and, instead, lend him his clothes. That proved to be a bad idea over time, when Soo-ho became hornier and more possessive than either of them would expect. Maybe it was all part of nature — God knows how many times Soo-ho had to relieve himself in the bathroom while Si-eun waited awkwardly and equally frustrated in the room. But even with some obstacles and discomforts, Si-eun wouldn’t trade it for the world. To know that he was with Soo-ho during this moment, to know that both had seen the best and the worst of each other, brought him an intimate sort of comfort.

Besides, it didn’t hurt to cuddle to sleep every night. Si-eun was starting to dread the minute Soo-ho’s scent became weaker; he was starting to become really used to it, the wood so strong and the leather so thick that he could almost taste it and feel it with his fingertips. He loved to wake up to Soo-ho scenting him, his head practically buried on his neck, and his body pressing on him in ways that they should probably avoid. He loved to lose track of their kisses and feel Soo-ho’s roaming hands, trying to find his skin under his too-big t-shirts that made him look smaller and fluffier than he actually was. 

It was like a honeymoon of some sorts. Their little private world of sweetness. Si-eun didn’t want to go back to real life again.

But a simple notification on his phone made him remember — they did have a life out there. And people to look out for them. 

오범석

Si-eun, where are you? Are you with Soo-ho? You two haven’t been coming to school and people are starting to comment.

Si-eun frowned at the message, checking up on Soo-ho, who was scrolling on his phone. He was almost dozing off by what he could see, but he was sure that he had let the school know of his rut and, thus, had been given the week off. Si-eun wondered if it was really necessary for Beom-seok to tell him that people were gossiping about them. He really didn’t care anymore, all that mattered in that god forsaken school was Soo-ho and his studies, everything else was just another nuisance. 

Which made him think of Beom-seok again, his brows furrowing. Did he really think like that about his friend? Or was his friendship with him just not enough when compared to what he felt for Soo-ho? Maybe it was just an unconscious mishap, it didn’t have to mean anything, at least not for him to think over like his own thoughts were a riddle.

It was then that another message came through, even more curious than the other:

오범석

Either way, can we talk? There’s some things I need to say and I wanted you guys to meet me at my apartment. Just the two of you.

Si-eun frowned even more, feeling odd. What did Beom-seok want to say? Couldn’t it be said by the phone? What could be so serious that they had to meet in person like some sort of secret organization? And most importantly — could it wait? 

연시은

Soo-ho’s in a rut right now, and I’m helping him get through it. That’s why we haven’t been showing up to school.

This thing you want to tell us, is it really urgent?

The answer took a little while to come, but when it came, Si-eun sighed in relief.

오범석

No, I can wait until his rut is over. Just let me know when it ends, ok? 

연시은

Sure. It should end in two days. 

오범석

Then can you two meet me at my place as soon as it’s over?

연시은

It’s sounding a little urgent to me. Can’t you just say it through the phone?

오범석

I can’t. It’s really important.

연시은

You’re scaring me, Beom-seok.

오범석

Don’t worry. If anything, I’m the one who should be scared. 

연시은

???

Beom-seok???

seen at 22:27

Si-eun was sure that his frown was preposterous at this point. He was feeling a little out of breath after that interaction, and the fact that Beom-seok wasn’t answering him despite seeing his last message was making him feel anxious. It was late at night for God’s sake, why would he say something like that? What did he mean? What did he want to say? 

“Ya, Yeon Si-eun.” Soo-ho’s slurred and sleepy voice shook him out of his thoughts. His phone shook in his hands as a result of his startleness, and he decided to turn it off for the night — or else he’d be checking it every two minutes to see if Beom-seok replied. He had to be full of energy if he wanted to deal with a horny and clingy Soo-ho for another day. “Your scent changed. What’s gotten you spiked up? Huh? Who do I have to beat? What do I have to break?” 

He was doing that thing — that thing with his mouth and his eyes and his cheeks in which he looked like the fluffiest, most needy person that had ever existed. He approached him slowly, both in their respectives sides of the futon like some sort of married couple, until he pulled him into his (very much shirtless) chest. 

Ah, Si-eun thought with a burning face, I don’t think I can deal with this.

“Hmm, you’re smelling sweet again. Nice.” Soo-ho mumbled against his hair, and Si-eun wanted to stick his fingers into his skin and grasp it like one of his t-shirts, but all he could do was hug him back, molding himself to his embrace like liquid matter. “A little humid, too.”

“Can you stop describing my scent like I’m a freshly baked pastry?” Si-eun complained, feeling sheepish by the minute. What was I worried about again? He couldn’t remember. His brain had turned to mush.

“But you are a freshly baked pastry!” Soo-ho retorted, so excited that all the sleep seemed to have vanished from his body. “You’re the sweetest, hottest, most delicious pastry in the whole bakery.”

Si-eun struggled on his tight hug, hiding his burning cheeks on Soo-ho’s neck, wanting to bury himself alive from how embarrassed he was feeling. “Stop it, Soo-ho!”

“Aigoo, my shy baby.” The alpha kissed his head, his lips adoring his soft hair, and patted him on his back. “Let’s sleep, alright? All curled up.”

Si-eun smiled against his skin. He couldn’t deny that. 

When Soo-ho’s rut ended, Si-eun was the first to notice. He didn’t know his nose could be so sensitive to the point of perceiving the slightest change in humidity on someone else’s scent, but he supposed it had something to do with being so connected to Soo-ho — the fact that they stayed around each other almost uninterruptedly for five days also helped. 

It ended on a Wednesday, around the afternoon. Si-eun told Soo-ho that Beom-seok reached out to him via message on Monday, wanting to “talk”. He asked for the reason behind it, but Si-eun didn’t know either. He just knew that Beom-seok wanted to meet them, specifically, at his place.

“Well, at least we’ll get to give Grandma a break. I’m sure she’s tired of us.”

That turned out not to be true. Grandma missed her beloved grandson much more than he imagined, given his hectic schedule. She also loved to have Si-eun around, as she had made it very clear, and the minute she realized they would leave, she held them for at least an hour, determined to make a farewell cake.

“Granny, you’re acting like we’re moving to another country.” Soo-ho grumbled, watching as his Grandma carefully decorated her strawberry cake with a nice white frosting. “I swear I’ll bring Si-eun around more!”

“You say this, but you barely come home yourself!” She huffed indignantly. Soo-ho wanted to say that that wasn’t exactly his choice and that he needed to help with the finances, but decided not to push her buttons. Besides, it’s not like it was her fault anyway. He, too, would grow old someday. 

“I’ll remind him, Grandma. I can visit on the weekends.” Si-eun smiled. It was almost comical how much more relaxed and happy he was around them than anywhere else. He felt like somebody else completely; someone cared for since the very beginning. 

“You mean you two will visit on weekends, huh?” She arched her eyebrows at Soo-ho, who rolled his eyes. He glanced at Si-eun a bit desperately, as if to say “why am I being attacked?” “I thought I’d get to see Soo-ho more now that he’s not sleeping at school any longer, but he gets home late at night and leaves at the crack of dawn! Honestly.” She shook her head as she put her beautiful cake on the outdoor table. Soo-ho shared a look with Si-eun and smiled to himself; perhaps he shouldn’t tell her that he did it solely to give Si-eun an early ride to school, at least not yet.

They had a great time saying goodbye to Granny. Her cake was delicious and so was the juice from the fruits of her little garden. Si-eun thanked her once again, and she only pinched his cheeks like he was the most adorable puppy. Soo-ho indeed had her genes and her mannerisms in him. Si-eun couldn’t complain.

To leave such a pleasant environment to go to a cold and bleak one such as that of Beom-seok’s apartment was a little disorienting. During the ride, while his hands were tightly wrapped around Soo-ho’s waist and his head was carefully protected by his red helmet, Si-eun tried to convince himself that it was nothing serious. Maybe Beom-seok was feeling low and just wanted to talk about what happened to him — about all the bullying and all the pain. They had done that before; Si-eun knew it hadn’t been easy on him, so much that he even fought with Soo-ho over it. 

The only thing Si-eun could offer him was his understanding, and his support.

When they arrived, they both sent him a message, hoping he would respond quickly. Beom-seok visualized the messages, but on Si-eun’s chat, he kept writing and deleting his answer, as though he didn’t know what to say.

Si-eun felt an eerie and haunting feeling come over him like a sea wave.

If anything, I’m the one who should be scared.

What did that even mean?

오범석

You guys can come up. I’ll be waiting with the door open.

They didn’t take long to arrive at his floor. While they were moving up, Soo-ho told him that one day he’d live in a fancy building like that one, and he would get to take mirror selfies on the large elevator glass. Si-eun smiled at the thought, hoping it would be enough encouragement. 

When the elevator doors opened, they could see the light coming from Beom-seok’s door. The corridor was dimly lit, but the large windows of Beom-seok’s apartment were enough to call their attention. Once they were standing in front of him, the beta didn’t greet him with anything more than a tight smile. 

Si-eun was not looking forward to whatever he had to say. 

“How was your rut? Are you feeling okay?” Beom-seok asked Soo-ho right after he returned from the kitchen. They were served that nice watermelon juice again, along with some cookies. Si-eun couldn’t help but think that he was making small talk to delay the inevitable discomfort that was about to come. He even considered telling him that they had eaten a sweet just a few minutes earlier, that they weren’t hungry and he should go straight to the point. 

In fact, he hoped that said point had something to do with the fact that Beom-seok was limping. Ever since he walked with them inside the apartment, his steps had been weak and uneven, and the fact that he was now sitting couldn’t make Si-eun forget — especially because he took a long time adjusting his hips to be comfortable. Si-eun wanted to stop his grimace, but caught himself unable to do so. 

Well, that was until Soo-ho made his presence known to him again. Leave it to Soo-ho to make him forget even his own name. 

“It was okay. Painful as always, but surprisingly, having my omega around helped.” Soo-ho bumped Si-eun’s shoulder before taking a sip of his juice. 

Si-eun’s face burned — that was the first time Soo-ho had called him his omega in front of someone else. He had called him that before, in his delirious state, but having that possessive pronoun attached to him like that so evidently brought too many feelings at once. 

“What do you mean surprisingly?” Si-eun huffed, trying to hide his red face while sipping on his equally red watermelon juice. Honestly, he might’ve given Soo-ho too much freedom to mess around with him. 

Beom-seok let out a long and loud sigh, taking them out of their distraction. As if he was tired of his very existence, he told them:

“I’m going to study abroad. I’m headed to the Philippines” 

Soo-ho and Si-eun stared at him for a few minutes, a bit disbelieved. He really didn’t beat around the bush, and Si-eun was grateful for it. 

But then, why did he look so forlorn? Wasn’t that a nice opportunity? Was he going by force? Was he sad to leave them? Si-eun didn’t understand. It was big news, that was true, but one that definitely could be said by the phone. He could’ve even told him on Monday, and Si-eun would’ve anticipated their encounter with Soo-ho; maybe they would even buy him a gift and some food to celebrate.

But Beom-seok didn’t look in the mood to celebrate. In fact, he looked like that was the last thing he wanted to tell them. 

“Um…” Si-eun mumbled, unsure of what to say. He decided to be sensible about it; after all, no matter how much Beom-seok wanted to play it cool, no one could deny that he was quite sensitive. “Are you happy with that?”

The question seemed to catch Beom-seok off guard, who opened his mouth in a sharp inhale, and let out a frustrated breath afterwards, one that made his cheeks puff and swell. When he stared back at them, he looked high on painkillers.

“My father’s forcing me to go. He’s not exactly the most… Loving dad.”

And just like that, Si-eun knew. Beom-seok’s father was the reason he was limping, almost unable to sit. And if Beom-seok was dealing with that as if it barely bothered him, then that meant it was a regular — almost natural — occurrence. 

Si-eun looked at Soo-ho. Soo-ho looked back at him. He understood too.

“But that’s not really what I wanted to talk about today.” Beom-seok went on, breathing in deeply again. His hands grasped the arms of the chair as if he was about to take flight. His nervous pheromones didn’t go unnoticed by Si-eun, who was responding to them in kind.

“Then what do you want to say to us?” Soo-ho asked him before Si-eun could ask the same thing. Soo-ho put a hand on Si-eun’s thigh, sensing his discomfort. The omega didn’t even realize he was trembling and balancing his right leg frantically until Soo-ho put a stop to it. “C’mon, just tell us already.”

Beom-seok relaxed his hands, the tips of his fingers unclenching on the fabric of the chair. He turned his head slightly to look at Si-eun, and as if a spell had been cast between them, Si-eun felt hypnotized under his gaze — his guilty, painful, soul-crushing, regretful gaze. It was the look of someone who resented his own life, and wished to apologize for breathing. It was the look of someone who had had enough, who had seen too much, who couldn’t take it anymore. 

And then, just like that, he said it.

“I knew what was gonna happen to you that day of the mock test.”

Si-eun’s heart jumped in his chest before his mind was able to even comprehend it. The hand that was resting on his leg tightened so much that it began to hurt. He could see Soo-ho’s jaw clenching from the corner of his eye, but he felt paralyzed, overtaken by the most horrible feeling.

“What?” Soo-ho asked, his eyes twitching. His voice was high pitched, but his question came out slowly, like it dreaded to leave his mouth. Beom-seok, too, looked dreadful and hesitant, but also cornered, very much aware that he had nowhere to run. The path of honesty was like a river that only flowed forward — and so, once he opened that dark and hidden box of secrets, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. The truths just kept coming out, like fireflies when the sun set. 

“He showed me the heat inducing drug and told me how it worked.” Beom-seok admitted, his teeth gritted and his eyes almost shut from how much he was cringing. He felt like he was in physical pain, and he couldn’t look Si-eun in the eye and watch the hurt in those black dots like betrayal. “I knew he was going to… I knew he was going to rape you if you turned out to be an omega.”

Si-eun felt sick to his stomach. His belly began to burn like he had drunk a cup of acid, and he couldn’t stand on his feet. His body was trembling, causing him so much discomfort, and yet he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even ask why. He just stood there, sitting and staring at Beom-seok like he was a complete stranger. 

What hurt the most wasn’t even that he knew — it was that he pursued him, desperate for his acknowledgement, and lied about it. He said he didn’t know. He said it, and Si-eun believed it. 

Then why?

Beom-seok started speaking again, as if he was simply telling a day-to-day event. The pressure on Si-eun’s thigh suddenly disappeared, and there was a moving shadow by his side, quickly going to his front.

“He didn’t tell me what he was going to do specifically, but I just figured-”

Beom-seok didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Soo-ho had punched him right in the face. The impact was so strong that Beom-seok flew out of his chair, landing pathetically on the ground with his hand covering the side of his face which had been hurt. Soo-ho was standing over him, his hands still curled  into fists, and he was panting, practically fuming like an angry and hungry wolf.

“I don’t wanna hear anything else that comes out of your mouth.” Soo-ho’s voice was a calculated threat, rough like he hadn’t used it in ages. Si-eun didn’t have to look at his face to know it was red with fury, that his veins were popping on his forehead and that he was dying to let Beom-seok get a taste of his martial ability. “You thought I wouldn’t kick your ass at your own home? That’s why you called us here? Because you thought you’d be safe?” 

Beom-seok could see from where he was lying on the ground — his eyes bulging, the contraction of his facial muscles, the veins of his arms and the fists that were still ready to punch. 

“Well, you thought it fucking wrong!” He yelled, making both he and Si-eun flinch in their respective places. Soo-ho was livid, and it was almost funny how, in each and every time that he had seen him that way, it had to do with Si-eun. He should’ve known better than to mess with him, yet still… His survival instincts took over. Too bad he never knew what was best for himself. “I’m going to kill you.”

To their obnoxious surprise, Beom-seok laughed. 

He laughed like all the air in his lungs was escaping in those desperate breaths. He was laughing like a maniacal criminal, like a sadistic prisoner delighted with his own cell. It was mortifying to watch — Si-eun felt like bugs were crawling on his skin and it made him want to curl into himself. It was disgusting. It was fucking irritating.

“Please do, I’m begging you.” Beom-seok’s answer came in a wheeze, almost like a joke. Soo-ho’s eyebrows twitched and he had never wanted to commit murder more than he did at that very moment. He doubted anyone could stop him, not even Si-eun. “If you’re going to do it anyway, then let me give you another reason.”

Si-eun shook in his place, terrified. Another reason? What more could he have done to harm them in such a short period of time? They haven’t been friends for that long. 

But then again, Beom-seok was sneaky like a thief and reactive like a bomb. He should’ve seen it coming.

“I told Jeong-chan and Tae-hoon about your bike. I even told them when they could act, and they probably did it when you left the bike at Si-eun’s building that Saturday.” He said it smoothly, without any stutter or pauses, but his face, now red and swelling from the punch, carried all his remorse in the darkness of his eyes and the way he appeared so soulless.

But when Si-eun rose from his sitting stance and walked over to him, he didn’t care about his remorse. What was remorse in the face of tragedy? What was remorse if there were such bad intentions all along? What were intentions when it came to results? None of that mattered, nothing was as important as the fact that-

“You could’ve killed Soo-ho!” Si-eun grabbed Beom-seok by the collar of his shirt, seeing his front teeth showing up as he hissed in discomfort. Si-eun’s eyes were warm and wet with tears, but he refused to let them fall. “They messed with his brakes and made him get in an accident that could’ve been much worse! Do you have any idea of how serious this is?”

No matter how much he shook him by the neck and yelled into his face, Si-eun felt like he was speaking to a dead body, or to a mannequin. His words couldn’t reach Beom-seok, as if he was miles away, lost at sea and completely unreachable. Just behind him, Soo-ho’s pheromones were attempting to calm him down, but they were causing the reverse reaction; they were both too furious, too heartbroken, too betrayed to even think of calming down. 

When Beom-seok didn’t answer him, Si-eun wanted to force him to. He wanted to torture him until he spoke, like an underground criminal or a shady policeman. He wanted to remove his nails and cut the tip of his fingers, then burn down his feet. 

He wanted him to regret it. 

To truly, truly regret it. Even if he looked remorseful and saddened by his own actions, it wasn’t enough. Soo-ho could’ve been killed, and Si-eun could’ve been raped, all of that with his conscious help. Nothing could ever change that.

Were those days they spent together just a bunch of lies? Was their friendship a waste of time and energy? Did he really only mean them harm, or did he harbor any good feelings at all? Did he want their friendship for real, or was it only their protection? Had any of it been real? Or had he imagined it?

“Beom-seok…” As Si-eun called his name, his voice trembling and weak, he realized it hadn’t been real. Not real enough. “Why did you do that?”

But the way Beom-seok was looking at him with so much pain, so much pent up misery and distress — that was real. And that was what hurt the most; the fact that none of them could save him in the end.

“I don’t know why.” He told him, and there was sincerity in the rumble of his voice and in the way his eyes shone brightly with tears. 

Si-eun honestly considered punching him too, just to make it even. Beom-seok seemed to have a similar thought process, for he closed his eyes shut and flinched away, waiting for his fist to collide with his face.

But the impact never happened.

Si-eun dropped him to the ground, releasing his hold on his now wrinkled t-shirt. He stood up, feeling dizzy and lightheaded, only to be brought against Soo-ho’s chest, feeling his warmth. Along with the nice sensation of his firm chest, he could feel his heart beating wildly, and that gave him some sort of comfort.

“You disgust me.” The alpha looked at Beom-seok like he was a vomit stain, or like his words could curse him until his 10th reincarnation. “Get lost. Don’t come near me and my omega ever again. Have fun in the Philippines.” I hope you die.

Soo-ho grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. While Soo-ho’s steps were firm and directed, Si-eun couldn’t feel his movements, stuck in a trance. His head was heavy as if someone had filled it with water; there was so much new information to process and all of it changed his entire perspective of things — especially his view on Beom-seok, who he swore just an hour ago was his friend.

When he looked back, chasing wistfully that friend he once had, all he could see was Beom-seok’s limp body on the ground, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if asking God to forbid his sins.

They went out the door. They never saw him again.

Si-eun liked to think that he had come to process that loss pretty well. The days went by as they always did, and Soo-ho’s comforting presence brought him immense tranquility; nothing could compare to Soo-ho’s hugs, or his shoulder kisses and hand holding. They helped to ease the heaviness of his thoughts, which were concentrated on Beom-seok and his horrible confessions. His last one, in particular, told him that Beom-seok had been acting like some sort of “double agent”, telling their bullies information that they could use against them while pretending to be their friend. That helped him sort things out in his head, and make the separation of the Beom-seok he thought he knew and the Beom-seok that truly existed  — an insecure boy who was determined to do anything to save his own skin, even betray his so-called friends. 

But what did help him come to terms with everything that happened a little faster was Beom-seok’s absence.  

His departure had been quick and quiet — being the adopted son of a political figure had its perks, although it didn’t promise a healthy family setting. He left in an awkward period, just as awkwardly as he had arrived. Si-eun wondered just how much Beom-seok’s father hated him to the point of sending him to another country against his will just so he wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. He also wondered if he had made a safe trip, and if he was feeling okay in the new country, which caused him to frown and curse himself. Why do I even care?

If it wasn’t for Soo-ho, he doubted he’d be able to take that lightly. Si-eun wasn’t used to affection, much less friendships. To be betrayed so awfully by someone he considered close to him was a hurtful blow. If something were to happen to his and Soo-ho’s relationship, he didn’t think he’d make it out unscathed. It was unhealthy, and shamefully codependent, he knew; but Soo-ho was all he had — his only example of love, of devotion, of unconditional care.

Well, he also had Young-yi.

“I hope he’s happy in Thailand, that fucker.” She barked angrily, her arms crossed and her carefully designed eyebrows curled into a deep frown. “Actually, no. Sarcasm is not enough for me anymore. I have to be literal about my despise.”

They had told her everything as soon as they could. Unfortunately, the only time they had was also during her work shift. Luckily, they managed to catch her on her break, which was just enough for her to wander around in the space of two meters, pacing back and forth as if she couldn’t fathom everything she was feeling. Perhaps that was right.

“I think he went to the Philippines.” Si-eun frowned, almost sure that he was correct. He looked at Soo-ho, who nodded at him. 

“He definitely went to the Philippines.” They were sitting on a table right in front of her, accompanied by Young-yi’s vacant seat. She seemed unable to stop walking and complaining, not that Si-eun could blame her.

“Does he really think going to Thailand is gonna make up for his sins? Well I hope he chokes!” 

“The Philippines, Young-yi.”

“That snake, pretending to be our friend when he was an enemy all along! That coward, that fake stuck up bitch, that two-faced moron, that wolf in sheep’s clothing, that angel-faced devil with glasses!” She spat, looking a bit funny with her colorful hair and murderous face, the contrast making her look like a gremlin. “But Karma’s gonna get him, I know. The Thai are gonna avenge us.”

“Young-yi, for the thousandth time.” Si-eun sighed annoyedly while Soo-ho pinched the bridge of his nose. “Beom-seok went to the Philippines!”

“I don’t care, alright?” She snapped, and Si-eun genuinely felt like something had exploded on his face. He even felt a strawberry scented wind blow on the skin of his cheeks. “I don’t care if he’s off to fucking Afeganistan to shake hands with Malala and end poverty in favor of the education of young women, I ain’t gonna forgive him!”

They stood in silence for some time. Soo-ho seemed to be absorbing all of Young-yi’s recent outburst, but Si-eun could only think of a small detail that was bothering him like a splint on his finger. 

When Young-yi appeared to have finally calmed down, he spoke:

“Malala is Pakistani.”

Another round of silence. Young-yi let out the longest sigh, along with an irritated groan.

“You’re annoying, did you know that, Si-eun?” She squinted her eyes at him, her arms still very much crossed. But alas, she finally sat down at her chair again, allowing them to breathe her calmer smell. “You’re real fucking annoying.”

Soo-ho gasped, and covered Si-eun’s ears with his hands as if Young-yi had said the most outrageous profanity ever. 

“Don’t say that ever again!” He yelled at her, his lips turned into a petulant pout. When he took his hands off Si-eun’s ears, he rubbed his cheeks and slid his fingers through his hair. “You’re not annoying, baby. Don’t listen to her.”

Si-eun smiled slightly, feeling his cheeks burn. Soo-ho had been a lot more physically touchy with him after Beom-seok told them about his wrongdoings, and Si-eun wasn’t about to complain. Any sort of comfort was welcome.

“Argh.” Young-yi groaned again. They could hear her asking “why don’t you two just get a room already?”. She had asked them that before.  

“I can’t believe this.” She puffed out her cheeks and slammed her feet on the ground. “I wanna do something, but I can’t! Aren’t you guys mad? You should be mad!”

Granted, both Soo-ho and Si-eun looked calm and collected — way more than the situation called for. It was a little strange; they hadn’t talked about it, they hadn’t sat down together to go through everything that Beom-seok had told them. They didn’t even mention his name anymore in their conversations. It was like he had died, along with their friendship. Si-eun took his strength from Soo-ho’s closeness and so did Soo-ho, who rejoiced in taking care of Si-eun in any way. They were each other’s battery recharger, healing every discomfort with unspoken understanding and physical displays of affection. 

“I guess we just…” Soo-ho mumbled, his eyes lost, looking for the right words to say. “Moved on. Got over it. I don’t know.”

Young-yi arched her eyebrows. Soo-ho didn’t sound quite so confident.

“Is that so?” She sounded inquisitive. Si-eun wanted to tell her to work for the police, but had a feeling she’d punch him if he said it. “Then you guys didn’t care as much about him as I thought you did.”

That caught Si-eun off guard. He could feel that unpleasant sensation on his throat that he had felt several times before when he was a child — the feeling of wanting to say something, but being unable to. Choking on words, figuratively; sometimes literally.

“It’s not that.” He answered. Soo-ho and Young-yi looked at him curiously, but also respecting the seriousness that his voice conveyed. Si-eun swallowed uncomfortably before proceeding. “It’s just… He did all these horrible things to us, and he confessed it all at the end. It was like he was getting himself clean to start anew somewhere else. He wanted to leave no secrets behind.” 

As he spoke, Si-eun felt like he could see Beom-seok there with them, sitting by Young-yi’s side. He was smiling tiredly, but it was a friendly smile — one that he would often give him when Si-eun aced a test or when they planned to go out on the weekends. It was an easy smile, something that told him that he was finally at peace. 

Wasn’t that such a weird thing to imagine? Such a weird thing to feel?

“Hm, what I mean is,” Si-eun coughed a little, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere. Soo-ho’s hand, which was resting on his hip, went rigid for a while. He didn’t like that. “The guilt consumed him, and he wanted to come clean. There’s nothing else to say. We just have to accept what he did and move on with it. It is what it is.”

Young-yi sighed, but didn’t say anything for a while. Soo-ho tightened his embrace on him, and Si-eun wanted to lay his head on his shoulder. After sometime, Young-yi got up again, strangely renewed — apparently, letting all your anger out in several complaints could do some good to the spirit.

“Well, you know what they say.” She began, laying her arms on the top of her chair. “Can’t cry over spílled milk. In this case, you can’t cry over spilled orange juice and coconut oil.” She rolled her eyes, but her face carried the hint of a smile. “I gotta get going, before Miss Choi comes yelling at me to come back to work.”

Si-eun nodded, and Soo-ho wished her a nice end of shift. While Young-yi grabbed an empty tray, she frowned at him.

“What are you even doing here anyway? Today’s your day off. Go do something fun.” 

Soo-ho smiled wildly, and suddenly his face was buried on Si-eun’s neck, making him stifle a laugh. 

“I definitely will.”

While Soo-ho would rather always do something fun with Si-eun, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t follow his grandma’s advice — partly because of her, and partly because of himself. He was too much of a “grandma’s boy” to disappoint her, and he had a serious case with every responsibility that rested on his shoulders. 

So he and Si-eun had an uncomfortable conversation. They reached an agreement. Calls were made. And so, Soo-ho prepared himself the best way he could to win over his omega’s parent’s blessings. 

The day came around eventually. Si-eun was waiting in front of one of the town’s fanciest restaurants when he heard a few steps behind him, and a familiar, loving smell of pinewood in the rain. When he turned around, he could see Soo-ho walking in his direction, a taxi still parked next to the sidewalk. There was no sign of his motorcycle; even the blinding smile on the alpha’s face couldn’t distract him from that fact.

“Hi, baby.” Soo-ho greeted him with a small peck on the lips. While Si-eun wanted to deepen the kiss, they were already late, and he wasn’t looking forward to extending that encounter for longer than absolutely necessary.

“I thought you were coming with your bike.” He noted, looking up at Soo-ho with a barely concealed smile. Soo-ho could swear there were stars in his eyes — or maybe it was just the reflection of the light. 

“I didn’t want to risk getting a hair out of place.” He slid his hand on the side of his head, making sure his carefully gelled hair strands were all nice and perfect. He was dressed in black dress pants and a formal clear blue t-shirt. If Si-eun was being honest, he looked like he was about to go to a job interview at Samsung's company.

But he looked… Nice. Handsome. It was the first time Si-eun saw him without his fringe, and he rather enjoyed the sight; his angular and masculine features looked more prominent, the apples of his cheeks and his forehead looked glistening and smooth. Oh, he was so beautiful, his alpha.

“You know that wasn’t necessary.” Si-eun chuckled, unable to hide his smile any longer. He was 95% sure that Grandma had something to do with the excessive formality in his appearance, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. Whatever made Soo-ho feel safer was enough for him.

“I just wanted to make a good impression.” Soo-ho answered him in a quick breath. His hands came to rest in the tight collar of his shirt, pulling it so he could gulp down his worries. Si-eun took one of his hands in his and smoothed his palm, looking at him adoringly. Soo-ho had a few lines he had practiced to say to Si-eun’s parents before he arrived, but they all disappeared once Si-eun looked at him like that, with so much affection — a sort of fondness that couldn’t fit in one’s body, or in one’s chest.

“Just be yourself. That’s enough of a good impression.” Si-eun smiled at him, that smile that was becoming all the more frequent, and he brought his face down to kiss him on the cheek. “C’mon, we’re already late.”

When they entered the restaurant, Soo-ho was beet red, a little disoriented, and Si-eun had to guide him to their table along with the waiter, or else Soo-ho would probably get lost. When they finally reached their destination, the first thing they did was bow respectfully, the sight a bit scary with its stiffness and synchronicity.

“Mom, dad.” Si-eun greeted them, his hand still tight on Soo-ho’s. His voice was robotic when directed at his parents, but when they stood up, he looked them confidently in the eye and proceeded to tell: “This is my boyfriend, Ahn Soo-ho.”

Soo-ho’s hand twitched under his hold. He felt out of breath; his face was sweating and his clothes felt too tight. That was the first time Si-eun said that out loud — even if he had asked to court him, even if he loved him so badly, it was such a wake up call to hear him say it. It was real, obvious, and official. And that day, they would make it even more so.

Well, if Si-eun’s parents so wished. 

Si-eun’s father was the first to acknowledge them. He gave them a thin smile, the slightest upturn of his lips, and nodded to confirm their presence. Although Si-eun’s dad was a chill and apparently oblivious man, he looked painfully uncomfortable sitting in those velvety chairs wearing his sports jackets. He seemed out of place and even a bit nervous — that made Soo-ho feel a little bad for him, at the same time that he felt a bit relieved to know that he wasn’t the only one on the verge of a panic attack.

And if he had to guess, his uneasiness had something to do with the woman sitting next to him.

Si-eun’s mother was the scariest omega Soo-ho had ever seen. Not that she had a scary face or anything like that — she was actually a very beautiful woman, and he didn’t expect less from someone who birthed a masterpiece such as Si-eun —, but she had a heavy aura surrounding her. Her eyes were cold and didn’t show interest in Soo-ho at all, the same disinterest being directed at her own son who she hadn’t seen in months. She had no smell whatsoever; even the best brands of scent blockers still left a faint smell, but hers was nullified. It was as if she wanted to remain as unattainable as possible, unreachable and mysterious, inaccessible to everyone she deemed unworthy, even her own flesh and blood.

Soo-ho knew right then and there that, if she didn’t like him, no matter what he did or what he said, he’d never be able to change her mind or impress her. That knowledge was like a weight on his shoulders, making him stand with his head down and his confidence destroyed. He didn’t want to speak to her, he didn’t want to know her name or what she did for a living, he didn’t want to know her smell behind those strong scent blockers; all he wanted was to proclaim his love for her son and leave. Why did he have to ask them? Why did he have to beg for their approval? Why did he have to confirm something that didn’t need confirmation at all? It was so simple. All that ridiculousness for nothing. 

But Soo-ho would endure. Soo-ho would endure it all for Si-eun. He’d walk out of that restaurant officially compromised, young as he might be, with the love of his life. 

Because no one could tell him he was too young to know — he loved Si-eun, and Si-eun loved him. That was all that mattered. 

Si-eun looked at him, as if asking for his confirmation to sit down. As if to tell him — she won’t say anything. We’ll be waiting all day if it’s up to her.

So they sat, side by side yet still so far away. Soo-ho felt the sweat on his hands run cold with the absence of Si-eun’s flesh on his, and he was already dying to leave. He didn’t recall being easily intimidated, but the icy stare of that poised woman was almost making his skin crawl. If they were to turn into wolves, she looked like she would chew him alive and spit the remains of his body right after. Soo-ho hated to admit it, but he could see a little bit of her in the coldness of Si-eun’s usual bored stare, and he felt bad for thinking like that. 

Unlike that woman, Si-eun had a warm heart. He just had to dig it a little bit.

“So, you guys finally decided to tell the truth.” Si-eun’s father, surprisingly, was the one to break the silence. He seemed like the type of guy to make jokes to crack the uncomfortable atmosphere whenever he ran into such inconveniences; he also looked like he failed miserably at it every time. “No more good friends, but boyfriends?”

He didn’t seem mad; in fact, he sounded amused, so Soo-ho thought it would be nice to respond in kind. 

“O-Oh, yeah, we decided to-”

“You two met before?” The woman — Si-eun’s mother , for Christ’s sake — finally spoke. Her eyes shifted from her ex-husband to Soo-ho, her very symmetrical eyebrows raised in doubt, almost defiance. She looked like she was about to challenge them for a mental battle, or like she would make them beg for her to be pleased with their answer. Soo-ho felt his stomach make an uncomfortable flip. Why did she have to be so scary?

“Yes, they were together in the apartment when I came home from work, I think that was two weeks ago, or three.” Si-eun’s father answered before Soo-ho had the chance to. He wanted to slap his forehead and grit his teeth; he could feel Si-eun become stiff in his seat as well, and meanwhile, his father didn’t seem the least bit worried. How could he phrase it like that? How could he act so nonchalant about it towards someone who clearly wasn’t taking it lightly? If anything, Si-eun’s mother was the most serious woman that had even walked the Earth.

“Oh, I see.” Her piercing eyes came to rest on Soo-ho’s mortified face, and her eyebrows were still painfully raised, to the point in which Soo-ho doubted they would ever relax. She was suspicious of him, he knew it — what was she thinking? That he was one of those disrespectful alphas that took omegas’ virginities before they even dated? That he was an alpha who didn’t care about traditional courting or relationship rituals? But then again, if he didn’t, why would he even bother to meet her? To meet both of them? To be sitting there right in front of her was enough proof of his affection for her son. That woman had a weaponized aura. 

“That’s not what you’re thinking.” Soo-ho waved his hands nervously, his voice weak and trembling. “We were studying before my shift at work began. We ended up losing track of time.”

Si-eun’s mother took a sip of her white wine, but her eyes were still glued to Soo-ho. There was an amused glint in them that told him — she was toying with him.

“I wasn’t thinking anything bad.” She answered, sounding a bit too condescending. Soo-ho heard Si-eun let out a tired breath by his side. “Not that you would know what I’m thinking, right?”

“Mom.” Si-eun hissed. Soo-ho could feel his distress in waves of bitter coffee and burnt chocolate. He wanted to grab his hand under the table, but he couldn’t move, his heart beating a mile a minute from how much that stupid reunion was making him nervous. He hadn’t even ordered anything yet! “He’s telling the truth.”

His mother smiled amusingly. She was, somehow, having fun — perhaps she took joy in making people feel nervous, embarrassed, lesser than. Soo-ho felt strangely happy that Si-eun was stuck with his dad instead of her, although that wasn’t much better. At least his father wasn’t sadistic.

“I’m sure he is.” She spoke, once again condescending, as if she was calming down a child. Soo-ho felt irritated on Si-eun’s behalf, biting his cheek. “And what do you mean by shift? Do you work somewhere?”

Soo-ho gulped yet again, feeling like he was going to die suffocated before lunchtime ended. 

“Yes. I work part time as a delivery boy and as a waiter in a restaurant. I have to help my grandmother with the expenses.” He answered, toying with his fingernails and looking anywhere but directly at her. He wished he could say more, or sound more confident, but everything he said or did made him feel unsure of himself. He just wanted to get that over with and leave.

But surprisingly, Si-eun’s mother nodded and smiled slightly, seemingly pleased. If she were anyone else, he’d dare say that she looked proud.

“You sound like a good alpha.” 

It was funny, Soo-ho thought, how much people valued him once they knew him as hardworking. Perhaps it was the secular stereotype that alpha’s were made to provide for their packs, their mates and their pups, or maybe it was just the parent’s desire to have their omega child sheltered and mated to a diligent wolf. Either way, Soo-ho found himself thanking the stereotypes for once — they had gotten that terrifying woman on his side, for once.

It turned out that that fancy place was Si-eun’s mother’s favorite restaurant. They met there every few months to “catch up”, although Soo-ho was sure that they didn’t do much talking. That was also why Si-eun hadn’t even bothered to show up nicely; he had just thrown a dark shirt, a simple jacket and a pair of jeans. It’s not like his Si-eun needed much to be drop dead gorgeous, but Soo-ho couldn’t help but feel a little stupid in his formal clothes while standing next to him and his father, who seemed so utterly careless about dress codes. 

Either way, he got to know it because Si-eun had told him about it before, but even if he hadn’t, he’d figure it out just by the way the waiter knew Si-eun’s mother’s favorite dish — “the usual, as always.” — and how they seemed to recognize each other by looks alone. 

While she got herself a red berry cheesecake, Si-eun’s father stuck to the traditional and asked for Italian pasta. But he and Si-eun didn’t get any food; Soo-ho was so uncomfortable that he wouldn’t be able to eat anything. 

As for Si-eun… Si-eun had a weird look in his eyes, and they were staring at his mom. He was looking at her as if he wanted to provoke her; as if he wanted to say something that would wipe that satisfaction of her face, that would destroy her pleasure from eating that god forsaken cheesecake that held more importance to her than her own child. He looked vicious, and overly annoyed. 

Soo-ho couldn’t blame him. 

If it were up to Si-eun’s father or even Si-eun himself, they would be in silence throughout the entire lunch time. Luckily, something seemed to have struck Si-eun’s mother’s curiosity, for she kept throwing Soo-ho questions then and there. How’s your work schedule? Oh, so you used to sleep at school? Do you plan to go to college? What do you want to do when you graduate? Things a mother — as laughable as that label would sound to describe her — would want to know.

Soo-ho answered them all. He wasn’t monosyllabic, but he didn’t elaborate too much on his answers either. They were honest and straight to the point, much like Soo-ho’s own personality. Just be yourself, Si-eun told him. He’d make that count.

Until, suddenly, Si-eun’s mother dropped her cutlery, the metallic sound almost threatening against her glass plate. She also dropped her smile, and solely supported her chin with the back of her two hands, looking at Soo-ho and Si-eun like she wanted to decipher their reasoning. 

“What is the real reason you called us here, Si-eun?”

So she’s straightforward as well, Soo-ho thought, holding in a breath. Of course she is.

But Si-eun didn’t seem the least bit surprised by that. Usually Si-eun’s hard to impress, and Soo-ho could see where he had gotten that from. He and his mother were fighting with their eyes, a challenge running between them, back and forth, electric as lightening.

“I’m glad you asked.” Si-eun answered her a few seconds later, and Soo-ho didn’t miss the disdain in his voice. It was then that his omega’s eyes found his own, and they softened immediately, turning encouraging instead. Go ahead, Si-eun smiled softly at him. Everything’s gonna be alright.

Soo-ho took a deep breath, feeling his chest rise with renewed confidence. Si-eun was by his side. He could do this.

He looked Si-eun’s mother straight in the eye — his dad all but forgotten — and said:

“I want to ask for your blessing to court your son.”

Surprisingly enough, those words didn’t leave Soo-ho’s mouth with any ounce of nervousness, of stutter or insecurity. He said it with all the confidence he had momentarily lost as he felt the waves of neglect that left those two parents, but there was something that he knew — something that was so clear, so unwavering, that made all his fears and doubts fade away:

Their answer didn’t matter.

If they accepted, then he’d have their blessing to court and mate Si-eun for life. But if they refused, he would court and mate him anyway. Because they didn’t matter. Nothing was so important to the point of forbidding Soo-ho to pursue Si-eun; nothing was too grave to stop him from loving him so; nothing they said or did would ever matter, nothing else mattered when it came to his Si-eun, his omega, and the love he had for him.

And to know that was freeing. To know that he would cross all limits to be with Si-eun — to know his love was that strong — was liberating, and relieving. 

Si-eun’s mother had the audacity to raise her eyebrows and widen her eyes, as if she was surprised to hear it. Si-eun had introduced him as his boyfriend — more straightforward than Soo-ho could ever be — and that pretty much settled Soo-ho’s intentions from the start. He wanted to let them know, his mother most of all, that he was serious in his pursuit. He intended to court him and mate him when time was due, whether they wanted it or not. 

They were just there to tell them. It was decorum after all, his grandma would say.

“I was expecting this.” Si-eun’s mother sighed — she sighed , tired and all —, and averted her eyes for a moment, laying her hands on the table. Soo-ho narrowed his eyes at her, his nose twitching as if she was wafting acid. Then why did you act like you didn’t know. He frowned even more. Why are you disappointed? “I-“

“I give you my blessing.” 

Si-eun’s father interrupted her, looking Soo-ho deep in the eye with a knowing gaze. Soo-ho bowed slightly at him, feeling his heart palpitating like a little bomb inside him. Si-eun’s mother raised an eyebrow at her ex-husband, who looked at her with defiance. Somehow, Soo-ho thought he could understand their entire history through that exchange of stares alone; and he knew, too, that that man rarely ever challenged her. It was then that he chose to do so, as if to say — I dare you to say something different.

And for the first time, Soo-ho could see real discomfort in that woman’s face. He wasn’t sure if he had imagined it, but he smelled a faint scent of putrid pomegranate and expired honey. She felt cornered and compelled to agree to something she wasn’t in favor of. When she looked at both of them, he hoped she could see; that her words didn’t matter all that much.

“Well…” She cleaned her throat, her eyes looking down at the table and her jaw set tight. Soo-ho felt weirdly pleased to see her looking pissed off, out of place in her own territory. “If that’s what you want…” 

She didn’t get to finish. Her forced blessing was laid out like an implicit statement, dying out slowly on her tongue. She looked oddly defeated, as if she wanted to toy with them a little longer — as if her son’s feelings were hers to play with. 

But Soo-ho didn’t mind; it was over. He could finally breathe properly, knowing that he was accepted into that fragmented family core. If it was up to him, Si-eun would never suffer neglect ever again. His smiles would become all the more frequent, and he would receive affection whenever he so wished. And he had a feeling they wouldn’t be seeing much from his parents in the future.

Suddenly, Si-eun stood up, his fingers pressing on the table as support. Soo-ho looked up at him puzzled, but Si-eun didn’t return his gaze. He was staring at his parents with this bizarre smile, almost manic, like he couldn’t contain the glee inside his body; or like he was a naughty child about to prank them. Soo-ho had never seen him express something quite as indelicate, but he couldn’t say it didn’t make him feel some sort of way. He felt bubbles of excitement begin to fill his chest, some sort of magnetic reaction that his body could only associate to Si-eun.

“That’s all.” He said. He was still smiling, although less brightly. His parents just stared back at him, confused. Soo-ho didn’t get what he wanted, but he was starting to figure it out. His lips were twitching, eager to turn up as well.

“Excuse me?” His mother asked, her eyes wide in affront. Si-eun’s smile came to face her, and if Soo-ho didn’t know any better, he’d say Si-eun was telling his mother to fuck off. 

“Thank you so much for giving us your blessing. We’re heading out now.”

Soo-ho lifted his hand to scratch his nose in an attempt to hide his smile. His omega was cheeky, wasn’t he?

“W-What? But we made a reservation-”

“This is your favorite restaurant, isn’t it mom?” Si-eun asked her, and she nodded, looking delightfully ashamed. “Maybe you and dad can catch up! And since I won’t be around, I’m sure you’ll be able to enjoy your cake just fine.”

Ouch. She totally had it coming. 

Si-eun turned to look at him and extended his hand. Soo-ho didn’t hesitate at all to grab it and get up, his smile matching his boyfriend’s — it still felt weird to say it, but it was so, so good.

“C’mon, let’s tell grandma the news.” Si-eun told him, and how could Soo-ho deny such an inviting request? Grandma would be thrilled to know that Soo-ho was officially courting his beloved — and with her help, no less. 

“Wait-” Si-eun’s father tried to interfere, to no avail. 

“Si-eun!” His mother was revolted, vexed in every way. 

Si-eun looked so light on his feet, his hand was so soft against Soo-ho’s. They both couldn’t care less.

“Let’s go!” 

Hand in hand, they left the restaurant, running into the streets. The sky was gray, and faint raindrops were falling, their touch soft and comforting on their clothes, blending into their skin. Even with the wet ground threatening to make them stumble, Si-eun didn’t stop running. The cold wind made their hair sway and it felt like freedom flapping its wings against their faces. Soo-ho had never felt so good in his entire life.

When they finally stopped running, they were a good three quarters away from the restaurant, away from the prying eyes of Si-eun’s mother and the empty gaze of Si-eun’s father. When they arrived at their destination, Grandma would be expecting them with open arms, warm blankets and delicious food. 

But before that, Soo-ho had something very important to say.

“Si-eun-ah.” He pulled Si-eun by the hand until the boy was facing him. He looked happy and relaxed, outworldly beautiful, and Soo-ho couldn’t be more sure of his next words. “I love you.”

Si-eun’s cheeks, despite the wetness of the rain, warmed up immediately once the words settled. They were starting to hurt from smiling, and he averted his eyes to their joined hands, feeling like the world was theirs to conquer. He couldn’t manage an answer quite so quickly, but he hoped that his smile and his breathy laugh would tell Soo-ho just how much it meant to him to hear those words — because, for once, they were true. 

“So… Do you love me back?” Soo-ho laughed softly, as if they were speaking their own language. 

Si-eun laughed, shaking his head fondly. As if he didn’t know. As if he couldn’t possibly know.

In the end, he nodded. “Hm.”

Soo-ho felt his heart soar. It didn’t matter that the sky was gray and crying — he felt like he had the sun in his arms.

“Was that a yes?” He didn’t miss the chance to tease him, and they were back to the start. 

But this time, Si-eun made sure he knew.

“Yes.” He pecked him on the lips. As if you didn’t know. “Yes, I love you too.”