Archive of Our Own

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

Sometimes, Jo dreams.

It’s not like he’s never dreamed before. He’s dreamt of many, countless things in his life. Dreams were especially familiar to him during his trainee days, when he’s still trying to climb the stairs of stardom to make himself known. When he puts himself on a stage, fighting with those who share the same dream as him. To carve his name somewhere in the endless expanse of the world, filled with countless people who would never see him nor his efforts.

Dreams were his heart's way of telling him that it wanted something. That it yearned so, so much that it pierced right through his subconscious. Like how a crack in the wall would allow air to be sucked in.

So, tonight too, Jo drifts into a dream after many, many nights without one.

It’s quiet. 

There’s nothing around him but the bleak, dark walls of a square shaped room. Jo feels that his height and body might be too large—occupying this room feels uncomfortable and strangely claustrophobic. As if he’ll hit his head if he were to stand up.

Wait. 

Has he been sitting this whole time?

Jo can’t tell. And yet, his hands stay put on his lap, one on top of the other. He keeps his posture upright and polite like he’s always been taught to, with his legs folded neatly beneath the weight of his shell. Seiza.

It took him a moment to notice the plate in the center of the room, right in front of him.

The first thing Jo notices is the tint of red the thing placed on the plate has. 

A deep, intense red. It screams for his attention. It dawned upon him that what he’s looking at is a slab of raw meat. The chuck of meat looks cleanly cut even if its size is rather big for a medium-sized plate. There are no signs of blood splatters–or anything to indicate that this cut of meat was taken from something until just recently. 

Even if it looks fresh. 

Even if it smells fresh. 

It looks as if it just somehow appeared out of thin air, clean and cut precisely for show.

For a while, Jo just stares at the uncanny display before him, unsure of what he feels.

.

Not too long after, Jo wakes up with his stomach empty and face cold from sweat. 

It’s not weird for him to wake up in the middle of the night due to sudden hunger. Sometimes, some of the members also get woken up to get their fill of snacks at the crack of dawn especially during their busy period when their schedules were so full they couldn’t keep track of what time they last ate. Not without an earful from their managers, though.

So Jo rises up from his bed, opens the door quietly, and sneaks into the kitchen to scout for anything he can eat before he goes back to sleep. 

His wolf makes a small, worried sound to remind him that he should be extra careful when opening each cabinet, so he does just that. He carefully moves each object that obstructed his view to the side, taking into account each of its material and what’s best to do to reduce noise made upon contact.

He finds an onigiri wrapped neatly behind a half-empty lunchbox in the fridge and decides to enjoy it. He’s thankful that even at this time, he’s able to take his time eating it to satiate his hunger and thirst for the night so he can sleep peacefully after, and then decides to go back to his room once he finished.

This wasn't the first time Jo had woken up hungry and wanted something to eat.

But dreaming about a pound of fresh meat was a first.

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

For a group consisting mainly of Alphas, they are rather stable. Perhaps it’s because of their differing personalities and how well they mix with each other to compensate for what they lacked–and somehow, they came to be a well balanced group. Amongst the older members, there are 2 Alphas—Yudai and Fuma—Nicholas being an Omega, and Euijoo a Beta. Each of them has managed to find a way to work together despite the stressful environment (the two oldest being Alphas can be worrying), safe from the fact that both pairs are in a relationship. It could, theoretically, turn sour any time now, especially with a Beta chosen as the leader of the group in favor of the two older Alphas, and yet, it never happened. 

The fact that they found a middle ground is what makes the whole thing impressive. 

But it’s a different story with the rest of the members–the younger ones, so to say. Yuma is a Beta, completing the Beta duo in the pack. Jo is an Alpha–so are Harua, Maki, and Taki, the newly presenting younger Alphas. Their dynamics can get pretty messy due to hormonal changes, especially with the two recently presenting younger members. But all in all, the older members are what’s keeping the group stable and grounded.

Yudai, the eldest, is a charming Alpha. While he’s not in charge of the group officially, he always keeps an eye on the other members, especially the younger ones. It helps that his nature is playful and so is his wolf. Despite its love of challenge, Yudai is never one to assert his authority nor heaps of experience over his members. He only does so when necessary–when the members’ play rough gets too far, or when they’re all in a tight corner. A gentle reminder. And even so, Fuma is usually just right behind him to keep the youngsters in check.

Fuma is somewhat the opposite of Yudai. If Yudai’s light shines wherever he goes, Fuma is reserved only for certain times. He’s a more grounded, firmer Alpha–which has earned him the loving title of “Father of the Pack” from his members. His toughness—his sometimes too menacing wolf—lies in wait just right beneath his soft rounded features, and it makes him no less endearing. If Yudai gets to scold the members affectionately for joking around, Fuma is the one that sometimes plays along with their antics, but that still doesn’t erase the fact that he will drag or smack them lightly the next time they get too mischievous.

Euijoo is a true Beta if that title truly exists. He’s level headed, calm, and calculative. He organizes and leads the group, and he wields his authority in a way that does not threaten the Alphas. While a Beta with a position like Euijoo might pose a challenge—especially to newly presented Alphas like Taki and Maki—it's helpful that Euijoo can still deliver his stern reprimands while maintaining his (shameful) affection for his members. Most of the time, he gets the members to talk, then he listens with just as much if not more attention anyone can give him. He indulges them enough to be comfortable with him and to not consider him a threat. Euijoo knows just when to be serious, and when to be loose and forgiving.

Nicholas, being the only Omega in the group, soaks in unparalleled confidence, which Harua is trying to follow. They’ve always bonded with the same love for fashion and it makes Harua follow Nicholas around like a baby chick sometimes. Nicholas carries himself with just as much assertiveness an Alpha would. He could easily fool people of being one if his sweet, strawberry scent wasn’t telling them otherwise. Like Yudai, he’s playful, impish and a tease in a way a cat would be, and that makes him the perfectly relatable but reliable older brother figure the group needs (not to say that the former 3 aren’t). As Euijoo’s mate, Nicholas is the one to remind Euijoo exactly when he needs to cut some slack. Their banter can get a little gross, but it is especially endearing within the group even if Harua makes constant gagging noises 5 meters within their PDA radius. And it’s not just Harua–almost all of the members, Jo included, has their eyes twitching the second they’re stuck like gums with each other.

Harua, Taki, and Maki, are all recently presenting Alphas. Within the group, they serve a good balance and dynamic of being youthful Alphas that haven't fully gotten what it means to be one yet. Sure, they learn from Alphas like Yudai, Fuma, and sometimes even Jo, but what makes them all endearing is the fact that they're still figuring out who they are. This means they're still learning to control their pheromones, their tone of voice, and even how they interact with their two Betas and their lone Omega hyung.

Yuma, surprisingly, presents as Beta. Amongst the other members, he’s the one with the most surprising result even if he himself never really minded it. It wouldn’t have been too mind boggling if he was an Alpha or an Omega with the way he carries himself like he was born solely for the stage. A star. 

Yuma’s beta isn’t too different from him. It’s bold, daring, and it despises being told what to do–all those qualities could easily check him as an Alpha, and a dominant one at that. If Euijoo’s a true Beta, Yuma’s one that makes you question just what defines you as your subgender. He’s the opposite of a textbook Beta. “Alpha, Beta, or Omega… it doesn’t really change the kind of person you are.” Yuma had said once, rich with his particular laidback vehemence when they were all huddled together in the living room. His little snaggletooth poked through the corner of his lips as he grinned when the hyungs praised his maturity.

And Yuma’s right. 

His spoken out honesty made Jo think about what exactly made him an Alpha. Which moment in his life had led him to this point.

For an Alpha, Jo is strangely docile. He’s quite fine with putting up with things and recognizing who’s at the top of the ladder. Who’s above him. For an Alpha, he accepts easily. That more or less is already a gift on its own, but it’s also a little concerning with the fact that he’s sharing a space with other Alphas that may or may not have put his wolf at risk. 

Sure, he’s never once felt threatened, rarely put in a place where he has to act like an Alpha, but it feels as if he’s silencing himself. As if he had put a muzzle around his wolf willingly–defanged, its weapons taken away. Even so, it stayed still. It stayed the same since the day he first presented.

It’s scary that Jo never really minded it. At least he thinks he doesn’t.

For as long as he remembers breathing, Asakura Jo has practised self-restraint. He never asks, never pushes—just indulges and lets everything soak into him like every system in his body were a sponge. Every gesture he made was buried beneath years of well practiced patience and restraint.

His wolf is the same, ever so patient in the face of pressure. Even in the face of pressure.

It doesn't help that Yuma became his boyfriend recently. 

Yuma, whose whole existence is the exact opposite of Jo.

With his rut drawing closer, Jo’s not sure how much longer he can hold himself together.

.

.

.

How they got into a relationship is funny, but also very… Jo and Yuma.

They were out to have dinner, just the two of them, because the other members were all knocked out–dead asleep and lost in the tangles of each other’s bodies right after they reached the dorm. Preparing for a comeback is never easy. Sometimes, it gets so tiring that they all dozed off before they could even reach their own rooms. 

It was almost midnight, so searching for a restaurant that’s still open is a bit hard. They had to drag their legs out for a 20 minute walk, filling each minute with small talks that barely even registered in Jo’s head. There were too many distractions: the cold wind, the dazzling nightscape of the city, and above all, the man walking beside him, whose unwavering brilliance shone through the blanket of night sky.

Their conversation was a bit awkward. It’s always that way for the two.

It’s almost like it’ll curse them both if they start talking about something serious when it’s just the two of them, and none of them had felt bothered enough to cross that border. So the small talk (about the seemingly, always “nice” weather, what they do during their free times lately, so on and so forth) continues even when they’re inside a small restaurant with tables only for two and they’re forced to either look at their food or at each other during what feels like an eternity. They chose to be the first.

That is, until Yuma, perfectly sober, casually asked: “Jo, d’you think I’m attractive?”

Jo froze.

He placed the chopsticks he was about to put in his mouth on top of his rice bowl. 

It’d be a lie to say that Jo didn’t find Yuma attractive. It’d be particularly appalling to say that he isn’t attracted to Nakakita Yuma. It’s almost like it’s a universal rule to find the cat-like guy in front of him attractive in the first place. 

It’s not the first time Yuma or anyone has asked him that question, given the fact that they’ve done many reality shows now. But the way Yuma asked him felt oddly intimate when it’s just the two of them sharing a meal in the hush of the night.

“Yes,” Jo sputters, trying to find the right words, “I actually think you’re very attractive.” He nodded at the end of what’s basically a confession. Always very honest.

Yuma smiles. The curve of his lips tells Jo that Yuma had expected that answer from him, but the way Yuma fiddles with the long, ribbed knit cuffs of his layered sweater tells him otherwise.

“Then,” Yuma began, “Want to try dating?” He blinked quickly, not looking Jo in the eyes as he chugged his cup completely empty. Seconds after, as if trying to clarify, he continued: “If you’re wondering, I also think you’re… really handsome.” The newly budding shyness in those words sounded out of place for someone as confident as Yuma–how his tongue rolls each word like he’s been itching to say it even if some sort of shamefulness ended up holding him back and making him sound like a nervous wreck.

He still hadn’t looked Jo in the eyes ever since they arrived at the restaurant.

Jo blinked. He’s not sure if showing his desperation by deliberately saying yes will make the Beta impressed even with the fact that they’ve known each other for years now, but he never thought that his interest in the other will ever be returned. He always thought that it’d be unrequited–but look where that got him now?

“Uh…” Clumsily, Jo looked down at his hands. Like something will manifest out of thin air. Nothing appeared. So he joined his hands together and brought it up to the table, as if the act would give him strength.

And it did, because a beat later, he found his hands moving to reach Yuma’s. “Yes. I would like that.” Jo added, smooth, gentle and very Jo. He wasn’t sure if his ears were burning up because of the cold night air or because of the embarrassment inching out of his skin. 

Then, for the first time since they entered the restaurant, Yuma looked into Jo’s eyes. Slightly.

A crooked smile tugged on Yuma’s lips when he met Jo’s hands under the soft fabric of his ribbed knit sweater. It was warm.

“Cool. I’ll be in your care, then.”

.

.

.

Eight months later, their dynamic didn’t really change.

Yuma doesn’t act that differently after they begin dating. He’s still the same guy with way too much impulsive tendencies of teasing and pushing the other members over the edge whenever he feels like it, and he’s never been subtle about it either. The only difference now is that he’s constantly orbiting around Jo and he feels no need to shy away from needing his boyfriend’s touch. Before, Yuma would only physically tease Jo for a maximum of a minute, but now, he stays near him like how a cat would near its owner for just a drop of attention. He lets himself linger near Jo, stealing more hidden little touches whenever he can even at the cost of the other members’ reactions.

So, Jo tries to settle in his situation normally, because this is normal. Having your boyfriend tucked in the space between your legs as you two sit on the family sofa while he plays with your hands is normal.

All of the members are gathered in the living room, basking in the joy commonly known as the day off. Right now, Euijoo, Taki, and Yudai are hogging the switch in an intense battle of Mario Kart. 

They claimed their goal was to teach Yudai about next-generation technology even after the eldest tried to defend himself by saying he'd known the game growing up. But, the rest of the members watching him know just how bad he is at the game each time he accidentally reversed his cart instead of hitting the turbo button. Taki was particularly entertained by Yudai's explosive laughter even when he’s the one screwing up in the game, while Euijoo sometimes also offers generous chuckles even if his eyes are dead set on the screen to finish the course. He’s currently first place after all, and Nicholas praying for his downfall made him give it his all to win.

Watching Euijoo's character get blown away by Yudai's rocket, Jo feels the corners of his mouth turn up and titters. At the same time, however, he feels the way Yuma’s fingers brush onto his knuckles, his palm, each time the Beta traces the creases of his fingers. 

Jo notices that Yuma likes doing this. His brain, for one, has a particular moment it likes to replay: ”You have pretty hands.” Yuma’s voice lingers, sweet. It was during one of their variety shows. 

Ever since then, Jo’s brain short circuits when his hands intertwine with Yuma’s. It’s shameful, but it keeps his day going.

Their height difference isn’t that massive, and even between the two, they have pretty similar builds. Yuma now has shoulders almost as broad as Jo’s–thanks to his recent gym visits, so in a position like this, he doesn’t look like he’s completely drowning behind Jo’s taller and larger figure. Jo’s wolf yips—something it rarely does—because Yuma's presence felt like a soothing wave coursing through his entire body.

Jo fights the urge to lean forward. To have his nose buried on Yuma’s nape–the crook of his neck, where it smells the most like the tides rolling in and crashing against the rocks. Bright and refreshing, like a drop of cold lemonade. 

Yuma carries the scent of summer: citrusy, slightly salty on the tongue, but addicting. 

It’s said that Beta scents are so faint they fade in a room filled with Alphas and Omegas, but Jo will still pick up Yuma’s scent amongst many other people, no matter how many. 

Well, it can’t be helped with how the small of Yuma’s back is just inches away from his body right now.

It’s winter, but Jo still craves lemonade.

“Jojo,” Yuma calls, voice small enough only for the two of them to hear. In the chaos of this Mario Kart showdown, it's unlikely anyone else would notice.

Jo hums. He still feels Yuma knead at the skin of his palm, just below the base of his fingers. Almost melts into the older’s touch.

“You’re awfully quiet lately, even more than you already are. How’s that even possible?” Yuma continues, rhetoric. For some reason, his words flowed as naturally as the waves his fingers drew on Jo's palm. The sensation was of little use to Jo. He’s always been bad with focusing only on one thing–Yuma’s scent, Yuma’s voice, Yuma’s everything makes him feel like a living heater. One that’s constantly overheating and ready to explode at any moment.

“Oi. Are you even listening to me?” asks Yuma.

“Yeah.” Jo answers a beat too fast to sound convincing. He grimaces when a pinch lands on his arm. 

Yuma laughs, all toothy when he’s pleased. He’s back to massaging the skin of Jo’s hands but this time he pinches and scratches at it gently like a cat. His fingertips act like paws that’s both soft and pointed at the end.

The Beta reiterates, “All I’m saying is that you can always tell me,” Jo nods. He throws his head back slightly and lets it hang on the headrest. “You have things in your head. I’ll have you figured out in no time, you know. Especially with that look.” Yuma says with a huff, a bit snarky, but still, the sincerity in his voice follows right after.

Jo lets the blood circulate in his head. Maybe that’ll cool him.

“Thank you, Yuma.” Jo replies sheepishly. He hears the way Yuma’s wolf purrs, content. 

Then, Yuma leads Jo’s arms to the side and wraps it around his body like a makeshift human blanket. Jo, of course, lets him.

Jo knows it well. He really does.

But what can he do when the words he prepared get stuck in his throat? 

What can he do when he’s not ready to confess, and for the first time in his life, have his wolf ready to bite him– itself, for it? 

Maybe then, when Jo’s gurgling, bleeding throat drowns out his words, Yuma won't be able to hear him.

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

Management didn’t really make it an issue when they found out that some of the members formed a more-than-business-partners kind of romantic relationship. In fact, considering how difficult it is to control and adjust the moods of Alphas and Omegas when they work together under a long-term contract, they seem to encourage it to be done between them. If they’re practically already living in the same space every single day, it makes it easier for them to support themselves during rut or heat for a long-term. 

Jo remembers the day when his relationship with Yuma came to light—a humid, summer afternoon—and they had to report to management in a rush. All because they were caught enjoying a little date outside. Their hands weren’t even joined together. Perhaps Jo’s flowery scent gave it away. 

The two had intended to keep their relationship private, but living with 7 other adults, not to mention, their pack, made it difficult to keep a secret when there are sniffing noses here and there. Namely, most especially, Taki and Harua. 

But Jo has never been good at lying or keeping secrets, perhaps that’s why.

Jo remembers entering the meeting room prepared to be reprimanded, or worse, forced to break up with Yuma due to a made up compatibility test where it’s shown that they’re not made for each other, or for causing discomfort among their fans one way or another. 

However, both Jo and Yuma were instead congratulated for their blossoming relationship and left the room with a light pat on the back from each of the staff. 

Just be careful not to be too obvious to the fans, they say, but Jo’s not sure if he can.

He remembers the relieved sigh that left his mouth as soon as he and Yuma were able to go back to the dorms–he most especially remembers the way Yuma patted his shoulder with a smirk, his words written on his face, see? I told you we’ll be fine. 

They walked closely that day. 

Their hands haven't found their way towards each other, yet, Jo still feels the way bubbles rise all the way up in his stomach. He still feels the ghost of Yuma’s touch lingering behind his nape.

.

.

Sounds of footsteps echo down the hallway, blurring Jo's thoughts.

“We’re off!” It’s Taki and Maki. Only now did Jo remember that some of the members are out to catch the train to their hometown or for some other plan. They’ve only recently finished filming, so management allowed them to have some days off the week to see their family or to simply rest up. 

And now, entering midwinter, it’s almost time for the Alphas to go into rut. During ruts and heats the members would be sent home to their parents' houses or to health centers to spend most of their time there to ease the pain of their cycles. 

For both Alphas and Omegas, their emotional and physical state during this time is extremely crucial to their overall well being. Not only are they becoming more sensitive to surrounding scents, threats—other competitors—they're also quick to irk. It's as if their internal systems and hormones are surging high, slowly eating away at their bodies with each passing moment.

Today's arrangement is done with that in mind.

Being a mated pair, Euijoo and Nicholas have decided to move to their other dormitory. With Harua’s leave for the week, no one will be there, and so comes the priority of temporarily separating the only Omega in the pack. 

Jo initially offered to go back home to his parents' house to spend his rut, but Yudai and Fuma told him to stay—to his demise—as he'd already left the dorm many times before. Rut comes later for the older Alpha pair, so they can still maintain their laidback and neutral approach as compared to the younger ones that’s already in pre-rut which means they’re extra sensitive and aggressive at times. But that doesn't mean they aren't being careful. Doesn't mean they're unaware. 

Jo won’t pretend he doesn’t notice the gaze directed at every one of his moves. Jo won't pretend he doesn't notice the eyes that follow him everywhere. It's a given, even if it feels wrong to point out. Jo hasn't reached his peak yet. He's just been spending his rut alone, isolated in his room or surrounded by the white walls of the medical facility.

“This time, it's your turn to stay.” Yudai informed him during practice break. He handed Jo a water bottle, and only then did Jo realize that he was thirsty. The older Alpha must have sensed Jo's scent wavering, his wolf shivering in the cold even when his whole body feels feverish. 

“There's no need to rush. We just want you to pass this healthily and safely.“ It sounded like pity.

”Fuma and I will be there if you need anything." Jo couldn't hear the way Yudai spoke over the pulse of his own heartbeat.

"Okay." He replied, voice drowning out in his own head. It turned out that was the only word he'd spoken during practice.

Jo was especially bad at refusing, and he knows his hyungs mean well. They went all their way out and offered to stay back for him. Even though they’re Alphas too. Even though they definitely noticed the way Jo’s natural sweet scent turn musky–turn bitter, suffocating, overbearing, something that’s not Jo, as it fills every corner of their house—

Then a rustle.

“Hey, Jyojo,” a pair of arms wraps around Jo’s neck. He feels weight shifting from behind the couch he’s sitting on. “Thinking hard again, are we?” 

Jo looks back to see Yuma already staring back at him. His body is leaning forward, not too close, but close enough for Jo to catch his favorite scent.

Summer. The tides. Yuma.

He places a hand over Yuma’s bare arm–he’s wearing his black tank top during winter. Even during winter. Jo wonders if he gets cold. 

“No.” His fingers strokes the soft surface of Yuma’s skin. Yuma smells nice. “I’m just kind of… dizzy. I think. I just need rest.”

There was no answer from Yuma. Or perhaps, he didn’t have it in him to speak just yet when Jo follows, “Why are you here?” Words flow ceaselessly from his mouth when he realizes just how wrong he sounds now. “No–I mean, are you not leaving? It’s almost midnight.” He questions the other. 

The clock in the living room reads 11:32. Jo doesn’t know how long has he been sitting here.

Yuma makes a sound that’s between a hum and a chuckle. When the Beta took his arms away from around Jo’s body, his wolf almost whined from the lack of warmth.

Yuma sits next to Jo but his eyes are elsewhere. 

“I’m staying.”

“Huh?”

“I’m staying here. I’m not going back.” Yuma repeats slowly.

“Oh, okay.” Jo nods, dumbfounded.

Then silence.

Jo wants to ask why. He wants to ask why Yuma made such a decision when he could’ve kept his distance from an Alpha in rut—an Alpha like Jo. Especially Jo.

Yuma snickers, like he’d found his prey pinned beneath his claws, “Jo, I can read you like an open book.” 

The Beta leans closer, shoulder bumping with the Alpha that hasn’t even moved an inch. Jo thinks he won’t be able to stand up after this.

Yuma raises an eyebrow, “Is it your rut? Is that what’s bothering you?” As if it didn’t bother him at all. It probably doesn’t. With the way the Beta is practically pressed up against Jo’s side–he probably doesn’t know. He doesn’t know the influence he has over the Alpha. He doesn’t know just how much Jo wanted to sink into the depths of his clear waters–for the waves to take him elsewhere, somewhere deeper within. He doesn’t know just how much Jo is fighting for his life not to bear his fangs against the Beta and mark his lean neck and to take him right here in the living room of their dorm. 

Jo didn’t even realize that he nodded to the question almost immediately. Not with his boyfriend this close to him, so close he could take his breath away.

The Beta hasn’t mentioned about how the Alpha’s scent now wafts in the air, nauseating and full of interest. Jo can hear his wolf snarling. It hasn’t moved from its place, but its eyes are set on its possession. 

“You’re sweating.” Yuma mentions casually, unaware of the way Jo is practically squeezing his pants. But knowing Yuma, he might’ve already noticed it by now. He must’ve seen the way Jo’s pupils waver with each brush, because now, he has his hand on Jo’s thigh. And of course, Yuma, driven by some kind of sick, sadistic nature running in his blood, lets his hand stay there–like a test for the Alpha. See how long he can last.

“Want me to lend you a hand?” Yuma’s voice is crystal clear when it trails over the quiet air. Now that it’s only the two of them, the situation is heading in a dangerous direction. “I’m not that mean,” he coos, but the way his hand caresses the inside of Jo's thigh feels extremely sinister paired with his lilted voice. He’s always liked playing with fire. “I wouldn’t leave my boyfriend in need.” 

Jo’s Alpha growls, clearly entertained by the idea of the Beta offering himself. The way its tail wags tells all that Jo needs to know. He realizes just how bad this could get. A wave of guilt washes over him over the fact that his body starts to react violently under Yuma’s touches even if it means he was being pried open by none other than his beloved.

Ours, his wolf roars from behind its canines. It wants to be let out.

But this is wrong–so, so wrong it’s bitter in his mouth. Jo thinks, that’s not what I want, he pleads, I haven’t even held him properly yet, and his wolf looks ready to pounce on him. Like it’s ready to tear him from limb to limb.

So Jo stands up–he needs to put a stop in this. He speaks up, suddenly feeling breathless, “As I thought— I-I really need to sleep. And I haven’t had my meds.” he says, spilling and saying anything to take his mind off of the Beta. He can’t pick up any change in scent to tell if Yuma disliked his response–After all, Yuma was a Beta.

Yuma is a Beta. How would he react to having his neck marked?  

Jo shook off the thought. “I think you should rest for the night too.” He exhales, it’s for the best.

Before Yuma could reply, Jo walks away to his room. It took every ounce of strength left in his body and he didn’t even get to say good night.

Once inside his room, Jo feels heat rising up along the base of his spine, creeping up like a fever too hot. Heat already pools around his lower body. He feels disgusting. He feels embarrassed.

Even behind the walls and closed door, all he could think about is Yuma.

Greed is an ugly thing, shaped like two hands wrapped around Jo’s throat–urging him to sink his teeth into the contours of Yuma’s body. 

For a moment, Jo wondered about how Yuma would sound like if he was bitten until he bleeds in his arms.

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

Jo finds himself surrounded by the bleak, grey walls once more. 

His eyes darted around–there’s still nothing new about how this place makes him feel. He still feels too big for this small room. It feels like it’s caging him.

Then, it struck him.

The smell of meat. The metallic, raw pungent of meat assaulting his nose.

There’s blood dripping on the floor, pooling just right at the end of his feet. But Jo couldn’t focus on the floor when all of his senses seemed to be rewired into something dark–something primal that had been lying dormant inside him. 

For his whole life, Jo doesn’t know he could feel this hungry. 

Hunger rumbled from within his body, from his stomach, stirring for something to quench his endless thirst. The mass of flesh before him, still and unmoving by ropes tied to the ceiling, looks incredibly appetizing. It was calling to him. 

The sight made Jo salivate.

It’s only then did Jo realize his wolf—its gray fur coarse and rough—was nearby. Right next to him, Its form is tall and proud. Its body seemed large, almost overgrown. Jo hadn't even realized how large it had become. Has its presence always been this intimidating?

The sound of blood dripping onto the floor slowly numbs Jo’s skull. 

But he just stood there, eyes set on the dangling flesh right in front of him, motionless. No matter how hungry he felt, he couldn't bring himself to move. Saliva was already dripping from the corner of his mouth, but it still wasn't enough.

Not until his wolf lunges forward, fangs sharp and precise when it rips the flesh from the rope that binds it. It didn’t even take a full minute before its canines sank into the tender, red tendons of the meat. The Alpha rips, takes, and devours its prey apart in time. 

For a moment, Jo didn't realize that the wolf before him—crimson trickling from between its fangs—was himself.

.

.

.

Yuma had always been quick to voice his thoughts. 

“Jo– h, hey, not too fast,” Yuma sighed, breathy against Jo’s hand. Even when he was completely opened apart, bare and unblemished beneath Jo, control remained like chains wrapped around his fingers. “But don’t take your eyes off of me. I like that look on you.” The small chuckle that left his mouth slipped into a moan that drove Jo a little crazy. Control suited Yuma. It was practically made for him.

The midsummer heat was taking its toll on them, they reasoned, like there were people they needed to argue against in the first place. They had no choice but to seek refuge in Jo's room to mess around a little while everyone else was out.

Yuma's newly dyed hair had always caught Jo's attention during this time. With the silvery-blonde gradation and black tips, Yuma brought winter back to life with just one breath. Mysterious, cold, and rough at the edges. It complemented his sharp, cat-like eyes.

But whenever Jo nestled his head against Yuma’s neck and shoulders, to kiss and trace every one of his moles scattered like stars, he still smelled like summer. Sun-kissed and beautiful.

“Why did you–?” Yuma exhaled. It almost came out as a whine the moment he realized Jo pulled out, only to meet the taller man’s eyes right after.

Jo answered, sincere. “I just think you look cool. With this haircut, you look… fierce. Like a wolf.” 

Yuma blinked. Once. Twice. 

“What?”

“It suits you, Yuma.”

Yuma smacked Jo’s shoulder lightly. “Stop saying weird stuff when you were just inside me.” He complained, but Jo could smell a subtle change in the Beta's scent. It was lighter and warmer. “Come back. Now .”  

Jo chuckled, soft. The sincerity in Yuma's voice made him tremble slightly. Whether from fear or excitement, he couldn't tell. “Are you feeling needy?”

Yuma’s eyes narrowed. “Hurry.”

Naturally, Jo obliged, but only after he gave Beta a tender kiss on the nose. It wasn't easy, especially when Yuma had already wrapped his arms around Jo's neck, trying to pull him close. Yuma's eyes fluttered shut when he felt Jo push inside with just enough force that made him whimper, mouth open.

Yuma is not only quick to say what he thinks–he’s also one to react honestly. Despite his attempts to deny it, Yuma’s wolf was just as exhilarated as he is with a shower of attention from the Alpha.

The way their bodies were entangled that day felt indecent. They were both still partially clothed, but Yuma had lifted his shirt just enough for Jo to see his chest.  Jo wanted to see Yuma bite his own shirt each time he rolled in him, in his favorite spot, somewhere he knew Yuma loved. But when Jo heard Yuma's lewd sounds instead, he couldn't bring himself to complain. 

Then, all of a sudden, Jo felt the way Yuma buried his face on the crook of his neck, how Yuma nipped at his already reddening skin. “Y-Yuma, what–” 

Yuma's teeth drag along his neck as if searching for the perfect spot. Then, he let them sink in, deep.

“Ow…!” Jo let out an involuntary cry out of pain. Still, he did not budge. Didn’t even try to pull Yuma off of where he’s practically biting to leave a mark on his neck.

“Heh–you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Yuma grinned, triumphant. "Just like a wolf." He chimed, as if it was natural, as if it was instinct.

But it’s still not enough for him. The Beta continued to lick and bite at Jo's neck, where faint teeth marks started to show. He let his tongue drag and teeth dig anywhere he could reach. Jo’s Alpha snarled. It wasn’t threatened. Instead, it licked its teeth, full of appetite.

Yuma’s upturned eyes found Jo’s again, challenging.

His tongue peeked from under his snaggletooth, “Do you like being hunted, Alpha?” The things that come out of Yuma’s mouth are mostly questionable in nature, and it wasn’t like this is his first time teasing Jo with the nickname, either. 

Generally speaking, Betas aren’t supposed to be able to leave a bonding mark given their lack of canines, and yet, here Jo was, slowly turning into his boyfriend’s chew toy. But this is what drives them both: the fact that no matter how sharp Yuma's fangs are, they won't leave any permanent dent on anyone–on Jo.

It was then that Jo realized that what was driving Yuma wasn’t instinct. It was thrill.

“Woah,” Yuma exclaimed, blinking several times. “Did you seriously just get harder because of that? You pervert.” 

“Shut up,” Jo repositioned himself between Yuma's legs. His ears were burning, but he’d sworn to fuck into Yuma so hard the he would then forget his own name. “You didn’t need to point that out...” Jo managed to say, not missing the cheeky grin on Yuma's face. Look who stepped right into the trap?

When Yuma purposely spread his legs wider to accept all of Jo, it felt too perfect to be true.

-

Jo still hasn’t bonded with Yuma.

He still hasn’t left a bonding mark on Yuma’s neck–he barely even dares to bite the Beta. Not anywhere when his body is too flawless to handle carelessly. Jo’s far from disrespectful–If he could, he would place Yuma on an altar and kneel to be allowed to kiss his hand and foot.

The farthest they’ve gone, aside from sex, was Yuma letting Jo knot his hand―and embarrassingly, his mouth, when he was giving Jo head at a random storage room during filming break. Jo always makes a mental note to pull out whenever he’s close to finishing, just in case he gets too relaxed. It's better safe than sorry, after all. 

It’s embarrassing to admit, but Jo knows full well that the reason is not that he doesn’t want to try marking and knotting Yuma properly. He doesn’t want his instincts to take over him while he’s with his lover. It’s even harder knowing how Yuma feels like inside.

Yuma laid next to him, checking and scrolling about his phone. What was originally just them fooling around turned into a one hour session of their bodies—full of sweat and flushed—meshing with each other. Everyone else was still out, so Jo offered to help Yuma shower at the meantime, but was turned down because Yuma wanted to take a small break. 

So Jo, of course, stayed with him.

“If I’m a wolf, then what does that make you?" Yuma had asked him, eyes still on the screen of his phone. His tone still made everything sound too casual.

Jo thought about it for a while. He let his hand run through his neck and down to his chest, where it was red and covered with bite marks, as if he had barely escaped the jaws of a wild beast.

“I'll be human, like I always have.” Jo replied after some time. But even to himself, it sounded insincere. His wolf tugged at his hand. It bumped its snout against Jo’s hand as if disagreeing. He didn’t know why.

Yuma let out a sing-song hum, as if Jo’s answer amused him to no end.

.

.

.

Jo feels like he'd woken up from the longest dream of his life.

Sweat trickled down his forehead. Even in this air-conditioned room, his body still feels like it’s burning from the inside, and his head feels especially dizzy and heavy. Even if he tried, he couldn't stand up straight, let alone walk.

He glances at his desk and nightstand. There was nothing there. 

He regrets not preparing for what he needs the night before. But, after doing god-knows-what with the image of his boyfriend sucking him off constantly flashing before him last night–he’s not sure if it’d do him any good. In fact, it’s probably better for him not to go out at all as he’s not willing to risk his chances of meeting Nakakita Yuma who might still be around outside. Jo would die of embarrassment before he even passed his door.

So Jo tidies his room a little. Right now, he doesn’t want to meet Yuma, but just in case he does, he’ll have to prepare himself for the worst.

He hadn't even had time to fold all his clothes before he started shivering against his own frame. The heat was eating away at him, and even the coolness of the air offered no relief. 

It’s all too familiar to him, this lonesome routine. Usually, those days he spent holed up in his room pass by in a blink. It was all thanks to Jo’s amazing ability of being able to completely tune out from the world around him, blacking out each day until the fever that consumed his body gradually subsided. It usually wasn't until the third day that he was able to crawl out and replenish his other biological needs, but by then, at least, he’d be able to breathe easier than the first day.

Jo knows that spending time with someone, his lover, would help him get over his rut more quickly.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to meet his boyfriend in this pathetic condition. Not when he just rejected Yuma’s offer last night in the spur of the moment.

He remembered asking Nicholas a little about nesting; about what makes a place comfortable for a pair, and he certainly remembered the gentle smile the Omega gave him. For someone with such sharp features, Nicholas shows the most genuine form of concern and care.

Nicholas lightly patted his shoulder, he didn’t even need to ask why Jo asked him out of all people. “When the whole room smells just like you, it basically becomes your den. It’s the scent that matters the most.” the older man explained.

Jo is sure that now, his room is already filled with overwhelmingly musky pungent. He remembered Nicholas complimenting him for his light, natural floral scent, but now? Amidst his obvious carnal desire for Yuma, he could barely smell himself.

“I know this might sound funny,” Nicholas continued, clearing his throat, but he quickly regained his composure right after. “But maybe you can invite him to nest in your place? It’s hardly only for Omegas nowadays, and I think anyone can make a nest if it means you get to bond with your partner better.”

So Jo prepared a place near his closet, where the floor is wood carpeted. He didn’t have any other information about nesting other than the fact that it’s commonly practiced by Omegas, and the books he’d studied back in his student days weren’t much help. Still, the Alpha tries to do his job by gathering his favorite clothes and blanket, folding them neatly, and bundling them together. And maybe, just maybe, when Yuma finally joins him after his rut is over and Jo’s able to properly invite him–then Yuma will bring pairs of his own. Even though Betas didn't need to—even though Yuma couldn't smell Jo's pheromones or sense his constant reaction to him—Jo still wants to do it together.

It turns out that preparing for all of these while in rut is a bad idea, because now, Jo feels exhausted, yet also extremely vigorous in all the bad ways.

His heart pounds loudly with every step, and his wolf refuses to be silenced.

So Jo does what he think will help: He puts on a mask to block out the scents around him and curls up in his bed to try to sleep like a parched, starved man. 

The shivering doesn’t stop even long after he drifts into sleep.

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

Jo feels cold touch his forehead after what felt like days of torture.

He sees a figure–someone, sitting beside where he’s laying on his bed. They are looking down at him.

Then, he hears Yuma’s voice. 

“Look at you. You’re a mess.” The older man ran his hand through Jo’s dark locks in a motion half combing and half caressing. His fingers caught a few strands of hair he let stay twirled around him. 

There’s a certain fondness in Yuma’s eyes that Jo can see even with his blurred vision.

“Yuma-kun...?” Jo rasps, broken, like he hasn’t had water for ages. “Hh-how did you…?”

“Get in?” He continues for Jo, then points at the door behind him with his thumb. “You forgot to lock it. And geez—you sound awful! Have you drank anything? Medicine? Water?”

Jo shakes his head. It still feels heavy.

“At all?” Yuma repeats.

Jo shakes his head again.

Yuma ruffles his hair in disbelief. “Seriously, you're planning on spending your rut alone and this is what you’re doing?!” He sounds disappointed– angry , even, rightfully so because all Jo can do now is curl in his bed helplessly. A sigh escapes Yuma's lips as he watches Jo make no attempt to fight back. Even if he could, he knows Jo wouldn't, because that’s just who Jo is, someone whose heart is too gentle and kind.

“If you keep this up, your rut won’t be the only thing that’ll pass. It’ll be you next.” Yuma flicks Jo’s forehead, and really, that’s the only thing that earned him a small whine from Jo. “You can be really stubborn sometimes, huh?”

Yuma gets up from the bed, grabbing the water bottle on the nightstand. He must’ve brought it in when he entered Jo’s room.

He helps Jo up, wrapping his arm around the taller to then lean him against the headboard. Jo feels the way his shirt is bunched against his skin, uncomfortable, sticking on his body. 

“Jo,” Yuma’s voice calls, it feels incredibly gentle that Jo could cry hearing it. When he held Jo close, Jo instinctively inched closer, tugging at Yuma's gray sweater with one hand. Everything about Yuma smells nice, and it’s making Jo even dizzier. “Lift your chin up for me,” Yuma instructs. But as soon as he sees Jo stay still in his arms, clinging close to him instead, he sighs. He places a hand under Jo’s chin to have him look up before helping him drink from the water bottle. 

Jo follows his lead like always.

He eases his throat. Feeling the surge of fresh water enter his systems after hours without one made breathing a little easier for him. His eyes flutter  shut, gradually blinking. When he opens them, Yuma is there to hold him still. Slow, and steady.

But Yuma’s fingertips under his chin feels like it’s burning him with every touch.

“Good. Feeling better?” Yuma asks, attentive. His eyes were still latched on Jo when the younger nodded his head slowly. 

When Yuma moves a little to the side to place the bottle back on the night stand, Jo immediately grabs onto Yuma, clinging to him like a child scared of being left alone. The sight made Yuma smile, but to see Jo in this condition brings him great pain.

Yuma chuckles, his smile crooked and toothy. “What? So you do miss me after all?” Even in this situation, Yuma still pokes around him, making fun of the Alpha. But it all feels lighthearted. Or maybe, it didn’t matter too much for Jo when all he craves for now is the other’s body heat. He still feels the urge to take in more of Yuma’s scent greedily, especially with him so close. 

When Yuma pulls him into a full embrace, Jo lets him. He lets himself melt, dissolve, and be surrounded by his boyfriend’s scent. Even if he knows that Yuma will be the one who’d leave the room smelling like him–Jo doesn’t care. 

Right now, only he can scent Yuma. Yuma is his summer, his getaway.

As Yuma touches his neck, delicately placing butterfly kisses on Jo's flushed face, only then did Jo realize that his wolf had woken up. He’s barely able to control himself–he can barely even stop the way his body starts shaking with so much Yuma around him. 

But still, Jo tries, because that’s what he does best.

He grabs Yuma by the shoulders and pushes him away. To maintain distance. “Yuma-kun,” He warns, unable to look Yuma in the eyes. “I–I think you should leave. You have to leave.” It sounds like a warning to himself–like he was trying to convince himself instead of the Beta.

There’s a look of confusion on Yuma's face. “What—”

Jo hears his wolf growl–it's now biting his hand. Quick. “Please. I don’t want to—don’t wanna…”

“Don’t want what?” Yuma echoes. There’s a sliver of exasperation with how his eyebrows furrow, his knuckles turning into fists. The way Jo grips him by the shoulders made him wary.

“Don’t wanna hurt you. Please, Yuma, this is for the best…” Jo practically begs. Even the tears that come out of his eyes were hot, and Jo swears he feels them leaving behind a burning trail as it rolls on his skin. It hurts. He’s burning. “It’s for your sake…”

Jo expected Yuma to nod, to simply say goodbye to the dying Alpha, then walk out the door, locking it from the outside for extra measures. That should be what a normal person does at the face of an Alpha in rut, and after such a direct contact with one, too. It’s amazing how Jo still managed to keep the grip on himself until now.

But instead, Nakakita Yuma shook his arms off–and climbed into his lap, thighs keeping Jo in place. But there’s a frown on his beautiful face that deeply pained Jo.

Yuma grits his teeth. "What the hell? You don't get to tell me what's best for me," he hisses, grabbing Jo by the collar of his shirt and forcing the Alpha to look up from where he's now sitting under Yuma. It feels like he's trampling over their status—their relationship with just one scoff of offense. 

“Yuma-kun—” his voice came out weaker than he thought. 

“Speak louder. I can’t hear you.” Yuma snaps. His glare is sharp and it goes through Jo’s heart like a dagger so sharp it cuts him clean. Yuma is incredibly pissed.

Jo sucks in air. “I’m sorry.” 

Yuma groans, irritated. “I don’t need your sorry.” His hand still held Jo by the collar, if not even tighter to keep Jo from escaping his gaze. Jo feels confused. In such a state, there’s a part of him that continues to grow aroused; Yuma felt so cold and unlike the summer Jo knew. 

Yuma’s eyes flashed with frustration, “You think I’m here because I was forced to?” He continues, ignoring the way Jo’s breath started to hitch. This side of Yuma makes his head spin. However, what bothered him most was the fact that his wolf is trying to fight back. The way its fur stands on end and its growls–it feels challenged . He feels intimidated .

Jo shakes his head. He couldn’t find any words to shoot back, not when he was paralyzed by something innate. He didn’t even realize that he was biting his own lips until he tasted iron on his tongue.

“You think I’d let my boyfriend suffer for days, so much so that he looks like he’s dying ? You think it’s better for me to leave him all alone?” chides Yuma, not missing a beat. It didn't feel like he was trying to get a point across to Jo, but more like he was venting his frustration.

“I’m sorry, Yuma...” Jo apologizes again, this time more meekly. He is the larger one out of the two of them, and yet, Jo feels so small . He could have turned the tables at any time even in this poor condition, but now, when Yuma has him by the throat—he couldn't. With Yuma’s gaze stripping him down to nothing more than a mere empty shell, Jo could only stay completely still.

Yuma clicks his tongue, like he was fighting a losing battle. “Enough.” 

Jo shivers beneath the Beta, his tongue tied. He knows this isn’t going to end well for the both of them, and yet, his head is only full of Yuma. He’s sure that his wolf is the same. It wants more. It wants Yuma.

"And stop forcing words in my mouth.” Yuma huffs, low, before grabbing Jo by the jaw. His thumb traces over the corner of Jo’s lips, forcing them open. “All I need you to do is shove your tongue down my throat." 

And with that, the gap between them closes in an instant.

Jo felt his senses growing numb, the restraints around him melting away. The way Yuma's lips instantly met his own was terrifying, it feels perfect. If Yuma tasted metal from Jo’s lips, then he didn’t mention it, because right now, they’re both too busy chasing the height of their desire. It was messy, and the way their tongues move against each other seems to lit a match into the oil mixed within Jo’s dormant hunger.

With how they move, it’s less like kissing and more like eating each other. Jo licks the inside of Yuma's mouth, opening his mouth wider to take in the tangy taste that Yuma always has with him. Yuma whimpers between the kiss–sweet and chaste against Jo’s atypical aggression. 

Yuma now has his arms around Jo’s neck, caging him in with no escape. But Jo had no intention of escaping. So he held Yuma close, wrapping his arms around him and clutching his sweater as if he never wanted to let go. Yuma makes it easier for Jo to feel him; he slacks his jaw and meets Jo’s kisses with the same amount of fervor, even when all Jo ends up doing is bruise his lips and bite his tongue in the midst of their grotesque dance. It’s not enough, Jo thinks. Seeing Yuma take him just like that makes him want to suck the blood seeping out of the older man's lips.

If anything, Yuma looks pleased and just as turned on.

By the time they part, both their faces are bright red and a mess―a thick, grotesque red string of saliva clinging between their lips. Yuma brushes Jo’s mouth clean with his wrist, like he’s done it a hundred times, like he always will.

Jo tries to lean in again for another kiss, but is then stopped by Yuma’s hand, blocking his mouth just barely. “Mnn, Jo…” Yuma purrs, breathy, like he’s out of oxygen. “Wait.”

Normally, Jo would wait. 

Under a normal circumstance, Jo would wait. 

He was always patient, always understanding and respectful of the space he shares with others.

But now, Jo couldn’t hear Yuma over the sound of his loud, thumping heart–over the crazed howls of his wolf, over his chaotic mind filled with thoughts of only taking and destroying Yuma—

“Ow–” a gasp escapes Yuma’s lips when he feels Jo’s mouth all over his palm and fingers. He feels Jo’s pointed canines tug at his skin just slightly. It’s as if the Alpha has lost all reasonings. “What are you doing?”

Jo doesn’t answer. He continues to kiss, suck, and bite at the flesh in front of him. Yuma, Yuma, Yuma, Yuma, Yuma.

No matter how repulsive and obscene the sounds he made were, Jo didn't stop. Desperation keeps him going like a blind dog.

“Wait.” This time, Yuma pushes just enough to make Jo whimper and stop trying to coat Yuma’s fingers with his saliva.

Jo blinks a few times before licking his red-stained lips. Oh, how he longed for the taste of blood.

“I haven’t heard it straight from you.” Yuma reminds him. His eyes remain fixed on Jo, knowing that Jo was gradually losing his mind. It’s all so obvious with how Jo’s practically heated up all over his body. Yet, Jo still keeps his attention on the older man in front of him, as if Yuma is the only one person in his world.

“Straight from me..?” Jo repeats, as if the words had no meaning to him. His eyes zeroes in at Yuma’s exposed neck–how lean and flawless his skin is.

Yuma nods, his hair swaying slightly as he moves. His usual mischievous smile was back, as if he knew Jo would listen to anything he says. “Mhm. Do you still want me to leave?” He taunts. He leaves the bait.

Jo shook his head so fast it made the Beta laugh. It’s only after that that the realization dawned upon him again.

Jo’s breathing becomes ragged. Having tasted heaven made it difficult for him to speak. 

“It–it’d be better for you.. to leave.” He manages, but his scent is still full of desire. He’s not sure if Yuma knows. “But… I– Yuma-kun–”

"Yuma.” Yuma corrects him. “What did I tell you?”

“Yuma,” Jo tries, feeling his head throb with each syllable leaving his mouth. He throws a few more glances to see Yuma’s reaction before continuing, “But I’ve always wanted you by my side. I–I still do.”

Yuma tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he’s unsatisfied with the answer. Not yet.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Jo looks down at his hands–at the way it shakes. There’s a damp stain on his crotch. He can feel sweat dripping from his forehead. From his neck. Yuma is still watching his every move.

“What if I– I… don’t want to hurt you too much.” Jo mutters. He remembers the book he’d read a little while ago: Betas tend to experience excruciating pain when knotted. A relationship with an Alpha requires great care. “If my knot–”

"Who do you think I am?" Yuma interrupts, his gaze sharp.

Jo swallows. "Yuma. You're, Yuma.." He replies, sounding rather innocent even in a situation like this. Answers like a student caught off guard by a question so simple, it makes him look foolish just for hesitating.

There’s a typical smirk on Yuma’s face. Always so cocky and proud. "That's right. Still think I can't take your knot, Alpha ?"

That was surely not enough to relieve Jo's month-and-a-week-old anxiety of marking his boyfriend. It shouldn't, but Jo still leaned forward, closer to Yuma's face, his arms instinctively wrapping around the Beta's waist.

“Th–then, please,” He pleads. Begs. Didn’t even realize the way he’s grinding against Yuma now. “Let me fuck you, Yuma… I can make you feel so good…” His voice drags, breathy and thick with need. 

“Uh-uh.” Yuma tells him, his index finger swaying right in front of Jo. But his voice is devoid of any anger he’d shown before. “Patience, Jo.” The sudden gentleness of his voice felt like mercy for Jo’s shameful desires.

Yuma leans close and whispers in his ear, “I think you deserve to be punished.” His gentle, sweet voice sounded as if he was bestowing upon Jo a blessing from heaven rather than divine retribution. There’s a certain lilt in his voice that sends shivers down Jo’s spine. 

The Alpha, of course, nods. Fully believes that he deserves it.

-

Being told to wait should’ve enraged any Alpha in rut. Jo should be snarling, half-mad, tearing at the sheets when Yuma laid him down and said, stay put and be good —and yet, something stirs within him. Deep. Something primal, instinctive. It tells him to submit, even as need claws beneath his skin, begging to lunge, to take the Beta right then and there.

Jo’s wolf waits, expectant. Full of hope. He’s not sure if he has the will to resist, so he waits.

What lies before his eyes is something that exists only in his wildest dreams. Dreams he would rather not wake up from.

Nakakita Yuma, whose existence he treats like a figment of his imagination; from his most beautiful dream.

Jo lies still, exposed and bare except for his underwear, which feels too tight, as the bed creaks beneath every motion the Beta makes.

Yuma, now straddling him, looks down at him. It seems Jo’s dignity was stripped bare too, because now, Jo couldn’t even think about anything else when all he expects is for himself to sink within the embrace of Yuma’s welcoming flesh.

“Watch me.” Yuma’s voice is grounding, firm. Jo obeys. He willingly savours the sight before him knowing he will soon be eaten alive, ribs parted wide, offering himself to the arrow Yuma has yet to release.

“And keep your hands to yourself.” So Jo did. He purposefully slid his hands under his pillow, using the weight of his head to keep himself there.

In refined, slow motion, Yuma began to take off his sweater. It feels agonizingly slow, and yet, Jo still watches. He keeps his eyes open because he was told to: The way the gray sweater rides up, allowing him to see Yuma's stomach, the way it slipped past his shoulders with the moles Jo adored, and the way it finally passed over Yuma's head, tousling his hair—it feels like torment. So much so that he didn't realize Yuma was completely naked underneath the sweater.

Then, without moving too much, Yuma continues. He moves his hips slightly, taking off his pants followed by his underwear in one fine motion. He’s already half-hard. His sharp eyes, however, continue to cast its gaze at Jo. There was no trace of mercy left beneath the flutter of his lashes, only something quiet but far more inviting.

In this room, Yuma stares at his prey—Jo—like a predator. The weight in his eyes makes Jo tremble, as if his every move seems to decide his fate by the end of this. But Yuma's claws are sharp, deadly, and once he has set his sights on a target, he will never let them slip away.

Yuma brushes against Jo’s clothed erection with his thigh, nearly making Jo choke on his own saliva.

“Looks like you’re ready to go.” He comments, placing his left hand over the sizable bulge. He leans down, murmuring against Jo’s reddening skin simply to spread a burning sensation all over, “But let’s see if an Alpha like you can wait.” His sneer sounded devilish, and yet, in Jo’s eyes, Yuma is far more suited to wear a sun-shaped halo.

Yuma felt around the band of Jo's underwear before pulling them down to reveal his hard on, standing proud, unlike the swirl of shame and fear Jo wears on his face.

Relieved at his release, Jo exhales. But his face quickly pales when he feels a finger enter his mouth, swift but precise.

He parts his mouth just enough for Yuma’s thumb to stay at the corner of his mouth. “Y–Yu–hma...” he chokes out, tries to, as it is barely discernible when all he could feel was the sensation of Yuma's thumb pressing against the tissue of his tongue–the way it presses and scrapes against the inside of his cheek. He slides his finger between Jo's canines, feeling the length.

Yuma licks his lips, voice stern. “No biting until I tell you to.” 

Jo nods–let himself be toyed with. There’s hunger beneath the sparkle of Yuma's eyes, much like the way his fangs flash when he grins. Like he’s eager to devour Jo whole.

Yuma is skilled with his hand, Jo was certain, because all he needed to do to make Jo start whimpering and moaning was the mere touch of his fingers on Jo’s shaft. Or perhaps, Jo had fallen too deeply in love with the man in front of him, so much that he couldn't resist his urge for more, even in this miserable state. 

There must be something about the way Yuma has him now, forcing Jo to meet his gaze each time his hand moves and touches Jo’s skin like it’s thick with molasses and everything that makes Jo shakes uncontrollably, knees jerking and hands clawing under the pillow.

With each violent reaction from the Alpha, Yuma shuts them down, one by one. He doesn’t let his prey trash and scramble around his dining table too much. He sharpens his knife, licks at the sharp edge of his fangs before diving in, pressing his thumb against the tip of Jo’s dick. It was a repeated motion, continuous, as if he were trying to force Jo's instincts to remember who is touching him.

He keeps his hand steady around Jo’s dick, and it felt like a remedy to Jo’s persistent fever. Every now and then, Yuma would lean down and lick the fluid dripping from the tip of his cock—and it made Jo yelp, head thrown back against the pillow in a dizzying madness. But Yuma keeps going, because Yuma likes seeing Jo like this; helpless and desperate for his touch.

It didn’t take long for Jo to feel his jaw tighten–a guttural growl leaving his mouth and his tongue brushing past Yuma’s thumb. His muscles tense, and he could feel his vision blurring as he comes with no restraint. 

Yuma let out a small sound, not of anger or surprise, but of pure amusement.

Jo exhales, breath still ragged and all over the place, “Ah–ahm, uh, sorry…” he utters out, voice slurring his words. But he was met with a satisfied smile when Yuma finally removed his thumb from abusing Jo’s mouth. It’s slick with saliva when Yuma looks at both of his hands covered in various kinds of fluid, but his crooked smile never leaves his face.

Yuma leans down, brushing Jo’s bangs off his forehead to plant a soft kiss that makes Jo squirm, vulnerable.

Jo is an Alpha—strong, bold, and unwavering—and yet, he seems to melt immediately the second Yuma lets his lips linger just for a moment. With Yuma, he feels none of these matter–it doesn’t matter what he was. Not when Yuma is still above him, gentle but rough at the same time, and he is still so perfect for Jo all the same.

“Well done.” Yuma says, a soft whisper against the tips of Jo’s flushed ears. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this good, huh?”

The Alpha’s heart pounded hard against his ribcage as he felt Yuma shuffle in his seat, a hand reaching behind himself. Jo couldn’t see what was happening, especially with Yuma’s face so close, but he hears the slimy, slick sounds—hears Yuma trying to stifle his own whimpers.

Yuma sighs, snickering, “Hah… at least I prepped before coming here,” he shrugs, like he’s talking to himself. “Let’s hope you’ll fit right in me.” 

Jo blinked, stammered. This display of crude honesty from Yuma is to be expected, but there’s a slight edge to his voice that both worried and amazed Jo. Is it the lack of caution and worry Yuma puts when he’s handling an Alpha in rut? Perhaps, it’s because Jo is his Alpha that he could act this way. Because Jo had fallen right into his hands.

Finally, His wolf yips, as if talking to Jo. It's funny how it's drooling all over, not looking much different from him.

In one smooth motion, Yuma moves forward, slightly adjusting his position on top of Jo who gradually gets redder each time he inches closer. He takes a hold of Jo’s still firm length, guiding the tip to his entrance. Then, he lowers himself.

“Shit,” Jo groans, sound escaping without thought when he feels Yuma’s insides open and bare against him, “Yuma—”

“Shhh. Stay still, Jojo.” Yuma chuckles, eyes half-lidded. To him, this is all child’s play. The way Yuma hushed him didn’t sound like a command. Rather, it sounded like he wanted Jo to pay attention. To watch him and see. 

It takes a while even for the tip to go past his entrance, but it’s as if Yuma himself is reveling in the pleasure washing over him, drunk. He keeps pushing on, letting all sorts of sound slip past his lips. 

It hadn’t been long since they last had sex, but that didn’t change Yuma’s approach. He chases and chases, ruthless, like there was no more time in the world for him to surround Jo with himself and only him. With the Alpha beneath him, eyes shut as he feels Yuma’s warmth envelop him completely, the Beta feels deep-seated hunger well up in his throat.

On stage, Yuma’s performance is flawless. Each one of his moves goes along the beat, never missing a step. But what’s especially unique about him is the way he executes his moves: sharp, quick, and efficient. He doesn’t like to linger too long when the beat ends, yet his motion remains fluid, purposeful. Every gesture is a calculated hunt—he prowls, stalks and observes as much as he needs before striking his prey right at the throat. And right now, Yuma, who’s riding Jo like nothing else in the world mattered, was no different. His moves still carry purpose, each roll and jerk of his hips a deliberate lure meant to unravel Jo’s sanity. His moves are deadly precise even if he’s the one chasing after his own desires. 

None of it matters when Jo is just as hungry, if not hungrier, than the Beta who now completely controls him.

Jo feels himself sink into the waters, into the dark tides swirling within Yuma. It’s as if the older held out his hands, inviting him to fall together, deeper into the abyss of their shared, ravenous greed.

“Jo,” Yuma pants, voice half a whine and a laugh. The hands that were placed on Jo’s chest as he bounces up and down now crawl to reach for Jo’s neck. There’s something primal behind his gaze. “D’you like this?” he slurs, and God, did that make him sound extremely hot even when his hands proceed to tighten around Jo's neck, choking air out of him. 

Jo, a lunatic high and hopelessly in love, nods slowly, because he always wants to succumb to his lover. 

“Yeah,” he replies, honest. A smile spreads across his face even when he feels both of Yuma’s thumbs close his windpipe. “I do.” Yuma squeezes him just enough for Jo to feel the adrenaline shoot through him—enough to make his blood run wild, as if to say, you’re under my control. I’ve got you now.

Until, something inside Jo shifted–a restless hunger stirring just beneath the surface. His wolf claws at the edges of his heart, demanding release.

In a seamless motion, Jo reverses their position, his hands firm and steady on Yuma’s waist when he flipped him with ease. Their lower bodies remain joined like lingering heat that refuses to cease.

Yuma shrieks out of surprise at the change, but he makes no move to resist. Instead, he continues to hold Jo's neck with both hands, a cocky grin on his face like the change of position has no effect on him. “You damn dog,” he comments, but there’s no animosity in his tone. His silvery blond hair tousles in disarray, a wayward fringe veiling one of his eyes, yet to Jo, he’s no less gorgeous—no less achingly beautiful under him.

Jo doesn’t waste his time. His pursuit of pleasure leads his senses as he surrenders to his instincts, hitting where it affects Yuma most. Jo holds one of Yuma’s legs from behind his knee, lifting one of his legs up for better angle. Yuma writhes, his muscles tensing when he feels Jo thrust into him in an erratic rhythm as he reaches his prostate. 

“There—oh, God, fuck!!” He curses, head thrown back onto the pillow. The hands that had gripped Jo’s throat now slid down his back, nails pressing hard into his skin. Yuma clutches him like he’s afraid of falling. It’s a stark contrast to his rough and confident way of speaking. Yuma's mouth parts too willingly, Jo thinks, spilling sounds no one but he should hear—and Jo aches to seal it with kisses fierce enough to leave stars behind his eyes. So he leans down, mouth chasing after Yuma’s own greedily. He doesn’t break his rhythm even when the older man moans into his mouth, high and desperate. 

When Jo palms against Yuma’s erection, the Beta’s body jolts—a full body reaction—and he finally climaxes, biting Jo's tongue like it’ll lessen the sparks shooting within. It was reflexive, like Yuma needed something steady to hold onto just to keep himself grounded.

There’s blood on his tongue, but Jo couldn’t care less. Instead, he turns to kiss the lines of Yuma’s collarbones up to his neck, whispering against the expanse of skin that lies before him softly, “You’re so beautiful, Yuma...” His lips were gentle, full of nothing but worship. 

Another kiss, tracing the moles that adorned Yuma’s broad shoulder.

Jo’s hips buck, chasing after the leftover heat just enough to make Yuma arch his back again, body shaking uncontrollably. “So, so warm for me...” 

And another, this time lingering on the corner of Yuma's lips.

Jo slows his pace when he notices Yuma's legs tensing, finally stopped shaking all over his body. 

Yuma’s chest heaves, as if he’s just returned from a place too profound to speak. His eyes are half-lidded, and he still looks like he's living in a dream far too good.

“It’s okay,” he says, his smile forgiving, offering comfort to the Alpha whose face is just inches from his. Jo still keeps a careful distance even when his rut continues to gnaw at him from the inside. Like he’s holding himself back.

Yuma breathes out, soft and slow. “You can bite me,” he says, every syllable ending sweetly. He tilts his head, baring his throat like an offering. His fingers curl around Jo’s neck, pulling him closer, deeper—an unspoken invitation to cross the line. Because he knows that Jo would never ask for more than he’s given. "Do it. Mark me, Jo…” His breath hitches, caught in his throat. It wasn’t an order, and yet, it’s just as urgent. There’s heat in Yuma’s eyes that warns Jo―get too close, and you’ll burn.

Jo, as always, embraces the fate before him if it means his end is in Yuma’s hands.

He nods, his gratitude silent. Jo has been waiting for this: for Yuma to ask, to say it’s okay to want more than what they already have. To be bonded, even when it's instinct that drives Jo and even if it's something Yuma only half understands.  

So Jo brushes his nose against the curve of Yuma’s neck, breathing in the scent he always loved until his lungs could cave. His canines graze skin–he hesitates.

Before doubt can take root, Yuma’s hands tighten at the back of his neck—and Jo sinks his teeth into the flesh that awaits.

It isn’t painless–no, it will never not be painless. Blood seeps out, slow, warm, and real. Jo feels the wince, the jolt, the sharp cry that left Yuma as his teeth continue to carve something meant to last forever. Something to bond them together.

“Shit,” Yuma bites out the pain, eyes half-lidded. His head is still tilted to give Jo space, to let him stay. “Didn’t think it’d hurt that bad. Guess I was… wrong. Awfully so.” His voice is light, teasing, even now. Jo couldn’t help but want to look at his face, but he can’t. Not with his teeth still buried deep in the Beta. 

When his wolf finally stills, Jo pulls back. He licks over the marks he left, careful. Tender.

“It’ll swell for a while,” Jo murmurs, breath warm against Yuma’s skin. His eyes trace the mark now sculpted onto Yuma’s skin, and something flutters inside him. There’s blood on his lips, smeared along the long lines of his teeth, but his voice remains soft. Gentle. “Are you okay?”

Yuma smirks, though it falters at the edges. “I’m fine.” 

Then, slowly, he rolls his hips against Jo experimentally. Teasing. What was done out of pure mischief ended up with their gasps entangled with each other when it affected them most.

“Sh–shouldn’t it be–time, soon?” Oh.

His hands found its hold behind the Beta’s thighs again, parting them just enough for Jo to grind forward, picking up his pace. His rhythm wasn't the same as before, his strokes neither precise nor steady; instead, Jo's movements were sloppy, irregular, though deeper. Like he’s trying to reach a part of Yuma that’s hidden. Still, Yuma didn’t act that differently to the change—he accepted everything Jo gave him, eyes shut to try and keep himself sane. His hands still clung around Jo to keep him there. 

Jo’s brows furrowed—he’s close. But Yuma keeps him there as if they’re supposed to be locked together.

Then, Yuma's voice came, hoarse and low like a whisper. “C’mon–” he urges. A plea, a challenge, a need. “I wanna– wanna feel you..” He’s come undone everywhere, a mess, but his pride is at stake so he can’t afford to let the Alpha leave him just like that.

Jo spills, again and again, his previous release felt all the more different compared to this one. The feverish heat that never quite left him pools around, coiling until his knot begins to form inside. His mind races, heart pounding beneath the sensation of something entirely new to him—being held in warmth that lingers, not just heat, but comfort. Held like he belongs there, like he’s meant to stay.

It’s only then—when the adrenaline begins to fade and the haze lifts—does his mind start to clear. Only then does he hear Yuma, breathless beneath him, trying to breathe steady through everything, through their new predicament.

Yuma grits his teeth as he shifts just slightly, pain blooming sharp where his body struggles to adjust around the sheer size inside him. “So this is it,” Yuma comments, casual as always. “Told you I’ll be fine.” There's pride in his voice, like he’s won something out of this. 

Maybe he has—because Jo’s heart stirs at the sight of him. His scent softens, fading gently into something floral and sweet.

Fingers gently sweeping through the damp, silvery-blonde bangs of his mate, Jo smiles. It’s laced with worry, a trace of guilt. Regret. But there’s gratitude, too. Still, his hand moves with care, wiping away the beads of sweat forming along Yuma’s face.

Jo blinks, trying to form words together, “Yuma, that was.... wow. Thank you.”

There’s a dazed look on Yuma, but it makes him all the more cat-like. “...seriously? You’re thanking me for that?”

Jo nods, and somehow, it made both of them laugh. It’s when Jo accidentally shifted around did they both start wincing in pain, suddenly reminded of their quite literally locked bodies. 

Yuma hums, whether in annoyance, boredom, or quiet amusement, Jo couldn’t tell. It hardly mattered when Yuma’s hand caught Jo’s, their fingers lacing together.

“So, how long, again?”

The Alpha looks around, sheepish. “Uh… around, 20 minutes..”

“Wow.” Yuma blinks, stupefied, and Jo can definitely tell that he hasn’t done his research all that much this whole time. “That’s a lot of time. Wanna kiss?”

Jo doesn’t hesitate. He nods like his life depends on it, and in the next breath, he’s leaning down, letting Yuma pepper him in soft, eager kisses. When he holds Yuma’s hands–when his hands cup Yuma’s face, tracing the soft yet sharp edges of his face, he realizes it. His entire world is reflected in the tender, warm gaze looking right back at him.

Jo thinks, I'd bare my heart to you. Press it to your lips, sink your teeth in if you must. I’d let you.

⋅───⊱☽༓☾⊰───⋅

The air between them was still, quiet.

Their hands were intertwined, legs tangled with one another like a mess. The crumpled sheets under them can only do so much with each move they make with the passing moment.

"You know," Yuma opened up between their shared breaths. That night, under the gentle, cool air of Yuma's room, the two made love for the first time. "It took everything in me to ask you out that day." He whispered to the smooth expand of Jo's skin like a silent secret. As if it wasn't meant to be said until the moment the Alpha veered into the depths of his soul.

Jo heard the ripple of water in his heart. Surprise. Exhilaration. Disbelief.

"Really?" the cool, confident, completely unabashed figure of Nakakita Yuma lingered in his head. He would never leave. 

But maybe, just maybe, the Nakakita Yuma he knows can be just as nervous and as worried as him.

“Yeah. You were so beautiful that I couldn't even look you in the eye. It’s still hard, even now.”

Jo wanted to say the same, but he didn't. He knew a kiss would say it all.

So he kissed Yuma, letting his secrets bleed between their breaths.

.

.

Sometimes, Jo dreams.

But dreams weren't all the same to him. Some glow with warmth, fond memories he'd kept to himself, while others are too raw to speak aloud.

But they belong to him, so he cherishes them as he wakes to find someone beside him.