Chapter Text
The warm glow of the sunset cascades the landscape, painting the clouds vibrant hues of orange and yellows, the lavender fields beneath the skyline take on a similar spirit, ones with rich emerald greens and violet purples that contrast the warm glow of dusk settling in.
Heeseung stands across from Jake, adorning a relaxed white button-up that accentuates the warm honey tone of his skin that's exposed down to his sternum. The milky silk of his sleeves drapes the fabric delicately, the wind wafting the decorative ruffles in the direction of the foothills. His dark hair falls in loose waves that frame his face, unfastened strands drifting to his forehead where they stick to the droplets of sweat beading above his brow. There’s a slight shimmer to his cheekbones, accompanying a soft glimmer in his eyes.
In other words: Heeseung is beautiful.
Jake has to pull his eyes away, unable to bear Heeseung’s enchanting stare. He flushes, ducking his head down to hide the red splotches on his cheeks. Instead, he takes an interest in watching the breeze sweep the lavender rows, making the crops look similar to the waves of the ocean, like the tides drawing into the sand on the beach.
And Heeseung is speaking, his voice rich, unabashed. At first, Jake’s hearing deceives him, not allowing the words to process past his eardrums. His voice flows like a song, talks as if he’s the one singing - a natural cadence, permeated with substance that is beyond the reach of language.
“You have amazed me, in more ways than one.” Heeseung murmurs, a glint of hope filling his irises, using that hope to guide his steps closer to Jake. “And I just can’t help but fall–,” A long-winded pause, the alpha searching into Jake’s eyes for a remnant of reciprocation.
They’re so close like this, mere inches away. Jake can see the texture of Heeseung’s makeup, the individual spikes of his lashes. Jake takes a deep breath as Heeseung grasps his hands, holding them close to the alpha’s chest.
“For you, my love…” He starts again, Jake’s mouth hanging open in awe.
But then, that soft expression is gone in a flash. Like someone flipped a switch.
“Cut!” Heeseung yells abruptly, startling Jake with a jump. Heeseung’s expression returns to its normal, annoyed scowl. He turns around, moving in a circle, with his hands pinching the skin between his eyes. When he releases, they fall to his sides, “Jake, you can’t keep making that face.”
Jake rolls his eyes. Here we go again, he mumbles internally, crossing his arms over his chest, “What face?”
“This entire time we’ve been filming you’ve been making this face — it looks like you’re constipated,” Heeseung huffs, pointing his hand in Jake’s direction, “See! That one.”
Jake leans down, picking at the lavender buds that scrape against his trousers, “I’m sorry–” He’s not. “Who died and made you director?” There’s bitterness in his tone, bitterness that he would never use with a normal co-star. But Heeseung isn’t just any co-star, he’s Heeseung. Controlling, overachieving, perfectionist, Heeseung.
“You’re supposed to be in love with me, now act like it.” He circles his index finger in the air – a motion that Jake has come to know through the weeks of filming together – meaning to start the scene from the top.
And that’s what irks Jake the most; Heeseung is no director, he’s just an actor. Yet he behaves like he belongs in the director’s chair, like he was cast for it. Somehow, nobody on the crew bats an eye.
Heeseung is extremely ill; ill with perfectionism. Perfection is what ossifies his bones, what carries oxygen to his blood, it’s what expands his lungs to breathe. Everything about Heeseung must be perfect, especially his acting, and therefore everyone else's acting within a 5-mile radius.
“It’s really hard to be in love with an asshole,” The omega murmurs under his breath, something he finds himself doing a lot while working with Heeseung.
Heeseung is one of the top actors in Seoul, he’s starred in several blockbuster movies, acting for huge named directors, going to red carpet events and receiving awards that Jake could only dream of— Heeseung is every director’s wet dream, learning and memorizing the script within days of receiving it, understanding the emotion of every character he plays down to the minute mannerisms. Each role he adapts is unique— he has this innate artistic vision that beckons him to the big screen.
And Jake… He’s been in this industry for a long time. He was a child actor, starred in commercials and movie cameos at the ripe age of twelve, and ever since then he’s been in juvenile television shows, indie movies, and just recently had his career really started to bloom.
Despite all of his experience, Jake has never worked with someone as difficult as Heeseung. In the same vein, he’s never worked with someone so renowned.
They seemingly can’t ever get through scenes like this without a fight, without endless bickering, without Heeseung near growling and Jake fighting back tears.
Jake resumes his position at the beginning of the scene, arms still crossed over his chest as he follows Heeseung further into the field.
Heeseung stares at Jake, the intensity burning through him. “I believe you can do much better, Jaeyun.” The words come out soft and gentle, but his gaze holds something different, something dark and sultry, manipulative in nature–– amongst the fake encouragement lies a challenge.
A backhanded compliment, condescension. He looks at Jake as if he’s just a rookie, a one-hit-wonder of the acting realm. He doesn’t see Jake as an equal, just a mildly successful omega whose fame will only last a few fleeting months.
It’s frustrating. Jake's worked hard to be where he is today, which has cost him his entire teenage years. No wonder it keeps Jake up at night, mulling over interactions after interactions that could’ve been swayed a different way if Jake had stood his ground more.
Just because he’s an omega shouldn’t mean he gets this treatment from his coworkers.
That’s just the way things are, or so he’s been told by his mother, an omega. It’s the industry told by his previous makeup artist, they’ve seen the endless cycles, Jake’s convinced. Get over it, the older alphas he worked with, and even some directors.
You’re special, Jaeyun. That one sends a shiver down his spine.
It is the nature of the industry. The nature of the world, even. It’s not just about the treatment, it’s about the bias towards alphas. They’re inherently more successful, more competent, even if it’s their first time acting.
An ugly truth Jake just can’t swallow: Omegas in the film industry, no matter their resumes, are always underdogs.
Maybe that’s why Heeseung gets under Jake’s skin so much. There’s something in Jake that wants to prove to Heeseung that he can do much better, to blow him away with his acting. If only Heeseung would give him the chance.
Jake knows he’s a good actor, regardless of the difference between the trophies and medals his co-star has. But he so desperately wants to prove to Heeseung that he’s worthy of sharing screen time with him. He wants the alpha’s praise. So, when the cameramen are set up again, ready to refilm the scene, they start from the top. Jake does his best to clear his mind, tries to put himself in the shoes of his character — a strong-willed omega that fell in love with an alpha who he’d always loathed the idea of fawning over.
When Heeseung starts reciting his lines — the lines that are supposed to be a huge build-up for the movie — Jake watches his eyes with intrigue, with intent. And it's as if Heeseung is mesmerized, or put under a spell, and he has no other choice but to fumble over his love confession.
At the third ‘I love you’, Jake eagerly grabs Heeseung’s hand, pressing his lips to his soft skin. Up so close, the smell of juniper and iris fill his nostrils. It’s crisp and musky, floral and earthy, and Jake subconsciously melts, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his arms like they beckon him home.
The feeling only benefits his acting, serving as a bridge to immerse himself in the scene.
He peers at the alpha through his lashes, the sun hitting Heeseung’s features just right, the reflection in his eyes making them appear golden.
God, he’s gorgeous. It’s such a shame he’s a raging asshole.
But then Heeseung looks unsure again, and normally Jake would let it slide, but they’ve been trying to film this scene all day, his limbs are tired and the sunlight is dimming. Nothing is working the way anyone wants it to. He can smell the sharp twists of Heeseung’s scent, turning into something more bitter.
It calls to his inner omega. Something is wrong. If it weren’t for Jake’s body being so reactive to Heeseung’s pheromones, then maybe they’d be able to do this scene in no time. He fears Heeseung might feel the same.
“Cut!”
The demand comes from the director this time, rather than from Heeseung.
Jay raises from his seat – a foldable chair that’s been placed in the field by the camera crew – walking over to the two in the field. His index finger taps his bottom lip, there’s a slight shake to his head, and Jake winces.
“I don’t think this is working,” Jay says, voice level, but Jake can sense his frustration.
Heeseung steals a glance at Jake, pressing his lips into a line. There it is again, the faint change in his smell, and Jake despises the way it causes him discomfort. All he can do is hold back a scowl.
Why does he feel like he’s in trouble?
Jay rubs at his temple, sighing in discontent. “We’re done here for today,” Jay says, hands on his hips as he looks at the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Jake immediately asks; he’s not afraid to ask directors such questions. It gives him brownie points, it always does. Directors love an eager-to-please actor.
Jay gives him a weak smile. “You two,” He points between them, his smile faltering, “Need to figure whatever this is out. I don’t know what argument you guys have gotten into – and I don’t care to know either – but I can’t have your personal relations interfering with your work.”
Heeseung nods along with Jay’s words, as if he isn’t the perpetrator.
Jay continues, “I know we changed some of your lines around, believe me, I get it. I really do. But regardless, you’ve proven to me that you guys have no chemistry at all. I don't know what happened. You both were perfect in your partner auditions.”
They’re shooting the scenes out of order, which happens often in film making. Sometimes it aligns with the seasons better, or sometimes it helps the actors to move backwards from the end goal. Jake is used to it, but shooting the love confession this early in production is a bit hard for him, mainly because he doesn’t trust his acting partner.
This may be the third scene they’ve blocked (gone over the pacing and interactions between characters, where the actors stand and move, etc.) together, but it’s the first one with just the two isolated characters, and despite both of them being talented, Jay is right: they have no chemistry.
“I can’t have this happen again.”
“It won’t,” Heeseung interjects, a hand over his heart, “You have my word.”
Jake holds back a scoff.
Jay nods, a part of Jake can tell he’s weary of Heeseung’s pledge. Maybe it’s in the way he stares beyond them, or the sound of defeat as he speaks, “Okay, well, I need you to work it out before we shoot any of your scenes together. We’re already behind schedule.”
And just like that, Jay turns his back and begins his trek to the trailers. The stage crew begins picking up, collecting all of the lighting equipment and cameras.
Jake feels a shiver run up his spine at the prospect of being left alone with Heeseung, whose apologetic smile makes Jake sick.
Jake opts to walk past him, intentionally bumping his shoulder against the alpha’s as he hurries towards the trailers himself. He can’t stand to be in his costume anymore, the lace around his neckline itching and reddening his skin in its wake. He can’t stand the feeling of foundation on his face, or the fear of accidentally rubbing some of it off.
He wants to be in his hotel room. Away from set. Away from the production crew. Away from Heeseung. Away from Alphas.
☆
Once Jake’s back in his hotel room, he spends an outrageous amount of time in the shower.
He’s unaware of how long he stares at the tile, waiting for the water droplets to form streams, ultimately leading to the drain. Feeling the harsh pellets on his skin, trying to unsoil himself, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, until his skin feels raw, until he sees the trail of scarlet flush, until he feels any semblance of normal. He imagines all the energy — bad or good — from the day washing down the drain with every drag of his loofa.
He steps out, his wet feet hitting the tile floor, the water dripping off of him into puddles. He lets gravity accompany the water, from his wet hair to his damp toes – he lets it all fall onto the floor, not bothering to grab a towel. The weight of the droplets relieves something – he doesn’t know what, exactly – with every drip.
It takes a few moments for Jake to even think of grabbing a towel – or the comfy hotel robe, for that matter – but once he does, he manages to get himself to finish his nighttime routine. He must’ve spaced out for a while, because when he looks at the digital clock on the bedside table, it’s near midnight.
He’s about to crawl into bed when he hears a knock at the door, startling him from his cloudy sleep-hungry daze.
“Room service,” a voice calls from the other side. Which is weird; he doesn’t remember ordering anything. How long was he in the shower for?
Without too much thought, he opens the door a crack, enough to see who’s on the other side.
Jake rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of the tiredness, because surely there’s no way Lee Hee-fucking-seung, in his grey sweatpants and loose muscle-shirt, looking seductive as always — even in his sleep attire — is outside his hotel room pretending to be room service. Even after he pries his tired eyes open some more, Heeseung is still there, with a worried look written on his pretty face.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice a bit raspy from the day.
Heeseung smiles softly, and Jake loathes how his heart starts racing, “I brought you food… and wine.”
Jake’s convinced he’s hallucinating. He skeptically opens the door an inch wider, just enough to see the faint outline of a takeout bag in Heeseung’s grip. Belatedly, he realizes he forgot to eat dinner after his shower. And the smell of the food wafts into Jake’s hotel room. He’s hungry, desperately hungry now that he’s aware of it.
Heeseung must have impeccable timing, but Jake’s been in this business too long to be naive. Heeseung must want something.
So, Jake resists, “I don’t want your Girl Scout cookies, go away.” He inches the door closed, but Heeseung all too quickly slides his palm in between the frame. Jake jolts, hoping he didn’t crush any of the alpha’s fingers.
“Jaeyun.” There’s that tone, the tone that sounds like he’s about to be scolded. Jake shivers as Heeseung continues, “Please, I want to talk to you.”
The alpha sounds tired, his voice tinged with exasperation around the edges, and for some reason, it’s enough to guilt Jake into giving up. He opens the door wider and, without a word, leaves it open while he walks to his bed.
Heeseung smiles again, following Jake. He hears the sound of the door click in place, the automatic lock protecting them from the outside.
He bought him food. He wants to talk. He brought him alcohol. He’s in his bed. Jake’s stomach plummets to the floor.
He looks apprehensively at Heeseung, meeting his tender caramel gaze. Heeseung’s pupils are blown wide and deep, flecks of gold reflecting under the gleam of Jake’s bedside lamp.
Jake must be cursed because he’s constantly plagued by his co-star’s good looks.
Jake’s eyes flicker to the bag of food, not able to withstand Heeseung’s dark gaze, which makes the hair on his arms rise. He ogles the bottle — a really expensive wine. His brain recognizes the label all too well.
“Oh.” He points at the bottle. It’s a brand that Jake loves to get himself when he finishes filming a tough scene, or when he’s going to a premiere. “That’s my favorite, how’d you know?”
Heeseung shrugs, nonchalance seeping through his honey-glow skin, his half-lidded eyes lingering on Jake’s lips. He knows he should be flattered, but to Jake, it comes across as smug. “Oh, y’know. I have my sources.”
Jake is just too tired to try to decipher what that all means, or what he wants from Jake. Whether that’s in exchange or coercion. His tired mind brushes it off.
“What did you want to talk about?” Jake asks, the words tumble out bitterly. Normally, he’d have a better filter, but today he doesn’t find it in him to care. He was interrupted from his chance to go to bed early, to reset from the god awful day. Now he’s face-to-face with the brunt of his worries, who is bringing him food and alcohol, when all he wants is to crash and never wake up.
Heeseung removes the take-out from the paper bag, revealing hot, steaming plastic bowls of ramen. He opens the bottle of wine with his keys, angling it with the right amount of force for the cork to pop off. Small wisps of bubbles and fog cloud the glass, spilling over the top, soiling the stale air.
Jake loves a fresh bottle of wine, and somehow, Heeseung knows this.
Jake didn’t want to end up like this, but… he has to admit: that was attractive. Still, Jake would never go for Heeseung. He’s… Heeseung.
“I wanted to ask you how you were feeling after today.”
“I’m fine,” Jake states coldly, watching as Heeseung pours the red liquid into a plastic cup he pulled from the takeout bag. Heeseung hands Jake a bowl, chopsticks, and lastly the wine. Their fingers graze at hand-off, and Jake represses the side of him that craves to have contact again.
He doesn’t hesitate to chug it. He’s opted to have this conversation while under the influence. After the cup is emptied, he pops off the lid to his takeout and notes how the food in front of him stirs the hunger.
Heeseung gives Jake an endeared chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “That’s good, I’m glad,” he says, starting to shovel noodles into his mouth while staring at Jake with those wide doe eyes. Jake hates how much of a gentleman Heeseung can be; all that PR training is really starting to work in his favor. Heeseung sips his wine before he starts again, “What did you think about what Jay said today?”
Something in that question irritates Jake, mixing with the alcohol and long day, he finds it hard to hold himself back. His mind rushes to the worst possible assumptions: that’s what Heeseung is here for, right? To pick on Jake? The only other reason Jake could think of is that he wants to have sex with Jake, which shouldn’t be his first assumption, but isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds; this isn’t his first rodeo.
What else would a power-hungry alpha want?
Jake stops in his tracks, and the familiar feeling of disappointment washes over him. Heeseung’s just like the rest of them. He hoped that under the gimmick - beautiful face, pretentious, famous actor, perfectionist - there was a human in there somewhere.
“Look. If you came here to reprimand me, just say what you need to say and leave.” Jake starts to stab at the noodles with the chopsticks, eating a little too fast to be considered normal.
Heeseung’s eyes blow wider, if that's even possible. “Reprimand? I didn’t — What? Jaeyun—“
“—It’s Jake to you. Stop calling me that.”
Jake stares at Heeseung as he stumbles over his words. Is he nervous?
“Why would I come here to reprimand you? Jake, are you… Did I give you that impression?” Heeseung pours more wine into Jake’s cup as he talks, using a lower register that sounds more serious than normal.
“‘Give me that impression’?” Jake mocks, huffing out a chuckle that he feels has been buried deep in his chest ever since they started working together. He presses the cup to his lips, “You’re full of shit, I hope you know that. Getting me food just so you can continue to pick me apart every five fucking seconds? I'm technically off-the-clock. Who do you think I am?”
There goes another cup of wine.
He should probably stop. It’s starting to make his brain fuzzy. He’s warm all over, there’s a buzzing spreading across his skin. But he reaches for more out of spite, pouring his own this time and filling it to the brim.
“I didn’t come here to pick you apart.”
“Oh, right, yeah, because you came here to ‘talk’, to ‘ask about my feelings’. What do you actually want from me?” Jake doesn’t know why he’s being so loud, it registers too late that his voice probably carries to the hallway. He blames the alcohol.
Heeseung looks at Jake with those big, wide, searching eyes. He doesn’t look hurt, his expression is curious, possibly confused — and that just adds fuel to Jake’s fire. He can feel his anger burning beneath the hair on his arms, under his skin, in his blood — combining with the alcohol, making it hard to separate his anger from his rationality.
Another chug.
“I don’t want anything from you Jaeyu- sorry, Jake. Seriously. I came to clear the air.” Heeseung acquires a sternness to his tone. His gaze drags over the omega, taking a long sip from his cup. It’s finished within seconds. “I want us to work well together, I don’t want whatever this is. It feels like you’re scared– or, or intimidated by me.”
“Well, I’m not. That’s your alpha ego talking,” Jake snaps back. It’s all too easy to have his bearings up, to be intoxicated and unfiltered; to give Heeseung a taste of his own medicine.
Jake’s the first to admit that sometimes it’s necessary to be like this, especially as a male omega, which isn’t common in the industry. There are a lot of people who look at Jake and all they can see is the superficial stuff, things that don’t matter.
Heeseung’s posture reads defeated, hanging his head low, slumping his shoulders into his chest, and staring into the broth of his bowl, “Jake…” he begins, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper, “If we’re going to work together, we need to get along. Otherwise, we’re basically ruining our careers.”
Jake watches the swirling of broth and veggies in his bowl, luring over that sentence. “You’re being ridiculous,” he says, turning his head to the side.
“Am I?” Heeseung asks sincerely. “This whole industry is a huge spider web. You and I both know that.”
Heeseung might have a point.
As Jay put it, having no ‘chemistry’ while acting is just making it more difficult for the entire crew. It takes longer to film, everyone has to stay later just to get the perfect shot, it wastes a lot of precious time. Jake and Heeseung bickering is not good for either of their reputations. Who knows what sort of rumors will get around?
No director would want to work with them after one bad review. Not to mention the subpar quality of their work.
It’s too late for Jake’s career to be ruined – he's trying to build his name from the ground up – Jake hates to admit it, but still, Heeseung is right.
“What do you suggest we do?” He asks honestly.
“Why don’t we… I don’t know. Try to get to know each other better?” Heeseung proposes, it comes out of his mouth innocently, but Jake doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on Jake’s wine-stained lips.
“Like that’s going to do anything.” Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.
Heeseung hums, “Well, for starters, I think we need to build some trust.”
Trust. The last time Jake trusted someone in the industry, well, let’s just say it didn’t serve him any good. But it does give Jake an idea of how he can get Heeseung on his side.
“Okay, let's build trust,” Jake says easily, letting his hands fall to his thighs with a clap. Deep down, Jake knows he’s starting a challenge. Deep down, he knows it’s wrong. “Kiss me.”
Heeseung’s eyes go wide, and the noodles he’s shoveling into his mouth slip between his chopsticks.
“Um, what?” Heeseung asks, choking a bit on the noodles that managed to stay in his mouth.
Jake looks him up and down, effectively sizing the man up. “You heard me, kiss me,” He repeats, deadpan and blunt.
Heeseung shifts on the bed, not to get closer to Jake, of course, but to make sure he’s not imagining things. Sure, Jake knows his proposal is out of the blue, but they’re looking for solutions here. Why not give it a chance, right?
The alpha clears his throat, “Can I ask why?”
“You want to build trust, so what's more trusting than making out with someone? Besides, we have to kiss on set anyway.”
Heeseung blinks a couple of times, and normally Jake would be annoyed – because he hates a dumb alpha – but oddly enough, he finds it endearing when it’s Heeseung.
He’s redacting what he thought earlier. He would never try for Heeseung… unless he has had three cups of wine, been pampered with food, and Heeseung’s hair is falling onto his forehead messy but effortless; his eyes sultry and half-lidded from the alcohol (or Jake’s sudden request), hesitantly sitting back with his legs spread and licking the last bit of broth from his lips.
Heeseung isn't immune to the alcohol; he too has had a few drinks.
And Jake is reminded that there’s a reason the alpha is a famous actor — not just because he’s talented.
He’s hot.
The air turns thick with Heeseung’s unspoken response and a long stretch of silence that's not unwelcome; it’s lathered with tension and sex appeal.
Or maybe it's just Jake. Maybe his scent is putting his arousal on full display, and maybe Heeseung is basking in it.
Whatever. Jake impulsively grabs the bowl from Heeseung’s hands, setting it on the side table near his bed, and scoots closer. He puts a hand on Heeseung’s arm, his boldness fueled by the wine in his system, starting to smooth over the skin there with soft circles, egging him on. “Kiss. Me.” It’s breathy, purposeful.
He tilts his chin downward, watching his deliberate caressing. He keeps his head tilted while his eyes flicker to Heeseung’s, watching his surprise through his lashes.
Alcohol never fails to make Jake insatiably horny. More horny than his normal. He can’t put all the blame on the alcohol, though, the bickering and tension between them the past couple of weeks has had Jake wanting for Heeseung to shut him up and fuck him until he’s speechless.
Heeseung shrugs off Jake’s arm, furrowing his brows, “W-what are you doing?”
Jake bites his lips, suddenly self-conscious and just wanting Heeseung’s lips on his. Wanting his hands roaming all over him. Wanting and desperately missing the feeling of being wanted. It’s complicated.
He bats his lashes, slipping into a haze where his body has a mind of its own. Leaning in closer to Heeseung, his mouth pressed against the shell of Heeseung’s ear, he whispers breathlessly, “I’m just trying to get to know you better.”
Heeseung shivers, the musk of jasmine getting stronger, it’s sticky, and Jake thinks he wants to drown in it.
“I meant talking not—”
The alpha is cut off when Jake takes the lower shell of his ear between his teeth. Heeseung gasps, the release of his hot breath reaching the back of Jake’s neck. He pulls away, giving Heeseung his ‘fuck me’ eyes, only to ask, “Don’t you want to fix our chemistry?”
Heeseung doesn’t respond.
Jake takes that as an initiative to crawl into his lap, to surround him. He presses his lips on Heeseung’s. It’s frenzied, desperate. Jake wastes no time sliding his tongue into the alpha’s mouth, earning a surprised noise as he suckles on his tongue deliberately.
Although Heeseung is reluctant, hovering his hands over the thin of Jake’s waist, the omega is practically surrounded by his arousal — it’s sudden, unexpected, but it carries so thick in the air it could be considered fog. Jake could get high off of it; secondhand smoking the alpha’s temptation.
Jake knows Heeseung won’t complain. Isn’t this what he wanted anyway? Isn’t this all that alphas think Jake's good for?
“Call me pretty,” the omega demands between the parting of their lips, only to crash back into him, digging deep into Heeseung’s mouth with his tongue until he’s gasping for air— and even then, he doesn’t stop. He craves Heeseung, all of him, and he’ll do just about anything to get him.
Heeseung pulls away with a wet squelch, a string of pearly spit connecting their lips.
The alpha presses his forehead against Jake’s, “You’re so fucking pretty, Jake.” There’s a small upward tilt to the corners of Heeseung’s lips, like he’s looking at Jake with a new kind of admiration, one he’s not used to.
Jake’s stomach lurches. He’s not sure if he can handle that.
Jake cards his hands through Heeseung’s hair, testing the waters by grinding his hips against Heeseung’s. The alpha moans in response, matching Jake’s motion with his hips. They find a tempo that works for them, Jake finds the angle he needs to pull little noises out of Heeseung, the angle where he can feel the alpha’s strain through his jeans. “Again.”
Heeseung lets out a breathy laugh, “Jake. This isn’t–”
“Please. Hee, tell me I'm pretty.” It teeters on a whine, he’s not sure what has taken over him, what sex demon has possessed his mind — his body — but he doesn’t want it to stop. He cups Heeseung’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at Jake, to take him in. “C’mon, I know you’ve thought about it. Tell me.”
Jake grinds down again, this time on a mission. He rocks his hips fast and hard, pecking soft kisses down Heeseung’s neck that devolves into nibbles and harsher bites as he sucks the salty skin into his mouth.
Heeseung groans, his breathing picking up. “You’re beautiful, Jake. You’re gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you today.”
Jake soaks in the compliment like a sponge. He adores bathing in the sweet words pouring out of Heeseung's mouth. All of it goes straight to his dick.
His hands roam to the hem of Heeseung’s shirt, teasing the skin underneath with gentle scratches before he lifts the fabric over Heeseung’s head. He tosses his shirt to the floor, pushing Heeseung down with a wild rush of adrenaline, making his movements bold and determined, until his back hits the plush of the mattress.
Jake hovers over Heeseung’s hip, bending down to lick and lap at Heeseung’s chest. He bites and sucks and tastes all the way down to his stomach, where Heeseung shivers.
He can feel the slick soaking his own boxers, he can feel it every time he presses down onto Heeseung’s groin, where his prominent bulge is— Is it awful for Jake to be proud of himself for being the reason Heeseung’s that hard?
The alpha grabs a fistful of Jake’s hair to bring him back down and envelope him in a chaste kiss. Jake whines, it’s not what he wants. He wants the alpha’s obsession, possession; he wants to make him go crazy with animalistic desire.
The omega acts quickly, his fingers finding the waistband of Heeseung’s sweatpants, pulling them down and wiggling, trying to make the fabric disappear.
Heeseung laughs, “Here, here. I got it.” He lifts his hips, tugging down his sweatpants to where they pool at his ankles. Jake’s mouth waters at the sight of Heeseung’s cock restrained by his boxers.
The scent of their arousals intertwine in the air, filling the room with a stifling hotness that clings like dew to their skin. Jake grips Heeseung’s cock through the fabric of his boxers, he kneads the flesh while he watches Heeseung’s hips twitch upwards. Jake smiles innocently, “You should fuck me.”
Heeseung lifts himself on his elbows, his scent becoming less stifling. One hand landing on the thin of the omega’s wrist to stop him, the concern on the alpha’s face evident. “Let’s... Let’s slow down, yeah?”
Jake whines, he attempts to hide his disappointment, but he still pouts, “You don’t want to fuck me? I’m letting you hit.” There’s a gleam in the omega's eyes. He is giving Heeseung his best face card, the sultry eyes that he’s mastered and will continue to use over and over again.
“I- Things are just heated, I want to make sure this is what you want.” Heeseung slides a hand up and down Jake’s arm to comfort him, but Jake is too caught up in the fact that Heeseung isn’t inside him.
“I do want it. I want you.”
Heeseung sighs, adjusting, putting too much distance between them, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, abandoning Jake in the middle. Jake feels a sting in the back of his eyes, he blames it on his omega instincts wanting to be close to an alpha whose scent is clearly aroused, although now, much more subtle.
“Is that the three glasses of wine talking, or you?”
Jake groans, loud and dragged out, “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I can smell the changes in your scent at rehearsals. I’m not crazy.”
Heeseung looks Jake up and down, contemplating, “No, of course you’re not. A-and believe me, I want to too, of course I do. You’re — I'm just hesitant. You drank a lot really quickly, Jake.”
“I’m coherent, a few drinks aren’t going to change how fucking hot you are.”
“Jake.” He tries, using his stern voice.
Jake doesn’t play into it, “I’ve thought about it too, just so you know. So it’s fine, Heeseung. Please.”
He reaches for Heeseung’s hand, pulling on his wrist until he can place it on Jake’s bulge, pressing Heeseung's palm firmly against his dick, rolling his hips to get some sort of friction that Heeseung is withholding from him.
Jake whines, intentionally making small gasping noises to entice the alpha. He stares at Heeseung through his lashes, biting his lip, “Please. Touch me.”
The alpha’s eyebrow raises, and Jake can just tell he’s losing what's left of his control, giving in to Jake’s temptation, “Are you sure?”
Jake nods enthusiastically, “Yes, please, fill me alpha.”
Using his alpha ego seems to be the thing to stir him on, his concern dissipates into a predatory gaze.
Heeseung crawls on top of Jake and sits between Jake’s legs, kissing his neck while he sheds Jake’s pajama shorts and boxers off in one go. His hands slide along his inner thighs within seconds, causing Jake’s hips to twitch from the sensitivity.
Heeseung presses a finger and circles it around Jake’s opening, smearing the slick there and causing Jake’s breath to catch in his throat. Heeseung brings that hand up to his mouth, taking in his slick-covered finger, gathering spit, and pressing it to Jake’s cunt. Then, Jake feels pressure. Heeseung glides his finger in with little thrusts, and Jake squirms.
And when Heeseung gradually adds more digits, Jake is practically mush.
This is not new to him, Jake has fucked many alphas, but something about Heeseung makes his instincts run wild. He grasps at Heeseung’s shoulders, clinging to him, digging his fingers into his flesh. He’s trying to keep the alpha’s fingers lodged in his hole, rocking his hips against the intrusion, searching for more.
Heeseung angles them just right, and Jake’s hips cant, gushes of slick soaking the alpha’s fingers, and filling up the room with the scent of honey and vanilla.
Heeseung pulls his fingers out, smiling down at the omega tortuously, brushing his unused digits along the dip of his jaw, “Someone is eager.” He coos.
Jake frowns, not understanding why Heeseung is holding out on him. Does he not want Jake the way Jake wants him? Does he not think Jake’s pretty enough? Is he not good at this?
“Shh, hey, hey. You’re okay, honey” The alpha coos, releasing calming pheromones to counteract the anxious bitterness blooming from Jake’s. Heeseung presses his lips to Jake’s forehead as he mumbles, “Do you have condoms?”
Jake’s head spins from the pet name, honey. It’s so domestic, it influences the sting behind his eyes, the dampening of his waterline. It doesn’t seem like much, but to Jake, no alpha has ever been so gentle with him.
He reaches over the bed, turning away so Heeseung can’t see the wayward tear that strolls down his cheek. He’s searching for his night-bag on the nightstand. What? He keeps the essentials in there: Chapstick, condoms, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
Jake throws the condom at Heeseung, resuming his position beneath him, this time spreading his legs wide so Heeseung can see him, all of him.
Heeseung pulls his boxers off at the same time that he uses his teeth to open the condom packet, his cock hard and big, throbbing against his stomach. Jake’s eyes watch eagerly, waiting for Heeseung to finish rolling the condom on. As soon as he does, Jake’s hands grasp Heeseung, giving his cock a few pumps before he leads it to his opening.
His legs wrap around Heeseung’s back as he begins to push in. One thing Jake didn’t expect from the alpha was the amount of eye contact as he drives his cock further into his cunt. Jake moans when he bottoms out, biting his lips and staring up at Heeseung through his lashes as the pleasure blurs all his thoughts to a pleasant numbness.
The alpha begins his shallow thrusts. It’s slow, but the feeling of the alpha’s cock lodged in him is enough to have Jake’s mouth hang open, his head falling against the pillow as he closes his eyes, letting the alpha rut into him and allowing him to take.
Jake's willing to have Heeseung take whatever he wants, until Jake's sensations overcome him and he can’t talk.
“Pretty,” Heeseung grunts, his hands finding refuge on Jake’s waist, kneading the flesh there. Jake opens his eyes, looking down at where he and the alpha are connected— where he aches for more.
“Faster.” Jake moans, “Fuck me like you mean it. Knot me.”
“You’re such a needy omega,” He says, sprawling his hands on either side of Jake so he can steady himself, his thrust setting a brutal pace, making sharp moans and whimpers escape from Jake’s wet lips. He already feels the threat of his orgasm looming.
Heeseung grabs Jake’s cock, pumping it slowly, not at all on beat with his thrusts. Regardless, it numbs Jake’s mind to the point where all he can feel is pressure in his abdomen, building and building, the hot coil in his gut ready to release.
“You take cock so well.” The alpha grunts, and Jake can tell through his wrecked-out voice and dirty talk that he’s close too. “Tell me, do you sleep with all your co-stars?”
Jake freezes.
His blood runs cold, his chest squeezes, and everything starts to feel wrong. So, so wrong. What was feeling so blissful and overwhelming is now sharp, painful.
Heeseung’s hips stutter, the movement suddenly stopping. He doesn’t pull out. “Are you okay?”
“Get out.” It’s blunt, it’s brash, but Jake is suddenly stone cold sober, and he cannot stand to have this piece of shit in his hotel room.
Heeseung pulls out, which shouldn’t surprise Jake, but it does. Jake’s walls clenched around him from the pain. But the relief of not having Heeseung in him brings tears to Jake’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, did I do som—”
“I said. Get. Out.” Jake yells. He points at the door and gathers his clothes, covering his overexposed body with them, “Get. the. fuck. out.”
He must look hysteric– his face burns red with tears streaming down his face, his breath heaving from how tight his chest feels, his hair fucked up and sticking to his forehead from the sins they’ve committed. But he doesn’t care, nor does he care that he’s blue-balling the alpha. Heeseung is lucky he’s not being murdered right now.
Heeseung’s expression is similar to a deer in headlights, his eyes shot so wide and his cock still hard, still throbbing. He’s quick to gather his boxers and sweatpants and shove his limbs into them. He doesn’t bother to put on his shirt, only clutching it in his hands as he gives Jake one last look— one that Jake can’t decipher, but it’s probably fear.
Good, he should be scared, Jake thinks to himself.
And then the door shuts loudly, the lock clicking into place. The silence thrums in Jake’s ears, but it’s oddly comforting.
He doesn’t bother to clean up.
He lets his sobs fill the silence of the night, allows the tears to roll down and burn his cheeks until there’s nothing left but a dry heave and violent shaking and a major headache.
He falls asleep like that.
☆
Heeseung wakes to the sound of his phone ringing next to his pillow; the only light illuminating the hotel room is coming from the bright screen that’s assaulting his retinas. He’s too tired and blinded to bother to look at the caller, but he answers anyway with a groan.
“You’re off the hook,” it’s Jay. Heeseung can recognize that voice from anywhere.
Maybe Heeseung missed something or the call buffered, because ‘off the hook’ isn’t computing in his brain, not this early in the morning. Can he even call it morning when it’s pitch black outside?
He must’ve taken too long to think, because Jay’s already answering all the questions running through his mind, “Jake called out sick this morning. We’ll reschedule filming for that scene, again.”
Shit.
Jake is not sick - is Heeseung’s immediate thought, of course, he’s not going to say that to Jay. It’s Jake’s business anyway, not his.
“Anyways, just go to the styling team at noon, other than that you’re not called today. Thought I’d let you know before you show up like a jackass.” Jay chuckles, although no humor sticks to any of his words.
“Thanks,” is all Heeseung can say with his sleep-ridden haze. His voice is thick, raspy, and he hates it. He tries to clear his throat, “Thanks, Jay. I’ll see you soon.”
And he hangs up, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.
Jake is not sick, that’s for sure. Jake is definitely avoiding Heeseung, and understandably so. Heeeseung recognizes that his words were quite virtuous.
The night previous, Heeseung crawled into bed, cursing at himself for ruining something seemingly romantic, something seemingly good for them - no matter how impulsive and spontaneous it was.
He’s not totally sure how it happened anyway. One minute, he was bringing food and wine to Jake to make amends, two filled red solo cups and a very tempting offer later, and he’s deep inside the warmth of Jaeyun’s walls.
At the very least, he was hoping it would improve their acting. Their chemistry, if you will.
He briefly debates texting him, but the image of Jake’s face when he started sobbing while kicking him out of the room haunts him. His hair was sticking up in different directions, his face red as a tomato, a long stream of tears pooling into a pond at the corners of his mouth, his voice deeply hurt and wet. It’s like a flip had switched - turned into a completely different person - just from a heated question.
And really, Heeseung wasn’t trying to humiliate Jake. He was overtaken by a stupid possessive alpha instinct – one that he deeply regrets ever giving into – thinking with his knot, and not with his brain.
It was meant to be a light jab. One that says ‘this is out of the blue’ without sounding like a nerd.
He regrets it. He regrets saying the thing he did. He repents ever entering his hotel room, trying to make amends— he never intended on sleeping with Jake. That’s very unlike him.
But Jake has this enticing aura, he has this hard-to-get attitude, yet, in the first second they’re alone, he jumps on Heeseung’s dick.
And yeah, maybe Heeseung liked it. Maybe Heeseung thinks the omega’s cute. Yeah, maybe Heeseung thinks he’s talented. Maybe Heeseung is intrigued by Jake’s interesting demeanor, which is certainly unprofessional. Maybe he desperately wishes to please him – alpha hormones or whatever the fuck.
After last night, though, Heeseung's starting to sober up. Not just from the drinks, but from Jake. This entire time, Heeseung's been interested in Jake, in getting to know him better and hopefully finding something there.
Jake is fascinating, and not just because Heeseung may or may not find the omega alluring - that’s irrelevant – but he wants to learn all about Jake. He’s never had such deadly curiosity about anyone before.
Heeseung shakes his head, trying to rid the memories of last night and all his regrets and what-ifs that taunt him.
His head throbs with the frustration and lingering wine battling his system as he puts on a fresh T-shirt and sweatpants. He’s going to be fitted and styled anyway, so presentation doesn’t concern him as much as it normally would.
A brief fluff of his hair, a quick brush of his teeth, and a splash of water to his face for good measure, and he’s off.
Closing the door behind him, he adjusts the strap of his bag, his eyes wandering to the door next to his.
Jake’s room.
Heeseung could knock and check on him, a deep part of him wants to, but he knows the reaction it will pull from Jake. It’s better to leave him alone.
So he walks, forcing his body to just stroll past and forget.
☆
He’s in a suit the second he enters the styling trailer, Sunoo – the lead stylist – hovering around Heeseung with far too many pins in a stuffed tomato for Heeseung to feel entirely comfortable - he’s had some poking incidents in his time as an actor.
“So… how’d it go?” Sunoo prods, a tantalizing grin on his face, but laser-focused eyes. He’s pinning the collar of Heeseung’s suit jacket, unfortunately, mere inches away from Heeseung’s face.
Oh, right. Heeseung forgot he had asked Sunoo for dinner suggestions last night. For what Jake loves to eat, for his favorite beverage.
“Well, he was really surprised by the wine.” Heeseung supplies instead, avoiding. He doesn’t want to talk about it, he’s not ready to. He hasn’t even allowed his conscience to think about it— no matter how unwilling his brain is to listen.
The omega scoffs, adjusting the pins he settled on Heeseung’s lapel, “Don’t be shy. Spill. I want all the details.” His face is dangerously close to Heeseung’s, to the point where he feels his glaring eyes on his chest can see right through him, to his thrumming heart.
Heeseung turns the other direction, not able to watch Sunoo’s fierce eyes flicker between him and his work. He doesn’t know where to start, or where to stop, for that matter. Instead, he lets the air get stiff. He allows himself to succumb to the awkwardness of the situation.
How is he supposed to tell the omega how it went without telling him it took a rather explicit turn? Even better, how does he explain Jake kicking him out before they even finished?
“Heeseung, I'll never give you ‘Jake advice’ ever again…” Sunoo threatens.
Truthfully, Heeseung went to Sunoo for information because he’s a lot closer to Jake than Heeseung, and Heeseung was more than desperate. If he’s going to survive filming and promotion, he’s going to need all the ‘Jake advice’ he can get.
“Fine, fine.” Heeseung says, begrudgingly, “I went to his room with the stuff you suggested, and everything was fine…”
“Really?” Sunoo’s skeptical eyes flicker to Heeseung’s.
“Really.” Heeseung supplies, not missing a beat. But then Sunoo raises an eyebrow, and that menacing glare makes Heeseung’s stomach burn. Normally, he can lie and get away with it, but Sunoo sees right through him. “I mean, we did kinda bicker for a bit, but eventually I was able to convince him that bickering is not the way to go. But…”
Sunoo nods, gently shrugging off the suit jacket from Heeseung’s body. Bringing it to the nearest desk, he sets it on the table to add more pins to the lineup. “But… continue.” Sunoo insists, gesturing with his free hand.
Heeseung sighs, “Well, then Jake started… Ugh, I don’t even know how to describe it. Jake— he was, like, hitting on me all of a sudden? Like, really hitting on me.”
Sunoo giggles, the abruptness staggers Heeseung.
“Ooh, classic Jake,” Sunoo remarks, making it sound like an endearing trait of Jake’s, but in Heeseung’s eyes, it really shouldn’t be.
“Classic Jake?”
Sunoo quirks his head to the side, “It’s just a very Jake thing for him to do. You wouldn’t understand. Just— continue. I’m hooked.” Sunoos demands, hanging up the garment on a hanger and putting it on a rack elegantly labeled ‘needs work’.
The thing is, Heeseung doesn’t want to continue. The next part is incriminating. It shouldn’t ever leave the bedroom, a little secret between Jake and Heeseung - Heeseung doesn’t kiss-and-tell.
Sunoo throws a dress shirt at Heeseung’s face, it lands heavily, wacking hard into his eye socket. He winces from the impact, grasping the garment. Upon inspection, the intricate beading around the neckline is abrasive and heavy. He supposes it’s going under his suit jacket.
“Well, he was drinking and I was drinking and one thing led to another…”
“You’re kidding!” Sunoo gasps, sheltering his slacked jaw with his hand. He pulls up the chair in front of the makeup vanity, ignoring his other responsibilities to stare straight at Heeseung with full attention. “You did not fuck him. Tell me you didn’t fuck him.”
Heeseung can’t help the way his ears light up with pink. He doesn’t know if Sunoo’s disbelief is a good or bad thing. He opts for silence, hoping that says enough.
“Put that on,” Sunoo interrupts, his tone sharp and nagging. It falters within seconds, so intrigued by Heeseung’s story, “So… yes or no did you guys get it on?”
Heeseung winces at the omega’s word choice as he pulls the curtain to cover himself while he changes his top. “I mean, it wasn’t one of my brightest moments–”
“Obviously.”
Heeseung lets out a breathy laugh, unbuttoning the shirt to slip his lanky arms into. “But, Jake kinda freaked out on me and kicked me out— like, out of nowhere.”
The alpha opens the curtain to show Sunoo the dress shirt, although he’s slouching with the part of the story he doesn’t want to say.
Sunoo’s eyes narrowed into slits, like Sunoo already knew the crimes Heeseung committed, as if something like this had happened before. “Why? Did you say something stupid?” Then, he takes in the view of Heeseung, backing up with his hands out in the air. “Also, I really outdid myself with that top. It fits you so well.”
Heeseung finds the duality of Sunoo intriguing. One moment he’s interrogating, a little intimidating, the next, he’s a total gossip.
Heeseung looks down at the white dress shirt, the beads swirling in patterns against the silk fabric, making intricate whirlwinds of different oblique globules - catching on the light above, reflecting dazzling fragments of rainbows. The craftsmanship is quite exquisite, and the fit hugs all of the right angles of his torso.
He can’t help but smile when he looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting the collar of the shirt so it sits well against his collarbones. He looks expensive.
Sunoo is a fantastic stylist, always curating an ensemble of harmonious hues, unique and period-appropriate pieces. It’s no surprise he picked and altered something that Heeseung would never imagine himself wearing— but its aesthetic matches his character and the set beautifully.
“Heeseung, answer the question,” Sunoo resumes, snapping Heeseung out of his mirror ogling. He didn’t even realize Sunoo moved behind him, pinning the backside of Heeseung’s collar.
Heeseung sighs, slouches, and covers his eyes in shame. “I– I asked him if he did that sorta thing with all his co-stars.”
This time, Heeseung sees the shock on Sunoo’s face through the mirror. He gasps audibly, both hands cuffing over his mouth and his eyes nearly pop out from their sockets.
“You did not.” Sunoo blurts, his words drawn out and exaggerated, meanwhile spinning Heeseung around to look him in the eyes instead of the mirror.
Heeseung nods, gulping down his regrets. “I did.”
“You did not,” Sunoo repeats, his wide eyes scanning the room with his lingering disbelief.
“I did.”
“Heeseung.”
“What? Was it really that bad? I mean, I’ll say sorry, but it’s not the end of the–”
“‘Not the end of the world’? Heeseung, you can’t say that to Jake– of all people.” Sunoo is clutching the fabric of his sweater over his chest. Regardless of the intention, Sunoo’s wording makes him feel worse than he already did. Why is Jake the worst person to say that to?
“I didn’t think it was that bad? I mean, I was drunk and feeling–”
“No. It is bad. Like, you fucked up. You really fucked up.” He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his tone is gentler, “Jake’s touchy with that stuff, and you basically called him a slut while you–”
“Don’t.” He interrupts, not needing a third party to spell out his mistake. Massive mistake, apparently. “I get it, I do. Just tell me what I have to do.”
Sunoo shakes his head, “You might not bounce back from this one.”
Heeseung lets out a long, disgruntled noise, frustrated with himself. If he knew Jake was so sensitive, this whole ordeal would have been completely avoided simply by Heeseung abstaining from sex with him. But Heeseung still just doesn’t get it. Why is it such a crime?
It feels like maybe it should be something you apologize for and move on from, but why is it so specific to Jake?
Heeseung sighs. He has to make it up to Jake somehow, again.
☆
When Heeseung returns to his hotel, he immediately sits down at his laptop – yeah, he brought some of his gaming setup, knowing they’d be in this hotel for a long while, and maybe he’d have some free time.
But tonight, Heeseung uses it for a different reason. The great thing about being an actor is you can look up any co-star and their name will show up on any search engine if they’re well-known. Lucky for Heeseung, Jake has been acting longer than him - since he was a kid, really.
So typing in ‘Sim Jaeyun’ was not the problem. The screen displayed pictures of Jake on red carpets, his endearing smile on full display, and his hair combed back. Next to his photo, of course, is his discography, his birthday, and an overview.
Heeseung doesn’t entirely know what he’s looking for, but he knows that there’s something about Jake that maybe, just maybe, he can dig up to make sense of any of this.
He becomes acquainted with all the roles Jake’s played over the years, finding that he’s been acting since he was twelve years old. There are even some films Heeseung had watched when he was younger, and didn’t realize a younger version of Jake was in them.
Heeseung scans the computer screen with precision, skimming through articles and journals, news reports, biographies, everything under the sun. So much of it is interviews, the upcoming films he is set to perform in, and dating rumors.
Actually, there are numerous dating rumors. Heeseung gets them too, but on rare occasions, especially with film partners, but Jake’s dating rumors seem to be endless.
It might just be that he’s been in the public eye for longer, or because he’s an omega and people might want to catch him in more scandals. Heeseung doesn’t know.
In bright blue text, Heeseung sifts through headline after headline, becoming bored and almost giving up, until one particular headline catches his eye:
‘Judge Dismisses Child Actor Sim Jaeyun’s Sexual Assault Charges Against Former Director’
His stomach sinks. He feels like he isn't supposed to see that, but it answers his question. Heeseung is all too quick to click out of the tab. He moves the cursor over his settings, going to his search history to clear it, to erase it from his conscience.
He rubs at the area where his heart should be - feeling the solid thrum and beat of it, feeling the rapid pulsating. He turns off his laptop entirely, not able to stomach the bright light amongst the darkness of his hotel room.
Heeseung is left with only the soft glow of the moon peering in through the window. The rest of the room remains pitch black. A sorrowful darkness that surrounds him, swallows him whole –- feeling all too consuming and above all, his heart aches for Jaeyun.