Chapter Text
Music pulses through the room. Waves of bass and synths bounce off every surface with nowhere to go. It's loud enough that it turns into a blurry buzzing that drowns out thoughts and good decisions. A hazy smolder hangs in the air despite the fact that smoking is prohibited. But the burn that lingers is less like nicotine and more like wildfire. It further ignites the murky pull of the club.
Hongjoong can feel the room wrap around him and sip as if preparing to swallow him whole. The hum overwhelms him—especially since the club is a rare indulgence. He has to carefully sit himself at the bar to prevent a dizziness from overtaking him.
He has barely even finished one drink.
Yunho is further down the bar, flirting with the bartender, evidently unaffected by the atmosphere that is devouring Hongjoong.
Hongjoong stumbles over to him, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and he swears he feels a slight tinge of ash burn his throat.
Without even thinking he turns to the bartender and asks, “Is there, like, a fireplace in here?”
Both Yunho and the stranger look at him in confusion.
“...no?”—”Are you okay, Hongjoong?” They speak at the same time.
Hongjoong blinks a few times and realizes that he can't discern the scent anymore. Maybe it really is just something faint in the air. He glances toward the hazy mass of people on the dance floor. He can only assume it's from some kind of smoke machine or something.
The room is stiflingly hot though. A bead of sweat drips down his neck.
“Yea. I'm good. I guess I was just feeling a little lightheaded earlier.” A burnt dryness lingers in his throat, causing his voice to come out hoarse.
Yunho's look of confusion shifts to concern but Hongjoong's mind drifts elsewhere.
He absentmindedly slides his hand over the smooth wood surface of the bar. It feels cool on his fingers - a comfortable contrast to the otherwise steamy room.
“Are you sure? Do you need to go outside and get some air?”
Hongjoong shakes his head. “No, I think I just need a drink.”
He ignores his friend's skepticism. Chasing the fire lingering in his mind, he orders whiskey, ready to fall into a smoky embrace.
.
When the buzzing returns Hongjoong doesn't fight the pull anymore. He makes his way into the cloud of people. It's hot at the bar, but it's absolutely sweltering in the main area of the club.
Swimming in the sound and movement that surrounds him, he inhales more embers that drown out everything around him. Now Hongjoong knows he isn't imagining it. He can't be.
He moves to find the source as it grows ever stronger around him. He's dazed in his path, not even wondering about the pull, just determined to find it. He is stopped by strong hands on his waist.
Immediately, he is engulfed in flames. He shivers despite the warmth.
A ghost of a breath finds his neck. Everything is vibrating. He can no longer tell if he’s frozen in place or moving with the push and pull of the music.
All he can feel is the hum as it encompasses him and the hands pulling him closer to the body behind him.
His eyes flutter and he gasps when fingers trail over his hips and across his stomach.
The touch, the scent, the warmth. It's pure intoxication. Regardless of the general lack of alcohol in his body.
Dizzy. Warm. Head buzzing and body humming.
Consumed by fire.
Held down by something incorporeal.
He finally turns to face the stranger and is greeted by a smug grin. Dark eyes survey Hongjoong while the grip holding his waist tightens.
“Hi, pretty, what's your name”
“H-hongjoong.”
“Cute, I'm Wooyoung.”
With a quiver of dizziness, Hongjoong feels like he's falling. He tries to take a deep breath but smoke swirls in his head and he only plummets further.
.
Hongjoong is back at the bar, leaning heavily on a stool. He doesn’t remember getting here, but figures he was towed over by the invisible cord that has been fastened around him to connect him to Wooyoung.
He’s in a daze and faintly hears Wooyoung next to him saying something to the bartender and then Yunho appears with a glass of water.
Wooyoung takes the glass and places it carefully in Hongjoong’s hands. He gently says “Here, drink this,” before turning to Yunho and asking, “do you mind staying with him for a moment? I just want to talk to Mingi.” And then Wooyoung is gone -off somewhere with the bartender.
The pout starting to form on Hongjoong’s face at Wooyoung's absence quickly fades when he sees his friend.
“Yunho, I found the fire,” he states, proud of himself. A grin spreads across Yunho’s face and he raises his eyebrows.
“I see that.”
Hongjoong’s head throbs. His eyelids are so heavy.
“I feel like someone drugged me,” Hongjoong says, too seriously.
Unbelievably, Yunho laughs at him.
His pout returns.
“Come on, let's go outside. You need fresh air.”
Yunho pulls him to the door and he can't help but glance in the direction Wooyoung went. The cord pulls at him. His body begs to move in that direction instead. One tug on his arm and he is out the door.
When Hongjoong walks into the cool spring night, all of the air gets sucked out of his lungs. He coughs and lets himself slump against the brick wall.
Yunho hands him his forgotten water and teases, “all right, drink up, you scent slut.”
Hongjoong can only bring himself to glare as he sips the cool water. When the glass empties, his head finally begins to clear.
He takes a deep breath and sighs, “what the fuck was that?”
Yunho chuckling, responds, “you're an idiot.” He pauses. “Hey, before he comes back and you lose your head again- do you want to leave with him?”
Hongjoong feels the heat on his face. “W-what?”
Yunho sighs. “Come on, Hongjoong, Seonghwa will kill me if I let you leave all high like that without a sober confirmation that it's what you want.”
Without second guessing, Hongjoong thinks back to Wooyoung. His hands, his touch, the embers.
“Y-yea. I think I do.”
“Alright, I’m going to go find him and Mingi. Hang tight for a second.”
Hongjoong hums in response and tips his head back to lean it against the wall. The rough stone is grounding. He thinks of his night up until now. How is it possible to be so affected by someone?
While he waits, he checks his phone and he has to push away the guilt he feels for waiting so long to look. Thankfully, he doesn't have any notifications from his parents. (He would probably just leave if he did- no matter the context- as some kind of act of penance for being selfish and irresponsible.)
The temptation still hits him. He can just text Yunho and well Wooyoung… would get over it. His heart pangs in protest at the thought.
A gruff voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey baby, I saw you dancing earlier. You ditch that tiny alpha? You ready for a real alpha to take care of you?”
His skin crawls and when the man reaches toward him, his stomach twists in revulsion. He can’t tell what this guy smells like under scent blockers, but it’s foul, whatever it is.
He moves to shift away -to spit some venom at this guy- but before he can, everything ignites. Wooyoung is next to him, steadying Hongjoong’s shaky arm.
“Ready to go, sweetheart?”
One hand still holds Hongjoong's arm and the other settles possessively on his lower back. Goosebumps prickle across Hongjoong’s skin. As wildfire settles over him once again, he finally makes the connection in what Yunho said.
Scentslut.
All high like that.
Later, when the shame hits him, he'll cringe at the memory.
But for now Wooyoung’s scent descends around him. It drowns out any negative feelings. He won’t be bothered by the fact that he's scent drunk- from a stranger - in public - like a newly presented omega in heat.
He'll face the humiliation later. For now, he lets Wooyoung lead him into the night.
.
Lost in the rush, Hongjoong can't remember how or when they got to Wooyoung’s apartment.
Wooyoung's home is dominated by soft darkness. Thick black curtains drape over the windows. A few bookshelves stand tall, lined with volumes. Moody photographs hang on the walls. Somewhere a hearth must burn, bathing the room with the smell of wood and embers
Except, no, there is no fireplace, the only thing burning brightly is Wooyoung. And Hongjoong is caught in the flames. A moth that has already burnt its wings.
They haven't made it past the entryway.
Stumbling out of his shoes, Hongjoong kisses Wooyoung’s neck and can’t stop, the taste too addictive. He nips and licks without thinking until he reaches the crook of Wooyoung’s neck and frowns. He can feel a smooth patch - no, multiple patches.
“Why are you wearing so many scentblockers?”
He doesn’t like it. He wants more of the fire. Without thinking, he starts to peel one off, but Wooyoung shoos his hand away.
“Hongjoong, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Now that Hongjoong is aware of them, the medicinal smell of the blockers cuts through everything else. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach and all he wants to do is to rip those patches off.
It’s all he can think about.
“Please, Wooyoung. I don’t like it.”
Hongjoong looks at him with big eyes and when Wooyoung doesn’t immediately give in he goes back to kissing his neck and drags his teeth lightly across the skin. He can feel the goosebumps spread and a new spark of fire ignites in the air. Wooyoung shivers.
“I’m t-trying to be a gentleman-” He tries to speak, but Hongjoong starts sucking bruises onto his neck and he loses focus. Hongjoong has yet to touch the patches but fire still floods the room.
Rich crackling wood. Dark liquor.
It hits Hongjoong and clings to every inch of his body- goes straight to his head. He could fall to his knees right then and there.
He doesn’t even notice that he’s engulfing the room in warm brown sugar and molasses. A heated, sticky sweetness that clings to Wooyoung and makes his head spin.
This time when Hongjoong reaches for the patches, Wooyoung doesn’t stop him and Hongjoong isn’t satisfied until all five are on the floor and he is faced with Wooyoung’s bare neck.
Deciding that he may as well dive all the way in, he removes his own as well.
Wooyoung looks back at him, heavy lidded and breathing deeply. Danger glints in his eyes and Hongjoong hesitates for a moment. Wooyoung smirks and strikes before Hongjoong can move.
He pulls Hongjoong closer.
“Fucking hell, Hongjoong. You’ve been driving me crazy all night. You smell so fucking sweet- did you know that? It's killing me. I can't take it anymore.”
Wooyoung slides his hands into Hongjoong’s shirt to slip it off. Hongjoong squirms beneath him as Wooyoung’s fingers trail across his stomach and chest.
Hongjoong's heartbeat thrums through his body. His breathing becomes more labored. Drowning in a sea of embers and smoke. He lets go.
Dizziness gives way to desperation.
He needs more.
Wooyoung’s hands are everywhere and Hongjoong’s skin lights up as if he was truly caught in flames.
More.
His back arches. His skin crawls. He writhes, gasping for air.
Wooyoung carries him into a bedroom and Hongjoong falls into the softness of the bed.
The dark blanket is plush and feels like heaven on his bare skin.
Wooyoung peels off the rest of Hongjoong's clothes.
Then his mouth is everywhere.
His neck, his mouth, his chest, his fingers, his stomach, his thighs.
Hongjoong can’t move, can’t think.
He can smell his own sickly-sweet scent mingle with the fire.
Melting. Caramelizing.
Wooyoung's hands move to Hongjoong’s waist to hold him.
He's trapped in place as Wooyoung’s tongue explores.
Hongjoong becomes hyper-aware of the wetness on his thighs - of the sweet, heady scent mingling in smoke.
Simmering brown sugar. The warmth of cinnamon and clove.
Wooyoung smirks and bites a sensitive spot inside Hongjoong’s thigh, prompting a high pitched moan. Slick trickles down his leg and his cheeks heat in embarrassment.
Does he look as desperate as he feels?
Wooyoung takes a finger and swipes it through the wetness. His finger instinctively goes to his mouth. Hongjoong watches with wide eyes as pure sugar envelops Wooyoung’s senses and he groans.
Wooyoung’s starved eyes meet his. Hongjoong sees the same dangerous glint from before.
And then his legs are over Wooyoung shoulders as he is overcome with white-hot pleasure.
Wooyoung’s tongue laps against his hole. Everything is white.
He thinks he hears himself saying something but he can’t make any sense of it.
The heat that pools in him is overwhelming. He’s already so close.
His body twitches and trembles as Wooyoung’s tongue dips inside him. Held firmly in place, he can’t pull away, but his body jolts and tries when Wooyoung slips a finger in next to his tongue.
Hongjoong’s thoughts are a litany of swears, only made worse when Wooyoung sits back to focus on pressing his long finger deeper inside him.
“More…. Please,” Hongjoong finds his words.
“You're cute, I've never seen someone honest-to-god scent-high before.”
Hongjoong frowns. This is cruel and it's mean and it's not enough.
Wooyoung presses in another finger but slowly, torturously. Like the more Hongjoong begs, the more he's going to draw it out.
So Hongjoong tries not to beg and hopes for mercy. But when Wooyoung thrusts deeper and Hongjoong glimpses bliss, he can't stop himself.
"Wooyoung- Wooyoungie- please- please, Wooyoungie."
Wooyoung again slows to a drag and Hongjoong unfolds.
It feels so good.
It's not enough.
It hurts.
He needs more.
Just a little more.
"A-alpha! Please."
Hongjoong isn't prepared for what unlocks inside Wooyoung. Their eyes meet — Wooyoung's pupils are blown and something untamed lives behind them.
Hongjoong blinks once and suddenly, Wooyoung adds another finger and abruptly fucks into Hongjoong.
It's so much, all at once. Harder, deeper, faster.
Hongjoong can only make out some of the filth leaving Wooyoung's mouth.
"Oh poor omega… -…probably still not enough…-…need to sit on a fat knot…-…or can you be good and…"
Hongjoong can be good. He can be very good.
Or so he tells himself.
Reduced to a puddle of slick, the onslaught of Wooyoung’s fingers sends him to the grave and back.
Wooyoung's fingers are incredible. Almost too good. The feeling is all over his skin- inside of him - in his stomach - in his mouth - in his chest - in his head.
Thankfully he isn't cognizant enough to notice his breathy, whiny moans as they heighten to a devastatingly embarrassing pitch.
Hongjoong succumbs to the pleasure.
Still tangled in ecstasy, it is the sensation of wetness on his stomach that makes him realize that he's come. Wooyoung doesn't immediately stop, but instead pushes him to overstimulation before removing his fingers.
“I hope you don’t think I’m done with you.”
Hongjoong shakes his head. There's heat inside of him. His body is begging for more.
As Wooyoung finishes undressing himself, he releases more of his scent, which sends Hongjoong into a cloud of smoke. The haze settles into his thoughts as he finally sees all of Wooyoung. Drool pools in his mouth.
Fuck.
Wooyoung is big.
Hongjoong watches in anticipation as Wooyoung rolls a condom down his length and moves forward.
Slower this time, his hands still feel like they're all over Hongjoong. They squeeze and savor his soft skin before one settles on his hip and the other between his thighs.
Wooyoung's fingers drag through the slick, gathering it to slather it on himself.
He lines up and presses inside, filling Hongjoong and pushing out any coherent thoughts that were left.
There's no room for them anymore.
Hongjoong is so full.
The room is smothered in molten brown sugar.
Thick, gooey molasses.
Every thrust of Wooyoung's hips has Hongjoong seeing stars and releasing more of the rich, saccharine scent.
It floods their senses.
Hongjoong is babbling and can't hear - can't focus on whatever Wooyoung is saying.
He yelps when he is flipped to his stomach.
The new angle pushes him higher.
Every touch lingers heavy in his head.
Every movement pulls out an unholy moan.
He feels his pleasure rise.
Deeper.
Fuller.
Higher.
Everything goes black as his orgasm overtakes him.
Minutes must pass before he's himself again.
“Fuck. I haven't come that hard in a long time.”
Wooyoung grins at Hongjoong in response. He looks proud of himself.
He’s cute.
Now that Hongjoong’s brain isn’t going haywire, he can appreciate his face - his eyes, nose, lips, the little freckle on his cheek, the other freckle on his lip. It's pretty.
He is going to have to say goodbye to that face.
“So when can I see you again?” Wooyoung looks at him earnestly. Hongjoong wraps his arms around himself to stop himself from recoiling
He averts his eyes. “I'm-,” he stops himself and takes a breath before continuing. “I can't date you, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung studies him. Hongjoong can't imagine what he sees- the trepidation or maybe the longing- but Wooyoung smirks. “And why not? You would like to see me again.”
He is not making this easy.
“I-I don't have time to date, Wooyoung. I'm busy, I have responsibilities.” Hongjoong still hasn't made eye contact, but he can see Wooyoung is walking across the room, closer to him.
“Okay… When's your next responsibility?”
Hongjoong finally looks up and sees Wooyoung's piercing eyes fixed on him. His mind goes blank.
“Huh?”
Wooyoung leans over him. His breath so close to Hongjoong's neck.
“Well clearly you aren't busy at the moment. When does that end? When is your next obligation?”
Hongjoong should just lie and say he has to leave. He should shut this down quickly. But he doesn't.
Maybe it's Wooyoung's exhale on Hongjoong's still sensitive skin — or maybe it's the impulse he's been feeling tug in his chest all night, but he answers honestly .
“O-oh.. um. The morning- I guess? I told my parents I'd meet them at 10 tomorrow.”
Wooyoung’s eyes light up and he smiles. He looks victorious.
“Perfect, stay the night with me.”
It's not really an invitation, but more of a command and a very tempting one, but Hongjoong can’t.
It’s too much.
“Woo-”
“I'll make it worth your while.” Wooyoung climbs on the bed and slips behind Hongjoong to sit behind him. He leans in to kiss Hongjoong’s neck. The offer is even more tempting with Wooyoung's body against his. With a smolder of fire wrapping around him.
Wooyoung leans in closer to whisper in Hongjoong’s ear.
“I mean, obviously you should go if that's what you want. You know. If you're done- if you’ve had your fill.” Hongjoong melts into Wooyoung's touch. He can't help it.
He also can’t help but gasp at the squeeze of his thigh.
Wooyoung's hands on bare skin are very persuasive.
Still against Hongjoong's ear, he breathes, “If you want, I'll fuck you over and over til you cry.”
Hongjoong whimpers and immediately turns red, embarrassment pooling in his chest. He can feel Wooyoung’s smirk in the soft kisses that ghost against his skin.
Well fuck it.
All he has to do is nod and Wooyoung connects lips to skin. His hand creeps between Hongjoong’s thighs.
.
Morning light streams through the windows and decorates the dark bedspread with delicate patterns.
It's pretty, but Hongjoong has no idea where he is.
But it comes back to him breath by breath.
He cringes at the memory. At the impending awkwardness of saying goodbye to Wooyoung. He wishes he could just slip out, which is probably what he should have done at 2 am -instead of crying with his face shoved in the pillows while Wooyoung pounded into him. Fuck.
He closes his eyes again, fantasizing about falling asleep and magically waking up in his own bed.
The smell of food distracts this thought.
When he opens his eyes again, Wooyoung is staring down at him.
“So, how does it feel?,” Wooyoung asks.
Hongjoong blinks up at him.
“What? Being obliterated?”
“No, knowing you found your fated mate.”
Hongjoong jumps to sit up.
“What?,” he repeats.
“I can explain it in more detail, but it makes a lot of sense when you think about it."
Hongjoong rubs his head, feeling the oncoming headache.
“Oh my god, shut up, we are not fated mates.”
"And how do you know we aren’t?”
His head throbs.
“I… Shit, it's too early for this.”
Hongjoong gets up and starts looking to collect his clothes. He couldn’t think of a better time to leave. He is surprised to see that Wooyoung has gathered them and folded them into a pile for him. Hongjoong mutters to himself about how unnecessary that is as he starts to pull his clothes on. He freezes when he realizes his phone isn’t with the pile and starts to panic.
Fuck. He can’t remember the last time he looked at it. Could it be at the bar?
He crouches down to look under the bed. Nothing. He starts tearing at the blankets on the bed. It’s not there.
He’s starting to freak out. What if something happened and he doesn’t have his phone?
Wooyoung must have realized what was going on. “Oh I plugged your phone in so it wouldn’t die. Here, it’s over here.”
Hongjoong is annoyed at how considerate that was.
He unlocks it to a stream of notifications. Nothing from his parents, but he sees message after message from Yunho and Seonghwa. They range from lewd and suggestive to outright mocking him.
Oh he is so fucked.
Fully dressed, he leaves the bedroom ready to promptly find the exit. He steps out into the main living space and finds a spread of food laid on the table.
Aieesh.
His brain is telling him to get out while his stomach begs for the breakfast. Tempted to sit down, he tells himself that if he stays, he’s going to have to listen to Wooyoung explain why they are soulmates.
He looks to Wooyoung who is in the kitchen, facing away. He seems focused on something.
So, Hongjoong bolts for the door and escapes without even saying goodbye.
Bonus: Wooyoung’s POV
Sweat drips down Wooyoung’s neck. He’s having fun at the club for the first time in a while. The air feels different. Maybe he’s just in a good mood, but everything feels light.
He’s lost Yeosangie in the crowd somewhere but can’t be bothered to care.
The smell of something sweet in the air distracts him. It’s something warm. Like fresh-baked molasses cookies.
Someone must not be wearing blockers.
That’s fine - maybe inconsiderate of others, but fine. Wooyoung can’t bring himself to complain when it smells so good.
Curious, he pushes through the mass of people to try to find the source.
Wooyoung can tell the moment he sees him.
Poor guy looks drunk and Wooyoung feels a little bad. The brown sugar smell is smothering, but when he looks around - no one else seems to notice. It’s strange. Especially since Wooyoung can see a blocker.
If this guy was in heat, everyone around would be aware. But no one reacts.
He can’t stop himself from moving forward though.
Wooyoung’s hands find the stranger’s waist as if pulled in by magnets.
He swears to himself when they’re face to face. His fingers move on their own accord, skimming under clothes just slightly and trailing back and forth over the soft skin.
He gets a name out of the small figure - Hongjoong - and knows he needs to brainstorm.
1. Hongjoong is drunk.
2. He keeps muttering about Wooyoung’s scent so Wooyoung needs to figure out what’s going on with his own blockers.
3. No one else seems to care about the fucking confectionary Hongjoong is releasing into the air (What the fuck is up with that?)
Hongjoong is so pliable that Wooyoung can easily move him to the bar.
Poor thing trails after him like a baby duck.
At the bar, he scoffs at his luck, Mingi is flirting with someone which means he’s not going to give a shit about anyone else- or maybe not?
Surprisingly, the person with Mingi looks really concerned when he sees Hongjoong and walks over to them.
Wooyoung addresses him, “Is this your friend? I think he’s trashed.”
They get Hongjoong some water and then Wooyoung excuses himself and Mingi to voice his concerns.
In the storage room behind the bar Wooyoung forces Mingi to give him more scent blockers. He sticks two on his neck - just to be safe.
“Are you sure you can’t smell me?” Wooyoung asks. Mingi rolls his eyes.
“Yes! I couldn’t smell you before and now I definitely can’t smell you.” Wooyoung huffs.
After ten minutes or so, Hongjoong’s friend, Yunho, finds them and states, “Yea so Hongjoong’s scent-drunk.”
Wooyoung jumps up. “I knew it! I think we’re hypersensitive to each other’s scents.” He looks at Mingi and asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Mingi looks exasperated and sighs.
Yunho asks, “What am I missing here?”
Mingi answers before Wooyoung can. “My friends are obsessed with the concept of fated mates - soulmates - whatever you want to call it.”
Yunho’s face twists up as if he’s in pain and then erupts into laughter.
“Yea, don’t say that to Hongjoong. Not unless you want him to ditch you before you can even finish the sentence. Which would probably be a shame since he just soberly told me he wants to go home with you.”
Yunho smiles at him smugly, but Wooyoung doesn't even try to hide his delight.
He makes his way outside, but first puts on two more scent blockers - just in case. He doesn’t want Hongjoong to be too affected.