Archive of Our Own

Boots: we're gonna have to cancel our appointment, it's that time of the season

Seoho insisted on calling their liaisons "dick appointments" in spite of Geonhak informing him how juvenile that was. Or maybe because of it, it was hard to tell. Once he’d finished rolling his eyes, Geonhak frowned.

Suit Guy: Isn't that more of a reason to meet up?

Boots: come on, you don't want to deal with this shit

Suit Guy: What if I do?

Boots: i get really pissy, it won't even be that fun

It wasn't about fun, not when Geonhak dug deep into himself. It was mostly that he believed that Seoho should be taken care of during rut and didn't trust him to do it himself.

Suit Guy: You can use my hot tub

Boots: i'll be over in 30min

~

Seoho began tearing off his clothes before the door was even fully closed.

"Whoa, hey," Geonhak chuckled, jogging over to shut it behind him. "We've got time, there's no rush."

Seoho kicked his shoes off and began wrestling with his pants.

"Clothes," he said darkly, "are one of the worst inventions humans have ever had."

His pants were kicked off as unceremoniously as his shoes, then sweater and undershirt stripped off together. It was the most graceless thing Geonhak had ever seen him do and he managed to get the sweater and shirt inside-out before he dropped the shirt to the floor. Once he’d righted it, the sweater was tugged back on just as viciously.

"Are you…"

"What?" Seoho snapped. His eyes were glassy and wild, his skin pink. Not fevered, more like it had been scrubbed raw. His normally bleach-blond hair was now dyed a pastel orange. Rut was beginning to creep into his scent, caramelizing the very edges of it.

Since it felt like he might get his head torn off if he asked if Seoho was okay, Geonhak elected not to. "...not wearing your lip ring?"

"I have to take it out during rut or I'll end up ripping it out of my face. Any other questions, or can I go?"

Geonhak had the sneaking suspicion that Seoho had narrowly resisted asking if Geonhak had any other stupid questions. "Go where?"

"To bed. Where the nice sheets are."

"Okay." Geonhak tried to project a sense of soothing unflappability and couldn't say how successful he was. Seoho had already rounded the corner when he called after him, "Do you want me to come with you?"

He took the silence as a no.

If Seoho’s ruts were as bad as they sounded, he probably had the enraging combination of body aches and hypersensitivity. Geonhak wouldn’t be surprised if he got migraines. All of that being highly likely, Geonhak figured his job was to stay out of Seoho’s way for a while. He wasn’t offended— after all, Seoho liked his sheets.

Geonhak did his best to move quietly in the kitchen, pulling out a cutting board and one of his nice knives to chop vegetables with. He enjoyed meal prep. It meant he always had something on hand if he didn’t feel like going out or ordering in, and he found the weekly ritual to be soothing. He hadn’t had need for it in this volume, with a grid of pyrex smartly filed along his countertop, since the last time he used a heat companion matchmaking service. 

It was strange to think about that sort of thing now. Truthfully, he felt a little bad about it, since the omegas he’d taken care of had been looking for something he wasn’t capable of giving them. He’d been polite and done his best to be comforting, but he was always hyper-aware of the strange distance. Not even knotting, that biologically imperative intimacy, had been enough to form the sort of connection he’d been so anxiously looking for. 

It all seemed so obvious in hindsight.

Between the chopping and cooking, Geonhak found himself as equally lost in thought as he was in his work, and was surprised to find that two hours had passed when he glanced at the clock. He snapped the lids over the filled dishes and stacked them on the counter before sliding each stack into the fridge. He didn't usually spend so much effort on himself when he cooked at home— his meals trended more toward utilitarian than anything else. It felt good to make an effort with skills he trusted, and fortunate to have the excuse of another person to make it feel worthwhile to use them.

He debated for several minutes over whether he should check on Seoho before deciding he would venture toward the bedroom and see if his scent offered any insight. He walked slowly, wary that Seoho might react badly to another alpha closing in on him during the inherent vulnerability of rut, but all it did was give him more time to feel bewildered: he couldn't smell Seoho at all. For a few moments he thought Seoho had shut the bedroom door behind him, but it was half-open. Standing in one of the sunlit patches spilling into the hall from the bedroom's windows, Geonhak eased the door open further and peered inside.

Seoho had shoved the comforter to the floor, but the rest of the covers were bundled over him in a motionless single-person blanket cave. Fondness and concern warred in Geonhak's mind. Concern won over. 

He rapped his knuckles against the doorframe to announce his presence, since he doubted Seoho could smell him. "Can I come in?"

From the blanket lump came a muffled, "It's your bedroom."

"I meant under the covers."

"Knock yourself out."

With one knee on the bed, Geonhak carefully coaxed the sheets out far enough to lift them up and slip underneath. The sunlight felt filmy, only partially penetrating the fabric, and the concentrated scent of alpha in rut was enough to take Geonhak's breath away.

Seoho was half twisted, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to sprawl over the entire width of the bed or curl up into the fetal position.  

Geonhak gave him a sympathetic half-smile. "Hey."

Seoho didn't bother to move his face away from the arm he had clutched around a pillow, which only made his subdued voice seem smaller. "Hi."

"Feeling any better?" Geonhak asked, and knew it was a stupid question as soon as it left his lips. Rut was settling in Seoho's scent to stay.

Seoho didn't call him out on it. "Did you know they don't even make rutblockers? I know heatblockers are dangerous, but they don't even try for us. How fucked up is that?"

It was likely because heat was contagious in a way rut wasn't. Like falling dominos, a strong heat could trigger other omegas into their own, or frenzy up an alpha into rut. Seoho knew that just as well as Geonhak did. There would be no benefit in pointing it out.

"It's pretty fucked up. Does nesting help for you?"

Seoho curled inward, hiding his face in his sleeve. "Are you making fun of me?"

Despite cultural portrayal, nesting was a fairly neutral urge that could affect alphas just as strongly as omegas. Hell, even betas could find comfort in wrapping themselves up in their partner's things.

"No." And when Seoho had no response, Geonhak reached out to briefly brush his wayward bangs with his fingertips. "When did you dye your hair?"

"Yesterday."

"Pre-rut ritual?"

"More like pre-rut insanity," Seoho muttered.

"Do you hate it?"

After a long moment, Seoho begrudgingly admitted, "No."

Geonhak smiled. "It suits you."

"Better than the blond?" Seoho sounded genuinely curious.

"They both have their charms."

"You're no help at all."

"Here's hoping that's the last time you say that in the next few days."

Seoho laughed, and the bitterness made it sound thorny. "We'll see."

Geonhak couldn't resist the chance to defend his plans. "I'm ready for this. I've got food prepped, I've got sports drinks, I can change the sheets any time you want. I even cracked open a brand new bottle of lube for the occasion." As he spoke, Seoho's scent turned brittle. "...What?"

"Stop treating me like an omega in a bad drama."

Geonhak gaped at him. "I'm-I'm not, Seoho, I just—"

"Yes, you are! You're acting like I'm an omega in heat who needs a big, strong alpha to take care of me!" The angry exclamation turned into a sneer the longer the sentence went on.

The accusation was so divorced from any of Geonhak's conscious thoughts that his first reaction was one of incredulous confusion: if I wanted an omega, why would I have invited you here? It was a lucky thing that Geonhak had years of practice in holding back his initial emotional impressions to things he found ridiculous. He took a long breath, which might have been a mistake: Seoho's scent made him feel lightheaded at the best of times.

Once he was calmer, Geonhak spoke firmly, his eyes locked to Seoho's. "Maybe I am taking care of you like I'm an alpha; that's what I am. But it doesn't mean I'm treating you like someone you're not. If you don't like what I'm doing, just tell me and I'll do something else."

"Don't baby me," shot out of Seoho's mouth, as if he were afraid that any amount of silence would destroy the opportunity to speak up.

"Okay."

"And don't act like knotting me will fix everything."

"I wasn't going to." 

Seoho shot him a deeply skeptical frown.

Geonhak smirked at him in return. "I got poppers in case you want to knot me, actually."

For a moment, brief enough Geonhak was unsure if he'd imagined it, he thought Seoho might have smiled back. "...Really?"

"Really."

Seoho didn’t say anything, but he smelled less agitated. At least as far as Geonhak could tell: it was impossible not to notice him grinding on the bed. He was angled just enough that Geonhak could see the bulge in his underwear, the sharp smell of his precum filling the space between them. Geonhak’s eyes flicked up to Seoho’s. His face was half-hidden behind the sleeve of his sweater, his brow pinched. He twitched, pressing his knee into the bed to try and get his full weight off of his cock. Restraining himself.

"Do you want a hand with that?"

Seoho’s eyes snapped to his own, a jolt of sudden, pure focus that nearly made him flinch.

"I don’t know," Seoho said, sounding strained.

"You don’t know?"

"Usually I can’t bear getting off during rut." And when Geonhak didn’t reply immediately, bit out, "I told you this wouldn’t be fun."

Geonhak ignored the bait. Seoho probably didn’t even want to fight. He just wanted to do something, to push and have someone push back. His usual desires turned up to 11. "Do you want to try, or do you just want company?"

Seoho let out a huff of air through his nose like a bull.

Geonhak made his voice as soft as he knew how to, smoothing away anything that could snag on Seoho’s prickling nerves. "I’m fine with whatever."

Seoho’s hips bucked against the mattress, his eyes screwing shut and his body shuddering as he locked each limb all at once in response. The noise that escaped between his teeth was a desperate, furious keen. "Touch me."

Geonhak edged close enough to hear Seoho’s harsh breaths. The light through the sheet was warm and dreamy. It felt like they should be reciting poetry to each other, not creating a conflagration of instinct and need between their bodies. Since neither of them had ever been good at doing what they were supposed to, when Geonhak reached for Seoho’s thigh, he didn’t hesitate. He pushed, just enough to urge Seoho more onto his side. His top half stayed flopped over, his arms crushing the pillow they wrapped around, only one wild eye visible under the sweaty mop of his hair.

Usually Seoho didn’t like it when Geonhak lingered, but he was so clearly overwhelmed that Geonhak couldn't help but give his thigh a squeeze, just to remind him what it felt like to be touched. When Seoho didn’t jerk away, Geonhak ran one finger along his cock. Seoho’s lashes fluttered. His cock pulsed. Gripping it through his briefs made him whine, hips lurching forward. Geonhak had planned to tease it out a little and work him up to it, but there wasn’t any time for that. Seoho was there already, he just needed a push over the edge.

Geonhak pulled down the elastic of his briefs and spit filled his mouth. Seoho was always big, that was a simple fact that he’d gotten used to through exposure. But the strain in him was new, the dark flush and drooling slit. He’d gotten Geonhak to look like this before, but only after snapping a leather cock ring on him and edging him for an hour. Geonhak licked his palm before he wrapped his hand around the shaft, heart soaring when Seoho immediately fucked into his fist. He whined again, a sound of utter frustration.

"I’ve got you," Geonhak said. Most times he held that sort of thing back, but when faced with Seoho’s reddened ear and his face buried in his sweater, desperate for release, he couldn’t keep it in. He must be horribly overwhelmed to feel so uncharacteristically shy about being watched.

He was hot to the touch, slick when Geonhak ran his palm over the tip. It only took five slow, firm pumps before he was spilling over Geonhak’s hand. Seoho whined again, distinctively muffled as he bit down on his own sleeve. Geonhak dragged down, slicking Seoho up with his own release, and squeezed his knot until cum stopped beading at his slit.

He waited until Seoho’s breath steadied to ask, "Better?" He smelled better, but Geonhak knew better than to point that out.

"I think so," Seoho said, and Geonhak didn’t know how to bear the sound of his normally bold voice so weak and uncertain.

"Was it too much?"

"No."

"Do you want to go again?"

"Not right now."

As drowsy as he sounded, his gaze was bright and focused when Geonhak let go of his cock and brought his hand to his lips to lick it clean. He’d intended it to be a practical thing, since the sheets would be sullied enough by whatever else they did in the future that he might as well try to spare them while he could. Seoho’s cum was sharp in his mouth, the citrus bite stronger and deeper with rut. Seoho hardly blinked as he watched Geonhak’s tongue curl around his fingers to catch the stray trickles. The air between them felt as thick and hot as steam.

Geonhak had just opened his mouth to ask what Seoho wanted to do when his phone went off. He’d silenced every notification that he reasonably could, which meant it had to be important. Reluctantly, Geonhak retrieved it from his pocket with his clean hand. He cursed under his breath when he saw the text was from his father, and read it twice under the pipe dream that he was wrong.

He sighed, feeling not unlike a deflating balloon. "I have to go. Are you going to be okay on your own for a while?"

"No babying, Geonhak, I'm a fucking adult."

"Alright, alright. Rest well."

Seoho was clearly too overcome to kiss on the lips, to say nothing of his mouth being totally blocked by his arm, so Geonhak gave his rumpled sleeve a peck goodbye and rolled out of bed.

~

He forgot about Seoho's scent right up until he got in his car and saw the spare stick of scentblocker he kept in the driver's side door. He didn’t have time to go back and rinse himself off, so he’d have to trust that his fresh suit covered up whatever of Seoho's scent he would have on his body. Still, it would've been suicide to walk in with another alpha's scent lingering on his throat. His father wouldn't stand for that revelation at the best of times, let alone during a business meeting. Geonhak yanked his tie off and undid the top few buttons of his shirt so that he could get the most skin coverage from the blocker possible. While he was going to be late, it was necessary time spent.

He tapped on the address he’d been texted and fed it into the GPS system without bothering to look at the map before he buttoned up his shirt and redid his tie. Seeing exactly how much he would be late by wouldn’t help anything. Geonhak drummed his fingers on the wheel at red lights, trying to get into the right headspace. He hadn’t requested further details— it was equally as likely that he was expected to be nothing more than a body in the room as it was that he would be the main person speaking. He should’ve asked. It would be easier to forget about Seoho if he knew what to prepare for.

He recognized the place when he parked, and was glad he was dressed appropriately. Even better, this kind of place was sure to have scent dampeners. His hazy memory was confirmed as soon as he stepped inside and took a breath. The air was cool and dry. No one would be able to smell his own scent, let alone Seoho’s.

Geonhak spoke to the maitre de and slipped past the main desk. He’d come in right at the tail end of a rush, it seemed, with various people lingering over their drinks, all their dishes cleared away. It didn’t take long to find the table he was looking for, and immediately Geonhak was struck with the terrible, lightning knowledge that the scent dampeners were far more beneficial than he could have guessed: the man sitting across the table from his father was Mr. Lee.

Geonhak refused to let his surprise show on his face. He squared his shoulders and pressed forward. Mr. Lee saw him first, and when their eyes met, Geonhak felt suddenly, irrationally certain that somehow, he knew that he'd been intimate with his son less than an hour ago. It felt as obvious as if he’d written it across his face or shouted it through the restaurant. He breathed in slowly and forced himself to stop fretting. He hadn’t gotten the impression that Seoho and his father were particularly close, so there wouldn’t be a problem as long as he didn’t give it away himself.

Geonhak’s father stood to meet him and Geonhak dipped his head for a moment in respect.

"At last, your dutiful right hand man," Mr. Lee said. "It's a shame my son only cares about himself, or else I would introduce you to him."

Geonhak blinked. It was an astonishingly backhanded thing to say about someone who wasn’t present to defend himself. 

"Is he an omega?" Geonhak's father asked.

"No. A pity. He would've borne a useful heir eventually if he was."

Geonhak felt his temperature drift upward. He would have found it distasteful even if he weren’t angry on Seoho’s behalf— it was a crude thing to say about anyone.

"And perhaps seal our family alliance more permanently." Geonhak’s father rested a proud hand on Geonhak’s shoulder, squeezing once. Geonhak swallowed back bile.

Mr. Lee’s eyes followed the movement. His expression was vaguely sour. "Perhaps."

They didn’t order anything to eat, which was Geonhak’s first indication that the meeting was intended to be a brief one. He understood why once it began; they were simply comparing a few key ventures and their respective profits. To the untrained ear, it could’ve passed for a regular business meeting. 

It was lucky he wasn’t expected to contribute anything aside from his presence and perhaps a few numbers when prompted, because he spent the entire time thinking about Seoho, alone and agonized in his bed. If he’d learned anything from his strange relationship with Seoho, it was that it was very possible to be distracted for an entire meeting without anyone else noticing. What that said about his vitality to the operation was bleak, but he’d experienced worse let downs in his life.

Geonhak watched Mr. Lee whenever it was appropriate. It likely made him seem particularly attentive, but Geonhak couldn’t have paid less attention to the content of the meeting if he tried.  He was trying to find any trace resemblance between the man before him and his son. There almost certainly was one, somewhere, but as Seoho usually smiled and Mr. Lee never did, he seemed like more of a stranger than he truly was.

When Geonhak went into rut for the first time after leaving home, he’d had to spend a good hour convincing his mother that he would be able to feed himself even if she didn’t leave meals outside his door. It had never occurred to him that Seoho might have agreed to spend his rut with Geonhak because he had no other options.

Geonhak was trying, unsuccessfully, to imagine Seoho with black hair to see if that would clarify the family resemblance when his phone chirped at him. "My apologies," he murmured, but his superiors were far too engrossed in their discussion to notice.

Boots: come back and fuck me

Geonhak had to suppress a smile. In some ways, the secret parts of his life were more exhilarating than anything else. Organized crime was not a lifestyle for people who liked to live openly; perhaps his father had raised him too well.

The longer the meeting went on, the less able Geonhak found himself to keep his thoughts from Seoho. He was waiting for Geonhak, asking him for something he didn’t want from anyone else. If the feeling that gave him could be bottled, he could’ve branched the family business out into drug dealing.

They shook hands at the end of the meeting. Mr. Lee’s hands were cold, but his grip was sure and his gaze didn’t falter. This time, Geonhak enjoyed the zip of adrenaline. Nobody knew Seoho the way that he did, and that had to be good for something.

~

Geonhak held his breath as he walked into his apartment, but there was nothing to hear. He tried not to feel disappointed about it and shoved his fantasy of Seoho writhing in his bed to the dark corners of his mind where it belonged. Seoho’s clothes were still in a scattered heap on the floor. Once he’d hung up his jacket and toed off his shoes, Geonhak glanced at the kitchen, and found the countertops empty of any dirtied dishes. The ticking clock on the wall felt like it nearly echoed in the silence. Geonhak resisted calling out for Seoho, since it wasn’t as if he would have left without his pants, and to avoid disturbing him if he was having some much-needed rest.

Geonhak didn’t start to worry until he stepped into his bedroom. It smelled like rut, but only faintly. As though Seoho had only stopped by before leaving again. Geonhak gave in to the juvenile thought to check both sides of the bed. He didn’t really believe he would find Seoho on the floor, but he didn’t know what else to do.

Just as he crossed around the end of the bed, there was a flash of movement from the master bathroom. Seoho hit Geonhak like a truck, knocking him onto the bed and hovering over him before Geonhak had caught his breath again.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

Seoho's eyes were manic and stormy. His sweater hung strangely loose around his body, like he hadn’t been able to keep himself from pulling at it, stretching out the collar until Geonhak could see halfway down his chest. He smelled like chlorine, though, so maybe the muscle tension had eased.

"My skull feels like it’s going to explode," he said, then added, "You’re out of bananas."

It was so unexpected that Geonhak had to stifle a giggle. "I bought some yesterday."

"You’re out now."

"...I see."

Without another word, Seoho lunged forward, burying his nose under Geonhak’s jaw. His hands tightened into fists, a sound like a cat getting ready to hiss coming from low in his throat. Geonhak didn’t have a chance to apologize for the blockers before Seoho was sitting up just enough to tear Geonhak’s shirt open, buttons clicking against the floor. Maybe Geonhak should have been frightened by his state, or annoyed at having quite a nice shirt torn off of him, but there was something thrilling about being so painfully, desperately wanted. While he’d always been an adrenaline junkie, the fact that it was making him hard was newer.

Seoho yanked at each side of the shirt until it got stuck partway down, bunched and digging painfully into the meat of Geonhak’s shoulders. Geonhak rested a steadying hand on Seoho’s hip, lifting his back up off the bed to pull it off of his arms. As soon as his top half was bare, Seoho’s nose was wedged between his chest and his left arm, like he didn’t quite have the confidence to put it squarely in Geonhak’s armpit. His breathing settled, his shoulders loosening.

"Better?" Geonhak couldn’t resist teasing. He let his elbow slide out, giving Seoho a little more room to breathe in his scent.

Seoho mumbled something unintelligible, his breath tickling over sensitive skin. Geonhak shivered. "What was that?"

"I’ll feel better once you fuck me." 

"You're gonna have to let me get my pants off."

This time when Seoho's rut-glinted eyes met Geonhak's, he did flinch. They were a warm, lupine amber. Geonhak had never met a shifter before. He couldn't reign in his impulses fast enough, cupping Seoho's cheek in his hand and running his thumb under his eye, feeling nothing short of awe. No wonder rut hit him with such crushing weight.

Seoho went stiff. "Change your mind?" he asked, his voice cagey, and Geonhak could see the sharp points of his elongated canines peeking into view.

Geonhak barked out a laugh. "Not even close."

He hated to push Seoho away, but the prospect of fucking him pliant was too alluring to let himself procrastinate.

It helped that Seoho was even more eager than he was: the moment that Geonhak was bare and back on the bed, Seoho gave his shoulders a shove and climbed into his lap. He wasn’t wearing underwear anymore, and the fevered heat between his legs made Geonhak gasp in surprise and newly-sparked interest. As soon as Geonhak’s shoulders hit the bed, Seoho was stripping off his sweater. His skin was flushed, though whether that was a consequence of the hot tub or his rut was impossible to tell. When Seoho dug his hands into Geonhak’s chest, he felt the sharp prick of his claws. The pain was as arousing as always, and Geonhak caught hold of Seoho’s hips to grind up against him. Seoho’s lips parted, his head falling back, meeting Geonhak’s rhythm with sweet, serpentine pressure. Geonhak didn’t get much of a chance to admire him before Seoho was raising himself up on his knees and reaching back for Geonhak’s cock.

"Seoho, don’t be stupid—" rushed out of his mouth before Geonhak could think about his words. He stood by the intention even if the message was imperfect; as much as Seoho enjoyed bottoming, rut wasn’t going to make him wet.

Seoho’s glare was lazier than usual, fuzzy with hunger. "Fingered myself while you were gone. It’s fine."

Geonhak’s panicked grip on his hips loosened. He nodded, and Seoho’s golden gaze slipped away. Geonhak’s cock caught on his hole, then slid off through the slick of lube. Seoho’s nostrils flared, irritation burning the edges of his scent like paper set aflame and curling in on itself. Rut made his citrus scent sharper, but Geonhak missed the peppery invigoration of cut herbs, to say nothing of the faint honey sweetness. He didn’t smell at ease, but that was what Geonhak was here for.

The first slide stole Geonhak’s breath away. The clutch of Seoho’s body burned like never before, and the relief he found in their contact was palpable. He slumped over Geonhak’s chest, and the moan that escaped his lips was velvet soft. When he didn’t move, Geonhak rolled up into him. Seoho cried out, his knees snapping tight against Geonhak’s sides and his whole body trembling. Pre-cum was already forming a puddle on Geonhak’s abdomen.

"Don’t," Seoho bit out. "Don’t move."

"Here I thought I was fulfilling your wishes by fucking you," Geonhak said. His hands slid down from Seoho’s hips to rest on his thighs.

Seoho chuckled, the sound thin and spare. "Maybe later. For now just— just let me." Not even a handful of thrusts and he was already panting hard. It wasn’t as if Geonhak could feel his pride had been infringed on, not when Seoho was falling apart with hardly any work.

"Okay," Geonhak said, trying to sound encouraging. "Whatever you want."

Seoho’s eyes locked to his as he carefully raised himself up and slid back down just as slowly. "I think you’d let me take whatever I wanted, even if I wasn’t in rut," he murmured. It sounded rhetorical, so Geonhak didn’t bother to answer. He sighed as Seoho rocked himself on his cock. It wasn't indulgent so much as it was needy; trying to find the right combination of movement and friction that would afford him some relief. Seoho clenched around him and Geonhak’s eyelids fluttered. Seoho’s voice was as awed as Geonhak felt. "Wouldn’t you?"

How much can you take before you have all of me?

Geonhak didn’t get a chance to reply. Seoho cried out, curling forward and stealing all of Geonhak’s attention. When Geonhak ripped his gaze away from his pleasure-slack face, he saw Seoho’s hand fisted around the base of his cock. His riding was jerky and tense, the hand around his flushed cock unmoving. Though he never neglected himself, Seoho wasn't usually solely focused on his own release. Desperation made him selfish, but Geonhak had expected that. As it often was, Geonhak felt his only job was to keep from popping a knot too soon. 

He gentled one hand around the back of Seoho’s neck, drawing him in close enough to kiss. Without Seoho’s lip ring, it was softer than it had ever been. If he couldn’t smell the razor’s edge of pain and frustration fogging around Seoho, Geonhak would’ve called it sweet. Another wash of pre-come dripped onto Geonhak's stomach. He should’ve set out some wet wipes or a washcloth; at this rate all his body hair would be stuck together by the time they finished.

Seoho dropped down hard, the slap of their skin stinging from the impact, and clenched tight around Geonhak’s cock. When he whined, it sounded as though he wanted to cry. Geonhak kneaded at his thigh and nudged his nose against his cheek. Seoho didn’t want to be treated gently, not usually. For most of the time they'd known each other, Geonhak had wondered if it was because he resented that gentleness was what he needed.

"Close?" he whispered, and brushed a kiss over Seoho’s lower lip.

"I can't— I can't." 

Seoho was begging, and Geonhak had never been good at resisting him. His first impulse was to bite him, sinking his teeth as deep as he could into the slope of Seoho's shoulder, just barely catching his scent gland. He resisted. Seoho's trust meant too much to him to throw it all away over an overly sentimental impulse. Yet there was a reason it came to mind, and he could do the next best thing. He ghosted his hand back up Seoho's thigh, grazing along the inside until he could dig his thumb hard into the scent gland there. A noise of frenzied relief ripped out of Seoho's throat and he came, hot and thick, all over Geonhak's chest.

It took quite a while for Seoho to return to lucidity. Geonhak couldn't help but wonder if Seoho could only bear to have him inside of him if he was relatively relaxed, since he hadn't even clenched as he came. His breath was harsh and ragged. His hand was still gripping his knot, his knuckles occasionally brushing Geonhak's abdomen when his cock jerked and another pulse of cum spilled over both of them. It didn't feel like the usual afterglow, but Geonhak nuzzled his scent gland anyways, licking and sucking on the sensitive skin. He fantasized about leaving a visible mark on Seoho’s throat often; staking his temporary claim in the only way he ever could. He resisted.

When Seoho finally stopped trembling with the aftershocks, he planted a hand on Geonhak's chest and pushed himself up. He was still hard, and sweat was turning his orange hair a dark rusty color at his temples. His expression was impossible to read.

"Do you think that helped any?" Geonhak asked him. While he smelled like rut more than anything else, hopefully that didn't mean the worst was still ahead of them.

Seoho let out a long, frustrated groan. "How many times do I have to come before it’s gone?"

Geonhak smoothed his hand up and down Seoho’s thigh. "It varies. We can go again once you've caught your breath. If you want to."

"Good idea," Seoho said, and his hand drifted up to Geonhak’s throat, digging his fingers and thumb in just under the hinge of Geonhak’s jaw. His claw bit in, just this side of breaking the skin. Along his whole body, Geonhak felt his skin tingle. Shifting was genetic, and rare enough that he had no idea how accurate the rumors were that injuries caused by a shifter during heat or rut would heal faster than they would have otherwise. At the moment, he didn't care. Geonhak tipped his chin up, baring his throat to Seoho. Submitting.

"Good boy."

The beginnings of a moan slipped through his lips, and Seoho's smirk turned predatory. He wrapped both hands around Geonhak's throat and waited. For all his occasional self-destructive tendencies, Seoho was a considerate dominant. He was waiting on Geonhak's signal, hardly putting any pressure on his skin at all.

Geonhak let his eyes slip closed and breathed in the anticipation of a scene not yet fully begun, easing into their now-familiar dynamic. He reached up to hold onto Seoho’s wrists, completing their circuit, and when his eyes opened, the first thing he saw was Seoho’s proud smile. Seoho let him take a few deep breaths, and then his fingers pressed into either side of his throat. It was brief, just a warmup, and then it was gone. The anticipation went staticy; building up in his knot and hands and behind his eyes.

"Nothing makes you hard like this does, did you know?"

It was a good thing Geonhak wasn’t expected to respond. It would be so easy to kill Geonhak like this, but that was part of the thrill, wasn’t it? He could. He wouldn’t. Seoho’s fingers dug in again and Geonhak felt tingly all over. 

He’d taken to holding his breath when he jerked off sometimes, but it was never the same. Not only did he naturally remain in control (and therefore still subject to the whims of panicking biology that couldn’t resist a basic need) but Seoho wasn’t there, watching him. Breathplay like this, with Seoho on top of or under him, was one of the few times that Geonhak could be assured of eye contact. He didn’t mind the lack of it— it only served to make it more intense when Seoho’s eyes were locked to his own.

Seoho rose up on his knees, dropping down just as he let go of Geonhak's throat, and the rush of blood flow timed perfectly with the tight heat of his body made Geonhak dizzy. Months ago, Geonhak never would have assumed he would enjoy being used. He was proud, and stubborn, and had spent too long making a name for himself to be reduced to a sexual object. 

He thought he had.

And yet, if Seoho was using him, it meant he was useful. It meant he was enough; that Seoho liked him. Needed him? Dangerous thoughts.

Geonhak was blessedly wrenched into the present by pressure on his throat. Not enough to choke, no, just a reminder of the power Seoho held over him. Geonhak's life in his hands and his fingerprints smeared over Geonhak's scent glands. He dug in with his claws, bright stars of pain shining through the fog. Like teeth; a bite; a claim. Geonhak's heart flipped in his chest.

Dangerous thoughts.

Seoho smoothed his fingers over the divots he'd left, as if he could wipe the feeling away. As if Geonhak could ever forget something that Seoho had made him feel. 

The emotions he tried so desperately to cage reared up inside him, and just as it felt they were going to break free, Seoho's grip tightened. Geonhak's awareness narrowed and focused on Seoho's eyes, golden and hungry; the way he clenched around Geonhak's swelling knot; his hands, meticulously pulling Geonhak's mind into the fog. He could never decide which he liked better; the way his senses dulled to all but the most essential information, or the heady, near orgasmic rush when Seoho let go. Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Choking brought a new rhythm to the movements of their bodies; another cycle of repeating pleasures.

"Fuck, I enjoy you like this." Seoho's voice was tinny and distant. "Not even tying you up makes you hold this still."

Seoho’s teeth worrying at his lips had made them swollen and red. Geonhak wished he would lean down to kiss him; he always hungered for the warmth of Seoho’s body pressed close to his and he was too buzzed to be properly embarrassed by it anymore. Breathplay made him feel drunk, made him feel like his soul had detached and was loose in his body, lapping up against the edges of his existence. It was as raw as it was hypnotic, and best of all, it was simple.

Reality slimmed down until sex was the only thing that remained: the catch of his knot on Seoho’s hole and the hands around his throat; Seoho’s lips, red and wet and unfairly out of reach; his hair, creamy orange curls bouncing as he rode. Rut made his scent all the more enticing— in an instant Geonhak understood why people said that an omega in heat smelled ripe. He wanted to taste him. He wanted to sink his teeth in deep enough to scar. He wanted… he wanted so much he couldn’t keep track of it; thoughts slipping out of his mind like water through splayed fingers.

Seoho was still talking, Geonhak could see his lips moving. He couldn't hear anything beyond the faint thud of his own heart in his ears. That wasn't normal, was it? Trying to remember was like walking through syrup.

His entire body went cold, and for the first time in his relationship with Seoho, Geonhak felt true fear. Grey fuzz threatened at the edges of his vision and the decision was automatic. 

Geonhak squeezed Seoho's wrists — partly to be sure he could still do it — and let go.

Time turned elastic, and what was probably a mere instance seemed to pass like hours. Geonhak gasped before he registered that Seoho had let go of him, his eyes watering at the primal relief of air rushing into his lungs. It didn't soothe him on a physiological level— Seoho cut off his blood supply, not his airway. But something deep in his bones knew it was air he needed, and he gulped his way through deep, dizzying breaths. The smothering fear was gone, he just needed his body to catch up.

A full minute must have passed before Geonhak noticed that his cock was still inside Seoho, miraculously still hard. Seoho's hands were on his chest and he looked very, very worried.

"Okay, Geonhak?"

Geonhak tried to speak and just ended up coughing. Seoho pressed something into his hand— the water bottle from his bedside table. While Geonhak took a long drink, Seoho's clawed hands flitted around his face, as though he wasn't entirely sure if he should be touching him or not. He twitched Geonhak's hair back from his forehead and touched his cheek with his fingertips before beginning to pull away. Geonhak caught his wrist, holding his palm against his cheek, and Seoho half-relaxed into the touch.

He was downcast, fiddling with the rumpled sheets with his free hand when Geonhak looked up at him. Beyond the temporary physical distress, Geonhak felt alright. They hadn't been in the scene long enough for his mental space to shift, which meant that Seoho was far more upset than he was. Shame clotted through his scent, clouding the crisp brightness of the room.

"...Do you need a break or for play to stop?" Seoho sounded like he was dragging the words through mud.

"Stop," Geonhak said promptly. "I don’t think we can do breathplay during rut."

The fact that he was clearly expecting that didn't make Seoho any less ashamed. "I'm really sorry, I'm just so fucking—"

"I'm fine." Geonhak turned his head to kiss Seoho's palm. Stepping a little beyond his limits was bound to happen eventually, what mattered to him was that Seoho had heeded the safe sign and they'd already discussed what to do about it. "And I get it."

"There's no way rut hits you like this," Seoho said, and wrenched his hand away from Geonhak’s face. His chest was red and blotchy, his skin slick with sweat. He was sensitive enough to temperature already, and Geonhak felt a pang in his chest when he realized how much worse it must be during rut.

His hand fell to Seoho’s knee, giving him a single, hopefully encouraging squeeze. He kept his tone as even as possible; he had no interest in rising to the bait and getting into a pissing contest over how bad their respective ruts were. "No, but I’m here with you, so I can see how bad it is."

One corner of Seoho's mouth tipped upward into a wry smile. With his hands braced on Geonhak’s chest, he rose up on his knees to let Geonhak slip out of him.

"Not in the mood anymore?"

Seoho shrugged one shoulder. He hadn’t managed to look Geonhak in the eye for several minutes. His fingers curled, claws scratching over Geonhak’s skin. One caught, and Geonhak felt the itchy heat of a shallow cut.

"Watch the claws," Geonhak chuckled.

His hands jolted away as if burned. Seoho folded in on himself, arms crossed over his torso. "I should've stayed home."

"Seoho—"

"I hate this!" The volume of the outburst shocked Geonhak into silence as much as the emotion did; Seoho looked like he was near tears. His hands clutching at his arms tightened and his claws raked long, ragged furrows into his biceps that immediately beaded with blood.

Geonhak's heart leapt into his throat and he jolted forward, half sitting up. "Seoho, stop. You're hurting yourself."

Seoho ripped his hands from his arms. They clenched into fists so tight that blood trickled near immediately down from his punctured palms. "It's better than hurting you!"

Geonhak caught his wrists. He worked his thumbs between Seoho's curled fingers, slipping in the blood. Reluctantly, Seoho's fingers unclenched.

"Not to me," Geonhak said softly. He tried to catch Seoho's eye, but Seoho was resolutely looking down. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears and his brow was knit so tightly that Geonhak knew it couldn't be helping his headache. He wanted to hold him, to tuck Seoho's face against his neck and let his scent soothe him, but that sounded like his own wishful thinking. Soothing Seoho looked a little different. "Lie down."

"I'm gonna ruin your bed," Seoho muttered mulishly.

"You're not. Lie down on your stomach."

The way that Seoho managed to make the act of lying down look huffy would've been funny if he wasn't spattered with blood and reeking of guilt. Or if Geonhak couldn't see the sharp tension in him, his hands twitching for something to tear. Once he was as prone as he was going to be, Geonhak slowly settled on top of him, giving him plenty of time to object. Seoho liked this when Geonhak knotted him from behind, grumbling protests when Geonhak tried to get up.  Usually he was already relaxed, all the vinegar fucked out of him. This wasn’t at all the same. He felt frustrated, his back bunched with clenched muscle and a fine tremor running through him every so often. Pressing Seoho into the bed with his weight, Geonhak rubbed his cheek on Seoho's nape and let his hands trail down his arms. He laced their fingers together, so that even if Seoho clenched his fists, his claws couldn't dig into his palms anymore. A soft noise escaped Seoho's lips.

"Okay?" Geonhak murmured.

"Fine." His voice sounded clogged and sticky, but Geonhak knew better than to draw attention to it.

Despite the acrid bite of Seoho's distress heavy in the air, Geonhak took a long, deep breath and let it out just as slowly. After a couple inhales, Seoho shakily breathed with him. Geonhak squeezed his hand. Seoho squeezed back.

"I can tell you're in a lot of pain."

"Have you ever considered becoming a detective?"

"I’m trying to sympathize."

Seoho didn’t reply. Whether he had nothing nice to say or wasn’t interested in talking was hard to tell.

"Has anything ever made it easier?"

Seoho shook his head. His voice caught in his throat, snagged on the tears he refused to let fall. "There was— training, I guess you could call it. Meditations to help tame the shift. But I never got a handle on it. Too much of a wuss."

Not a word that Geonhak would have ever applied to Seoho, but there wasn’t any use fighting about that. "What if your situation is more difficult?"

"Keep sweet-talking like that and I'll swoon into your arms."

Geonhak chuckled and some of the tension in Seoho eased away. He always liked making Geonhak laugh. Geonhak cleared his throat and squeezed his hand once more. "I'm serious, though. You're fucking miserable. Why would you half-ass training that would make it better? The logical answer is that none of the training you had was enough, right?"

A breath shuddered out of Seoho. "Maybe." 

He smelled afraid. Not the sharp, instinctual panic of mortal danger that Geonhak had felt earlier, but something slower, heavier. Drawn out and long-lived. He nuzzled into Seoho's hair and squeezed his hands, doing his best to project an air of calm acceptance.

"What are you thinking about?"

He was close enough to hear the click of Seoho's throat as he swallowed. His voice was small, flimsy. None of his usual bravado. "What if it doesn't get better?"

Geonhak wished he could say he didn't believe that was possible, but Seoho was right: his ruts weren't anywhere near this bad. His ruts were irritating, sure, but he never had needs he couldn't satisfy. He didn't suffer like this.

He didn't see any reason to offer up false confidence. "Then it'll be pretty miserable."

Seoho made a sound like a sob fraying apart.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up on you, okay?" And when that got no response, Geonhak squeezed him tighter and continued, "I'll pin you down as much as you want. Or I'll sleep on the couch if you want to be alone."

"I don't want that."

"Which part?"

"Being alone."

"Okay." Geonhak dragged the tip of his nose along the curve of Seoho’s neck. He was still tense and uncertain, but the fear was receding a little. "When I said I wanted to deal with this, I meant it. I didn’t think it would be a fuckfest the entire time, or that I could fix everything, I just… I wanted to look out for you and make it a little better. I still want to."

It felt like wishful thinking, but the quiet that settled over them like a cool sheet seemed almost hopeful. Seoho gradually relaxed, tension bleeding out of him the longer they spent pressed together.

Seoho didn't say another word until he shifted in Geonhak's arms. "Are you still hard?"

Geonhak laughed. "Here's hoping it doesn't last over 8 hours so I can keep holding you instead of seeking medical assistance."

"You could fuck me like this, couldn't you?" Seoho said, and he pressed his ass back against Geonhak's cock. A flare of arousal hit Geonhak's nose, rich and spicy.

It took all of Geonhak's composure to sound anywhere near normal when Seoho was teasing him. "We don't have to do anything."

"And yet I still want you." Then, when Geonhak had been quiet for too long, he added, "If you want me like this."

Like this.  

Generally, Geonhak felt as though his desire for Seoho was large enough to consume him whole— not from the passion as much as the sad certainty that Seoho didn't want him in the same way. Maybe that was why those two words struck Geonhak in such an acutely piercing way. Or maybe it was because he always had a chance to blaze with want, but so rarely had the chance to cherish. Maybe, like so much of their relationship, he had no rational excuse for his behavior whatsoever. In the end, Geonhak was just as impulse driven as Seoho. He'd just never had something he wanted until now.

Without another word, Geonhak sunk his teeth into the curve of Seoho's shoulder, and when Seoho gasped and went totally limp, he let go of one hand to position himself at Seoho's hole and sink inside. He took it slowly, just in case Seoho was feeling as overwhelmed as he was before, but his attempt to soothe him seemed like it had been successful; the deeper Geonhak went, the more Seoho melted into the bed.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," Seoho sighed. "Fuck yeah."

It couldn’t have been more different than the frenzy that Seoho rode him in; Geonhak fucked Seoho as though it were a lazy Sunday morning and their only plans were a late lunch once they managed to coax themselves out of bed. He didn’t have much leverage for more, since his knees were splayed out further than usual in order to keep his chest pressed to Seoho’s back. There was no guarantee that Seoho would come to him for his next rut, and the urgency that thought lent him spurred Geonhak into giving him all the tenderness he had. 

His hunger for Seoho wasn’t truly large enough to engulf him outside the time they spent together— they had sex so often that many of Geonhak’s desires were sated. The ache to be gentle, however, was a constant frustration. If he allowed himself to think about it for any length of time, he ended up feeling terribly melancholy in a way he found shameful. He’d known, from the very beginning, exactly what Seoho wanted from him. His wayward feelings were his own to manage. Even now, pressed together as close as two people could be, as surrounded as he was enveloping, Geonhak felt a vast ocean of unspoken sentiment between them.

There had been a time in his life — not too long ago — when he’d believed that heartache was a metaphorical thing.

Geonhak sheathed himself inside Seoho in a long, smooth thrust and Seoho’s hand twitched tighter in his. Seoho wasn’t usually so quiet, but the lack of volume didn’t mask his pleasure. His breath caught in his throat, half-voiced sounds fluttering from parted lips. Their hands were clenched so tightly together that Geonhak couldn’t tell if the pulsing heartbeat he felt was Seoho’s or his own. The idea thrilled him, the bone-deep yearning for closer and more once again whetted anew. 

Seoho’s exhaustion was a double-edged sword: as much as Geonhak enjoyed having him like this, it threw the rest of their time together into stark relief. They didn’t hunger for the same things, and in that, the ocean would always be impassible. When Geonhak’s throat tightened, he did the same thing with the pain that he always did and tried to shove it down so deep that he would never risk having it fall out of his mouth. Geonhak dragged his nose through the hair at Seoho’s nape, breathing in the smell of sweat, rut, and sex. It was better to feast for a time and yet remain hungry than spend his whole life starving. He knew that. 

It wasn’t long before Seoho was pressing back into his touch, hips rocking in time with the slow, easy thrusts. Usually, Seoho would race to the finish, eager for release. Now, pinned under Geonhak’s weight and wrung out from his own attempts, he let himself be led in the rhythm. Pressed into the bed, the drag of his cock against the sheets must be delicious; his knot caught between his body and the bed. 

Like a match catching fire, the smell of fear hit Geonhak’s nose in a smoking instant. Geonhak heard Seoho’s voice again in his mind, the unfamiliar worry infecting each word: What if it doesn’t get better? He must be getting close, close enough to wonder if he would get any of the relief he was hunting. Geonhak ignored the strange, tense ache in his mouth. Rather than sink his teeth in, he dusted kisses along Seoho’s neck. Seoho’s answering sigh shuddered as it left him and he tilted, bearing his throat to Geonhak’s mouth. Geonhak’s knot throbbed. He wanted, with such overwhelming strength that he didn’t dare look at it directly, for fear that naming the feeling would pull it out of the dark corners of his chest and into the damning clarity of daylight.

Geonhak’s lips latched onto the tempting arch of his neck, sucking hard as he ground in deep, and Seoho went rigid and trembling. Geonhak didn’t have time to pull out before his knot popped, but Seoho circled back on it, so he must not have minded. The tremors hit in waves, all of his muscles clenching tight around his orgasm. He was panting once it passed, as though they’d fucked like they usually did, with passion translated to wild athleticism and rough speed. He smelled like weak relief— if Geonhak had to guess, it hadn’t gotten much better, but it also hadn’t gotten worse.

That was probably a good thing. If they fucked like this often, Geonhak would lose any control he still had over his rebellious heart.

His mouth had left a dark, purpled mark on Seoho’s neck. He hadn't before, fearing that such a visible claim wasn’t his to leave, but Seoho had liked it. He could tell, from the syrupy satisfaction that buzzed through Seoho’s scent and the way he reached up to touch it. He pressed in hard, breath shuddering when his fingers fell away. Geonhak felt as though he should say something, but the only thing that wanted to spill from his mouth was seawater. He clenched his teeth around the clamor of words and closed his eyes to enjoy having Seoho close.

Neither of them spoke until Geonhak’s knot went down. Seoho made a soft, bereft noise when his cock slipped free, a thick spill of cum following after it.

Geonhak pushed himself up. The air felt chilly against his sweaty chest. "Okay?"

Seoho didn’t move. Lying on his stomach, leaking cum and looking out the window with dried blood rusting over his blunt fingertips, he seemed strangely small. Dull where he was usually bright enough to fill any room. "My head hurts."

"Think you need to eat something?"

"I'm also nauseous."

"Maybe just something to drink? So being dehydrated doesn't make it worse?"

"Only if you bring it to me," Seoho retorted, and Geonhak couldn’t help but smile. 

In all honesty, he didn't care if Seoho was trying to be snotty or not. It was just a relief to have him sound like himself again. "Deal."

He pulled on a fresh pair of underwear before leaving the bedroom and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Seoho pulling the sheets up over his head once more. The wood floor was pleasantly cool underneath his feet, a welcome respite from the sweaty heat of sex. Afternoon was slipping into evening, so Geonhak took the chance to draw the blinds around the apartment before snagging a water bottle and a sports drink from the fridge.

Seoho was still a lump under the covers when Geonhak returned, but he shifted a little when the drinks were set down on the bedside table. Geonhak pulled the blackout curtains across the window nearest to Seoho, dimming the room considerably. Then he walked around the bed, pulling the sheets away so that they wouldn’t get caught under him when he sat down. He picked up his phone for the first time in a few hours, replied to some texts, and settled in to read the articles he’d had opened for weeks.

Seoho reached for the sports drink first, still half under the blankets. The sound of the cap’s seal breaking felt so loud, even with the regular noise of the city beneath them. When Seoho set the bottle back on the nightstand, it was more than half empty. Geonhak smiled to himself and turned his attention back to the article he was reading.

Nearly an hour passed in relative silence before Seoho got antsy again. He rolled onto his other side, yanking at the bedclothes until they were arranged to his satisfaction. Minutes later he rolled back. The process repeated a few times before Geonhak spoke up.

"Can I help you with something?"

"No, I just—" Seoho threw the blankets off and jerked the bedside table’s drawer open. Between the angle and the dimness, Geonhak didn’t know what he pulled out of it until Seoho had himself half-propped up on a pillow, hands between his legs. There was a tiny click, then a smooth buzz. They’d only ever used the vibrating knot ring on Geonhak, and he was a little sorry he couldn’t see everything that was happening. Though perhaps that only made Seoho’s relief all the more palpable; he let out a long, satisfied sigh and his scent slid into something a little more peaceful. Geonhak closed his eyes, and drank in his sounds. His breath shifted seamlessly between long, contented exhales and shuddering inhales. Even through the smell of sex that lingered in the room, the scent of his precum felt bright and new.

Geonhak narrowly resisted jumping when Seoho’s hand fell to his knee.

"Can you…?"

"What?"

Whether the softness of his voice was from the darkness, the stimulation from the toy, or the prospect of having to ask for such a thing was impossible to tell when he whispered, "Hold me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure thing."

It took some shuffling to get Seoho between his legs, back to Geonhak’s chest, but once he had he let out another satisfied sigh.

"Need a hand?" Geonhak murmured, nosing behind Seoho’s ear.

"No. Just this." Seoho reached behind him until he found Geonhak’s hand, dragging it around his middle.

Geonhak tucked his face in the crook of Seoho’s neck, closed his eyes once more, and committed as much to memory as he could.

There was a quivering tension in Seoho’s body; a weak determination that made him seem equally powerful as he was fragile. All those contrasts were part of what Geonhak liked best about Seoho— that a man could somehow hold so many conflicting multitudes in his body without breaking apart or extinguishing to nothing. Tenderly sadistic. Foolishly clever. Dangerously comforting.

Seoho’s voice caught on a whine and his head tipped back to rest on Geonhak’s shoulder. There was another little click, and the buzzing noise jumped up in pitch. Geonhak was glad Seoho remembered the knot ring, because he’d forgotten about it entirely. It made sense: unable to bear the constant friction of a different sort of touch, the steady vibration could still ease his discomfort.

Seoho’s chest heaved, his breath so loud beside Geonhak’s ear. He caught Geonhak’s wrist and squeezed so tightly that it hurt. A long moan ripped out of him, and the smell of his cum filled the room once more. He fumbled with the ring, the vibration cutting out so suddenly that the silence that took its place seemed impossibly vast. Not totally silent, however, because Seoho was still panting. After a minute, he giggled, then groaned.

"That’s the first one that has actually felt like an orgasm," he said, voice wandering.

"Congratulations," Geonhak told him. "Glad to be of service."

Seoho laughed again, sounding dazed. He flopped over to the side, rearranging his loose limbs until his head was just tipping off the bed and his legs were in Geonhak’s lap. For the first time in hours, it looked like his erection was fading. "Can we order in?"

"I have food here."

"Maybe I don’t trust your cooking."

Geonhak looked at Seoho sharply, more than ready to defend himself, and found Seoho grinning at him.

"Maybe you can fend for yourself for dinner."

"Some rut partner you are."

"Yeah, and you only like me for my hot tub, so I think we’re even," Geonhak said, and dumped Seoho’s legs out of his lap so that he could get up. Seoho’s giggling trailed along after him, filling the darkening apartment with sunlight once more.

Geonhak came back to the bedroom with his hands full of pyrex and utensils to find that Seoho had drawn the blackout curtains. He was sitting up against the headboard with his arms looped around his knees, watching the pinprick lights of the cars moving on the streets below. He looked so picturesque it almost seemed wrong to interrupt him, but he did need to eat.

"Here. See if this is to your liking."

Seoho took the container without looking and said, "You know I don’t only like you for your hot tub, right?"

Geonhak tamped down the ache of longing that sprouted in his chest. "I know."

Even if he didn’t have Seoho’s heart to himself, he was still gratified by how Seoho’s mouth fell open when he opened the lid to see the pre-portioned meal that Geonhak had cooked earlier that day. Even more gratifying was how quickly he ate, but that wasn’t wholly unexpected. Geonhak had brought several containers with him for a reason.

"Where did you learn how to do all this?"

"At the risk of sounding like I’ve been treating you like an omega—" Seoho hummed in a way that Geonhak thought was conceding; accepting that Geonhak had been doing his best for Seoho. "—I was signed up for a heat companion service for a little while. Learning how to stock up was part of the certification process."

"It was probably easier to be a heat companion, right? Less chance of getting choked out by some uncontrollable alpha."

Seoho said it like it was a joke, but Geonhak had been around him enough to know that he couldn't help but bring it up because he was still stewing about it. It bothered him and he didn't know how to explain that, so he stretched brittle, plastic humor over it before holding it out to Geonhak for his appraisal.

Geonhak leaned over until their shoulders were touching. "If you were uncontrollable you wouldn't have stopped when I told you to stop." Then, before Seoho could argue with him, he added, "And it wasn't easier. It was really hard."

Seoho leapt on it the way Geonhak knew he would. He didn't want to talk about all the ways he believed he was a fuckup, not really. "Because of all the standards of care regulations?"

"Because I knew I wasn't feeling the way I was supposed to feel, but I didn't know why." He could feel Seoho's eyes on him as he pushed rice around the shallow glass dish. "It was supposed to be a big deal, you know? I thought heat was what every alpha lived for, and yet I spent all our time knotted mentally making my grocery lists or something. And then I felt bad that they'd paid money to be matched to someone who wasn't into it."

"You didn't like it."

"I didn't hate it. I always got off. But just from the physical reflex of it, not because it did anything special for me."

"So…" Seoho sounded careful. Apprehensive. "...You don't like omegas in heat?"

Bewildered, Geonhak looked at Seoho. It had never occurred to him that Seoho wouldn't know— how could he not, when Geonhak had been crazy for him since that night? Since the very first kiss?

"I don't like omegas like that at all." Seoho’s eyes widened. He looked so caught out, smelled so cornered, that Geonhak couldn't resist trying to lighten the mood: "So I guess I owe you, for helping me figure that out."

It didn't work. Seoho looked down at the half eaten second dish in his hands like he thought it was going to bite him; like he thought he was going to be sick.

"Yeah," he said in a small, achingly thin voice. "I guess you do."

~

Geonhak woke up to an empty bed and the sound of Seoho singing in the shower. The empty half of the bed was cold, but when Geonhak pulled the sheets back up over his shoulder, he got a dizzying hit of Seoho’s scent. When he closed his eyes and inhaled, he was struck with the rivaling sensations of his body sinking comfortably into the bed and a sharp bolt of arousal from his core. Seoho was still in rut, that much was clear. And if that bothered him, he was doing an amazing job of pretending that it didn’t.

His voice was lovely.

Geonhak drifted for a handful of minutes before breathing deep and quick enough to truly rouse his body. They’d closed the curtains before settling in to sleep, but the bright bar of light at the edges let him know it was mid-morning. Hopefully sleeping in had helped Seoho as much as it sounded like. He checked his phone, relieved to find nothing that required his immediate attention, and went to the bathroom.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t resist hanging around in the doorway to listen. He could hear Seoho’s phone now, tinny in its war against the sound of the water, but mostly there was Seoho. He had a fitting amount of flair, stylizing the melody to match his voice rather than bend to the confines of the song itself. He held notes out long as if he reveled in them and hummed harmonies to the instrumentals. Most charming of all, Geonhak could hear that he was smiling.

He quickly felt bad about his subterfuge and cleared his throat before stepping up to the sink and splashing water on his face. Seoho faltered once, then charged right on ahead.

It was when Geonhak went to the towel rack to dry off that he noticed Seoho’s clothes were all over the floor. He’d already crouched down to pick them up when the shower stopped and the door slid open, so there was no point pretending he hadn’t. 

With his heel planted on Geonhak's shoulder, Seoho shoved him back onto his ass. It was a good angle. Water trickled down his body, light catching in the wetness of his chest and stomach. The scratches on his arms and punctures in his hands, thankfully, seemed like they’d healed over in the night. But most distracting of all, he was half-hard and well within reach. When Geonhak looked up to his face again, Seoho was smirking at him. His foot slid down Geonhak’s torso to press between his legs.

Geonhak swallowed back a sigh. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I'd kill a room full of people just to fuck you." His head tilted, his heel pressing down at the base of Geonhak's cock, right where his knot would pop. Geonhak's heart pounded in his chest. "Is this how rut feels for everyone else?"

"You can fuck me," Geonhak said, soft and certain. "We can make that happen." Seoho grinned wolfishly at him, his lips spreading wide until they finally reached his eyes. Geonhak's heart felt like it was doing flips. He cleared his throat. "We should eat first." The smile went devilish in an instant, his eyes bright and keen. "Eat food, Seoho."

"I don't see why we can't do both," Seoho said, and with a final torturous grind, the pressure on Geonhak's dick abated and he wandered out of the bathroom.

He seemed so much better than he’d been yesterday that Geonhak figured he could probably take care of his own breakfast and got ready for his own shower.

He’d lied, a little bit, when he said he’d bought poppers for the occasion. Beyond the simple reality that there weren’t any sex shops within walking distance from his apartment, he’d had them for a while. His first attempts to finger himself were frustrating in a distinctly unsexy sort of way, and stressful enough that he figured he must be doing something wrong. To put it delicately: he’d had to do the kind of research that made him grateful for incognito browser modes. By now he’d gotten better enough at it that he didn’t need poppers to finger himself anymore, which meant his shower was half washing the funk of sex off of his body and half prep. Bottoming was, as far as Geonhak could tell with his experimentation with fingers and toys, a question of mind over matter. It wasn't easy, but if Seoho could do it, it meant it was possible for alphas.

Geonhak leaned against the tile and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the fluttery anticipation of what he was doing. He didn’t think he had the hang of making fingering fun for himself, but plenty of sex acts were boring when you did them to yourself. Still, he could admit the whole thing made him nervous. He just wasn’t used to it yet, that was all. He’d taken a dildo before— though only once, and he had the feeling it wasn’t as big as Seoho, to say nothing of the lack of a knot. Intimidating or not, committing to it like this was probably the best way to make sure he actually took the plunge. He’d probably enjoy it. He’d spent enough time reading personal accounts during his research to learn that Seoho wasn’t as unique of an alpha as he’d first assumed. At least, not in this way— plenty of alphas liked being fucked and prostate stimulation from the inside was supposed to be mindblowing. Based on how good it felt when Seoho pressed into his taint during a blowjob, Geonhak had hope.

Seoho was on his phone when Geonhak found him in the kitchen. His eyes flicked up, tracking slowly down Geonhak’s body. The scent of his rut swelled, filling the space between them.

Geonhak rolled his eyes. He never knew exactly what to do with Seoho’s clear interest in his physicality. He enjoyed the attention, but that only made him more nervous and fumbling when he tried to play it cool. "Keep it in your pants for like ten minutes, alright?"

"Can I be exempt if I’m not wearing pants?"

Yeah, he was definitely feeling better.

He did manage to keep it in his pants in the end. Somewhat. He was insistent on playing footsie while Geonhak ate, but every time Geonhak shot him a warning look, he was fixated on his phone, smiling beatifically. He got up before Geonhak did, stretching his arms high above his head and letting out a cute little grunt before he glanced over his shoulder to be sure that Geonhak was watching him.

It was somewhat gratifying that Geonhak couldn’t immediately follow after him— he had to clear their dirty dishes off the table, and then decided he might as well wash them while it was easiest.

Once the dishes were dripping dry in the rack, Geonhak returned to the bedroom. Seoho was flat on his back, idly stroking his cock.

"I had a feeling you’d make me wait."

"Did you?"

"So I foiled your plan by getting off in the shower before you woke up, and now I’m the picture of patience."

Geonhak laughed. "Is touching yourself just for show, then?"

Seoho grinned, reaching out for him as soon as Geonhak got on the bed. "It usually is."

They kissed, lazy and languid, until Seoho got greedy. He did his best to pull Geonhak closer, his hips rocking up into empty air. Geonhak resisted, too caught up in the fact that having used his soap and shampoo, Seoho smelled like him. He nuzzled under Seoho’s jaw, pretended it was permanent, and held his ground.

"Come on, stop teasing. You’re supposed to be making all of this easier on me, not being a brat."

Geonhak pulled away and adopted an expression of utter innocence. "What, you don’t like your own game?"

"You’re such an asshole!" The intensity of the declaration was undercut significantly by the fact that Seoho had to say it through giggles.

Geonhak kissed him hard, tasting his desire, and got up on his hands and knees. Seoho lit up, eyes bright with want. Even so, he seemed surprised when Geonhak got on top of him the wrong way. Maybe he’d only been joking about wanting to eat Geonhak out. All the nerves he’d managed to suppress surrounded him once more, all at once. Seoho hadn’t really said he wanted to, now that Geonhak thought about it. He was too far along to walk it back, though, with Seoho’s cock in front of his mouth and his ass in Seoho’s face. 

He heard Seoho swallow, and his voice was hushed with wonder when he spoke, "Oh, this is fun already."

The benefit to their position, Geonhak decided, was that Seoho couldn’t see how much his approval made Geonhak blush. Smiling to himself, Geonhak licked over the head of Seoho’s cock before trailing down his shaft.

Seoho took Geonhak’s balls into his mouth before anything else. Absurdly, that was reassuring. He’d done it before, sucking hard enough to make Geonhak’s toes curl, which meant that what they were about to do couldn’t be wholly unfamiliar. He worked up to his taint, scraping over it with the barest edges of his teeth. Leading up to it was reassuring, too. Seoho didn’t want to shock him with anything.

Rather than Seoho’s tongue, there was a dry brush across his hole. Fingers.

Geonhak started forward. "Don’t—!"

"Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t going to," Seoho said, and patted Geonhak’s thigh. "To clarify, you don’t want any touching?"

His impulsive reaction made him feel bashful. At least they weren't arranged with Seoho on his chest: his hammering heart could remain a private embarrassment. Geonhak swallowed, easing back again. This was an inherently ridiculous position to be in, he supposed. Lots of sex was. He just wasn’t used to this one, and there was only one solution for that.

"Touching is okay. But you can’t go in dry."

"I wouldn’t."

The truly embarrassing thing was that logically, Geonhak knew that. Seoho bungee jumped within the bounds of what he deemed acceptable behavior, but he never crossed certain lines. Geonhak wouldn’t begin to think about bottoming if he didn’t trust him. He couldn’t say that openly; Seoho tended to take sincerity as an invitation for humor. Still, Geonhak wanted him to know. "I was just startled."

Seoho laughed, but that didn’t bother Geonhak the way he was braced for. Seoho was in as much of an inherently ridiculous position as he was, and he liked it when Seoho laughed. Nothing fundamental between them had changed. Satisfied with the way of the world once more, Geonhak licked over his shaft again.

"You make me fucking crazy, you know that?" Seoho asked him, and dug his fingers into the meat of Geonhak’s thigh. Geonhak tried to make a sound to indicate he was listening, but the blunt pull of pain twisted it into a sharp moan. To his surprise, Seoho let out his own. "So buttoned up out there and so free with me. You’re like a wet dream." And without a single word of warning, Seoho sank his teeth into the scent gland on Geonhak’s inner thigh.

Geonhak cried out, his strength so suddenly liquid that his elbows gave out under him. His breath was quick and thin. Seoho’s fangs weren’t out again, but it hardly mattered in a place so tender and untouched. The pain was deep and radiating, sharp fire where his canines dug into Geonhak’s skin. At least, as far as the pain was indistinguishable from the pleasure. The cocktail of sensation plunged Geonhak into euphoria, only vaguely aware of his body as something other than a vessel for the feeling. 

When Seoho let go, he narrowly suppressed the urge to ask for more. He’d never had anyone bite any of his scent glands before and couldn’t believe what he’d been missing.

Seoho identified his interest all the same and said, "Guess I should get down here more often."

Geonhak could only laugh at himself; airy chuckles as he pushed himself up. He was hard now, and the heaviness of his cock between his spread legs felt humbling. His pleasure was at Seoho’s mercy: if Seoho didn’t deign to touch him, he wouldn’t be touched. Seoho sucked kisses along his thighs, working his way back up to Geonhak’s hole.

After a little online research, Geonhak had been afraid that rimming would be ticklish to him like it was for a handful of strangers, and was relieved to find that wasn't the case. Unfortunately, that was because it hardly felt like anything at all. He was aware of the wiggling wetness, but it was about as pleasurable as Seoho tonguing his elbow would be.

"You're not into this, are you?" Seoho asked after several minutes had passed.

"It's fine!" Geonhak protested. He could tolerate an odd but unobjectionable feeling if that was what Seoho wanted.

"Your blowjob game hasn't faltered at all."

That was pretty damning, which made it easier to admit, "It’s not doing much for me."

Seoho patted his thigh again. Like he was soothing a fucking horse. Geonhak was annoyed with himself for appreciating it. "It’s not for everyone."

Geonhak had to brace himself in order to make the words come out sounding casual. "You wanna finger me?"

The scent of Seoho’s arousal flared. "Hell yeah."

"Grab some lube and one of the bottles out of the top drawer for me?"

In hindsight, they probably should’ve gotten everything together before Geonhak got on top of Seoho in the world’s least dignified position. Seoho had to wiggle to the side, and it took some digging in the drawer before he pulled something out with a wordless, triumphant exclamation. Seoho pressed it into Geonhak’s hand, and he did his best to sit upright without actually sitting on Seoho’s face.

Geonhak’s heart was already pounding. He took a few deep breaths to prepare himself. Seoho pet down his flank, clearly trying to make him more at ease. It would work better if the room wasn’t clouding with the smell of his eager arousal; he wanted to be inside Geonhak badly. Geonhak plugged one nostril and held the bottle up to the other to take a long pull. Nothing longer than he’d done before, but he had the feeling he’d need more rather than less.

For a few seconds there was almost nothing, and then the headrush hit as quickly as the feeling of warmth that spread over his entire body. He’d seen people online talk about poppers as if they were honest-to-god aphrodisiacs, but that hadn’t been Geonhak’s experience. He didn’t turn into ‘a knotslut that can only think about getting fucked’ the way one forum poster had put it so eloquently. Between the rush and the warmth, though, it felt sensual. He wanted to be touched, in what way didn’t really matter as long as the contact was there.

Geonhak screwed the cap back on before passing the bottle to Seoho once more. His body felt liquid, as strong and sinuous as a river. Seoho dragged a hand down his back, settling on his hip with a squeeze. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

As soon as he’d bent over again, Seoho circled one fingertip around Geonhak’s hole. His heart leapt up into his throat in anticipation.

"Ah, you're so sensitive," Seoho chuckled in wonder.

Face burning, Geonhak figured that, just this once, it was in his best interest to ignore Seoho's praise. He narrowed his focus to Seoho’s cock, teasing him with his hand and lips until he was flushed and straining. While the thought of taking it into his body still felt vaguely impossible, Geonhak couldn’t deny the electricity in it: everyone wanted a big cock and a thick knot, but he was the only one who got to have it.

Seoho squeezed some lube over his fingers, and the slick warmth over his hole that followed made Geonhak’s breath catch. Seoho had to know he’d never had anyone else inside him, and he found himself grateful that Seoho wasn’t crowing about it. Though Geonhak could smell his excitement and intrigue, otherwise he was being uncharacteristically reserved. He’d mocked and teased Geonhak about countless things in their time together, which meant he was being quiet on purpose.

When Seoho pressed a finger inside, Geonhak imagined loosening all of the tension in his body like undoing tight boot laces. It wasn’t bad; he’d done a good job preparing himself in the shower and the poppers were certainly doing their job. Geonhak felt Seoho snub another finger up against his hole, prodding curiously until it sank inside the first. Seoho made a wounded noise and Geonhak tasted precum in his mouth.

Right. He was supposed to be blowing Seoho. Geonhak pulled off just enough to lick his lips and stretch his jaw before sinking down. He liked oral. He doubted other people saw it this way, but to him it was a cousin of breathplay. It was a question of stamina and limits; how far could he go before he had to tap out? He had long since gone past the usual limit when he realized his gag reflex hadn’t been triggered. Interesting. Geonhak couldn’t resist the chance to experiment and took Seoho in deep enough to feel the head of his cock nudging into his throat.

"Holy shit." Seoho was dazzled breathless. "When did you—?!"

Geonhak was in no position to reply, of course. Not that he had anything to add; it was a surprise to him, too. It hadn’t occurred to him to test his throat in all his experimentation with poppers. He sucked a deep breath in through his nose and dipped down further. His throat spasmed, swallowing instinctively against the intrusion.

"Fuck– fuck, pull off!"

Geonhak moved as quickly as he could while trying not to scrape Seoho with his teeth. As soon as the head of his cock slipped out of his lips, Seoho came. Some of it got on Geonhak’s lips and tongue, but most just spilled over his hand. Seoho’s cock jerked with each pulse, little bitten-off noises slipping between his teeth.

Once he was spent and panting, Geonhak looked over his shoulder to ask, "Since when do you not want me to swallow?"

Seoho grumbled, "I didn't want you to choke. Imagine trying to explain that to the paramedics."

While that made both of them laugh, Geonhak couldn’t help but wonder if his concern was heightened because of what had happened yesterday. He wondered if Seoho would ever want to choke him again. He’d have to remember to bring it up later.

Geonhak wiped his hand off on the sheets. Seoho was still hard, but it would be a shame to have to postpone something he’d been looking forward to just because Geonhak couldn’t resist getting him off again. So Geonhak let out a theatrical sigh instead. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"No, this is good. Now we can focus on learning what you like." Seoho crooked his fingers and Geonhak was struck with a feeling too blindingly intense to register anything else about it. Whether it was good or bad was impossible to tell when there was so much of it. 

"Gonna take a wild guess that that was too direct."

Geonhak opened his eyes — when had he closed them? — and found himself curled over, muscles shaking. "Yeah, I think so."

"That won’t happen with me inside you, by the way."

"How are you so certain of that?"

"Because." Geonhak could hear the shit-eating grin. "I’m too big. I’ll be going past your prostate, not nailing it."

"That’s— good."

"If it sounds better than this, we might as well see how it goes. It’s not like you need any more prep." When Seoho slipped his fingers free, Geonhak felt like he was gaping. He knew he wasn’t; the first two times he’d used the poppers he’d ended up checking in the mirror. Seoho knew by feel what he’d learned through experience: he was ready to take more than just fingers.

Geonhak rolled off and onto his stomach. He said, quite honestly, "I've been looking forward to the part where I just get to lie here and let you fuck me."

"No, get up."

"What?!" Geonhak feigned outrage.

"It's your first time, you should control the pace."

Geonhak couldn’t see the connection. "...Okay?"

"Ride me."

Geonhak’s knot throbbed the way it always did when Seoho gave him orders like that, careless and certain, like he already knew that Geonhak was going to listen to him. In fairness, he was right. Geonhak had to suppress his natural instincts, his desire to pin Seoho down and take him. It wasn’t what was called for this time.

"You just want me to do all the work," Geonhak said as he pushed himself back up.

Seoho crawled past him to flop down on his back and grinned. "Am I that easy to read?"

Geonhak had gotten on top of Seoho before. He’d pinned his knees up by his shoulders or wrestled him down with Seoho giggling in his ear. He’d never gotten in his lap before and found it stranger than he expected, suddenly unsure where to put his ankles so they wouldn’t get in the way later.

Seoho scraped blunt nails down his thighs and the familiarity of the stinging burn settled Geonhak’s nerves. Any further hesitation melted away when Seoho smiled at him, delighted and eager. Yeah. He’d been right to offer; it was only fair for Seoho to have what he got so often.

Seoho’s hands trailed up his stomach until he was touching his chest, fingertips only just skirting Geonhak’s tattoo. "What's the date for?"

For once, Geonhak did everything he could not to think about that day. "It's— not important."

Breezing past the fact that it was the worst lie he'd ever told, it was quite possibly the worst lie Geonhak had ever heard. Nobody got a date tattooed for unimportant things. Seoho regarded him, his brow furrowed. Geonhak felt the seconds tick by like numbers on a bomb. Even if Seoho attempted to defuse it, the atmosphere of the day could be damaged beyond repair. It wasn't the sort of thing you talked about right before getting fucked for the first time.

Seoho said, "I got my lip pierced because the jewelry was on sale."

Geonhak let out a shuddering breath. Not defused, but sidestepped regardless. "It suits you."

"So does the ink."

Geonhak ducked his head to hide his smile and reached back to hold Seoho's cock steady.

"Ready?" Seoho asked him. He sounded chipper, but he smelled concerned. Not for the first time, Geonhak thought about how much nicer Seoho was than he believed he was.

"As long as you go back to being the picture of patience, I can do this."

Seoho crossed his wrists over each other above his head. The smile he gave Geonhak could almost be classified as tender.

The moment of penetration was utterly unremarkable. He almost regretted the poppers for making it easier than it should be. He liked the prep time with Seoho. Usually, they had to be deliberate about exploring pleasure with each other; they had to agree to it over and over again before they ever got a taste.

Geonhak rocked down until his legs were trembling and pulled up again. Seoho felt so solid inside him, and there was a particular heat and drag to him that couldn't be replicated in silicone. For a moment he considered squeezing to compare the give of him against the toys he’d used, but he had the feeling it would make it all the more difficult to relax.

Hands planted on Seoho’s chest, Geonhak eased himself down, just a little further than the first time. He had to be patient, too, but that didn’t mean it was impossible. He just had to get used to the pressure, to the sparking sensitivity that crackled up through his spine. Seoho’s lips parted when he moved. Geonhak wanted to kiss him, to taste what he was making him feel. He didn’t trust himself to be able to bear the change of angle.

To his credit, Seoho held still. Occasionally his cock pulsed inside of Geonhak, but that was all. He didn’t remark on the time, even though Geonhak was painfully aware of how much longer it took for him than it ever did for Seoho. When Seoho sat on his dick it was a brief, even slide; Geonhak had to take it in stages with little pauses between each one. His thighs were already killing him, but that didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him.

He was simultaneously relieved and apprehensive to feel the gradual swell of Seoho’s knot. "Almost there." His voice was breathless and punched out, as if he was doing far more than simply having Seoho inside him.

He hadn't even taken Seoho's knot and already it felt like Seoho was in his throat, and—

From under the arm he'd thrown across his eyes, Seoho said, "Hak, just…"

"Yeah?" Geonhak replied, ever-grateful for any advice that could be offered.

"Just don't bother."

Geonhak froze.

Inadequacy was a more familiar emotional companion than he was proud of. It boiled up in him with all the boldness of something that had paved its roads many long years ago. Though he'd thought — hoped , so, so foolishly — that he could put sexual inadequacies behind him. Yet here he was, muscles quivering with the effort of trying to be what Seoho needed, and he was exactly as impotent as he'd been with omegas.

He felt clumsy when he got off of Seoho, like all of his limbs were suddenly the wrong size. The feeling of lube, tacky on the insides of his thighs and leaking from his ass made his stomach turn. He couldn't remember why he thought he'd be good at this. He wasn't even passable, wasn't worth the time it took to try.

He tried to say something about going to clean up, but his tongue got so tangled in the words he couldn't tell if he'd said anything intelligible.

In the bathroom, Geonhak avoided the mirror and tried to use toilet paper to clean off the mess of lube, like getting rid of that would take away the feeling of empty failure along with it.

Unable to stand how vulnerable his nakedness felt, he fished some underwear out of the laundry hamper, covering up the mocking obscenity of his flagging erection. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, gripping it so tightly his knuckles went white. His eyes traced along the lines of grout in the tile at his feet. Seoho made it look so easy, and instead of admiring him for it, Geonhak had overestimated his own capabilities and made a fool of himself. 

He shouldn't have pushed, should've let Seoho take care of his rut on his own the way he'd wanted to. Now he was stuck here with Geonhak, who couldn't do anything to fix the inferno of need howling through his veins.

A hesitant knock on the door made him start, so on edge one of his heels jerked back into the tub with an embarrassingly loud Bang!

"Hak? Did… did I hurt you?"

Not the way you think.

Met with silence, Seoho continued. "It's not your fault if I did. Bottoming takes a lot of practice, I shouldn't have let you dive right in. I know I should've been more careful with you. I'm sorry."

"You didn't hurt me."

A pause. Then, carefully, "You've been in there for a while." 

Fuck.

"...And you smell terrible."

Geonhak let out a bark of harsh, ugly laughter. His stomach felt like it was tying itself into knots. "Wow, thanks."

"Shit, no, I-I meant you seem upset."

Was this what they did now? Talk about their feelings? How strange. How kind.

The words were sludgy, hard to force out of his mouth past the shame clogging his throat. The emptiness in his core threatened to swallow him whole. "I wanted to do something good for you."

The light at the bottom of the door shifted, shadowed on one half as if Seoho had slid down to the floor to sit as close to Geonhak as he could. "Everything you've done for me has been good. Nobody's ever taken care of me like this, you have no idea how—"

"Seoho."

"Sorry." Seoho fell silent. Waiting.

Geonhak tried unsuccessfully to breathe through the tightness in his chest. He could be honest about this, couldn’t he? "I like what we do, but I hate that you’re always putting in the most work. I wanted to even the scales before you started to resent me."

"I don't resent you." Seoho was scornful of the very idea.

"For now," Geonhak muttered. 

"Stop it, you don't get to tell me what I feel, especially when it hasn't fucking happened yet."

"Okay."

A long sigh. "I like what we do, too, okay?"

"But it's so much effort for you."

"I'd be putting in the effort no matter who I was fucking, because I like bottoming."

After a long silence, Geonhak confessed in a quiet, reedy voice he hoped made it through the door, "I wanted to like it."

The light at the bottom of the door shifted again. He wondered if Seoho was staring at the floor the same way that he was, tracing wood grain rather than grout.

"...Geonhak, I think it's okay if we do different things for each other, because we're not the same people."

It was a remarkably reasonable statement for a man who spent most of his time finding new ways to get under his father's skin.

Geonhak let out a long breath and forced himself to let his shoulders drop. Gradually, the tension seeped from his body. "When I'm inside you," he began, keenly aware that he never could've said it if they were face to face. They didn’t talk about this kind of thing. "I feel more powerful and free than I ever have in my life."

He could catch Seoho's scent now, curling warm and fresh even through the sharp smell of his rut. He was pleased, maybe a little flattered. 

Geonhak cleared his throat. "I want you to have that, too."

Seoho made a soft, unidentifiable noise. "Geonhak, I do. That's exactly how I feel when you're inside me."

At first that seemed impossible, but Geonhak shoved past that certainty and tried to find the common ground Seoho claimed was there. If it was like choking, it could be. Seoho had never asked Geonhak to choke him, and he’d never wanted to. Some scales didn’t need to be even to be enjoyed. So maybe it wasn't a feeling inherent to topping in their relationship, maybe the feeling came from doing what felt good, and right, and natural, and being allowed the space to feel that. Maybe it was more about the celebration of their shared desire than the act.

"I know I was an asshole yesterday." Seoho's voice shrank a little, until it was barely audible through the door. "Probably today, too."

It didn't feel like it was Geonhak's place to comment on such a thing, so he kept his defenses on Seoho’s behalf to himself.

"But I'm not— missing out on fucking you. It sounded fun because most things sound fun with you. That's all."

Despite the door between them, for once, the ocean didn’t feel so wide. Nearer than they’d ever been before, Geonhak didn’t dare speak. 

"I'm going to the hot tub, okay?" Seoho said softly.

By the time Geonhak mustered up enough courage to reply, he was pretty sure that Seoho was already gone: the light under the door was an unbroken beam. It took a while longer to mend the scraps of his dignity enough for him to be comfortable being seen again. Geonhak stood up and groaned. Of course his ass was sore from sitting on a fucking bathtub rather than getting fucked. He made himself walk around the bedroom until his stride was back to normal, afraid of giving Seoho a very wrong idea.

When he finally stepped outside, Seoho was taking up as much of the hot tub as his sprawled body could manage, head resting on the edge and the rest of him floating diagonally. He was naked, smelling of chlorine, and hard. He had one hand resting on his cock, idly drawing his fingers back and forth along his shaft. 

His eyes opened when he heard Geonhak's footsteps, blinking up at him with a winning smile. Geonhak's shame-chilled heart began to beat a little faster.

"Hey," Seoho said, and made no moves to make room for Geonhak to join him.

"Hey."

Geonhak sat down beside him on the raised deck that bordered the tub and dipped one hand into the water.

"You probably shouldn't get in unless you want to pass out," Seoho told him. "Poppers and hot tubs both lower your blood pressure so they're kind of an either-or scenario rather than doing both at once."

Geonhak couldn't help but smile. "You're smarter than you pretend to be."

"I like surprising people."

Geonhak tugged on a lock of Seoho's hair. "Thanks. For looking out for me."

Seoho flicked water off of his hand and watched the droplets scatter and disappear into the bubbling surface. "It's whatever."

Geonhak couldn’t resist pressing further, since settling back into their usual dynamic made it feel like they’d be okay. "It's very responsible alpha of you is what it is."

Seoho made a soft, annoyed noise. He flicked at the water itself, the tiny bloop barely audible over the sound of the jets.

"What?" Geonhak asked, equally amused as he was curious.

"I think it's just a human trait. Anyone can be anything, you know? And you can’t know that without knowing them, assuming that truly knowing someone is even possible."

Geonhak knew from experience that pointing out that Seoho was philosophizing would only make him stop. He did his best to sound casual, like the topic wasn’t anything special. "What about bonded pairs?"

Seoho rolled over in the water, folding his arms on the ledge of the hot tub and looking out across the city. His skin had pinked in the heat, a full body blush that Geonhak was mildly disappointed to know he couldn’t take credit for. "What about them?"

"They probably truly know each other, right?"

Seoho shrugged. "I guess. I don’t really think about that stuff."

Geonhak regretted bringing it up. He had much better ways to indulge his masochistic streak than by trying to leverage Seoho into admitting he wanted what Geonhak did. At least he had enough sense not to push any further. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I could have hoped," Seoho replied cheerfully. "I think it's going away."

"How long does it usually last?"

"If I'm lucky? Three days. If I'm not, maybe a week."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

Geonhak dragged his hand through the water, watching how the refractions distorted his fingers. "Sorry we couldn't knock more time off of your sentence."

"It's fine. I kept my expectations low, so I'm feeling great about how things went."

"...Really? Even with—"

"Really." Under the chemical burn of the chlorine in his nose, Geonhak caught the honey-sweet edges of Seoho's scent for the first time since he'd arrived. When he looked up from his hand, Seoho was watching him. His voice was soft, affectionate in a way Geonhak rarely heard. "How are you feeling?" 

"I’m okay."

"Seriously."

Geonhak coughed out a laugh. His face was getting warm, both from the sun and his embarrassment. "I’m not proud of being all bark and no bite, but it’s fine. You were right. It wasn’t a good idea to jump into something so new without practice."

"Gimme a second, I’m memorizing how it feels for you to tell me I’m right."

Geonhak splashed water in his face. Seoho sputtered, but he was smiling when he wiped a hand over his face. "Listen, I’m really not trying to be mean, but you look fucking exhausted."

Geonhak chuckled. He straightened up, squaring his shoulders, and felt how weariness pulled at his muscles when he did. His eyes felt itchy in the bright sunlight, his lids heavy. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty wiped."

"You’ve been doing a pretty good job at keeping up with me, considering you aren’t in rut."

"I’ve done my best."

"I know." The two words settled, fluttering, in Geonhak’s chest. He couldn’t speak. He watched the water ripple around his fingers. Seoho appeared suddenly in his vision, trying to catch his eye. "Maybe you should lie down or something."

Usually, Geonhak hated it when other alphas told him what to do in ways that implied they found him as fallible as the rest of humanity; it wounded his pride and only served to encourage defiance. Usually he wasn’t desperate for them to care about him.

"Wake me up if you need me?"

Seoho gave him a sharp salute, scattering water over both of them. The warmth of his smile settled in Geonhak’s bones, following him back inside. Normally he would towel off before getting into bed, but since he had to wash these sheets anyway it didn’t seem worth the bother. He drew the blackout curtains and the sudden darkness was immediately soothing. Seoho had been right. Again. Geonhak got into bed and turned over the question of whether or not to tell him that until he stopped being able to think of much at all.

Right as he teetered along the edge between waking and sleeping, he felt the bed dip.

"Hey," Seoho said, not quite whispering. He lay down, resting his head on Geonhak’s bicep.

"Mm?"

The familiar tease in Seoho's voice was almost as good as having the warmth of his body so easily within reach. "Be a good alpha and spoon me."

Geonhak did what he was told.

~

Geonhak drifted awake to Seoho grinding on his hip and the smell of summer blooming through the fading traces of rut.

They’d shifted in their sleep, Geonhak now on his back with Seoho along his side, his face tucked under Geonhak’s jaw. They were sticky with sweat, but the smell of the hot tub had faded. In the bed they’d spent so much of the rut in, all Geonhak could smell was them. The arm around Seoho was tingly, not quite numb. Seoho’s hand resting on his stomach was clawed, but lax. Seoho’s hips worked against Geonhak, grinding from his thigh up to his hipbone. He was growling deep in his chest, a rough, ragged sound that lit Geonhak up from the inside.

"Hey." Geonhak pinched Seoho's side.

"Fuck you," Seoho mumbled, and half-heartedly tried to twist away. "I was having a great dream."

"I bet you were."

Seoho tried to glare at him, but not even his striking shifter’s eyes could make up for the endearing scrunch of his face and Geonhak just wound up laughing. Seoho grumbled some wordless condemnation of Geonhak’s callousness and nestled his face back into the crook of his neck.

"Wanna get off?"

Another noise, this time one of wanton greed. He smelled spicy, like arousal and impatience.

"Give me some room."

Seoho was clearly reluctant to part with Geonhak, and he returned into his arms as soon as Geonhak was on his side, facing him. The hickey that Geonhak had left on his neck had faded with the scratches on his arms, but it was still there, just a little. Greenish yellow, spreading along the elegant arch of his neck.

"You’re beautiful," Geonhak breathed without thinking, unable to hold it back.

He expected an eyeroll, but Seoho scowled at him. The force of his golden gaze pinned Geonhak in place. "Don’t make fun of me."

Geonhak couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to stroke along the lush pout of his lower lip. "I’m really, really not."

Still a little leery, Seoho ducked back under Geonhak’s jaw. His breath tickled over the skin, raising the hair on Geonhak’s back and arms. He shifted, hips searching for friction. With Geonhak in boxer briefs and Seoho bare, it took a little arranging before they were lined up well enough to frot against each other. As much as he loved touching Seoho, a barrier between them was thrilling. The fabric felt rough against the wet head of his cock, gliding and scraping over his shaft with each movement of their hips.

He felt Seoho wake up, bowing right where Geonhak’s arms went around his waist, pressing his chest and hips against Geonhak in turns. His breath got heavier, the tips of his claws barely edging into Geonhak’s skin. When Geonhak tipped his face up with a finger under his chin, his kisses were deep and dirty; his tongue licked into Geonhak’s mouth and his sharp canines sunk into Geonhak’s lips. It was rough, yet sensual. Easy, rolling movement ending in rough grinds that stole Geonhak’s breath away.

"Let me just—" Seoho let the sentence hang, unfinished, and reached between them to drag Geonhak’s underwear down. Not too much, just far enough to get his cock out and hold them together with the elastic biting into Geonhak’s thighs. While their precum made it easy to grind together, there wasn’t enough slickness to eliminate the friction, the sweet, mellow burn of Seoho’s skin dragging against his own.

Seoho held them down low, just above their knots, and circled his into Geonhak’s. It drew a curse out of Geonhak’s mouth immediately, his fingers digging into the small of Seoho’s back. Pleasure spiked each time their knots bumped together. He already knew that the rolling pressure was more than enough to get him off and was relieved when Seoho’s hand slid up, holding them together just under the crowns of their cocks.

"Does it bother you that I'm bigger than you?"

It was so unexpected that Geonhak laughed. "No, not at all."

"No?"

Geonhak tried to look down, to see them clutched in Seoho’s hand, but the tangerine blur of Seoho’s hair was in the way. "I like it."

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Seoho purred.

"No, it's not—" Geonhak had to take a moment to think about how to clarify his position. It didn’t help that Seoho didn’t stop moving, his knot catching on Geonhak’s about every third time they fucked into Seoho’s hand. "It doesn't do anything for me thinking about being smaller. What gets me heated is thinking about how big you are. It's sexy. I like your cock."

Seoho collapsed into laughter, so weak with amusement that he melted into Geonhak’s arms and nearly let go of their cocks.

"This shouldn't be a surprise!" Geonhak insisted, fighting a smile.

Seoho lifted his head, still beaming. "I've just never had anyone tell me that so earnestly."

"Well, I earnestly do."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I like your cock, too."

"Yeah?" Seoho had changed him beyond recognition: now he was a man who solicited compliments about his dick.

"It's thick, which feels fucking amazing, you have no idea." Geonhak didn’t have to imagine, if Seoho’s dreamy tone was anything to go by. Geonhak knew that people tended to like his girth. Even Seoho had said it before, but not like this. Not sincerely. And not now, with the implication that during all his rut-induced misery, it had been enough for him. That Geonhak had done right by him.

He must have mistaken Geonhak's pause as a desire for further elaboration. "Can hardly get my hand around both of us. We're a matched set, don't you think?"

"Yes." It was too honest, but if Seoho minded, it was impossible to tell. To have such honesty taken in stride made Geonhak’s heart hurt, and he leaned in for a kiss. It seemed logical to imagine that there would be a day that kissing Seoho didn’t feel like a revelation, but he didn’t believe it would be any time soon. Kissing Seoho felt easier and more right than most of the things he’d done in his life. He smelled more like himself now, all sweet-spicy-sour the way that Geonhak expected him to be.

Seoho’s hand shifted again, grinding their knots together. It must have been for Geonhak’s benefit, though pleasing him seemed to have quite an effect on Seoho: when Geonhak moaned, his cock pulsed, grip tightening a moment as if he wanted to press them together in a way that could never be undone.

Geonhak didn’t have time to admonish himself for his wishful thinking. Seoho's teeth found Geonhak's throat and worried at the thin skin in a way that made Geonhak see stars. He was so close to Geonhak's scent gland, so close to accepting all of what Geonhak was painfully ready to offer him. 

"Did you think I'd have to fuck you to make you come on my knot?" Seoho’s lips skimmed over his skin and his voice was deliciously, tantalizingly low.

His elongated canines scraped just right, and Geonhak came so hard his vision blurred. The sticky smell of honey burst into the room with the smell of Seoho’s cum right on its heels. Just like they did when Geonhak was inside him, they’d set each other off near instantly. Before Seoho, Geonhak had always believed that kind of thing was a myth.

When the pleasure had wrung him out and Geonhak returned to his senses, Seoho was laughing. "Finally."

Geonhak’s heart still pounded. Seoho’s infectious relief bled into him, but the pride was all his own. "You think it’s…?"

"Yep. We’ve moved on to the stage where I sleep on you for seven weeks. Cancel all your plans," Seoho said. He groaned, stretched, and flopped his top half onto Geonhak’s chest, pressing him back flat against the bed once more. Some people were annoyed by that sort of thing, but not Geonhak. Not when it was Seoho.

Since he’d kept forgetting to set out a washcloth to clean up all the bodily fluids, they really could get stuck together for seven weeks. He’d make them get up later. For now, it did seem like Seoho intended to sleep. He’d certainly earned it.

Seoho mumbled something into Geonhak's collarbone.

"Hm?"

"For looking out for me. Thank you."

If he wasn't so sleepy, Geonhak would be certain he was purposefully repeating what he himself had said earlier that day, right before he told Seoho he was a good alpha. He ran his hand through Seoho's hair, tucking a sweaty lock behind his ear. If ignoring how he felt would make it go away, it would have happened by now. Naming the ache in his chest couldn't give it any more power over him than it already held. Denial or not, he'd been helpless to it for some time now.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he decided to say the words that wanted to be said. "It wasn't any trouble. I like taking care of you."

And when Seoho only giggled in response, Geonhak didn't tell him it hadn't been a joke.

Falling in love wasn't an inevitability like getting thrown out of a plane or driving off a cliff. It wasn't anything as sudden as that, not for Geonhak. It was more like sinking down into water after you stopped struggling to stay afloat and unaffected; as gradual as it was all-consuming. He didn't have a lot of fight left in him, if any remained at all. 

So with nothing else to breathe in but the smell of Seoho's rut breaking, Geonhak decided to let himself drown.