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The air in the town square was thick and foggy.
All at once, the murmuring crowd surged forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the last heir from the fallen House of Zhang—a boy who had once lived behind high silk walls, now stripped of his glory and paraded like a common criminal.
Zhang Jiahao, the town’s prettiest omega and crown jewel, was being dragged down from his manor. He looked like a delicate orchid snapped by a mountain storm; his fine white silks now torn and stained with the mud, clinging to his trembling frame as two burly Alphas— underlings of the Lee family—gripped his upper arms. Their fingers digged brutally into his delicate skin, forcing him toward a waiting carriage that signaled his end as a free man.
The rain started falling, hitting his face down hard. Jiahao’s eyes continued wandering everywhere trying to find a familiar face; his last remaining comfort.
Junseo.
Junseo didn't look like the fifteen-year-old boy who used to sneak Jiahao wildflower honey in the back gardens of the manor anymore. This Junseo was a man built from years of exhausting labor and quiet scars. His shoulders were broad enough to carry the weight of the world, and currently, they were carrying Jiahao’s entire future.
He wore a tunic of rough, undyed wool, his knuckles bruised from a morning’s work he hadn't even been paid for yet.
Junseo had appeared, his chest heaving, his body slick with sweat and rain. He had clearly run for miles to get here.
Seeing the men hauling Jiahao, the Alpha threw himself forward, but before he could reach the carriage, the weight of a dozen guards forced him down.
His face hit the hard concrete with a hard thud.
Junseo immediately tried to get up and was on his knees. Water cascaded off his jaw and mixed with the blood from a fresh cut on his forehead. A bit far from him, Jiahao let out a broken cry, his hand stretching toward him just as the guards seized him and dragged him back.
"Let him go!" Junseo had shouted; slamming his fists into the flooded concrete, desperate.
"Take me instead!" He continued, his voice cracking against the wind. He crawled a jagged step on his knees, his eyes burning with a terrifying, desperate light. "You want your debt repaid? You want strength? Take me! I am strong, and I will give you every drop of my blood until the day I die. I offer free labor for the Lee family. Just let him go free!"
"Junseo, no... you can't... Please, don't do this for me..." Jiahao’s voice was a shattered sob, barely audible over the drumming rain
"Please, don't throw your life away for me...Please. You'll die in those mines." He had pleaded but his sound was lost to the rain. Tears continued to spill over, silent and endless. He looked utterly broken; his eyes fixed on Junseo, an man whose heart was far too kind for a ruin like him.
"Twenty years," a voice intoned. It was the head of the debt collector, the Alpha who had watched everything with cold, calculating eyes from beneath a black umbrella.
“Twenty years of physical labor, and with the lowest compensation to repay the debt of the Zhang’s family. And in exchange…” The collector’s eyes turned predatory. Junseo’s stance shifted, his gaze darkening as he watched the man’s fingers deliberately grazing over Jiahao’s soft skin before turning to look at him.
“You start tomorrow, boy.”
The words fell cold and final.
The debt collector’s grip loosened, his hand slipping away from Jiahao. The other men— his underlings— followed through. They had released both of them, stepping back like the deal had already been sealed.
"Young Master! Are you okay?" Junseo said, his voice deep and raspy, grounding Jiahao’s thin and fragile frame. He stepped forward, his massive strength catching Jiahao just as the omega’s knees began to fail him on the high stone platform.
Junseo’s hand was twice the size of Jiahao’s, his palms full of scars and hardened callouses from a decade of hard labor. Yet, as their skin touched, the sharp floral notes of the lavender nestled into the Alpha’s heavy forest scent, blooming like wild flowers at the roots of an ancient, unyielding tree.
"You're free, Young Master," Junseo murmured, his grip firm yet impossibly gentle.
Jiahao’s knees gave out anyway, fingers clutching weakly at Junseo’s clothes as tears spilled over his face. “I have nothing left…” he choked, shaking his head. “Nothing—and now you—Junseo, you’re going to lose your life because of me.”
Junseo tightened his hold, one hand cradling the back of Jiahao's head, pressing the omega’s face into his shoulder as if to shield him from the lingering stares of the crowd. “Do not say that,” he said quietly, “You’re not something to trade. Not to me.”
“I have a small cottage by the river,” Junseo continued, his heavy pace steady as he began to walk. He slanted his broad shoulders, using his own body as a wall to keep the biting rain off Jiahao’s shivering frame. “It is small, but it is safe. You may stay with me... if you don't find it beneath you, Young Master."
· • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀🪻❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ •·
In the golden days of the Zhang lineage, Junseo’s father had served as the estate’s master stonemason. While other laborers slept in the crowded quarters, the Zhangs granted his family a rare mercy. Instead of the cramped, communal servants' quarters, they were permitted to live in the Stone-Cutter’s Outpost —the very same small building tucked away in the back of the property. Since the young Junseo’s labor was as useful as his father’s, he was granted the unspoken freedom to roam near the main house.
That was how a thirteen-year-old Junseo first caught glimpses of a young Jiahao through the library windows from the plum blossom gardens— a young master who seemed to belong to a world of light that Junseo could only watch from the dark.
He remembered his father’s voice, a rough whisper from the shadows. Stand back, Junseo. The Little Master is coming through. Do not let your dust touch his silk.
─ ·✶· ─ ·
At fifteen, Junseo was already a creature of earth and labor, His hands were always stained grey from the limestone walls his father was hired to repair. He was useful, strong, and largely invisible.
Until Jiahao decided to see him.
Junseo would be completely exhausted, resting in the shade of a willow tree for a quick ten-minute break from hauling heavy loads, when a pair of silk slippers would appear in the grass. Jiahao would crouch down, not caring that the dirt was ruining his beautiful clothes, and push a bowl of ice-cold water into Junseo’s rough, hardworking hand.
"Eat this quickly," Jiahao would whisper, eyes dancing with a mix of mischief and kindness. He’d pull a linen napkin from his sleeve, revealing honey-coated rice cakes stolen directly from the kitchen’s wooden trays.
Junseo would stare at the sweets— food meant for nobility— and then at the boy who looked as pale and rare as a winter plum blossom. "I shouldn't, Young Master. Your father..."
"My father is busy with his ledgers," Jiahao would say, sitting beside him on the grass, bridging the gap between a mason’s son and a nobleman. "And you’re doing the work of three men. Eat."
In those moments, the sugar on Junseo’s tongue was less sweet than the fact that Jiahao chose to spend his freedom in the dirt with a boy who had nothing to offer him but a tired smile.
─ ·✶· ─ ·
One long autumn, Junseo found a fallen branch of mountain cherry wood. Each night, he sat by a small fire and worked it with a rusted knife, carving through the hours. It took a full month to shape the wood into a small trinket. It wasn’t perfect. Some parts were rough. But he kept smoothing it with his thumb until the wood felt warm and worn.
He gave it to Jiahao on the night of a thin, silver moon.
“To remember the garden,” Junseo had muttered, his heart hammering. “Even when the work is done and the walls are finished.”
That same night, Jiahao sewed a small silk pouch to protect it, tucking the gift close to his side.
Even as they grew older and their secondary genders were presented—as Jiahao blossomed into the province’s most coveted Omega, a prize of moonlight and silk, and Junseo hardened into the strongest Alpha in the valley—the small wooden bird never left Jiahao’s side.
· • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀🪻❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ •·
For three generations, the Zhang family had controlled the region's silk and spice trade, their manor perched atop the hill like a crown of jade and tile.
Jiahao's father, the Elder Zhang, was a man of high taste but of crumbling health. He lived under the illusions that the family’s fortune was as permanent as the mountains. However, he trusted too easily in a dishonest world—and by the time he realized he had been deceived, the damage was already done.
When a violent typhoon claimed the Zhang merchant ships, the family’s wealth was swallowed by the sea in a single night. Desperate to salvage their status, Jiahao's father gambled on a high-risk investment in the northern mines. He partnered with the House of Lee—a rising clan of Alphas who dealt in iron and blood rather than silk— wholly unaware that they had already sabotaged the claim.
The bankruptcy was swift and merciless.
Jiahao’s father, unable to endure the shame and the sudden seizure of his ancestral lands, succumbed to a final, broken-hearted stroke before the guards could even bind his hands.
Within a year, the jade ornaments were seized, the silk tapestries sold to common traders, and the "Prettiest Omega" became the only asset left in a house of hollow echoes.
Jiahao’s elder brother, the family's Alpha heir, was bound in iron chains and dragged away to the northern border. His mother, stripped of her silk robes, was hauled away to serve as a laborer in a distant province. And Jiahao was a prize too valuable to waste on hard labor. He became a prisoner in a tomb of silk, left alone to wait for the creditors to decide which Alpha was rich enough to buy his life.
When the Zhang manor finally went dark, Junseo’s father was dismissed. They moved to a shack by the river, and Junseo took up the heaviest, any jobs in the village just to keep them fed.
However, Junseo’s father’s lungs had already been weakened by decades of inhaling stone dust; he soon succumbed to a fever that the damp shack only served to worsen.
· • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀🪻❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ •·
The cottage sat at the very edge of the village. It was a small, humble place with a roof of dried straw and walls of mud. The ground was uneven, and when the night grew cold, the wind hissed through the cracks in the old timber like a ghost.
For Jiahao, who had spent twenty-three years walking on jade and sleeping on silk, the change was a physical blow. Here, the floor was nothing but packed, cold earth. His bed was a simple wooden frame topped with a thin mattress of straw, and the hearth was the only source of light once the sun dipped below the horizon.
There were no servants to bring tea, and no silk screens to hide behind. Everything was raw and quiet.
But for both of them, life had become a cycle of endurance, measured not in the gold coins of Jiahao’s past, but in the small victories of a shared survival.
Every morning, Junseo would leave before the first light, his body already aching from the day before, to begin his twelve-hour shift of manual labor. And every morning, Jiahao would wake up with a singular, desperate goal which was to to be helpful to Junseo.
─ ·✶· ─ ·
Jiahao had never held a broom, let alone a hatchet or a heavy iron pot. On the third day, he tried to chop it for the fire. The heavy axe slipped in his soft, unpracticed hands, the rough wood grain tearing deep into his palms. He cried out, the sharp sting of the blisters making his eyes water, but he didn't stop. He wiped the blood on his tattered silk robes—now gray with ash— and kept going until he had enough wood to boil water.
By the time the sun began to set, Jiahao’s porcelain hands were mapped with small cuts and burns from the hearth. His back throbbed from hauling water from the river, and his lungs felt heavy from the smoke of a fire he struggled to keep lit.
When the door finally creaked open, Junseo would stumble in, exhaustion on his face but still smiled at the omega. Because despite the aching pain in Junseo’s body, Jiahao would be there to make it better. He had learned how to make a thin but warm vegetable broth, and he had kept a bucket of water warmed by the fire for Junseo’s bath.
"Don't move," Jiahao would whisper. He would guide Junseo to the lone wooden chair and kneel at his feet.
Junseo’s heart would break every time he saw Jiahao’s hands. He would reach out, his own massive, scarred hand trembling as he touched a bandage Jiahao had tied around his finger. "Jiahao... look at what you've done to yourself. You weren't meant for this. You should be resting."
"I am resting," Jiahao would reply, looking up with a tired but radiant smile that outshone any lantern in the manor. He would take a rag and begin to gently wash the grime from Junseo’s face, his touch a healing balm. "I am resting in the home you bought for me with your life. Let me take care of you, Junseo."
In that tiny, drafty cottage, Jiahao’s scent was soft in a way— like a field of violet blossoms just after rain. There was a gentle sweetness to it, not sugary, but clean and airy, layered with the quiet comfort of lavender and the faintest hint of powder. It suited him completely—calm, delicate, and soothing in a way that made people lower their voices without realizing it. When he smiled, his gland seemed to warm, releasing something even softer—like blooming flowers at dusk, tender and fleeting.
Junseo’s scent was different— grounded, steady, and warm. It carried the depth of worn wood and sunlit earth, like calloused hands and long days under an open sky. There was a faint trace of smoke, not harsh, but comforting, like a fire kept alive through the night. Beneath it all was something undeniably solid, it wrapped around Jiahao’s softer fragrance without overwhelming it, the way a quiet promise settles in the chest.
In that tiny, drafty cottage, they shared a calming scent of an Alpha who gave his strength to buy freedom, and an Omega who gave his heart to make that freedom worth having.
· • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀🪻❀ ⦁ • · · • ⦁ ❀ ⦁ •·
The rain had stopped, the humidity from the monsoon lingered, and temperatures soared, making August one of the hottest and muggiest months.
Jiahao had settled into his little life with Junseo. He also had gotten himself a job at the marketplace.
He stood behind a polished oak counter, dipping a quill into a fresh well of ink. Across from him sat Mistress Hana, an elderly Beta woman with silver hair tucked into a practical bun and eyes that held the sharp clarity of someone who had seen empires rise and fall without losing her sense of humor.
She was the town’s most respected apothecary. She was a person who lived by logic and results. To her, it didn't matter that Jiahao was once a high-born Noble or that he was a Coveted Omega.
Jiahao's soft and pale hands that were once meant only for holding silk fans were now stained with green leaves and dark ink. He spent his hours carefully weighing out dried bark and flower petals on a small brass scale. He learned to identify a hundred different roots by scent alone, his fingers becoming nimble as he tied small paper medicine packets with hemp string.
Every week, Mistress Hana would hand him a small, heavy pouch of brass coins. It was enough to buy a sturdy sack of barley, some salted fish, and perhaps a bundle of charcoal to keep the river dampness out of the cottage.
"The inventory for the valerian root is short by two ounces, Jiahao," Mistress Hana said, not looking up from her own ledger. "Did the merchant from the East Gate try to swindle us again, or did my old eyes miss a jar?"
"Neither, Mistress. I moved the surplus to the darker shelf in the back. The sun was hitting the glass, and I remembered from your notes that light spoils the potency."
Hana looked up, her spectacles sliding to the tip of her nose. She studied the young man—the ink smudge on his thumb, the way he moved with a quiet, newfound competence.
"Intelligence is a far more useful trait than beauty, though you seem cursed with both," she said, though her tone was warm. She reached over and patted the back of his hand—the skin was healing now, the blisters from his early attempts at housework fading into soft, silver scars. "Go on, then. Pack up. It’s nearly sunset, and that Alpha of yours will be pacing the floor if you’re late."
She reached under the counter and handed him a small, waxed paper bundle. "Take that honey rice cakes from this as well. My nephew didn't visit today, and they will only go stale. Your Alpha needs the sugar if he is to keep breaking stones for the Lees."
Jiahao bowed his head low, his heart swelling. "Thank you, Mistress. Truly."
─ ·✶· ─ ·
The walk home couldn’t have come faster. Jiahao held the bundle close to his chest, his mind humming with the day's successes. When he pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cottage, the scent of woodsmoke greeted him, followed immediately by the heat of the hearth.
Junseo was already there. He had already washed, the dirts scrubbed from his skin, and he had even drawn fresh water and set out a clean cloth for Jiahao.
He looked up as the door clicked shut, his eyes instantly softening at the sight of Jiahao.
"You're back," He took Jiahao’s hand. His thumb tracing the ink on Jiahao’s knuckles softly; the sight made Jiahao’s heart ache. "How was your day at the shop? Did the work treat you well?"
Jiahao came forward, leaning his forehead against the Alpha’s sturdy chest. He could feel the radiating warmth of Junseo’s skin through the thin tunic.
"It was quiet," He murmured, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of Junseo’s burning mugwort. "Mistress Hana taught me how to grind the pearl-powder. She said I have a steady hand. It was a good day, Junseo. A very good day."
Junseo let out a long sigh of relief, his large hand resting gently on the back of Jiahao's head. "Rest now. I'm making us tonight's dinner."
─ ·✶· ─ ·
The cottage and the apothecary were Jiahao's only sanctuaries. Anywhere else—the narrow paths, the crowded market, the riverbank—was a gauntlet.
It happened on a Tuesday afternoon that looked like an evening— when a heavy mist clung to the damp earth of the village tracks. Jiahao was carrying a basket of dried herbs to a client’s home. As he passed the gap between the grain merchant and the blacksmith, a shadow stepped out, blocking his path.
Despite his rougher clothes and the ink stains that marked him as a worker, Jiahao could not hide what he was. Being called the "Town’s Prettiest Omega" had never been a blessing; it was a target painted on his back. To the local Alphas, his fall from grace didn't make him their equal. It made him a prize they could finally touch.
"Well, look at what the mud dragged in," a voice rasped.
It was Master Cho, a local Alpha who had once bowed so low to Jiahao’s father that his forehead nearly touched the dirt. Now, he looked at Jiahao like a piece of meat left out to spoil.
Jiahao kept his head down, his heart beating like a trapped bird. He tightened his grip on the basket until the wicker bit into his palms. "Please let me pass, Master Cho. I am on an errand for Mistress Hana."
A heavy hand shot out, gripping Jiahao’s shoulder with enough force to bruise. The Alpha’s scent—sour, aggressive, and thick with a forced dominance—swirled around him like smoke.
"The apothecary? From a manor to a shop-boy," Cho sneered. He leaned in until his breath was hot against Jiahao's ear, dragging a dirty, rough finger down the line of Jiahao’s jaw. "You were always too high and mighty for us common folk. Now that you’re living in a shack with a stone-cutter’s brat, I imagine you’ve learned a little humility. Or maybe you just need a real Alpha to remind you of your worth."
Jiahao flinched, but he didn't shrink away. He thought of the quiet nights by the hearth, of the man who broke his body every day just to keep him fed. They had lived together for months, yet they had never shared a mark. There had been no heat, no claiming— only the steady sound of breathing in the dark. Though in his heart, the choice had long been made.
"Junseo is my Alpha," Jiahao said, his voice trembling but clear. "Let me go."
The mention of Junseo only made the Alpha’s grip tighten. "Junseo is a slave in the mines. He isn't here, is he? You haven't even been claimed, little bird. I can smell the lack of a mark on you from here. It’s a waste, letting you rot in that river cottage with a man who doesn't even know how to take what is his."
The Alpha’s hand moved lower, toward the sensitive skin of Jiahao’s throat where his scent gland pulsed with terror. Jiahao felt the familiar, crushing weight of his own beauty—a curse that had followed him from the silk sheets of his youth to the dirt of the streets. It didn't matter that he could read, that he could heal, or that he worked until his back ached. To them, he was still just a prize to be broken.
"Don't," Jiahao whispered, his eyes stinging with tears of pure, helpless rage. "Please."
The alpha didn’t listen. He pulled Jiahao closer, his scent turning aggressive as the grip turned into bruises. "If he were a real Alpha, you wouldn't be out here alone, and you wouldn't be unmarked."
"Release him."
Mistress Hana stood at the entrance of the alley, her iron-shod walking stick clicking sharply against the ground. She looked small against the towering Alpha, but her eyes were flinty and unafraid.
"I have already sent my runner for the village guards," she said, her voice cutting through the fog like a blade. "If you don't take your hands off my worker right now, you will be explaining this mess to the Magistrate.”
The Alpha growled, his lip curling in a snarl, but the threat of the law was enough. He shoved Jiahao away in an aggressive hostile way. "He’s a fallen noble, Hana. Don't act like he’s precious."
"He is more precious than you have the wit to understand," Hana snapped, her stick striking the earth once more.
As the man retreated into the mist, Jiahao lowered his hands to his knees, pressing down to steady the tremor running through them. He then adjusted the herb basket on his arm, exhaling a shaky breathe he had kept hidden.
Hana was at his side. Her steady, cool hands pulled his clothing over his bruised shoulders, covering the marks the Alpha had left.
"Up now, Jiahao. The world is full of dogs who bark at what they cannot have. We are going back to the shop."
─ ·✶· ─ ·
The evening in the cottage began as it always did. When the heavy thud of the door announced Junseo’s return, Jiahao met him with a warm, steady smile. There was no trace of the afternoon's fear in his eyes, only the gentle and loving gazes from his eyes.
"You’re late tonight," Jiahao said softly, "Mistress Hana gave us a salted beef soup and some leek pancakes. Sit. Let’s eat while the broth is still hot."
Junseo sank onto a low stool, his body trembling from the sheer exhaustion in the iron mines. He watched as Jiahao moved nimbly around the small space, serving the food with a grace that even poverty couldn't steal. To Junseo, as long as Jiahao was smiling, the world outside the cottage didn't exist.
It was only later, when the bowls were cleared and the fire had burned down, that the truth surfaced.
Jiahao knelt behind Junseo, as he did every night, to tend to the Alpha’s battered body. He dipped a cloth into a basin of warm water and began to wipe away the grey stone dust from Junseo’s neck and shoulders.
"Stay still," Jiahao murmured, leaning closer to reach a stubborn streak of grime.
As Jiahao moved, his clothes slipped just an inch. The flickering firelight caught the skin of his throat, and Junseo’s breath hitched in his chest. There, against the pale column of Jiahao’s neck, was a jagged, angry imprint of four fingers—a mark left by a hand that had no right to be there.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Junseo didn't move, but his scent—usually the warm, steady smell of rain on earth—turned sharp and bitter with a sudden, agonizing realization. He didn't have to ask what had happened.
"Jiahao," Junseo rasped, his voice breaking. He caught Jiahao’s hands in his own, his touch heavy and trembling as he forced the Omega to look at him. "Who touched you?"
"It doesn't matter, Junseo. It is a ghost of a moment, nothing more."
Junseo pulled his hand back, clenching it into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He looked around their tiny, drafty shack. He looked at the thin blanket and the meager fire. "You aren't fine," Junseo choked out, the words tearing at his throat. "I sold my life so you could be free, and I can't even walk you to work. I'm stuck in that hole in the ground while they... while they hunt you."
He sank to his knees in front of Jiahao, looking at his calloused, stained hands—the hands of a laborer, not a protector.
A tear, hot and bitter, tracked through the grime on his cheek.
"I have all this strength, Jiahao. I can lift stones that break other men. I can work until I bleed. But I can't protect you from a shadow in an alleyway. What kind of Alpha am I?"
Jiahao reached out, his soft fingers threading through Junseo’s tangled, dusty hair. He pulled the Alpha’s head against him, holding him close.
"You're the Alpha who gives me a home to come back to," Jiahao murmured, though his own heart was shattering. "That has to be enough."
The Alpha was still on his knees, his forehead pressed against Jiahao’s stomach, his large frame trembling with the weight of a world that demanded everything and gave back nothing.
"Junseo," Jiahao whispered, his tone shifting from comfort to a firm, quiet command. "Look at me."
Junseo shook his head, his rough, scarred hands clutching at the coarse linen of Jiahao’s robes.
"I am sorry," Junseo choked out. "I have nothing to give you but this... this life. I have brought you to a shack where I cannot even afford a drop of medicinal oil to soothe the bruises on your skin. I cannot even guard the path you walk to work."
"I do not want the silk and comfort you think I am missing," Jiahao said. He tilted Junseo’s chin up, his thumb brushing over a smudge of iron soot on the Alpha's cheekbone. “I want these hands, even if they are stained with coal. I want the man who chose to stay with me when everyone else ran away.”
Junseo’s breath hitched, his fingers clutching Jiahao’s linen sleeves as if he were a drowning man.
"Now, lift your face up, Junseo" Jiahao breathed against his skin, his voice thick with a new kind of devotion. "Will you look at me, my Alpha?"
The word hung in the quiet air of their shack, heavier and more precious than any gold coin.
Junseo froze. His entire frame shuddered. It was the first time the title had crossed Jiahao's lips. "Alpha" was a title of belonging.
Jiahao lowered himself until he was eye-level with Junseo. He reached out, his ink-stained fingers catching Junseo's chin, forcing the Alpha to look at him.
Jiahao could see Junseo's kind lingering eyes better like this. But as much as he loved to see that soft gentleness, he couldn’t help but drag his eyes down to Junseo’s lips.
The omega then leaned in closer; letting the silence stretch, heavy and sweet, and the distance between them became an unbearable ache.
At this point, he could feel it too that Junseo was thinking about it. He was staring at him hard.
Then he finally leaned over to close the final gap.
His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to Junseo's, the scent of mugwort and lavender collided in the small space between them.
The first touch was light. Then it was soft, hesitant and sweet.
Jiahao's hands found Junseo's hair, pulling him closer until there was no air between them. Their hearts were thudding against each other's ribs in one same beat. Jiahao’s lips were cool, tasting like honey— slow, comforting, and hard to let go of while Junseo’s were warm, salty, and Jiahao couldn’t help but reach for more.
He leaned further into Junseo’s space, his body pressing against the Alpha’s sturdy chest until there was no air left between them.
As they kissed, Junseo slid his tongue in, tasting their soft flesh together, making Jiahao throw his head back in a needy moan. Jiahao would fall right there if it weren’t for the firm grip the Alpha had on him.
"More... Alpha, don't stop... Ah!"
He tilted his head, seeking a more desperate angle, his whimper soft but needy.
When Junseo’s mouth parted, Jiahao didn't hesitate. He pushed inside, his tongue wet and warm as it met Junseo’s one more time.
Junseo’s hand slid from Jiahao’s waist to the small of his back, pulling the Omega flush against the hard, unrelenting heat of his thighs.
"It feels... mmh... so good,” Jiahao gasped, his fingers digging into the hard muscles of Junseo’s shoulders.
Driven by a feverish, instinctive need Jiahao hooked his legs around Junseo's waist as he began to grind in a slow torturous ccircle against the Alpha’s hardening heat.
"Ah... Junseo..." Jiahao’s voice broke into a high-pitched moan, his head lolling back. Each deliberate slide of his hips made him gasp, his breath coming in shallow, needy puffs against Junseo’s neck.
With a low, possessive growl, Junseo began to scent him earnestly, his nose dragging firmly along the sensitive line of Jiahao’s neck before his teeth grazed the heavy pulse point of the scent gland. Jiahao could already feel his slick blooming deep down there; his slick filled the air thick with a honeyed, floral sweetness that signaled his total readiness to be claimed.
"It’s too much... mmh... please, I need—"
Jiahao was breathless. But even as his senses frayed, he continued to rock himself, chasing the sweet friction.
"Jiahao, stop—you’re going to..." Junseo choked out, his eyes blown wide; obviously surprised then adored Jiahao’s desperation.
But Jiahao only proceeded further, his teeth grazing Junseo’s earlobe as he picked up the pace, his movements becoming more and more frantic. "I don't want to stop," he sobbed into the Alpha’s skin, his entire body trembling with the force of the pleasure building behind his ribs. "It feels so good... Junseo, feel me... feel how much I want you."
Junseo lifted him effortlessly, carrying him the two steps to the straw mattress. It was a humble bed, but as Jiahao sank into it, pulling Junseo down with him, it felt more sacred than any silk-draped canopy in the manor.
"Are you sure?" Junseo rasped, his voice thick with the effort of holding back his own surging instincts. "Once I... once we do this, there is no going back. You’ll be bound to me."
Jiahao reached up, fingers framing Junseo’s face, pulling him down until their lips were almost touching. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life," Jiahao breathed. "Bound me, Junseo. I want to be your omega."
Junseo began to undress him then held him open by his knees. Jiahao panted heavily as he felt the instant cold air wash over him.
"You’re so beautiful," Junseo rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stone. "You’re so... god, Jiahao."
The way Jiahao jolted when Junseo's fingers traced his entrance and made contact with the slick, swollen center. Junseo watched Jiahao's chest heave as he began to circle his clits.
"You're so sensitive," Junseo rumbled, his voice vibrating against Jiahao’s chest as he leaned over him. He added a second finger, sliding it shallowly into the soaking heat of Jiahao’s entrance while his thumb continued its relentless work on the clit.
"Look how much you’re shaking for me. You’re soaking wet, Jiahao."
"Because of you... ah!... it’s all because of you," Jiahao gasped, his face flushed deep crimson red.
"Junseo... what are you—ah!"
He was cut off by a sharp, electric jolt of pleasure as Junseo leaned in; full face sucking his clits. Junseo didn’t stop there because next it was his tongue pushing deep inside Jiahao’s soaking wet hole. Junseo thought he might had truly gone feral with the way he couldn’t get enough of that tight, velvet heat. He feasted on Jiahao’s and his hands bruised the omega’s soft porcelain skin to hold him steady against the relentless intrusion of his tongue.
"Oh god! Junseo! Junseo!" Jiahao screamed, his back arching violently, burying his head to the mattress.
Junseo only sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing as he drank in the sweet, floral slick that Jiahao was weeping.
"I'm coming... I'm—ah, ah!" Jiahao’s voice broke into a melodic scream. His inner muscles pulsed frantically against the air, and as Junseo gave one final, powerful pull with his lips, Jiahao’s world shattered. He collapsed back into the straw, his body twitching in the aftershocks of a climax.
"Oh, Alpha," Jiahao whimpered, the title slipping out with a reverence that made Junseo’s jaw tighten. "You made me feel so good…”
But the ache in his core hadn't vanished. With a shameless, heavy-lidded gaze, Jiahao reached down, his fingers trembling as he caught his own ankles. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled his knees back toward his chest, spreading his legs even wider than before in a silent, staggering invitation.
"Again," Jiahao breathed, his voice a sultry, needy command. "This time, I want to feel all of you, Alpha. Put it inside me... please. I need to feel how much you own me."
Junseo let out a sound that was half-snarl, half-sob. He moved between Jiahao’s thighs, his massive frame completely eclipsing the Omega’s smaller, trembling one. As Junseo freed his hardened cock, it sprung forth immediately—thick, heavy, and radiating a fierce, pulsing heat.
With the length now in his hand, Jiahao’s lidded eyes remained fixed on that swollen curve, tracing every vein and the sheer, beautiful power of it. A fresh wave of heat pooled between Jiahao's legs, and he wanted to sob at just how shameless he was being, craving every inch of the man who had once been forbidden to him.
As Junseo’s finally thrust inside him, Jiahao melted, letting out a breathilg moan, his head falling back as he arched his spine. "Please.... I’ve waited so long," he almost sobbed; pleasure hit the roof, his fingers clenching the Alpha’s thick forearms. "Don't be gentle. Just... fill the empty space. Make me yours."
The first friction was slow and sweet. The weight filled Jiahao up to the fullest. He loved the throbbing sensation and how Junseo's cock stretched him.
"Junseo... ah!... you're so—" Jiahao’s voice cut off as Junseo finally bottomed out, his heavy weight settling firmly against Jiahao’s pelvis. The air in the cottage seemed to leave Jiahao’s lungs all at once.
Junseo let out a guttural, tortured groan, burying his face in the crook of Jiahao’s neck. "You're so tight... fucking hell, Jiahao," he rasped, his voice vibrating through Jiahao’s entire frame. "I feel like you’re going to break me."
"Don't... don't be still," Jiahao begged, his legs wrapping around Junseo’s waist, his heels digging into the Alpha’s lower back to urge him into motion. "Move. I want to feel... how much you’ve wanted me. Do you want me like I want you, Alpha?"
Junseo wasn’t about to disappoint his sweet and pretty omega.
He didn't hold back anymore. He began to drive into Jiahao with a punishing rhythm—each thrust a heavy, wet thud that echoed against the wooden floorboards. The sounds were primal: the slap of skin on skin, the frantic creak of the straw mattress, and the constant, needy whimpers escaping Jiahao’s throat. The alpha continued ramming him at a steady pace, the omega's body bouncing on the bed, crying in pleasure.
"Yes! Right there! Alpha... ah, ah!" Jiahao’s head thrashed from side to side, his fingers clawing deep into Junseo’s broad, scarred shoulders.
Every time Junseo hit his mark, Jiahao’s vision sparked with white light, his internal muscles clenching in a frantic, rhythmic pulse that only spurred the Alpha to go faster.
The laborer’s strength was tireless. Junseo stayed over him, his arms like iron pillars flanking Jiahao’s head, his dark eyes fixed on Jiahao’s face with a terrifying, worshipful intensity. He watched every flinch, every tear, and every moan as he claimed what he had once only dared to watch from the shadows of the garden.
"You’re mine," Junseo growled as he picked up the pace. His thrusts becoming shorter, harder, and more desperate. "Mine, mine, mine."
"I'm yours," Jiahao choked, the pleasure climbed up to his breaking point. "I'm yours... Alpha!... Ah!"
The scent of cedar and honeyed slick exploded in the room as they both came—Junseo pinning Jiahao down with a final, staggering thrust. At the peak of his release, the Alpha leaned down and bit deep into Jiahao’s scent gland, his teeth piercing the skin to officially claim him, marking him forever as his own.
As for Jiahao, he was shaken as the pleasure got too high. He let out a shattered cry as he felt the deepest, fullest stretch of the Alpha’s cock—it felt impossibly thick and massive as it began to knot firmly inside his searing, wet hole. The primal lock anchored them together, heart to heart and skin to skin, sealing a vow that no debt or distance could ever hope to break.
"My omega..." Junseo murmured into the crown of Jiahao’s hair, his voice no longer heavy with guilt, but with a quiet, fierce pride. "You're mine now,"
Jiahao shifted, pressing a soft kiss to Junseo’s collarbone, his eyes fluttering shut in the first true sleep he’d had in months. "I’ve always been yours," he whispered. "You just finally brought me home."
─ · · fin