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The digital clock on the nightstand flickered 4:35 AM, casting a dull red glow over the room while the rest of the dorm stayed silent. To anyone else, Keonho's cold stares and sharp comments made it seem like he hated Seonghyeon, but the truth was hidden behind the heavy curtain on his wall and the identical soaps lined up in his bathroom cabinet. He didn't just dislike Seonghyeon; he was consumed by him, having memorized every detail of the man's schedule and every tiny habit he had.
Now, restless and wired in the dark, Keonho stared at his phone screen with shaky breaths, his hand moving rhythmically as he watched a stolen photo of his roommate. As the quiet moans slipped out, he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the fantasy, imagining those soft, pink lips finally wrapping around him instead of just mocking him from across the hall.
He lazily wiped the screen of his phone, watching as his release blurred the image of Seonghyeon’s face before the light timed out, plunging the room back into a dull, red-tinted darkness. As his heart rate slowed, the air in the room shifted, carrying the heavy, scent of sweet almond drifting through the gap under his door. It was a scent Keonho knew better than his own—creamy, sugary, and currently deepening with a musk that signed Seonghyeon's heat was approving. And the timing was perfect; spring break was days away, leaving the dorms empty and Seonghyeon alone to deal with his body's demands.
The thought should have been a relief, but instead, it felt like a cold blade twisting in his chest. The idea of Seonghyeon spending those days vulnerable—or worse, seeing out a stranger to dull the ache—made Keonho's blood simmer with a possessive, ugly jealousy. He knew that almond scent was still pure, untainted by anyone else's mark, and he couldn't stand the thought of that changing.
He noticed the sound of slow, clumsy footsteps in the hallway. It sounded like someone walking in a daze. There were two soft knocks on the door, quiet but persistent.
"...Keonho..."
The voice was small and ended in a little whine. Keonho could tell Seonghyeon was still half-asleep and looking for him. He quickly tossed his phone onto the bed and pulled the blankets up, hiding the messy sheets just in time. He stood by the bed, watching the door as it slowly began to open.
Keonho's gaze dropped, tracking the hem of the oversized shirt—belonging to one of their other roommates, a fact that made his jaw tighten with a fresh spike of irritation. The sight of those bare, milky thighs was almost enough to break his composure, the urgent to leave a permanent mark on that soft skin pulse-quickening and raw. I have forced his expression to remain a blank. "You should be sleeping," he said, through his dark eyes briefly shown a hunger that went deeper than simple annoyance.
Seonghyeon just shot his head, a small, sleepy pout forming as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "They're doing it again," he murmured, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway. Through the thin walls, the unmistakable, rhythmic sounds of Juhoon's moans echoed into the corridor—loud, erotic, and wet.
The air in the small space between them was already thick with Seonghyeon's almond scent, but now, spiked with the secondary pheromones of another Omega in the house, it was becoming an intoxicating lure. Keonho watched Seonghyeon intently, the irony of the situation burning in his throat; he had just finished his own private worship of the boy, and now the real thing was standing in his doorway, seeing refuge from the same sounds Keonho had been making only moments before.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Keonho in the hallway. He leaned his back against the wood, his heart hammering a against his ribs. Letting Seonghyeon into his room was probably the worst mistake he's made yet; his sweet scent would be baked into his sheets and pills by morning, marking his territory in a way Keonho had only ever dreamed of.
But the sight of the older boy tossing his phone to the floor—seeing the evidence of Keonho's obsession and choosing silence—left a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. He wasn't sure if Seonghyeon was too exhausted to process it or if he was simply used to Keonho's "hatred" manifesting in strange, dark ways.
He made his way to the living room, the floorboards cold bend his feet. Every step away from his bedroom felt like a pull against a leash. From down the hall, the sounds of Juhoon's heat continued, a repetitive soundtrack that filled the apartment.
Keonho slumped onto the stiff cushions of the couch, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. The couch was uncomfortable and the noise was a headache, but it was better than the alternative. Being in that bed, with Seonghyeon's pre-heat pheromones saturating the air, would have been a death sentence for his self-control. He'd rather listen to his roommates fuck than risk taking what he wanted from the boy sleeping in his bed.
Keonho woke up long after the other guys had left. His own flight wasn't until 2:00 PM, giving him a few hours of quiet he didn't really want. After a brutally cold shower to wash away the thoughts of the night before, he dragged his suitcases into the hallway. He paused by his bedroom door, watching the morning sunlight spill over Seonghyeon's sleeping form, lighting up his bare stomach like he was some kind of angel. Before leaving, Keonho made sure his private bathroom was locked tight. He couldn't risk anyone—specially not Seonghyeon—finding the collection of stolen items and matching scents he kept hidden in there.
The weather outside was miserable, a sticky heat that made his clothes cling to his skin and his hair damp. As he waited on the curb, his taxi taking forever to arrive, a dark part of him tempted him to go back inside. He wanted to go back into his room and finally touch what he'd been craving. Seeing his parents was supposed to be a distraction, a way to clear his head and get away from the suffering obsession, but even as he finally got into the car, his mind was already spiraling back to the boy he'd left behind in his bed.
The taxi was nearly twenty minutes away from the dorm when Keonho's heart suddenly dropped into his stomach. He patted his jacket pockets, then frankly zipped open his carry-on, his movements becoming more panicked by the second. The dresser. He could see it clearly in his mind—the small, dark booklet sitting right next to his lamp, exactly where he'd set it down after checking his flight details.
The ride back felt twice as long. By the time he reached the apartment building, a sharp headache was already throbbing at the base of his skull, fueled by the oppressive heat of having to go back. He hit the elevator button repeatedly, his jaw set in a hard line. He just needed to get in, grab the passport, and leave. But as he stood before the wooden door of the apartment and slid his key into the lock, he stopped.
The silence he expected was gone. From the other side of the door came a series of soft, muffled sounds—halfway between a sob and a whimper. That familiar almond scent was no longer just a hint; it was pouring through the cracks of the door, thick, sweet, and heavy with the unmistakable musk of a heat.
Keonho pushed the door open with practiced slowness, hoping that he could just take the passport and run. He tried to keep his gaze level, to stay focused on the dresser just past the living room, but the sight before him hit like a physical blow. Seonghyeon was sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide in a desperate, trembling V. He wasn't sleeping anymore; he was drowning in the peak of his heat.
In his hand, a glass toy caught the light, sliding in and out of his slick, dripping opening with a wet, rhythmic sound. The clear surface was already coated in thick, milky juices, reflecting the flush of his inner thighs. Seonghyeon's head was through back, his ears drooping as the toy hit a sensitive spot, forcing a broken, high-pitched whine from his throat. His pale chest swelling, covered in a feverish pink blush that spread all the way up to his neck.
The moment the dark, bitter scent of chocolate hit the air, Seonghyeon's thighs give a sharp, involuntary twitch. His gaze locked onto Keonho, wide and glazed with a mix of haze and hunger, but he didn't stop. If anything, his movements become more deliberate, his eyes tracking Keonho's every reaction as if he'd been waiting for an audience. His free hand drifted upward, fingers pinching and rolling his flushed nipples, a silent invitation that made Keonho's pulse throb in his ears.
Keonho knew the taxi was idling downstairs. He knew the passport was just a few feet away, and his flight would leave with or without him. But the sight of Seonghyeon spread open like this, completely pliant and drenched in his own need, made the idea of leaving feel impossible. The apartment was filled with the slick, squelching sound of the glass toy being swallowed and expelled by Seonghyeon's tight heat.
Keonho stood frozen for a heartbeat, his shadow falling over the couch, his expression darkening into something predatory. "Poor kitty," he murmured. He didn't move towards the dresser. Instead, he stepped closer to the couch, his eyes fixed on the wet friction of the glass. "Can you go faster?"
The sight of Seonghyeon's weakening grip and trembling legs; he was too hesitant, too soft. Step by step, Keonho closed the distance, the bitter-dark scent of his chocolate pheromones flooding the air until it nearly blocked out the sweet almond. He leaned over the couch, his shadow looming large as he pushed Seonghyeon flat against the cushions, pinning him down.
Keonho's fingers closed around the glass toy, sliding it out with a wet, lingering drag that made Seonghyeon gasp. Before the older could even process the loss, Keonho pressed his thumb firmly against Seonghyeon's swollen, sensitive clit, grinding in a slow circle that forced a sharp, broken whine from his throat. Then, without a hint of mercy, he shoved the toy back in deep, starting a brutal, slowless rhythm that made the glass clink against the couch frame.
Seonghyeon's body jerked in shock, his hips instinctively trying to shy away from the overwhelming sensation, but Keonho's hand held him down by his waist; "You can take it, can't you?" Keonho hissed, his voice a low, dangerous growl near Seonghyeon's ear. "This is what you wanted, right, kitty? You wanted me to see you like this."
Seonghyeon couldn't even form words, his head tossing back and forth against the fabric as his spine arched in a desperate curve. His internal muscles cried down on the glass, milk-white fluids splashing against Keonho's hand with every heavy strike.
"gonna—gonna cum— keonho, please..." Seonghyeon sobbed out, his vision blurring as he neared a jagged, violent peak. He reached out blindly, his fingers digging into Keonho's forearms, begging for the very release that was currently tearing through his resolve.
Just as Seonghyeon was about to crash over the edge, Keonho yanked the toy out. The sudden void left Seonghyeon's body twitching, his muscles pressing around nothing as a wet pop echoed in the quiet room. Tears welcomed in his eyes, and he practically nailed at Keonho's arms in a blind panic. "w—why? please, no..." He have sobbed, his voice high and broken. "was mng so close please..."
Keonho didn't say a word, letting out a low, dark hum as his eyes traveled over Seonghyeon's ruined state. He reached out, his thumb dragging across one of Seonghyeon's aching nipples and squeezing just enough to make a few drops of milk bead up and spill over. "Pretty," Keonho whispered, his voice thick with a possessive heat. "You're so pretty, princess."
Seonghyeon let out a helpless whimper when Keonho leaned down, his mouth finally latching onto his chest and sucking softly. Starved for the friction he'd just lost, Seonghyeon began to rut his hips desperately against the hard ridge in Keonho's jeans, his entire body begging the younger boy to finally give him what he needed.
Teasing was getting harder as Keonho felt himself getting more and more worked up. He slid a finger deep into Seonghyeon's soaking heat while his tongue licked the last drops of milk from his nipple. When he finally leaned up to kiss him, it was a messy collision of salt and sweet almond. Seonghyeon was just as desperate, his moans disappearing into Keonho's mouth.
Keonho shoved his jeans down just enough to let himself free. Seeing him for the first time, Seonghyeon's eyes widened in shock; Keonho was much bigger than he'd ever expected. "'s not gonna fit..." he whispered, his shaking legs trying to pull together.
Keonho's hand stayed firm, blocking his legs and forcing them wide again. "I'll make it fit, kitty. You'll take whatever I give you." To provide he meant it, he delivered a sharp smack against Seonghyeon's pale high, leaving a bright red handprint on his skin.
Keonho lined himself up and pushed just the head inside. Seonghyeon was so tight he immediately clamped down, making Keonho groan. "It's going to hurt if you keep tensing up, kitty," he warned. He rubbed slow circles into Seonghyeon's hips, listening to the quiet, shaky "sorries" the older boy whispered through his tears. The mix of pain and intense pleasure was overwhelming, making Seonghyeon feel like he was being stretched to his breaking point.
With one slow, heavy thrust, Keonho buried himself all the way in. Seonghyeon went completely still, his body feeling dangerously full. Keonho pressed his hand down on Seonghyeon's lower stomach, right where the bulge of his length was visible beneath the skin. "I'm going to breed you baby," Keonho promised, his voice dark. "I'm giving you exactly what you've been begging for."
Seonghyeon could only nod, his hand weakly gripping Keonho's wrist. The feeling of being stretched so wide was too much to handle while staying still. "move, please..." he whimpered, his hips giving a wake, tiny twitch. "keonho, please."
Keonho didn't hesitate, pulling Seonghyeon's legs back until he was practically folded in half, then slamming back inside with a brutal, slowless pace. Every heavy thrust hit Seonghyeon's sweet spot with pinpoint accuracy, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. But as Keonho shifted his angle, digging deeper, he collided hard with a sensitive bundle of flesh that made Seonghyeon's entire body lock up.
"Ng... h-hurts..." Seonghyeon sobbed, his hands scrambling against the couch as he tried to push himself away from the overwhelming sensation. It was too much, a sharp spike of intensity that felt like it was bruising him from the inside out.
But Keonho didn't let up. He gripped Seonghyeon's waist even tighter, his fingers digging into the soft skin to keep him pinned firmly in place. He ignored the pleas, his jaw set in a hard line as he continued his slow pounding, forcing Seonghyeon to take every inch of him. He wanted to leave a mark on the older boy that wouldn't fade, ensuring that every time Seonghyeon felt that here, he would remember exactly who put it there.
The room was heavy with the thick, sugary scent of almond as Keonho leaned down, his tongue dragging over Seonghyeon's neck before his teeth sank gently into the scent gland. The bite drew out a broken, high-pitched moan that dissolved into a soft, involuntary purr. Every time Keonho slammed home, hitting that sensitive spot, more milky liquid squirted out of Seonghyeon, soaking the cushions beneath them.
The friction was becoming more intense, and Seonghyeon could feel a new, territorially good pressure building. At the base of Keonho's length, a light swell began to form, a hard knot that signaled the end was near.
Keonho's movements slowed to a heavy, sluggish grind as his base began to expand, the knot locking him firmly inside Seonghyeon's pressing heat. The sensation was overwhelming; Seonghyeon felt like warm velvet, clutching onto him as if his internal muscles were trying to swallow him whole. Keonho leaned down, capturing the older boy's mouth in a final, bruising kiss. He bit down on Seonghyeon's bottom lip, the sharp tang of copper hitting his tone as a tiny bead of blood surfed.
"Why does every part of you taste so good, kitty?" he rasped, his voice dropping to a jagged whisper.
But Seonghyeon was far beyond answering. His head was thrown back, his breathing coming in short, panicked gasps as his vision tunneled. His eyes were wide, irises dilated until they were nearly black, fixed in a dazed stare on his own lower stomach. He watched, mesmerized and terrified, as his pale skin stretched and sweeled, visibly distending with the sheer size of the knot Keonho had forced inside him.
Keonho stayed there for a moment, letting the silence of the room settle over them, broken only by Seonghyeon's ragged breathing. The smaller boy looked completely spent, his skin still flushed a deep pink. He leaned into Keonho's hand, nuzzling his palm with a needy, feline grace.
"..m love you.. love you a lot," Seonghyeon whispered, the words slurred and heavy with the haze of his heat.
When Keonho finally began to pull out, the knot having received enough to allow movement, Seonghyeon let out a sharp, painted whine. The loss of that fullness was a physical ache, leaving him feeling cold and empty despite the mess between his thighs.
"Do you?" Keonho asked, his voice low and unreadable as he looked down at the ruined boy. "Is it because I gave you what you wanted?"
Without a second of hesitation, Seonghyeon nodded, his eyes wide and trusting. In his current headspace, the lines between roommate and protector had completely blurred; to him, Keonho wasn't just the guy who shared his apartment—he was his mate. The thick, sugary almond scent that had been screaming through the room finally began to soften, returning to its usual, subtle sweetness. He looked peaceful, tucked into the cushions, finally stilled by the very thing he'd been craving.
As Keonho felt Seonghyeon's weight go heavy against him, he carefully tucked his arms under the smaller boy and lifted him. Seonghyeon didn't even wake, his limits instinctively curling around Keonho's neck as if he were a lifeline. Keonho glanced back at the couch, which was darkened and soaked through with the evidence of the last hour.
"You made a mess, princess," Keonho murmured.
Seonghyeon's eyes fluttered open for just a second, blinking sleepily at the ruined cushions before he let out a tiny, exhausted huff and buried his face back into the crook of Keonho's neck. They had a full week of solitude before the others returned—plenty of time to clean the fabric and, more importantly, to keep Seonghyeon right where he wanted him.
He carried him into his bedroom and laid him gently on the sheets. Seeing the dried salt and milky streaks across Seonghyeon's skin, Keonho disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, wet towel. He worked in silence, his touch unusually gentle as he wiped down the boy's trembling thighs and swollen stomach. Seonghyeon was far too weak to stand in a shower now, but Keonho didn't mind the extra work. He'd wash him properly in the morning; for now, he just wanted to crawl into bed and hold him.
The room was quiet now, the only sound the steady, rhythmic breathing of the boy curled against Keonho's side. Keonho's fingers moved lazily, tracing slow, invisible patterns across the soft skin of Seonghyeon’s waist before moving up to tangle in his hair. The contact was soothing, and within seconds, Seonghyeon's head grew heavy against his chest as he drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Keonho stared at the ceiling, his mind already spinning a web of lies for his parents. He'd tell them he got stuck in traffic, or that he'd misplaced his passport until it was too late—anything to explain why he wasn't on that plane.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the pale, sensitive skin of Seonghyeon's neck. He started leaving a new trail of dark, bruised marks, claiming the space right over the scent gland. The sight of his own marks on that "angelic" skin was the only thing that felt real.
The heat of the room and the exhaustion of the last few hours finally started to pull at him. His eyes felt heavy. He couldn't even remember the moment his eyes finally closed, just knew he'd want to tattoo where he touched.