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The air outside Jongin’s kitchen window smells crisp. Like a misty forest spanning the length of a long valley, damp in the aftermath of fresh rainfall. Petrichor. It hasn’t rained in so long that Jongin forgets how comforting the aroma is. The mountains are far in the distance, but Jongin’s senses are heightened in his condition. The hints of fir tickle his nose. Everything is enhanced by the pup growing inside him.
Everything except…
Standing there, watching slowly forming globs of water drip down the half-open pane, Jongin can only think of the wetness seeping between his thighs. Ever since he started showing, since the beginning of his second trimester, his alpha refuses to knot him. They’ve barely touched in all the ways Jongin yearns for.
Tonight, like the downpour they haven’t seen in months, Jongin will change that.
Enough of tugging himself raw to memories of his mate’s touch. Tonight, Jongin will reclaim what’s rightfully his. More than anything, tonight Jongin will finally be knotted again. Filled until these latent heat pangs disappear into a river of alpha cum.
The sound of the front door is lost to Jongin’s potent reverie. The rushing faucet building steam over an empty sink and the drying soap suds on his fingers may as well be white noise. All of his focus is glued to the droplets falling down the window, splashing fat against the chambranle, sending shivers up his spine. Memories of wet squelching, of alpha cum leaking down his legs, nearly thrust him into a frenzied throe of horny passion.
When a pair of large hands crawl around his waist, resting at the center of his protruding belly button, Jongin snaps out of his trance. “You’re home early,” he mumbles, leaning his head against a sturdy shoulder.
“Missed you too much.” Chanyeol kisses gently against Jongin’s earlobe.
Jongin sighs, suddenly so warm. “What will your employees think if their CEO keeps taking half-days?” With Chanyeol this close, Jongin consumes his scent. The woods crawling up the mountain are stronger than they’ve ever been. It’s crawling through his lungs, into his bloodstream, to his steadily beating heart.
“They’ll think I’m the luckiest man in the world.” The words drench Jongin’s neck in warmth. He’s a canvas layered hot and wet, sweat building a second skin over his own. “They’d be right. I hire smart employees, don’t I?” Chanyeol rubs circles around Jongin’s swollen tummy.
Jongin laughs at that. “I thought my brother did most of the hiring, alpha.”
At the utterance of a single word, Chanyeol stops moving. Dangerously close to Jongin’s quietly dampening t-shirt. He glances down, where his perky brown nipples are visible through the ivory fabric. All Chanyeol needs to do is pinch them to soil the rest of Jongin’s torso.
The mental image has Jongin clenching around nothing. He moans, anyway.
Chanyeol growls in kind.
The faucet squeaks when Jongin turns the spout off, every eager drip from the waning deluge a drum against stainless steel. Tonight will take too long, Jongin reasons.
Turning around in Chanyeol’s arms, Jongin relishes the pressure against his womb. It somehow relieves some of the weight, Chanyeol taking up part of the heavy burden. Like this, their entire little family is closer than ever.
Jongin’s soggy digits crawl up the lapels of his gorgeous mate’s blazer, leaving rapidly drying bubbles behind. Chanyeol looks so good in a suit it makes Jongin dizzy.
Being like this reminds him of when they met. When Jongdae invited the man he was starting a business with to their weekly family dinner. The second Jongdae’s tall, gangly friend from college that enticed him to leave his cushy position at his company took one look at Jongin over the grill stacked with steaming meats, Jongin knew they were a perfect match. Chanyeol’s glimmering eyes, flashing red every time he glanced away, spelled out his reciprocated desire.
Even now, staring down at Jongin’s parted lips, his expression remains the same. After all these years, Jongin’s longing, like the embers that burned their pork belly, refuses to douse.
“Alpha,” Jongin whispers again, closing his palms tight around Chanyeol’s broad shoulders. “I need… to show you something important.”
Distress passes over Chanyeol’s hungry expression. Then, it softens, like the swathes of gray consuming the blue sky outside. Chanyeol leans forward, their foreheads touching. “Okay, baby.”
Ordinarily, Jongin would hate leaving this position. There’s nothing he wants more than to be this close to his lover, but his seeping, needy hole made other plans. This frustration has been building more and more with every I don’t want to hurt the baby or what if it puts you into early labor? Damn Jongin’s big brother for having Chanyeol read those baby books. Now, in his overeager dream of being the perfect daddy, Jongin hasn’t seen his daddy in… an infuriating amount of time.
Reluctantly, Jongin withdraws, tangling their hands together. “Let’s go, daddy.”
Chanyeol chuckles in his throat. Clearly, he didn’t catch Jongin’s meaning. But that sweet, careless comfort won’t last long.
He leads Chanyeol up the stairs. Into the nursery. The room is yellow, a neutral color, littered with pastel-colored accessories and toys. A jardiniere full of sunflowers sits by the window sill and stacks of teddy bears in all shapes and sizes lay everywhere else. The crib is painted eggshell woodwork, special order, and too expensive. Chanyeol bought it without hesitation. Only the best for our pup.
Through the soft lighting, Jongin can barely make out the carvings on the slats. It’s all hazy, his mind foggy with lust. Jongin wants to tear off Chanyeol’s slacks and bury his face in that alpha musk until he passes out, lungs full of nothing but pheromones.
“What’s this?” Chanyeol asks, crossing the room to precisely the reason Jongin dragged him up there. His mate drops to his knees, placing a huge palm on the wall closest to the crib. Fingers splayed against the bisque, thumb touching the edge of a freshly dried patch of paint. The one Jongin made in the morning when Chanyeol left for work. “Did you do this?” Chanyeol glances over his shoulder, up at Jongin hovering in the doorway.
“This morning, so don’t touch it.” The newspaper still lays on the carpet, paint brushes long since dried. Splotchy with all the colors Jongin had used. “Do… you like it?”
Placing his hands idly on his stomach, Jongin approaches his artwork. It’s nothing fancy, but Jongin swells with pride at the sight of Chanyeol’s trembling shoulders. He’s touched, Jongin figures. Always so emotional. It’s only a cartoonish version of their wolves. Huddling together. Chanyeol’s hulking, amber-furred wolf form curling around Jongin’s as his wide omega-blue eyes gaze at his alpha. Their noses touching. An image of their pure love.
“I figured, our baby should always be able to see us. Even from her crib. If she ever decides to get out of me…” Jongin sighs, placing his palm on Chanyeol’s quivering shoulder.
Those pretty scarlet eyes watch Jongin with laser focus and he swears his heart skips a beat. Or his heat is triggered because his entire body trembles instantly. But heats don’t come during pregnancy…
“What about the paint fumes, Nini?” Chanyeol blinks the red away.
The concern would be considerably cuter if Jongin’s hole didn’t pucker and secrete more liquid from the spicy smell permeating this tiny room. From Chanyeol no less, who’s been far too concerned with their pup and not nearly enough with Jongin. And Jongin has needs right now.
Chanyeol goes to stand but Jongin’s grip on his shoulder clamps to keep him on his knees.
“Nini, what—?”
“I need you, alpha.” Jongin runs his knuckles up the crook of Chanyeol’s neck, tracing his husband’s jawline with his index finger. Watching that cardinal flame consume the brown in his irises. “I need you so bad. Will you give me what I want?”
Chanyeol sighs through his nose, nostrils flaring. Insufferably handsome, despite his insistence to not take Jongin as he should. “I don’t want to hurt the pup.”
A smile tugs at Jongin’s lips, but he bites his lip to hide it. “You won’t.” He runs his fingers through Chanyeol’s coiffed hair. “Just do exactly as I say, alpha.”
Chanyeol’s eyes flutter, irises ardent like the roses on their dining room table. A gift from Chanyeol. Always bringing home flowers and tending to Jongin’s needs, like the perfect husband he is. In fact, his current position on his knees is opportune for tending to Jongin’s extremely hard need in his groin.
With fragile pressure, Jongin guides Chanyeol forward to the soaked sweatpants over his aching erection.
Nuzzling against his crotch, Chanyeol’s voice muffles in the damp cloth. “Right here, baby? In the nursery? Isn’t that a little…”
“She isn’t here yet.” Jongin tangles his fingers in Chanyeol’s hair, and tugs his head back to lock their stare. “I am, though. Now, put that mouth to good use, daddy. You’re my daddy, too.”
The groan that escapes Chanyeol’s throat as he reaches up to tug at Jongin’s waistband is cruel. Before Jongin says or does anything else, Chanyeol wraps his lips around him. It only takes a second for Chanyeol to swallow Jongin completely and he barely touches the back of Chanyeol’s throat. That’s never deterred Chanyeol before, and he sucks with just as much fervor.
Jongin throws his head back, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered to their future child’s ceiling. He moans, unabashedly, because he’s finally being touched. For the first time in months, Jongin’s body is being worshiped again.
A flush of hot slick seeps down his crack onto his thighs. It’s sticky and smells distinctly of vanilla. Chanyeol takes the opportunity to liberate Jongin of his pants, discarding them somewhere in the nursery. Cinder and ash spike through the air and Jongin tastes cinnamon on his tongue. He swallows his drool, drinking it like it’s the first freshwater he’s seen in years. In this sexless drought he never thought he’d be forced to endure.
“Stop, stop,” Jongin sobs. It comes out as a garbled mess of vowels, completely incoherent.
Instead, he just pushes Chanyeol’s face away with his hands.
Chanyeol is a good alpha, too, because he simply abides.
“Tell me what you want, Nini.” Chanyeol reaches behind Jongin and circles his rim, teasing it with light pressure at the end of every roundabout. “I’ll give you anything.”
Jongin inhales their mingling scents, licking his lips. “Mark me, alpha.”
Without question, Chanyeol releases Jongin and scoots back against the wall. Beside the mural Jongin created of their wolves. He beckons Jongin forward with the wave of his hand, and even though Jongin is supposed to be in control, he follows the command. Chanyeol takes his dainty digits, kisses his knuckles, pulls him down onto his lap. Their erections touch, though Chanyeol’s is still locked away behind his starchy slacks.
With a whimper, Jongin tugs at Chanyeol’s belt buckle. “Off.”
Chanyeol obliges Jongin’s demand, kicking his own pants away, off his body. Freeing his massive cock for Jongin’s gaze to feast upon. It curves up, against Chanyeol’s button-up, leaving a trail of pre-cum. Jongin hasn’t even touched him and Chanyeol’s knot is already a fat bulge at the base.
Jongin wants it in him so bad he almost cries, grasping at Chanyeol’s shoulder with one hand and his belly with the other. “What are you waiting for? Be a good alpha and mark me so everyone knows I’m yours.”
A growl rumbles in Chanyeol’s chest as his gaze drops to Jongin’s pregnant stomach. Those long fingers Jongin loves so much drape over his tummy. Fully engulfing the hand Jongin has there. “I think you’ve been marked enough.”
“Bad boy,” Jongin whines. “You’re not supposed to argue.”
“I’m still gonna mark you, baby. Just let me admire my hard work, first.” With that, Chanyeol peels Jongin’s t-shirt off. Leaving Jongin stark naked, dripping onto his alpha’s lap. “Gorgeous,” Chanyeol mutters, dazed stare devouring Jongin’s bloated body. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. My husband. My omega.” His hands are on Jongin again, running over his smooth skin and drawing mewls up his throat. “Mine,” Chanyeol mutters, and Jongin swears he’s talking to himself. His expression is feverish, burning desire so strong that Jongin feels the heat coming off of him like the sun.
Chanyeol clamps fingers around Jongin’s nipples, drawing rivulets of milk free. Soaking Chanyeol’s jacket, shirt, and tie. Milky residue splashes on his chin, cheeks, lips, leaving splotches of white all over him. He licks around his mouth, humming high-pitched contentment. It’s so erotic Jongin has to reel in another almost-orgasm.
“What are you waiting for? Mark me, alpha.”
With a hand on the small of Jongin’s back, Chanyeol pulls him forward to do just that. His lips close around Jongin’s neck and he leaves bruises all along his shoulder, neck, and chest. The kisses turn into bites, teeth sinking into Jongin’s flesh a little harder each time until they start to draw blood.
It awakens the wolf in Jongin.
He whines, petulant and childish.
Jongin bares his teeth and leans forward, perturbed by the fleshy boulder between them. And the clothes. He claws at the tie until it unravels, fingering the shirt until he can get enough leverage to rip it open. Buttons bounce off his skin, some sticking to the deluge still slick on his torso.
Chanyeol abandons the rest of his clothing. Jongin wants to taste him, to feel that flesh between his teeth. Leaning forward, uncomfortably over his pregnant tummy, Jongin sinks his own fangs into Chanyeol’s shoulder.
Chanyeol goes stiff, groaning again. More pheromones filter through the air. Jongin can almost see them like particles of dust. Can taste them on his tongue, along with the iron of Chanyeol’s blood as he latches onto the crook of his neck. Every single bite reiterates the same thing they both feel intrinsically: Mine. Mine. You’re mine.
Without warning, Jongin lifts himself up onto his knees. It’s a struggle with so much extra weight, but he manages to slot himself directly over Chanyeol’s erection, the tip sliding against his slippery taint. “You’re going to knot me, alpha. I’ve been dreaming of it.”
“I haven’t prepped you, Jongin.”
“Don’t worry,” Jongin says when the tip catches on his rim. He spreads his legs more. “I prepped myself.”
Chanyeol moans as Jongin swallows only his tip, grabbing at Jongin’s now pudgy hips for purchase. Trying to heave him down, to take the rest of that magnificent cock.
Jongin’s not so keen on giving up his control.
“Ah-ah.” Gracefully, Jongin rises up again and Chanyeol flops out of him. He’s still in the warm walls of Jongin’s soaked crack. Jongin grinds down against the erection, eliciting a gasp from his husband, then finds that tip again. Engulfing it in his walls and pausing. Waiting. “I’m going to go at my pace, alpha. Do you understand?”
Chanyeol nods, erratically, head lolling back against the wall keeping him upright. Lost in his own pleasure as Jongin inches down his cock. Jongin watches every minute reaction. Moving at this glacial pace, it’s like the entire scene happens in slow motion.
His orgasm wades through his nerves, ready to explode.
The second Chanyeol thrusts a minuscule inch upward, it erupts.
He squirts all over Chanyeol, drenching him in cum to match his milk. The orgasm is electric, shooting through him like lightning in the passing storm. All of his senses tingle, fresh with static. When he comes down he collapses, another roiling pleasure scintillating inside as he plummets all the way down onto Chanyeol, that knot catching on Jongin’s hole but not penetrating.
Jongin came unexpectedly but there’s still time for him to get what he wants.
With the little strength he has left, Jongin grips the marks he left on Chanyeol and begins a steady rhythm of riding him. Chanyeol sounds breathless, eyes squeezed shut and moaning with every haphazard bounce.
The knot opens him up perfectly at this angle. So long as he keeps this pace, he’ll swallow the bulb perfectly. He’ll be full again, so full he can barely breathe. The bulging thing snags on Jongin’s entrance and he grinds hard, wiggling until it stretches his rim wider and wider. Almost painfully, so.
Jongin yelps and freezes, tears brimming in his eyes. This feeling is so incredible he forgets how to move, stagnant in his complete and utter satisfaction.
“God, baby,” Chanyeol rambles, so undone his deep voice sounds guttural. “Baby, you’re so fucking sexy. You take my knot so well, so perfect for me. I’ve been dreaming about this, too. I just didn’t know if it would be okay, but I need you just as much.”
Jongin’s eyes squeeze shut as he adjusts, fingers carding through his sweaty hair, kisses littering his cheeks and jaw. This is euphoria, Jongin decides. Being like this, with his husband, enveloped in throes of passion despite how disgusting he’s felt during pregnancy.
Like clouds raining down the canopies in the distance, Jongin releases again. A measly amount of cum leaks out of his spent cock, dribbling and tiny against his thigh, buried under his mountain of a belly. His chest floods with milk again, wanton for someone to taste the delicious liquid.
Chanyeol’s too wrapped up in his own climax to drink it now. He pours into Jongin, filling him up with echoes of alpha cum, until Jongin can hardly breathe.
After he deflates, while he helps Jongin clean up in their bathroom and whispers I love you’s and you’re perfect’s, Jongin no longer feels weighed down with heady lust. All he feels is genuine love for the man who stole his heart over a sizzling grill.
Much later, as the petrichor settles in and Chanyeol reads a book to their unborn daughter, Jongin understands true satisfaction. Even with the occasional dry spell, sweet petrichor and Chanyeol will always be worth the wait.