Archive of Our Own

If you took how much time Geonhak spent thinking about Seoho into consideration, it wasn’t all that surprising that Seoho was already on his mind when he texted Geonhak. He was too well-schooled to react to the sheer delight he felt at the sight of Seoho’s contact name when he swiped his phone open to check the message, grateful he was simply standing by the door rather than an active participant in the negotiations. In any number of other situations he would have had to wait, his phone burning a hole in his pocket as his mind went wild with hope that it was him.

Boots: meet me at this address at 4pm on tuesday

Geonhak felt a rush of heat prickle under his skin. Grateful for their family custom of wearing scent blockers in public, he ignored it and slid his phone back into the inner pocket of his suit coat. This was an important dinner meeting. Participant or not, he shouldn’t be distracted by thoughts of all the ways Seoho had promised to tie him up.

And yet.

Geonhak had never really understood the fuss about sex. It did the job of sating an urge, but romance stories or erotica had always felt fantastical and exaggerated. Sex was fine. Solidly just fine. At best, it was about as satisfying as jerking off with the added complication of another person thrown into the mix. That had been his firm opinion until he started having it with alphas.

Until Seoho.

That sounded romantic. Soulmate romantic, even, which didn’t really fit the relationship they had, where Seoho needled him until he couldn’t keep his hands off and then teased him for enjoying it. They were less Love At First Scent and more Risk Aware Consensual Kink.

At least, Geonhak tried to be—once he’d done some research on how to do scenes properly—but Seoho was impulsive and far more experienced than he was. He swung wildly from one interest to another, thrilled with Geonhak’s general acceptance and willingness to play within the space they’d created. Which was why Geonhak wasn’t all that surprised, once he’d left the meeting he’d registered shockingly little information about, to find that the address belonged to a bathhouse.

They usually met in hotels, penthouse suites with a windowed view of the city that Seoho easily cajoled Geonhak into fucking him against. Somewhere neutral with the faint smell of cleaning products in the air and staff accustomed to receiving bribes. They’d fill the room with the whirling storm of their combined scents and leave with the battle scars of their fierce passion; long, red lines raked down Geonhak’s back and a treasure map trail of hickeys from Seoho’s neck down his chest to his thighs, clustering in all of Geonhak’s favorite places. 

To say nothing of when Seoho brought along a flogger.

Their excursions into kink had gone well as a general rule, often very well (Seoho handcuffing Geonhak’s hands behind his back and putting him on his knees with his legs spread; digging the heel of his boot into Geonhak’s knot with nothing but his boxer briefs between them; a wet patch where his cock leaked; the sharp, gut-punched noises it tore out of him; sweat dripping down his chest, its salty smell mingling with lemons in his nose—) with a few minor exceptions that felt more like harmless mishaps than anything disastrous. The time Seoho had learned exactly how ticklish Geonhak was when he tried to tease him with a feather while Geonhak was blindfolded and ended up sending him into an uncontrollable fit of decidedly unsexy giggles came to mind.

Given everything he knew already, exhibitionism was far from a surprise. Not with the way Seoho would hiss in his ear when Geonhak took him against a window, asking him if he thought anyone could see; if they enjoyed watching him fuck Seoho so much they wished they had a closer view. 

Foolishly, (given the circles they moved in) as well as contrary to everything his family had fruitlessly tried to instill in him, Seoho liked to be noticed. Even alone with Geonhak, Seoho posed. He arched his back or watched himself in mirrors. He asked Geonhak if he liked looking at Seoho as though the answer wasn’t painfully obvious. How much of his pleasure was a performance was impossible to judge, so mostly Geonhak tried not to dwell on it.

With all of that in mind, a bathhouse with an expectation of public sex made sense.


Sorting out why Seoho had picked a day so far in advance was the real puzzle to solve.

~

As always, Geonhak arrived early.

He figured they would go in together, considering that Seoho had wanted to “meet” rather than simply “attend around the same time and maybe say hi if we run into each other”.

Geonhak waited alone in the lobby until the desk clerk’s scent went dry, unimpressed with what they undoubtedly perceived as hesitation. He glanced at his lockscreen and grimaced at the 4:15 that shone rudely back at him. Seoho wouldn’t prank him by sending him here alone, would he? As much as Seoho enjoyed busting his balls (not literally. Yet.) he did also seem to like Geonhak at least a little. Geonhak couldn’t imagine another reason why else he’d keep arranging times for them to meet considering they never talked business and Seoho had never slipped any trackers on him. At least, nothing Geonhak’s tech could detect. Even when they talked before or after sex, they talked about other things. Food they liked and movies they hated and dumb things they’d done as teenagers.

Maybe Seoho got there first. Sure, it had never happened before, but Seoho was full of surprises. Geonhak suspected that he tried to be, spending his free time gleefully brainstorming ways to be unexpected.

Trying to pretend his hope was surety, Geonhak approached the front desk and pulled out his wallet to pay the entrance fee.

“It’s 15% off tonight if you have a university ID.”

“I don’t, but thanks.”

The desk attendant gave Geonhak a subtle once-over, then shrugged as if to say, suit yourself. Geonhak couldn’t blame them. In his casual zip up hoodie and sweats he probably looked like a jock on an athletics scholarship.

Holding onto his fake ID—Geonhak wasn’t stupid—the attendant passed over a locker key, a folded towel, and three condoms. Geonhak only just managed to hold back the impulse to say he didn’t need the condoms. They didn't use condoms anymore, not since Seoho had texted him a photo of his STI screening results with the simple-but-effective caption: get tested and i'll let you fuck me bareback. He doubted the desk attendant would’ve believed he only planned to play with one person even if he’d shown them the text. If anything, it would be a fast track strategy to get the fake ID sent around to all the related clubs in the city, warning them of a rule-breaking alpha.


He caught Seoho’s scent in the locker room. At first it was so faint he thought he’d imagined it, the sharp bite of lemons barely noticeable. Then Geonhak closed his eyes and could pick out the subtler fresh herbal base that made up the majority of Seoho’s scent. Why hadn’t Seoho texted him to let him know he’d arrived early?

Maybe it hadn’t occurred to him, or maybe the red sign on the door to the rest of the bathhouse that blared NO CELL PHONES BEYOND THIS POINT in bold lettering was the simple, obvious answer.

Geonhak stripped out of his clothes and folded them small enough to fit into the locker. He’d waited a few hours to answer the invitation text that Seoho had sent him, trying to figure out if his tattoos prevented him from being anonymous in an establishment meant for anonymous sex. In the end he’d decided that he was probably not the only alpha man with tattooed black wings bursting from his shoulder blades, even if the wings ran down his arms rather than his back the way most people’s did. And if anyone was close enough to the Kim leadership to recognize the rest of the dense collection that was usually hidden under his clothes, well, they couldn’t say anything about it without admitting where they themselves had been.

He’d showered before leaving his apartment, because Seoho hated few things as much as he hated Geonhak’s scent blockers, but he showered again as a gesture of good will. He tied the towel around his waist and slipped the spiral wristband his locker key dangled from onto his left wrist. Not that it really mattered, since the only person he planned on sleeping with already knew his general preferences in regards to topping and bottoming. Still, it felt somehow polite to do his full part where customs were concerned. 

No one had come in or out of the door leading to the main bathhouse during his preparations, so Geonhak didn’t feel too self-conscious by standing right in front of it and taking a moment to collect himself. He knew a little of what to expect, but he also knew better than to imagine that his internet study would prepare him for everything that went on behind the black metal door. Above the sign prohibiting phone use was another warning: Dim light ahead, ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

No wonder Lee Seoho, theoretical heir of the Lee gang, was comfortable showing everything here: anonymity was the guiding principle of the entire establishment. That bolstered Geonhak’s spirits a little, soothing the parts of him still fearing this was a trap of some kind. If the Lees wanted to kill him, they wouldn’t do it this elaborately. With that cold comfort in mind, Geonhak took hold of the handle and pulled open the door.

He was assaulted with the thick smell of sex and desire the moment he stepped from the locker room into the darkrooms. Hundreds of people of all dynamics had been through this hallway, satisfying their urges in the arms of an unknown stranger. It should be disgusting, should smell stale and overly obscene, but he found himself more aroused by it than he had expected. How many of the people here had felt desire so strongly they could taste it on the back of their tongue the moment they walked into this strange new land, just the way that he had?

Geonhak pressed through the hallway, doing his best not to touch anyone as he brushed past. His care wasn’t shared; hands touched his arms, his chest, his waist. Either for balance as they were unexpectedly jostled or a lingering caress that begged for his attention.

Seoho had to be somewhere else. They’d never find each other in this maze of hallways and bodies, the dim ambient light from the exit signs tracing the suggestion of form and movement. His nose was overwhelmed, unable to pick any particulars out of the stifling smell of want and satisfaction winding so tightly around each other they were nearly one and the same.

He kept going, following a hazy glow he half-believed he was imagining right until he was faced with a doorway and a curtain not-quite-closed, the bright slice of light a knife against his eyes’ attempt to adjust to the darkness.

He slipped through the curtain, stepping aside to avoid blocking the doorway while he squinted against the new brightness. This was the baths area, a few deep hot tubs set into brightly tiled floors. There was a sunroof that sent light glittering across the top of the bubbling water, and a bar area off to his right. Most unexpected was the low, companionable murmur of conversation that nearly blended with the sound of the jets. Not quite what he’d been expecting. Geonhak blinked around the room, catching more than one appreciative eye as he looked for Seoho. No sex happening here, though you wouldn’t have known it from the sounds that bled in from the hallways. Or how the men in the tubs were all naked, many of them caressing each other’s thighs or chests, some of them kissing.

Geonhak inhaled deeply, his attention tuned toward untangling Seoho’s scent from the inescapable perfume of sex. It was stronger here, outside of the maze of crowded desire, and he was almost certain he would be able to follow it right to him. Seoho’s arousal was well-known to him by now, spicy and sunny all at once. Geonhak crossed the main room, scenting the air near the hallways. It was strong near the second one, like Seoho had rubbed his wrist on the corner of the wall. Geonhak closed his eyes to savor it for a moment before he continued. The corner prevented him from seeing where this hallway would spit him out, but the air felt heavy with condensation and warmth.

It wasn’t until Geonhak opened the misty glass door just around the corner that he heard Seoho. High, breathy, rhythmic cries that given the chance, Geonhak would’ve recognized earlier, given how much time he’d spent trying to make them happen. It was the sound of Seoho being fucked, maybe edged, and that preliminary knowledge softened the blow enough that Geonhak was hardly surprised at all when he stepped into a steam room to find Seoho on his knees on one of the teakwood benches, an omega thrusting into him while a beta jerked themselves off right next to his face.

His eyes were closed, his mouth hanging open. The ends of his hair curled in hot, humid air that was as thick with the smell of his pleasure as it was with steam. He’d put his wristband around his right ankle, the dangling key dancing when he was shoved forward by each thrust.

(“It’s fun to get fucked by omegas,” Seoho had told him once. “Their average size makes them easy to take and their refractory period means they can just keep going, and going, and going…”

Geonhak had assumed he was hinting at something and rolled back on top of him, coaxing the laughter right out of him with the fingers he slipped back into his hole.)

Geonhak’s first thought was fear; that Seoho had meant for him to see this because they were breaking up. But that didn’t make sense, since you couldn’t break up with someone you were never dating in the first place. Besides, Seoho was only careless, not callous. He just found people’s reactions to his behavior amusing. Was that why? Trying to get a particular reaction from Geonhak?

Or had he just been bored?

As his immediate response to what he was seeing was attempting to pick apart Seoho’s motivations, Geonhak figured it must not bother him very much. He took a closer inventory of his own feelings and found the initial assessment held true. There was that thick heat that Seoho liked to bring out of him; the simmering humiliation that made him want to prove himself. There was a fascination, keenly aware that he’d never seen Seoho during sex from this vantage point before, from the tight grip he had on the edges of the bench to the way his asscheeks bounced when the omega’s hips slapped against them. And finally some annoyance— not directed at Seoho the way he had anticipated, but at the omega. Seoho’s cock swung with each thrust, hanging heavily between his legs, and yet the omega had done nothing for him. Why would he, in a place like this? Seoho was apparently just a means to an end, a tight, wet hole for him to enjoy. A pretty face to get cum on.

Geonhak imagined approaching the trio, sinking to his knees so that he could reach under Seoho and grip him just the way he liked, massaging his knot until he came so hard he lost his breath. 

It was a good thought, sweeping away some of the hesitancy that his introspection had left behind, but he wasn’t about to give the omega the satisfaction. Geonhak wanted Seoho to come with him, clenching around his knot and laughing at his own sensitivity. Maybe Seoho didn’t want that, though. Maybe Geonhak was just meant to watch, his feelings boiling over until the worry that he wasn’t good enough for Seoho threatened to choke him.

Geonhak realized belatedly that loitering in the doorway probably wasn’t the smoothest move and stepped into the steam room. The steam was warm in his lungs, as warm as the blush of humiliation that made his ears feel hot. He sat down on the bench opposite Seoho and watched him.

In all the time they’d been sleeping together, he’d tried hard not to think about the fact that Seoho undoubtedly had more sexual partners than just him, if only because there wasn’t any point in it. He could let himself wallow in the certainty of it, sinking down deep into the inevitable jealousy, but what would that do beyond tainting the small, fleet-footed hours where he had Seoho to himself? No, it was better to excise the knowledge from his mind and live firmly rooted in the compartmentalized present, appreciating that Seoho’s time was as preciously limited as his own for reasons that weren’t his business.

It had worked perfectly until now, with Seoho flaunting his sexual freedom right in front of Geonhak’s face.

It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it should. He’d expected it would if he'd even heard any details. Now he was seeing it, and most of what he felt was piercing, poignant interest.

Geonhak had wondered on occasion if he was like this because he hadn’t known. If, had he realized earlier that his interests lay with alphas, he would’ve been more… vanilla. If he wasn’t the son of a mob boss—if he was someone well-adjusted —maybe it wouldn’t get him off to see the only man he was interested in taking to bed getting fucked by someone else.

Probably not.

That wouldn’t even be the same person anymore, and it was the kind of pointless hypothetical that did nothing for what he really wondered: if Seoho had known, all along, that this would make Geonhak want him so badly it felt like his desire was going to rip open his heart. And if that was the case, how had he known something that Geonhak had never known about himself?

It wasn’t even jealousy. How could it be, when neither of the two people using Seoho for their own pleasure had done anything for his own beyond what was collateral to their actions? Though Geonhak burned, flustered by his own speculations, (had this happened because he’d waited in the lobby? Did Seoho get tired of waiting for him and decide to fuck the first person that caught his eye?) he wasn’t jealous. He could fuck Seoho better than random strangers. He knew how to pull satisfaction out of Seoho’s body, how to leave him a loose-limbed puddle, panting too hard to giggle the way he wanted to.

Or he’d thought he had. Maybe Seoho had been laughing at him, at his clumsy attempts to bring Seoho half the enjoyment that Geonhak found in his touch.

Geonhak’s breath quickened. He licked his lips. His cock throbbed. Seoho might not even know he was watching, too caught up in the way the omega’s cock drove into him, pushing out such sweet little gasps. The beta’s hand sped up on his cock and Seoho’s eyes fluttered open. Geonhak couldn’t breathe, his chest was too full of his need for Seoho to see him, to notice him. Seoho lunged forward, taking the beta’s tip into his mouth and whining when the omega pulled him back onto his cock, away from his prize.

Let me, Geonhak silently pleaded, as hungry for his attention as he was for his touch. I can be better. Let me please you.

But Seoho’s eyes had already closed. A lucky thing, too, since the beta let out a long moan and came all over his cheek. Geonhak’s hands twitched, feeling useless. Seoho didn’t care for facials.

(“After I spent a half hour on my makeup? You may as well jizz on the concept of time itself.” he’d told Geonhak scornfully when the subject had come up tangentially to their discussion on whether they preferred to swallow or not.)

The beta’s cum ran down his jaw and dripped onto the bench. Geonhak imagined he could hear it, the thick plop as it struck the wood. Geonhak burned. Seoho had pulled off early once, letting Geonhak stripe over his lips. Just once, and only for a moment before he sucked Geonhak’s cock back into his mouth. That was his decision, he’d said, and cheerfully warned Geonhak not to take any liberties just because he treated him to a good show.

Maybe that was a restriction that was only for Geonhak. Or maybe Seoho didn’t bother telling people he would only know for minutes everything that he’d discussed with Geonhak over the course of weeks.

Seoho’s head dropped down, curling into himself with his forehead pressed to his forearms, and he let out a long, low groan. He was getting close, assuming he hadn’t been close for some time. Geonhak could see it in the way the muscles in his arms tensed in cycles before shuddering and going lax once more; in the way his toes curled; the way he shoved back into each thrust.

He was begging, the sound of his voice muffled from the way he was curled into himself.

“Please, please, please.” fell from his lips, the words torn through by his desperation. He didn’t beg with Geonhak, but Geonhak was a pushover, anyway. With him, Seoho never needed to beg to be allowed pleasure.

His fingers, nails smartly painted a matte black, crawled up the bench to find the edge of it again for something to subject to his white-knuckled grip. He was so, so close.

The omega didn’t let him have it.

Geonhak couldn’t decide if he was viciously pleased by that or offended on Seoho’s behalf that they hadn’t given in to his beautiful, frenzied pleas. They shoved in hard, Seoho’s back arched, and the long whine that stuttered with their sharp breaths was unmistakable.

Seoho's body was still drawn tight, his back tense with muscle.

The omega pulled out and let out a weak chuckle. They patted him amiably on the hip, picked up their discarded towel, and walked off.

Seoho was shaking a little. He let out a long, frustrated breath and his knees folded under him. He let his hands flop over the edge of the bench and his back slumped into a long, languid line. It occurred to Geonhak as he watched Seoho sink down in his dissatisfaction, that the omega might not have been the first person to neglect his needs while they used him. Now, without anyone around him to distract Seoho, Geonhak let himself rise up from his seat. His hard cock brushed the towel and he bit his lip against the sound that flew up into his mouth. It felt somehow amateurish to be so affected, here in front of a previously unnoticed alpha on Geonhak’s bench and a passing beta in the hall.

Geonhak stepped in close enough to touch him, laying his hand flat on Seoho’s hips. Seoho hummed and leaned up into the touch, catlike. Sliding his hand up his back, Geonhak curled it loosely around the nape of his neck until his thumb brushed one of the scent glands on the side of his throat. A spicy herbal burst flooded the room. A reaction to Geonhak, or a reaction to being touched? He’d probably never know.

The relative quiet of the steam room made Geonhak lower his voice, and the inescapable knowledge that no one here knew who they were made him ask a question he already knew the answer to. 

“Can you take a knot?”

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it felt strange to broadcast an established connection in a place built on spontaneity, maybe he wanted to be as unpredictable as Seoho always was.

Seoho looked up at him, already beaming and completely ignoring the cum smeared on his own cheek. He was more adept at rolling with the punches than most people Geonhak knew. He took Geonhak in, starting at his ankles and roving upward as if he’d never seen him naked before; as if he didn’t know Geonhak’s body better than anyone on earth save Geonhak himself. He let his gaze linger on the tented towel around Geonhak's waist, on his chest and arms. Geonhak felt himself flush, which had undoubtedly been the goal all along.

“For you? I can certainly try.”

Geonhak offered him a hand up. For reasons he didn't care to examine, he didn't want to take him in the same place that the omega had. Seoho took it without question and let Geonhak heft him up.

He swayed into Geonhak’s chest, giggling at the predicament of being weak on his feet. Without thinking, Geonhak looped a steadying arm around his waist and Seoho gave him a dark look from under his lashes. He made his decision quickly and pulled Seoho toward the bench on the wall opposite the doorway, so that anyone passing by would see them when they looked in. Once they reached the bench, Seoho balked. Moments after Geonhak caught his gaze to figure out why, he felt hands on his waist. Seoho undid the towel without looking, because he was scary good at undressing Geonhak, and wrapped one hand loosely around his cock.

“Are you sure it'll fit?” he asked in a low, teasing voice. 

Geonhak rolled his eyes. Seoho never let him forget what he'd said that first night and it had long since stopped being funny. Rather than validate it with any further reaction, he took the towel from Seoho and carefully, gently used one corner to wipe the cum off of his face. Seoho beamed, his eyes shining, and he gave Geonhak a little shove.

Seoho climbed into his lap as soon as Geonhak sat down, and the situation, for all its newness, slid into something familiar. The dig of Seoho's piercing into his own lips when he kissed him hard and full of teeth; the way even his breaths sounded mirthy, as if he was about to start laughing; the way he palmed Geonhak's chest, digging his fingers into the muscle and thumbing over his nipples. From the moment he’d first gotten Geonhak’s shirt off, it was clear that Seoho loved his chest. And to a lesser extent his shoulders— at least, only lesser until Geonhak picked him up to fuck him against a wall and Seoho had nothing else to grab hold of that wasn't his face or his hair.

“Your knees okay?” Geonhak murmured against his lips. They were reddened, but so were his cheeks.

Seoho laughed. “I'm fine. Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

“Be patient.”

Arousal thrummed like a live wire just under Geonhak's skin. His cock lay heavily against his stomach, his nipples peaked from Seoho's pinching fingers. Even when he drew away, all he could smell was how turned on Seoho was. That made sense, though, since Seoho's cock was hard and hot, flushed dark, and leaking from the orgasm torn out of his reach.

Geonhak snuck a hand between Seoho's spread thighs and discovered he was slick with lube from his balls to his hole. Seoho preened at the experimental touch. His back arched and his hands settled on Geonhak's shoulders, then dug in when Geonhak swiped the pads of his fingers over Seoho's hole. He pulled at Seoho's rim and fought back a groan at the easy surrender in Seoho's body, the give in him that yielded more readily to Geonhak's touch than usual. He wasn't just stretched and prepped, he was fucked open for Geonhak.

Geonhak gave into temptation and slid three fingers into him without any resistance, muffling the sound it dragged out of him by tucking his face into the crook of Seoho's neck.

Seoho giggled and leaned his weight back, urging Geonhak in deeper. It felt like laughing at him, at his utter inability to be anything but awed by Seoho, and he couldn't let that stand.

“I always heard alphas were supposed to be tight.”

Seoho let out his breath in annoyed huff, rocking back into Geonhak’s touch. “Should’ve gotten here earlier.”

Geonhak hooked his fingers in and tugged. Seoho whined at the sudden pressure on his prostate and jolted closer, his legs spasming. His cock leaked, dripping precum onto Geonhak's lap. Relentlessly stroking inside him had him trembling, but Seoho never gave up without a fight. He reached down and took Geonhak in hand. The dry tug was equally as frustrating as it was tantalizing, and Geonhak hissed.

“You’re so thick,” Seoho purred, then giggled when the cliche made Geonhak groan in embarrassment. It could’ve been a flattering thing to hear from a stranger, but they weren’t. Geonhak knew him well enough to recognize the impish humor shining in Seoho’s eyes, and Seoho knew that Geonhak would find it mortifying. Geonhak thrust hard against Seoho’s prostate in retaliation and Seoho’s eyes rolled back.

“Get me ready.”

Fumbling through the way his muscles jerked every time Geonhak curled his fingers just right, Seoho grabbed for his towel. He pulled one of the condoms out of the little pocket sewn into it and the rip of the foil wrapper was loud and mechanical against the ambient noises of pleasure that echoed down the hall. He swayed in close again, biting at Geonhak’s lips while he rolled the condom onto his cock and gave it an experimental stroke. Geonhak teased a fourth finger along his hole and Seoho whined into his mouth. He reached past Geonhak, blindly pawing along the ledge for one of the large bottles of lube. He pumped too much into his hand, something Geonhak only discovered when Seoho stroked him again, lube squelching out between his fingers and sliding down the insides of Geonhak’s thighs.

Geonhak slipped his hand free and gave Seoho a pat on the thigh. “Turn around. Let's show everyone how nicely I'll treat you.”

Seoho didn’t talk back. Here, pretending to be someone who didn’t know Geonhak, he just did whatever was asked of him. It was so new that Geonhak wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Seoho braced his hands on Geonhak's knees and his back dipped, presenting his hole. Geonhak palmed one cheek, taking a moment to squeeze it before he dipped his thumb inside Seoho's body and felt a tidal wave of lust. Something deep in the marrow of his bones wanted Seoho so badly it made him feel crazy; made him feel incomplete whenever he was aroused and Seoho wasn't there.

With newly awoken need flooding over him, he wouldn't have been able to tease if he'd wanted to. Geonhak tapped his cock against Seoho's hole once in warning, then easily pushed inside. They let out twin sighs of happiness and Seoho sank back as far as Geonhak let him, huffing out another annoyed breath when he was held in place, halfway seated on Geonhak's cock. 

Geonhak wanted to take him so well that no one here felt capable of following his performance, but he wouldn't have another opportunity to see this. He traced his thumb along the join between their bodies. Seoho's pinked rim, lube-shiny and used, twitched under his touch, spasming around his cock.

“Relax, gorgeous,” Geonhak murmured, smirking at how reactive Seoho's body was. “No need to waste time putting my fingers in alongside my cock when I'm going to knot you, right?”

“Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”

“With an attitude like that, one of these days someone's gonna end up spanking you.”

“Promise?”

Geonhak snorted. He let go of Seoho’s hip and Seoho sat back into his lap, his hole tight around the base of Geonhak's cock. It was that ease that finally let jealousy’s acidic burn slosh through Geonhak. Usually he was the one who had fucked or fingered Seoho to the point that it was hardly an effort at all to get Geonhak’s cock inside him. 

Had they even fingered him? Or could an omega work Seoho open around their cock in a way that he never could? The mental image dazed Geonhak with envy. On the other hand, maybe Seoho wasn’t as snug a fuck for an omega as he was for Geonhak. If that was the case, they were the ones who should be envious of him. It amazed him every time, the way it felt like their bodies just barely allowed this. Nose pressed to the slope of Seoho's shoulder, where he could still breathe in his dizzying scent, Geonhak couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly they fit together. Usually Geonhak figured his dissatisfaction with his sex life had been because he’d never slept with an alpha before. But like this, with Seoho’s thighs spread across his lap and his hole clenching right where his knot would pop, Geonhak believed with everything he had that this feeling was unique to being with Seoho.

Geonhak let Seoho try and find purchase on the bench for a moment or two, amused by his attempts to generate enough leverage to ride before he took pity on him. He spread his hand on Seoho's stomach and squeezed him back against his chest: a silent direction to stay here. He let his hands trail down, over the sharp bones of his hips and along his legs until he could hook under his knees and pull his thighs up toward his chest, tipping his center of balance backward against Geonhak. 

He felt Seoho's weak chuckle at being entirely at Geonhak’s mercy more than he heard it. Seoho's arm snaked back, his hand fisting into the hair at the crown of Geonhak's head and giving it an experimental tug. Geonhak growled, set his teeth in Seoho's shoulder, and bucked up into him. Seoho laughed, moaned, and a warm, dizzying burst of pleasure hit Geonhak's nose. He hiked Seoho more securely into his grip and gave in to the inescapable urge to fuck into him as hard and deep as his body would welcome him, as though giving in to that instinct would make it easier to resist biting to claim.

He couldn’t help but imagine what they looked like to everyone else, with Seoho's cock leaking against his own abs and his hole stretched around Geonhak; the smile he knew was playing at Seoho's pretty lips and the way his feet dangled in open air, bouncing with each thrust. Geonhak himself was mostly hidden behind Seoho's reclining body, little more than bunched muscles and a hard cock, and found he preferred it that way. He existed here, as he often did when they were alone, as an instrument for Seoho's satisfaction.

Seoho's hips struggled to cant down into Geonhak's thrusts. His hand tightened in Geonhak's hair until his jaws fell open and he snarled. 

“Harder,” Seoho giggled.

Considering he was holding Seoho up, Geonhak thought he'd been doing fairly well. He hitched Seoho up higher, giving him more room to fuck up into him.

It still wasn't hard enough. 

“And here I thought a big, strong guy like you would be able to fuck me so hard that I—”

Geonhak dropped Seoho down just as his hips snapped up to meet him.

“Oh, fuck!” Seoho moaned, sounding rapturous. “Can I come home with you?”

It meant nothing. It was part of their game, part of the fantasy that they’d never met yet knew each other’s bodies perfectly. Geonhak’s heart—exponentially disloyal the more time he spent with Seoho—responded as if it were real. Geonhak ignored the burn building in his biceps with each heft up and drop down and gave Seoho exactly what he wanted. He wasn't capable of doing any less. The lewd slap of their damp skin rang out loud against the tile, almost too loud to hear Seoho's happy curses beneath it.

Geonhak knew they were being watched. It was inevitable, since that was the whole point of being here at all. He didn't have any specifics; he’d closed his eyes and all he could smell was the sticky-sweet scent of Seoho’s enjoyment. The lip of the tile on the wall dug painfully into his back, but he didn't care. He couldn't care, not when Seoho was so perfectly hot around him each time he drove in; when even after being fucked open there was that dazzling edge of friction to moving inside him that Geonhak had never felt before that night in the leather club. Molten, animalistic hunger boiled in his stomach, made him growl and find an unmarked spot on Seoho's shoulder to bite. He wanted them—their unseen audience—to know that Seoho was his. That for however briefly he had him, he had him completely. No one else here had made Seoho boneless, all of his weight gone limp as he lay back and trusted Geonhak's hold. No one here knew exactly how to fuck him to make him whine and sigh and laugh. They'd never watched him play at tender, fascinated cruelty the way he did when his boot bit into Geonhak's cock, or when he wrapped his hands around Geonhak's throat until his head filled with cotton and Seoho, Seoho, Seoho.

To the others, all the manhandling could seem like Geonhak was just using Seoho as a fucktoy. Maybe Seoho thought that, too. But it wasn't the truth; not when Geonhak was doing it out of wild desperation to please. The truth was that he was submerged in Seoho, drowning in him. Lost at sea and searching for any sort of certainty to take hold of.

He was more grateful for the omega having edged Seoho than he expected, because he was already close. The only reason he hadn't spilled already was because of the unexpectedly helpful barrier of the condom, thin though it was. Could Seoho smell it on him the way he could smell the delirious tension in Seoho's body? He had to be able to feel it in the catch of his rim on Geonhak's knot as it began to fatten.

Geonhak didn't have any free hands to usher Seoho along, but Seoho's promise from that first night about not letting Geonhak knot him if he didn't make him come first was always present in his mind. Today, there was only one option: “Touch yourself.”

Immediately he felt the shifting weight as Seoho's hand flew over his cock. Seoho’s head tipped back, not quite resting on Geonhak’s shoulder. But now his mouth was so near that Geonhak could hear the catch in his breath as he spun up toward the edge, hear the tightness in his throat that matched the tension drawing through the rest of his body. He came with a cry that shattered into pieces as he shuddered, and as soon as he did, Geonhak fucked into him as deeply as he could and let go.

His cock twitched as he spilled into the condom, his mind utterly blank. Seoho clenched around his knot and Geonhak made a noise halfway between a groan and growl. Knotting Seoho was already the tightest that Geonhak had ever had, now Seoho was just being a brat. But two could play at that game.

Once he came back to himself, Geonhak nudged his nose to Seoho’s neck to check his mood. Still horny, but he’d expected that. His own voice was a low rumble, dragged deep by pleasure. “Can you come again?”

“Yes, I—!” Anything else Seoho might've said was stolen away when Geonhak circled his hips and ground his knot into him. His whine sounded thin, like it had been forced through grit teeth.

Geonhak palmed meanly over the head of Seoho's dick, his rough hand smearing the cum still beading from his slit and heedless of his oversensitivity. Seoho clenched around his knot and Geonhak's vision went white. He'd have to work quickly before he hit his usual post-knot lethargy. He kissed Seoho's shoulder, his neck, up to whisper in his ear: “Then do it.”

Seoho's voice broke when he cried out, cracked in two by the force of an orgasm so quickly on the heels of the first. Cum slicked over Geonhak's hand, easing the slide of his palm. He stilled, letting Seoho grind weakly into his hand. His cock twitched against Geonhak, leaking every time his hole clenched Geonhak’s knot. He let go when Seoho pushed at his wrist, slumped against Geonhak’s chest and still gasping.

Geonhak helped ease Seoho's legs down and wrapped his arms around Seoho's middle. He clung helplessly to him and—as it always did when he had Seoho in his arms and his cock pulsing inside him—for a brief, bittersweet moment, it felt like Seoho would be his forever.

He dragged his nose along Seoho's nape, savoring the particular sated sweetness in his scent.

“Are you gonna find someone else to fuck, or have you finally had your fill?” Geonhak wasn't sure who he was speaking as, if that was his own question or more of the bathhouse alpha he thought he should be. How different were they, in the end?

Seoho made a noise too soft to be named. He twisted in Geonhak's arms, and at first it seemed like he was trying to get away, inadvisable as it was to try and fight past a knot. He wasn't. He shifted as far sideways as he could manage, until Geonhak could see his face. He was flushed, from sex as well as the steam, his lips parted and something lingering in his eyes, broken open and unfamiliar. Geonhak didn't get a chance to ask if he was okay before Seoho's hands were in his hair and he was surging in to kiss him. He pulled Geonhak to where he needed him and claimed his mouth with so much purpose that Geonhak had to swallow down the questions that crept over his tongue: What are you trying to tell me? and the even more hypocritical, Why won't you just say it?

They kissed until Geonhak’s mouth felt bruised and they were no longer locked together. Until he noticed that there were four people in the room watching them. Until he’d almost, almost forgotten the questions that still lingered behind his teeth.

Once they’d gotten up and had their towels back around their waists, Seoho offered him a hand. His black nails shone from the steam and his smile went all the way to his eyes. Geonhak took it, and then Seoho led Geonhak back through the hallway, the room with the baths, and the darkrooms, trailing laughter behind him. Geonhak’s stomach swooped uncontrollably. They’d never truly held hands before, not like this. Not outside of sex, and usually then it was only to pin each other down.

When they got back to the locker room, Seoho turned one of the shower heads on and tugged him in close, urging Geonhak to box him in against the tile, as if he had tired of the neverending current of attention and wanted only Geonhak’s eyes on him.

“Hi,” Seoho breathed, quieter than their performance, just loud enough for Geonhak to hear it over the sound of the water.

“Hi.”

“Glad you made it.”

“Have I ever stood you up? Or even canceled on you?”

Seoho grinned and dragged him into a long, thorough kiss before he answered. “Never. It's why I'm keeping you.”

Rather than demand to know what he meant by that, Geonhak murmured, “Thanks for inviting me.” and caught his lips once more.

After sex was Geonhak's favorite time to kiss Seoho. Once their fiery intimacy began to dim with a final bright flare, Seoho kept Geonhak smoldering with nothing but his lips. He allowed a tenderness he otherwise scorned: he let Geonhak step in close enough to feel the warmth of his body; let him cup his face in both hands; let him tease at slipping his tongue into his mouth without growing impatient. Geonhak was addicted to the rush, since kissing Seoho made his stomach do backflips, and he got closest to slaking his thirst when Seoho was willing to indulge him like this. Neither of them were standing under the shower's spray, and the scattering of droplets that clung to his back chilled Geonhak's skin. But on the inside, because of his thumbs stroking over Seoho's cheeks and their lips moving together so perfectly, Geonhak was incandescent.

For all their dawdling under the water, showering didn't take that long once they really got to it. It would’ve been shorter if they used two shower heads, but Geonhak wasn’t about to suggest it. Not when Seoho seemed to enjoy dragging him around to trade who got the most of the water after they soaped up.

Their lockers were on different walls, so Geonhak didn't see Seoho until he was fully dressed. His shorts just peeking from under his oversized sweatshirt and his bare face made him seem young and unassuming. Not like a guy who had just been wrecked in front of strangers, if that sort of person even had a look.

To his disappointment, once he was dressed, Geonhak ran out of excuses to hang around with Seoho pretty quickly. He fiddled with the locker again, playing at checking to be sure it really was unlocked, but it probably had lost its strength as a stalling tactic several times ago.

“Hey, um. I'm gonna go. Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Wow, not even gonna wait with me for my ride to get here? Some gentleman you are.”

It was a joke. Seoho was smiling when he glanced up at Geonhak before his attention fell to his phone again. Probably calling the ride here, or close to here if he was trying to be a little more discreet.

It leapt out of Geonhak's mouth without a second (or arguably even a first) thought, “I'll take you, if you want.”

It hung heavily in the air like steam and his skin felt hot and sticky until Seoho smiled at him again.

“Yeah, okay.”

They dumped their towels in the hamper, then headed to the front desk in the lobby where they turned in their locker keys and collected their IDs before walking out more-or-less together. Though, if they were really together, they would've been holding hands. Geonhak remembered the feeling of Seoho squeezing tight, tugging him through the bathhouse, and had to shove his hands in his pockets. The distance between them when they were truly out in public was insurmountable; it wouldn't be of use to try to breach it.

He led Seoho to his car and was pleasantly surprised he didn't have to remind him to put on his seatbelt as soon as they got in. Geonhak tossed his hoodie to the backseat, turned the key, but as the engine hummed to life, he hesitated. He'd offered to take Seoho home, but Seoho's laughing words from the bathhouse echoed in his ears. 

“Did you forget how to drive?”

Geonhak ignored that and turned to look Seoho in the eye. “Am I taking you to your place or mine?”

Seoho's expression of careless bewilderment was immediately overtaken by a bright, eager grin. “Yours.”

Geonhak nodded and started backing out of the parking space, wondering why his heart was pounding so much that he could hear it.

Seoho fiddled with the radio until it was blaring an unfamiliar alt-rock song so loudly that it felt like his brain was jangling around in his skull. Geonhak turned down the volume.

“Are you mad at me?” Seoho asked, and Geonhak could feel the weight of his gaze.

I’m not mad at you, I just have to drive. 

Geonhak had been well trained in something approaching diplomatic affairs and knew more information was necessary before he felt comfortable offering up an answer. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because I fucked someone else before you.”

“I’m not mad about that.”

“So something else?”

Geonhak laughed. “I’m not mad about anything. Did you want me to be mad?”

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

Geonhak took advantage of a red light to glance over at Seoho, finding his attention firmly fixed out his window. Their motivations weren’t something they talked about, not outside of sex, but he couldn’t imagine having another time to ask. The thought of slowly peeling away the layers of performance and dramatic display until he’d finally revealed Seoho as he truly was intoxicated him; he couldn’t resist. The words themselves ventured out of his mouth softer than he meant to, openly curious. “What did you want?”

Seoho looked at him. Smiled. Looked away. Too much eye contact made him jittery, but his reply was smooth and casual, like he’d known all along that Geonhak would ask and had the answer ready and waiting. “I wanted you to fuck me like you owned me.”

Geonhak’s stomach swooped. His hands tightened on the wheel. He had to calm himself. He spent so much time wearing scentblockers that he’d never learned how to school his scent the way he could school his features into impassivity. All he could do was try to breathe evenly, quashing down every word that erupted up into his mouth, wanting to be said. The thought of Seoho knowing how much he’d been affected by an idle comment was far more humiliating than anything he’d seen in the bathhouse. It was a sexual fantasy; Seoho didn’t actually want to be owned in any way. Just fucked as though he was. 

It didn’t mean what Geonhak wanted it to mean.

He realized he’d been quiet for too long and offered, “You could’ve just asked.”

From the corner of his eye he watched Seoho shrug and shake his head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

He was probably right. While Geonhak would've been happy to oblige a request like that, he couldn't confirm it would've played out the same. Without the desperate need to prove himself, Geonhak doubted he would've had the balls to be as possessive as he had been. He wouldn't have flaunted his knowledge of Seoho's body in the same way, with primal instinct roaring in his veins.

Seoho had apparently saved up all of his post-scene processing questions until right now, when Geonhak couldn't look at him because he had to drive. “So you’re not mad. Did you enjoy it?”

“It was interesting," Geonhak decided. "But I liked fucking you while people watched better than I liked watching you get fucked.”

“Cool. Me too.”

Geonhak braved a glance at him. Seoho was curled up against the door with his shoes on the seat. He probably wouldn't believe Geonhak if he tried to explain he had an issue with it because of how mangled Seoho's legs would be in case of a collision and not because having his feet on someone else’s car seats was rude. Honestly, he'd just tell Geonhak to be better at driving and it would be a non-issue. 

Given an opening, Geonhak offered, “So maybe next time we don’t fuck other people? Just each other?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Really?” He couldn't help but glance at him again.

“Why do you sound so surprised when I already agreed with you?” Seoho laughed.

“Does that go for outside of the bathhouse, too?”

“Does what?”

Geonhak waited until they hit a red light to continue, so that he could watch Seoho's expression when he said, “Not fucking other people.”

Smiling, Seoho rolled his eyes. “You fuck me bareback and you think I’m fucking other people?”

Geonhak easily could’ve pointed out that he’d just seen him fucking someone else, but decided against it on the grounds that it would be somewhat inflammatory. He aimed for blandly factual instead: “I have no idea what you do when you aren’t with me.”

“Take it from a slut, if you’re gonna sleep around, safe sex is the only way to go. We don’t use protection, ergo you’re the only fuckbuddy I have.”

Geonhak was quiet the rest of the drive, silently turning over that revelation in his mind and trying to match it up with everything he thought he knew about Seoho.

~

The moment he opened the door, Seoho had slipped past Geonhak and into his apartment, already stepping out of his sandals.

“Oh, god, Geonhak, how could you?!” he exclaimed, sounding horrified.

Geonhak took a quick scan to be sure that his dirty dishes weren’t mounting an attack on his counter space. “What’s wrong?”

“Minimalism?” Seoho said the word as if it pained him to have it in his mouth.

Geonhak glanced around again, trying to see his apartment the way that Seoho saw it. He shrugged. “It’s easier to clean.”

“It looks like a motherfucking magazine, and that is not a compliment. It’s like nobody has ever lived here.”

“I am out a lot.”

“It’s like somebody got brutally murdered and you had to get rid of all the interesting decorations and furniture to hide the evidence.”

That would be funnier if Geonhak had never been on cleanup duty before. As it was, it was remarkably astute for being a joke. Assuming Seoho wasn’t speaking from his own experience.

Seoho meandered through the sitting area beside the kitchen to peer out the picture windows that made up most of the apartment’s outer walls. He stopped by the glass door to the balcony and made a soft, intrigued noise when he noticed the hot tub set into the deck. Before Geonhak could tell him he was welcome to use it, Seoho was wandering back toward Geonhak's bedroom.

He wouldn't have been able to heavily decorate his bedroom even if he’d wanted to. Three of the four walls consisted of floor to ceiling windows, and the ceiling was high. The effect was strangely magical, as if the bedroom existed in an urban treehouse that looked out across the entire city, all the way down to the waterfront. The peachy rays of the setting sun blazed in the windows of the nearby buildings and the suggestion of clouds on the horizon promised to turn into purple streaks across the darkening sky as night fell. Even if his decorating sense was somewhat stunted, there was always something to look at.

Seoho was standing right next to one of the windows when Geonhak caught up to him, his neck craned upward as his gaze traced up the skyscrapers reaching for the heavens. There was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He was charmed.

“Have you changed your mind on minimalism?” Geonhak asked him, leaning on the doorframe. 

“It's okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Now, this I can get behind,” Seoho said, turned on his heel, and launched himself onto the bed on his stomach. The comforter sunk around him, rumpling all the bedclothes with his weight. The golden light of the early evening stroked along his face, lighting up the frizzy strands of his air-dried hair until he looked golden, too. Geonhak followed the light, tracing down the folds of his sweater to his shorts riding up on his thighs, the turn of his calves into the jut of ankles, all the way down to the arches of his feet. It was a bizarre feeling, to be jealous of light.

“This is an amazing view you’ve got.”

And Geonhak said, “Yeah.” before he realized Seoho meant the one out the window.

Seoho gave him a sly look over his shoulder and his scent slid from contentment into something warm and intrigued.

“Again?” he asked, too interested himself to make it a true tease.

Wasn't that why Seoho had wanted to come back to his place?

“If you want.”

“Well, with an argument like that, how could I possibly resist being convinced?”

Seoho was making fun of him, and the only thing to do about it was let out a long, comically aggrieved breath, then pounce on him. Seoho was, as Geonhak should’ve expected, completely prepared. He half-rolled away, his knees knocking painfully into Geonhak’s thighs, but that seemed like an occupational hazard. Seoho laughed in his face, wriggling out of his arms and tweaking his ear for good measure. He got onto his hands and knees on the opposite side of the bed, ready to make his escape. His eyes glittered, and it wasn’t I don’t want this, they had a safeword for that. No, the wild daring in his gaze was much more playful: catch me if you can.

Geonhak lunged, and knew it was only because of luck that he managed to grab Seoho’s ankle.

They wrestled until the bedclothes were a mess underneath them, until Seoho’s cheeks were flushed and he couldn’t stop giggling. It was infectious enough that Geonhak couldn’t fight it, bubbling laughter and the light, sunny smell of giddy delight filling the room.

He hadn’t wrestled with an alpha in years. Since boyhood, maybe. And never so joyfully, appreciating the unexpected strength in Seoho’s limbs and laughing harder when he thwarted all of Geonhak’s attempts to subdue him. Seoho was quick, but mostly he was crafty. If Geonhak tried to wrap his legs around Seoho’s, Seoho would twist and squirm away. If Geonhak tried to roll them over, Seoho would go limp at exactly the right time, the dead weight of his body an unexpected burden that would buy him enough time to dig his fingers into Geonhak’s ribs and use his ticklish nature against him.

“Do you ever slow down?” Geonhak asked him, grinning as he swiped at his wrists.

“Not unless someone makes me,” Seoho proclaimed boldly, so caught up in his own pride that he let down his guard enough for Geonhak to find an opening. Geonhak rolled them over, finally managing to grab Seoho’s flailing wrists and pin them above his head.

Seoho stared up at him, his chest heaving from their tussle. His hair splayed out under him, staticky enough that it should have been funny, but Geonhak couldn’t laugh when Seoho looked so comfortable and right, like he belonged on Geonhak’s bed.

Dangerous thoughts.

So Geonhak ignored them. Instead he focused on his dark eyes, on the arousal in his scent. He squeezed his hands around Seoho’s wrists and Seoho didn’t so much as twitch, completely content to be at Geonhak’s mercy. Geonhak licked his lips. Seoho’s eyes darted down, just for a moment, and Geonhak felt need race through his veins.

“Don’t move,” he told him. “If you move, I stop touching you.”

“Not that I don’t like the sound of that,” Seoho began, sucking at his lip ring for a moment before he continued, his lower lip so red and wet. “But personally I don’t find arms to be an erogenous zone.”

Geonhak arranged him until one wrist was crossed over the other and pinned them down one-handed. He let the fingertips of his free hand caress down Seoho’s cheek to his mouth, running his thumb back and forth over the lower lip, dragging his piercing until it just began to tug at his lip.

“Better?” he asked, his own voice huskier than he expected. Rough with want, because wanting Seoho was like sandpaper on the well-oiled machine of the life he had planned for himself.

Seoho nodded, so there was nothing else to do but kiss him.

Usually during foreplay, Seoho kissed the way he rode Geonhak: merciless and greedy. Now he was formless, uncertain. Shy. It was only once he'd eased Seoho's jaw open and licked over his teeth with only the barest, questing touch from Seoho's tongue in return that he realized Seoho didn’t know whether he was allowed to kiss back. Mesmerized by the power he held, Geonhak lingered until he’d coaxed Seoho into kissing back, and then a little longer.

When Geonhak sat up to pull off his shirt (Seoho did like his chest, after all) he was immediately overwhelmed by the sight of Seoho underneath him, hands obediently above his head and hair fuzzing across his pillowcase, undoubtedly leaving his scent all over Geonhak’s sheets.

He shouldn’t have invited him into his home. 

He invaded every aspect of Geonhak’s existence enough as it was. And now he was half-bare, too vulnerable when contrasted with Seoho still clothed. Geonhak remembered that first night, in the bathroom of the club, when Seoho had seemed so powerful, so perfectly in control of the situation even when he was nearly naked.

He saw the solution laying on his nightstand and leaned over to reach them without getting off of Seoho’s hips. He sat back and pulled on the leather driving gloves he hadn’t used since spring really took flight. As if that thin barrier would make any difference at all; as if covering his own hands could protect him from the fact that Seoho had left his fingerprints all over Geonhak’s life.

With one hand back to pinning his wrists and his palm cradling Seoho’s chin, he pinched Seoho’s cheeks between thumb and forefinger. He dug his fingers in under his high cheekbones, until he could feel the press of his teeth through his cheeks, until Seoho had no choice but to let Geonhak guide his jaw open. His lips were reddened from their kissing, his tongue was lax, and his mouth shone with spit. Geonhak let go, pleased to see that Seoho kept his mouth open. He hooked his thumb in the lower row of Seoho’s teeth and pulled it further open. He could feel the heat of Seoho’s mouth even through the leather, scorching and wet, and couldn’t resist a fond swipe over his lower lip as he drew out his thumb and replaced it with two fingers. Seoho blinked at him, pupils blown wide with the thick arousal that filled the room with the smell of summer. 

“Are you going to keep being this good for me?” Geonhak wondered aloud. Wondered if he meant it for now or some distant, hoped-for future.

Mouth occupied, Seoho smiled with his eyes before closing his teeth on Geonhak’s fingers. Not biting, really. Just sending the message that he couldn’t be tamed. As if Geonhak didn’t know that already.

“Keep that up and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.”

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Geonhak could never resist a chance to get his hands on Seoho.

Seoho let his jaw fall open once more and Geonhak drew circles on his tongue, watching his gloved fingertips begin to glisten with saliva. He pushed back further, until Seoho's eyelids fluttered. Even like this, his mouth held obscenely open, there was no ignoring it: Seoho was pretty.

Geonhak had told him so before, and Seoho had given him a look like he knew as well as Geonhak did that it was a strange thing for an alpha to tell another alpha. But Seoho had only smirked and asked what he liked best, and then got stuck in a fit of laughter at how flustered it made Geonhak to even think about expressing.

Geonhak pulled his hand free and felt a zap of gratification when Seoho kept his mouth open. He nudged his thumb up under his jaw, easing it closed so that he could duck down and nuzzle at his throat. Seoho’s head lolled back, as if all his muscles were jelly under the slight pressure of Geonhak’s hands. Geonhak buried his face in Seoho’s neck, nosing along his scent gland. He smelled aroused, but more importantly he smelled interested. Curious. Geonhak gave him a firm lick and was pleased at the shaky exhale it drew from Seoho’s parted lips.

Satisfied with his results so far, Geonhak slid down Seoho’s body, feeling him up as he went. He pushed Seoho’s sweatshirt up as he moved down, baring his strong chest. He pinched one nipple between two fingers and took the other between his lips, tracing over it with the tip of his tongue. Seoho’s breath went thin, his nipples hardening under Geonhak’s touch. The instant he set his teeth in, Seoho gasped, back arching up off the bed and pressing into Geonhak’s mouth. Ignoring his own clamoring need to touch, Geonhak sat up and raised one brow at him.

“I told you not to move.”

“Asshole,” Seoho breathed, looking dazed.

Geonhak only laughed, dipping down to briefly capture his lips. He pulled back just far enough to speak, lips brushing Seoho’s with each word. “Be good for me and I’ll make it good for you.”

Seoho exhaled, his breath shaky and warm on Geonhak’s face.

He kissed him again, and immediately decided to forgive Seoho for kissing back.

Geonhak nosed over the gland under his ear for a fresh hit of Seoho's scent. He pulled the neck of his sweatshirt aside to lay a kiss on his collarbone and continued his trail back down his body. 

Geonhak nipped at him, just under the pec and Seoho's chest swelled. Geonhak waited. A moment passed and the breath shuddered out of him once more. He didn’t bother telling Seoho he was being good; not only was that far more appealing to Geonhak than it was to Seoho, it was likely to make Seoho rowdy and rebellious rather than satisfy him.

He reached his hand down further, between his legs where the heat of him blazed through his clothes, and cupped Seoho through his shorts. To his surprise, Seoho kept his hands where they were, one wrist loosely crossed over the other. Geonhak didn't usually get to see him this pliant or quiet. Yet now, all he did was watch as Geonhak kissed down from the center of his sun-gilded chest to the softness of his unflexed belly as it moved with his breath. 

He was warm, and soft, and before Seoho, Geonhak had never known that you could want someone so much that you never tired of worshipping their body with kisses. Unlike Geonhak, Seoho's skin was unmarred by tattoo or scar. It was fitting. Between the two of them, Geonhak was certain he had more blood on his hands.

With that lingering at the forefront of his thoughts, Geonhak felt the reverence in his own touch as his fingertips skated up Seoho’s thighs, dipping under the hem of his shorts. He watched as the muscles in Seoho’s stomach flexed. He was fighting the desire to push up into Geonhak’s hands and urge him toward his cock.

And because Geonhak wanted—above all else in their interactions—for Seoho to feel as satisfied by them as he did, he was merciful.

He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the bulge in Seoho’s shorts, and felt his thigh tense under his hand with the effort of holding still. Geonhak doubted he could feel much of anything through his pants and underwear, but lingered anyway. He felt out the shape of him with his mouth, tasting nothing but cotton and the thick, citrus bite of Seoho's arousal. Geonhak looked up and their eyes met. Seoho's breath was quick and thin, his nipples still hard from the little attention they'd been given. His cheeks were flushed warm, though whether it was arousal, or still being mostly clothed, or even both was difficult to tell. Truthfully, Geonhak didn't really care. He was too obsessed with how comfortable and soft Seoho looked with his sweatshirt puddling under his arms and nothing but his torso exposed. Between that and the starstruck anticipation in his eyes, Geonhak could understand why some dominants considered bearing one's belly as a key part of submission. Not with Seoho the untameable, though. This was different. It was permission.

Geonhak's throat went dry at the thought and he had to swallow several times before he could speak.

“Lift up your hips.”

“But Geonhak, you told me to hold still,” Seoho replied cheekily.

Geonhak let out a huff of laughter. “Lift up your hips if you want me to touch your dick.”

Seoho promptly levered himself up off the bed and Geonhak dragged off his shorts. He folded them in half and tossed them over to the top of his dresser. His underwear, though, Geonhak only pulled down far enough to draw out his cock.

It twitched in his loose grip and Geonhak couldn’t help but smirk up at him.

Seoho’s protest burst out of him: “That was involuntary!”

Geonhak laughed and dropped a kiss to Seoho's hip bone as he settled down low, shouldering his thighs apart. Seoho let his legs bow open, bent at the knee. When he fit the soles of his feet against Geonhak's waist, Geonhak didn't call him on it.

He buried his nose in the crease of Seoho’s thigh and breathed in the smell of the cheap soap from the bathhouse, and the rich, spicy scent of his arousal. He’d gotten a better handle on himself after that first time, even though sometimes he wanted to bite Seoho so badly it made his teeth ache. But he was a fucking adult, so he’d been good. Respectful. And while he hadn’t left scent tags all over Seoho’s throat for anyone to notice, this place was for him. Just for him, he remembered, assuming Seoho had been telling the truth about his lack of other sexual partners, and a growl rolled out of his chest. 

Of all the people Geonhak had ever been with, he liked Seoho’s body best. His smiling eyes, his incredible ass, his plush lips. The way he bounced rather than walked when he was truly excited and the way his fat knot fit so perfectly in Geonhak’s hand. And his thighs, strong muscle under soft skin. Not quite unmarked; Geonhak could see the faint remains of the hickeys he'd left on the last occasion that he'd spent some time between Seoho's legs. The scent glands here were smaller, unable to be claim-bitten, but no less potent by Geonhak's estimation. Perhaps it was more intimate than they were supposed to be, but Seoho had never complained. Once he'd even held Geonhak there until the mark he left behind was a dark, deep purple edged in the impressions of his teeth.

He had, in all candor, gotten off on the idea that the other partners he assumed Seoho had would see the marks he left on him. Would know that Geonhak was there first, marking him up until it was undeniable that he had been in someone else's bed.

That feeling didn't even begin to compare to the knowledge that Geonhak was the only one rubbing his scent all over him and making him cry out with pleasure. When Seoho looked in the mirror, the only lover's marks he would see were the ghosts of Geonhak's passion.

Geonhak mouthed at the base of his cock, sucking over the tender area where his knot would have been. Seoho’s knot wasn’t as sensitive as Geonhak’s. It was why Geonhak had focused more on the head of his cock, on his slit, when he’d wanted to drag him over the edge for a second time. But it was an erogenous zone all the same, and sucking at it made Seoho’s cock stiffen even further in his hand.

Once he was fairly certain Seoho was fully hard, Geonhak kissed up his shaft like he had all the time in the world; like Seoho would be in his bed the next morning. He’d probably stay for dinner. Geonhak hoped he spent the night, but knew better than to count on it. That had only happened a few times, in hotels with freshly laundered sheets that mostly smelled like detergent. The difference between that and Geonhak’s own bed couldn’t be wider.

Geonhak circled his tongue over Seoho's frenum, around and around until he felt Seoho's toes curl against his ribs in response. He fought back a smile and sucked a wet kiss to the head of his cock, just to enjoy how it jumped in his hand, before he licked his lips and took him into his mouth.

Seoho had tested the limits of his jaw and gag reflex in a way no one ever had before, not that Geonhak planned on telling him that. Concerns about flattering his ego aside, it was probably painfully obvious. Since he'd never even blown omegas enough to get used to the general sensation alone, he'd struggled in the beginning. His limited, scattered experience wasn't close to thorough enough to prepare him to take anyone like Seoho, who inevitably nudged into his throat once he sank down far enough. But now they fucked two—or, if he was lucky, sometimes even three—times a week, and Geonhak liked to imagine he was getting better at blowjobs. From practice, not study. Seoho's mouth was so sinfully good he was never able to make as many mental notes as he wanted to before he was unable to think of anything at all. Not that he planned on telling him that, either.

Geonhak squeezed the base of his dick, and didn’t even try to make his lips meet his fingers. He just closed his eyes and focused on the taste of bitter in his mouth that meant he was doing something right; on the tension in Seoho’s legs when he flicked his tongue along his slit; on the velvet-soft skin sliding against his lips until they buzzed with sensation.

It was slow enough that Geonhak couldn’t ignore the ache in his jaw and had to pull back to focus on the tip or lining kisses down Seoho’s length. He’d already taken Seoho to the peak quickly today, now he wanted to take his time. To pull it from him gradually, appreciating every bitten-back sound and flex in his body along the way. Geonhak looked up, giving his cock easy pumps while he gave his mouth a break. Seoho’s stomach was trembling with his breath, his eyes screwed shut. His hands were still crossed above his head, one of them fisted in the pillowcase.

Pretty was an understatement. Seoho was beautiful.

Geonhak looked at him long enough to memorize the image before he ducked back down, lapping at Seoho’s drooling slit. He pushed past the tightness in his jaw and sank down, sucking hard on each pull up. He focused on dipping down a little further with each bob of his head, until Seoho got in the way of his ability to swallow and his spit was dripping over his gloved fingers.

A high whine was his only warning, and then Seoho’s cock was pulsing faintly as he spilled down Geonhak’s throat. He didn't pop a knot, but that wasn't unusual for the third orgasm in a handful of hours. Geonhak did his best to swallow, coughing once as he pulled off. His nose was a little stuffy, so all he could smell was cum and Seoho.

He cleared his throat and tucked Seoho back into his boxer briefs, tugging the elastic back up to his hips and smoothing his hands along the thin skin of his inner thighs, even though he couldn't feel the sparse prickle of hair.

And when Geonhak lifted his head, Seoho was staring at him like he didn’t know how to categorize what had just happened. Like he was seeing him for the very first time.

"What was all that for?" he asked, hushed.

Geonhak crawled up the bed, tugging Seoho’s sweater back down over his chest as he did. He flopped down beside him, pulled off the leather gloves, and said, "Giving your ass a break."

It wasn’t quite a lie, wasn’t quite the truth. The truth didn’t belong here. It couldn't fit in the space between them even if he'd wanted it to, because I was fucking you as if you were mine wasn’t a phrase that matched mapping gentle kisses across warm skin and artfully drawing an orgasm out of a willing body. 

No, the right word for that was lovemaking.

And that wasn’t the kind of relationship they had.