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The air in Yunho’s bedroom was thick and heavy with unspoken words, scented with Mingi’s contentment. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum solo that echoed the frantic rhythm of the blood rushing through his veins.
One of Mingi’s hands was still tangled in his hair, and the other was stroking a soothing pattern along the nape of his neck. Their foreheads were pressed together, sharing the same tiny pocket of space in the universe that they had carved out for themselves.
“I love you,” Mingi whispered, the words barely audible.
Yunho laughed, a breathy and utterly wrecked sound. “I love you more, silly.”
Mingi’s answering chuckle was a low rumble that vibrated through Yunho’s chest—one that went straight down to his heart, then through his heart, and straight down to his cock. “No way. I love you first!”
“I loved you harder,” Yunho retorted, and then he was closing that minuscule distance, sealing their mouths together in a kiss that was nothing like the chaste pecks they’d shared minutes before.
Yunho swept in on Mingi’s lips as they parted on a gasp, tasting mint and something uniquely Mingi, something sweet and home. He nipped at Mingi’s bottom lip, earning a whimper that stirred his groin. Mingi was kissing back with equal fervor. All tongue, teeth, and needy sounds.
The kiss deepened in a messy clash of desire. Yunho’s hands roamed, sliding down Mingi’s back to grip the firm swell of his ass, pulling him against his body. The friction of their clothed erections was maddening, a delicious tease that had Yunho rutting forward involuntarily.
A wave of intense, possessiveness washed over him, so potent that it made him dizzy. His rut, which had been simmering beneath the surface for days—thanks to the mixed signals that Mingi was giving him—was suddenly boiling over.
“Yunho,” Mingi gasped, breaking the kiss to pant against his jaw. His hips rocked forward, seeking more friction. “Yunho, please.”
“Yeah, baby, yeah,” Yunho groaned, maneuvering them toward the bed.
Mingi’s knees hit the mattress and he fell back with a soft oomph. Yunho followed him down, caging him in with his large alpha body, his weight a comforting pleasure. He couldn’t stop touching Mingi, kissing him—his jaw, neck, and the sensitive skin behind his ear.
Mingi writhed beneath him, arching his back. “Mark me,” he begged, his voice rough with need. “Scent me, whatever, Yunho. Please, I need to be yours.”
The request sent a jolt straight through Yunho’s system. An alpha’s prerogative, and the primal urge to stake his claim, was being freely offered to him.
He didn’t hesitate.
He lowered his head to the juncture of Mingi’s neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. The scent of blueberries, Mingi’s natural omega scent, was intoxicating. He let himself get addicted to Mingi’s scent, before reaching back and grazing his teeth on his nape.
Yunho bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but firm enough that Mingi cried out, the omega’s body going taut. Yunho laved over the mark with his tongue, sucking a dark, bruising circle into the flesh.
He gave Mingi hickeys on both sides of his neck afterwards, until Mingi was a canvas of purpled love bites, each one shouting Yunho’s ownership to the world. He rubbed his wrists and neck against every inch of skin he could reach, transferring his scent—citrus—until Mingi was practically drenched in him.
“More,” Mingi keened, his hands fisting in the sheets. “Please, alpha, I need more.”
Yunho’s control, already hanging by a thread, snapped. He fumbled with their clothes, practically ripping Mingi’s shirt off. He made quick work of their pants, shoving them down until they were both naked.
The sight of Mingi spread out for him, pupils blown wide with lust, cock flushed and leaking against his stomach, was the most beautiful thing Yunho had ever seen.
He reached between them, his fingers finding the cleft of Mingi’s ass. He circled his entrance, feeling the flutter of muscle. Yunho worked one finger in, then a second, scissoring them. Mingi took it beautifully, rocking back onto his hand, his cock twitching.
“Please, Yunho, now,” Mingi panted, looking up at him with glazed eyes.
Who was Yunho to deny him?
He lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against Mingi’s puckered hole. He pushed forward slowly, giving Mingi the time to adjust.
Yet Mingi’s breath hitched, and a sharp, pained hiss escaped his lips. His whole body went rigid.
“Wait! Stop!” Mingi cried out, his hands flying to Yunho’s hips to push him away.
Yunho froze, every muscle in his body immediately tensing. “Mingi? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pulled back immediately, a sickening wave of dread washing over him.
Mingi squeezed his eyes shut, his face a mask of discomfort. “It… it burns,” he breathed out. “You’re… it’s too much.”
Yunho looked down between them. His cock did look intimidatingly long and thick against Mingi’s small, straining entrance. “Oh god. Mingi, I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have—”
“Hey,” Mingi interrupted, his eyes fluttering open. He reached up, cupping Yunho’s face, his touch gentle despite the lingering pain etched on his features. “It’s not your fault, you big oaf. We’re just… not compatible this way for now, I guess.” He tried for a smile, but it came out as a wince.
Yunho felt a pang of loss so sharp it immediately made him go soft. “But I… I want to. I want—need to be inside you, Mingi.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Mingi said, his thumb stroking Yunho’s cheek. “We’ll find a way. Maybe… maybe I’m just too tight, and you’re too big. We need to… loosen me up, I guess?”
A plan was good. It was better than sitting here and wallowing in failure and hurting the person Yunho loved more than anything. “Okay,” Yunho agreed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Mingi’s lips. “We’ll find a way. First thing tomorrow. We’ll ask for help.”
The next morning, after a very awkward, very unsatisfying night of post-coital snuggling, Yunho found himself standing outside Seonghwa and San’s apartment door, Mingi hovering beside him looking equally mortified. Yunho knocked before he could lose his nerve.
San opened the door, a bright smile on his face that faltered ever-so-slightly when he saw their expressions. Seonghwa appeared behind him, looking elegant and concerned even in a simple crocheted sweater.
“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asked, his omega instincts kicking in.
Yunho took a deep breath. “We, uh… we have a problem. A… sexual compatibility problem.”
Mingi hid his face in his hands.
San’s expression shifted from concern to unholy glee in 1.27 seconds flat. “Ooh, a sexual compatibility problem! Do tell!”
Seonghwa, ever the pragmatic one, simply ushered them inside. “Sit. Tell us everything.”
So they did. They explained about the confession, the rut, and the… size issue. Yunho felt his cheeks burn with a level of embarrassment he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager who learned about furry inflation.
When they finished, there was a beat of silence. San was trying valiantly to hold back a laugh, and Seonghwa was tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin.
“Okay,” Seonghwa said finally. “I might have a solution. When San and I were first figuring things out, he was… similarly tight.”
“Hey!” San immediately dropped his smile, nudging at Seonghwa’s side. The other omega paid him no mind.
“We found that gradual stretching was the most effective method.”
“How?” Mingi asked, his voice muffled by his hands.
“I bought him a dildo collection.” Seonghwa’s smile was undeniable now.
Yunho blinked. “A… what?”
“A collection,” San confirmed, smiling once again. “You know. Small, medium, large, ‘what the fuck that’s a tentacle’. I would ride one every other day. Hwa would too, and it worked like a charm.”
Seonghwa shot San an unimpressed look but nodded. “It’s about acclimating the muscles. Start small and work your way up. It builds tolerance.”
An hour later, Yunho and Mingi found themselves in a brightly-lit adult shop called Princess Planet, staring at a wall that could only be described as a dildo wonderland.
It was… overwhelming. There were colors, shapes, and sizes Yunho didn’t even know existed.
“Okay,” Yunho coughed, adopting a clinical tone to mask his utter mortification. “Let’s be methodical. We need one for… beginners.” He picked up a slim, pink thing that looked vaguely like a fountain pen.
Mingi, peering over his shoulder, pointed to a monstrosity at the other end of the spectrum. It was black, veined, and roughly the size of Yunho’s forearm. “And, uh. One of those…”
Yunho’s throat went dry. “Right. For… target practice.”
That night, the atmosphere in their bedroom was less ‘passionate lovers’ and more ‘Project Hail Mingi’. Mingi was on his hands and knees on top of the bed, a towel laid out underneath him, looking at the lineup of silicone instruments with trepidation.
“Okay,” Yunho said, holding up the smallest one. “Let’s start with the smallest one. I’ll go slow, okay?”
It was… an experience, to say the least. Yunho, with the intense focus of a bomb disposal expert, lubed up the small dildo. Mingi, trying to be brave, just buried his face in a pillow and mumbled, “Just do it.”
The dildo went in with minimal fuss. The medium caused a bit of squirming. By the time they reached the large model, Mingi was actually enjoying himself. The flush on his cheeks was from arousal now and not embarrassment, and he was rocking back onto the silicone with a soft sigh.
Yunho watched, mesmerized by his boyfriend. His rut was still humming in the background, but this was different. This was about pleasuring Mingi, and seeing him come undone.
“Yunho,” Mingi breathed out, his voice husky. “Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yeah. Your turn to… you know.” He gestured vaguely toward Yunho’s very interested cock.
Yunho didn’t need to be told twice. He knelt on the bed, and Mingi, still impaled on the large dildo, shuffled forward and took Yunho into his mouth. It was sloppy and enthusiastic and perfect. Mingi’s moans vibrated around him as he rode the dildo, and Yunho fisted a hand in his hair, guiding him.
The sight was enough to send Yunho hurtling toward the edge. Mingi’s stretched out lips around him, his hollowed cheeks, and the desperate little sounds he was making as the toy hit a particularly good spot inside him were all enough to make Yunho cum with a groan. The feeling of Yunho’s release in Mingi’s mouth, combined with a particularly well-aimed thrust of the dildo, sent him over the edge right after Yunho.
They collapsed in a heap of sweaty, sated limbs. Yunho felt triumphant. They’d done it. They’d made progress.
The next morning, Yunho woke up with Mingi curled into his side, a happy little purr rumbling in his chest. His rut, appeased for the moment, was nothing but a manageable ache now. He leaned down and kissed the mating bite on Mingi’s nape, feeling a surge of possessive pride.
“Morning,” he murmured, his hand sliding down Mingi’s back to cup his ass. His fingers ventured lower, tracing his entrance.
Mingi tensed.
Yunho froze. He tentatively prodded the hole with one finger. It was like pushing against a brick wall. All that hard work from the night before was now gone.
Mingi rolled over, looking frustrated. “You have got to be kidding me. It’s like it never happened!”
Yunho sighed, dropping his head onto the pillow. “Well, plan A was a failure.”
“Plan B?” Mingi asked weakly.
“Plan B,” Yunho confirmed, already reaching for his phone to dial San’s number.
San answered on the second ring, sounding far too cheerful this early in the morning. “Yunho! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“The pleasure was all mine last night,” Yunho grumbled, “but the problem is back.”
San’s chuckle was warm and sympathetic. “Tight again, huh?”
“Very.”
“Okay,” San said, a thoughtful pause on the other end of the line. “Hwa’s dildo method is a great long-term strategy, but maybe you need something more… immediate. And interactive.”
“Which is?”
“Fingers,” San continued. “Lots of them. Seonghwa swears by it. I’ll finger him for an hour sometimes. Really work him open from the inside. Gets him so loose and pliable…”
There was a muffled sound on San’s end, followed by a scandalized gasp. “Sannie! Are you giving our sex life away as a tutorial?!”
San’s laugh was unrepentant. “Well yesterday was no use! They need help, babe! I’m just sharing the wealth of knowledge!”
Yunho felt his entire face flush. “Okay, I get it. We’ll try to… do that. Thanks, San. Tell Seonghwa I’m sorry.”
“He’ll live,” San chirped. “Good luck, you two! Don’t stress about anything!”
That night, Yunho had Mingi on his back with his legs spread wide. He’d lubed up his fingers generously, and he started with one, just like before. He took his time, curling his finger, stroking Mingi’s inner walls, watching for every twitch and shudder.
He added a second finger, scissoring them, stretching, but his focus was on the bundle of nerves he knew was hiding in there. When he brushed against it, Mingi’s back arched off the bed with a choked cry.
“There,” Yunho murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. He did it again, rubbing firm and insistent circles.
Mingi was a mess. He was writhing, clutching at the sheets, and babbling incoherently. Yunho worked in a third finger, then a fourth, his knuckles pressing against Mingi’s rim. He was stretching him wide in a constant pressure, all while torturing that sensitive spot deep inside.
“Yunho, please, I’m gonna… I’m…” Mingi’s words dissolved into a high-pitched whine as Yunho twisted his wrist, hitting it just right. His cock twitched violently and painted his stomach with stripes of white without a single hand on it.
Watching Mingi fall apart so beautifully was all it took for Yunho to come untouched by the sight alone enough to push him over. He was a pervert for Mingi, and he didn’t even care.
They lay there panting, the air thick with the scent of sex. Yunho gently withdrew his fingers, feeling incredibly pleased with himself. He gave Mingi a moment, then lined himself up, confident that this time it would work.
He pushed forward and… the result was still the same. A sharp gasp of pain, a frantic push against his hips, and a shake of Mingi’s head.
“Still too tight…” Mingi whimpered, sounding defeated.
Yunho’s triumphant mood evaporated. He sighed, flopping onto his back beside Mingi. “Okay. Plan C tomorrow.”
Yeosang, an alpha, was their next stop. He listened to Yunho and Mingi’s saga with a thoughtful frown, sipping his matcha.
“Fingers didn’t work?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Made him cum his brains out, but didn’t loosen him up for the main event,” Yunho said, slumping in his cafe chair. “It’s like he’s got some kind of magic self-resetting hymen in there.”
Mingi kicked him under the table. “Hey!”
Yeosang ignored the byplay, tapping a finger against his chin. “Jongho’s… not built like a freight train, so we haven’t had that exact problem. But we do use a technique to keep him open for a while.” He paused, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I knot him, and then I use a butt plug. Keeps him stretched out, and keeps my cum inside. It’s… efficient.”
A butt plug. It was so simple and so logical. Yunho and Mingi exchanged a look.
That afternoon, they found themselves back in Princess Planet, this time in the ass accessories aisle. Yeosang’s advice had been to start with a medium size, something substantial enough to do the job but not so large it would be a challenge in itself.
Mingi held up a sleek, black silicone plug with a flared base. “This one has a jewel on it,” he said, a wicked glint in his eye.
Yunho swallowed hard. “Get it.”
The plan was simple. Yunho would prepare Mingi with his fingers like he had the night before, get him good and loose, and then insert the plug. Mingi would then try to go about his day, the plug keeping him ready for Yunho’s attention the night after. It was a brilliant, foolproof plan.
The first part went swimmingly. Mingi was a moaning mess by the time Yunho had worked him open with four fingers. The cold, heavy slickness of the lubed-up plug pressing against his entrance made Mingi whine, but Yunho pushed it in slowly and carefully. The widest part breached him with a slight pop, and then it was settled inside him, the flared base nestled snugly against his cheeks. The dark jewel was a stark contrast to his skin.
“How does it feel?” Yunho asked, stroking Mingi’s thigh.
“Full,” Mingi breathed, experimentally clenching around it. “Weird. But… It's not bad. I think I can do this.”
The next morning, Mingi was a man on a mission. With Yunho out for work, he was determined to prove this method worked. He started by trying to make breakfast. It was a simple task—just pour cereal and add milk. He bent over to get the milk from the bottom shelf of the fridge.
The shift in angle pressed the plug directly against his prostate. A jolt of pure pleasure shot up his spine so intense that his vision went white. His knees buckled, and he slammed the refrigerator door with a bang. He gripped the counter, breathing heavily, his boxers suddenly feeling uncomfortably damp.
Okay, he thought. Avoid bending.
He moved on to tidying the living room. He bent down to pick up a discarded hoodie. Zap. Another shockwave of pleasure. He bit back a groan, his cock twitching insistently.
Mingi then started the laundry. He reached into the hamper, stretching forward. The movement shifted the plug again. And again. And again.
He was a mess of aching arousal, pre-cum steadily beading at the tip of his cock. He tried to vacuum, but the low rumbling vibrations travelled through the floor, up his legs, and seemed to resonate directly with the plug buried inside him.
He was vacuuming a particularly stubborn dust bunny under the couch when the butt plug hit him at just the right angle. Mingi stumbled back, a choked cry escaping his lips as his orgasm ripped through him. His knees gave out, and he sank to the floor, the vacuum still whirring away obliviously. He shuddered through the aftershocks, a hot, sticky mess spreading in his boxers.
Mingi came in his boxers, just from vacuuming. How perverted is that?
He heard the front door open and Yunho’s cheerful, “Mingi, I’m home!”
Mingi’s face burned with a mortification so profound he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He curled into a ball, hiding the wet patch on his boxers.
Yunho walked into the living room, took one look at him on the floor surrounded by dirt, and rushed over. “Mingi? What happened? Are you okay? Did you fall?”
Mingi just shook his head, burying his face in his arms. He couldn’t speak nor look at Yunho.
But the alpha’s gaze simply softened as he took in the scene—Mingi’s flushed state, the defensive posture, and the slightly damp look of his boxers. Realization dawned, and an affectionate smile spread across Yunho’s face. He didn’t laugh. He just crouched down and gently stroked Mingi’s hair.
“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”
Mingi peeked out at him, his eyes wide with embarrassment. “I… I was vacuuming.”
“I see that,” Yunho said, his voice full of warmth. He ran a hand down Mingi’s back until it rested over the swell of his ass, right over the base of the plug. He gave it a gentle, experimental press.
Mingi whimpered, his hips twitching.
“It’s okay,” Yunho repeated, leaning in to kiss his temple. “Actually, it’s kind of hot.”
The shame in Mingi’s chest loosened its grip, replaced by a slow-burning ember of desire at Yunho’s easy acceptance. The gentle press of the plug was a reminder of the fullness—a constant promise.
“Do you think…” Yunho’s voice vibrated through Mingi’s back. He pressed a little harder. “Can we try again? Now?”
Mingi’s answer was a frantic nod. He wanted to feel Yunho. He wanted to finally bridge that gap between them. Yunho helped him to his feet, guiding him to the couch. He laid Mingi down on his back, pulling off his boxers with a worship that made Mingi’s breath stutter.
Yunho knelt between his spread legs, his eyes dark with want. He carefully worked the plug out of Mingi’s hole, the stretch making Mingi moan. Yunho’s fingers replaced it immediately, checking and testing. Mingi was open, wider than Yunho had ever seen him be.
“It’s working,” Yunho breathed. He slicked up his cock with spit, the head flushed with need. He lined himself up, pushing forward.
The head of his cock slid in.
Mingi gasped. It was a stretch, but it wasn’t the sharp burn from before. It was… full. He could do this.
Yunho watched his face, gauging his reaction. He pushed forward another inch.
“No,” Mingi whimpered, tears of frustration welling in his eyes. “Why isn’t it working?”
That’s when the tight, unforgiving clamp of muscle that refused to yield hit Yunho. A pained whimper tore from Mingi’s throat, and Yunho stopped instantly, pulling back out with a frustrated groan.
“No, wait,” Mingi said, his voice small but firm. He reached for Yunho, pulling him down for a desperate kiss. “Don’t stop. Just… just the tip. Please, alpha. Just fuck me with the tip. I need to feel you.”
Yunho stared at him, a dozen conflicting emotions warring on his face. He wanted to, he needed to, but he was terrified of hurting Mingi. “Are you sure? Baby, if it hurts—”
“It won’t,” Mingi insisted, wrapping his legs around Yunho’s waist. “Just… go slow. Please.”
WIth a shuddering breath, Yunho acquiesced. He pushed in once more, just until the head of his cock breached Mingi’s hole. He stopped there, holding perfectly still. Mingi shuddered, a mix of pleasure and aching stretch. He was so tight that the clench of his muscles sent a dizzying pressure around Yunho’s sensitive tip.
“Okay?” Yunho breathed.
Mingi nodded, biting his lip. “Move slowly…”
Yunho began a shallow, rhythmic rocking, never pushing deeper than the crown. The friction was maddening. Each thrust was a tease, a promise of more that he couldn’t deliver. Mingi’s whimpers turned into moans, his hips lifting to meet each shallow thrust. The sight of Mingi, spread out and taking even just this piece of him, his face contorted in pleasure, was the most erotic thing Yunho had ever seen.
“Yunho… Yunho, I’m close,” Mingi panted, his hands scrabbling at Yunho’s back.
Yunho’s own orgasm was coiling in his gut. The urge to plunge in, to bury himself to the hilt and knot his omega, was overwhelming. His rut was screaming at him to claim, but he fought it down with the sheer force of love. He wouldn’t hurt Mingi.
“Look at me,” Yunho commanded, his voice strained. Mingi’s eyes, dark and glassy, fluttered open. With one final shallow thrust, Yunho pulled out completely. He fisted his cock, stroking it twice before he came with a cry, stripes of hot release painting Mingi’s stomach and chest. The sight was enough to send Mingi over the edge, and he came with a cry, adding to the mess between them.
Yunho’s knot swelled at the base of his cock, a useless empty knot tying him to nothing but his own frustration. He collapsed on top of Mingi, the sweat, cum, and desire mixing between the two of them.
They tried.
They succeeded, in a way, but it wasn’t enough.
Yeosang and Jongho were at a nearby park when they met with each other. They were on a bench overlooking a duck pond, and a few ducklings were playing with a small golden retriever. Jongho was resting his head on Yeosang’s shoulder, and Yeosang was absently stroking his hair.
“We’re at the end of our rope,” Yunho announced, without preamble.
Jongho sat up, his expression shifting from relaxed to concerned. “What happened? The plug didn’t work?”
Yeosang took in Mingi’s stiff posture, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, and the way he was shifting uncomfortably. “You’re wearing it now, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone flat.
Mingi’s cheeks went crimson. He nodded mutely.
Jongho’s concern turned to a thoughtful frown. He looked at Mingi, then at Yunho, then back at Mingi. He seemed to be running calculations. “Yeosang is… big. Like you, Yunho. When we have difficulty, it’s not about preparation. Not really.”
He paused, looking down at his hands. “He… he uses his mouth on me. For a long, long time. It relaxes everything in a way that fingers and toys can’t. It’s more… thorough? Yeah. It’s more thorough.”
Yeosang blinked, looking down at Jongho with a new light in his eyes. Jongho blushed but met his gaze steadily.
Yunho and Mingi stared. The thought was unexpectedly raw and intensely intimate.
“Rimming,” Yeosang clarified, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looked at Jongho. “It’s good. You two should try it. If all else fails, well, you can always go to the two freaks. Those two are always doing some kinky shit.”
That night, the mood in the bedroom was different again. There was no trace of frustration, only a focused intent. Yunho had pillows propped up under Mingi’s hips. He’d spent long minutes just kissing him, murmuring reassurances against his lips.
He moved down, kissing along Mingi’s thighs, nipping and sucking until the skin was sensitive. He bypassed Mingi’s straining cock, much to its owner’s dismay, and moved lower still. He inhaled the scent of Mingi’s entrance, sweet and intoxicating.
Yunho had never done this before, but for Mingi, he would do anything. He leaned in and experimentally licked a broad stripe over Mingi’s hole.
Mingi jolted as if he was tickled. “Yunho!”
Encouraged, Yunho did it again. He explored with his tongue, learning the taste and texture of Mingi. He traced the tight rim, then stiffened his tongue and pushed inside. The sounds Mingi was making were like Mozart—high, whining moans, broken pleas, and the rustle of sheets as he thrashed.
He worked him open for what felt like an eternity. His tongue was then replaced by a lubed finger, then two, stretching him while Yunho continued to lick and suck around them. He curled his fingers, finding that spot, and rubbed while he flicked his tongue over Mingi’s rim.
The combination was too much. Mingi’s body went rigid, a silent scream of his lips as his orgasm washed over him, so powerful it left him boneless.
Yunho watched him, possessiveness rising from deep within him. He waited for Mingi to float back down to earth, then positioned himself between his legs. Mingi was dripping, open, and swollen from Yunho’s attention.
He pushed the head of his cock in. It slid in easily.
Mingi sighed, a sound of pure relief. But as Yunho sank three more inches in him, that familiar wall of resistance met him, harder than ever. Mingi whimpered, the pleasure from moments ago quickly turning back to pain.
Yunho looked at Mingi, the omega’s expression begging him to continue just like yesterday. So he fucked him shallowly, thrusting just enough to not make his omega hurt. Even though Yunho would have liked to put all eight inches inside of Mingi, he still couldn’t risk the chance of hurting him.
As his orgasm approached him, he pulled out and ordered Mingi to suck him off, much to the omega’s delight. Mingi worked his tongue on Yunho’s cock until he exploded in his mouth only seconds after. His knot flared, yet he was still locking air.
They had no other choice. They had to go to Hongjoong and Wooyoung.
The couple wasn’t unhelpful. In fact, they were very helpful. It’s just that their help was always… complicated.
Yunho and Mingi found them in their natural habitat—Hongjoong’s home studio, a mess of cables and coffee cups. Wooyoung was draped over Hongjoong’s back like a human-shaped scarf, nipping at the omega’s ear while Hongjoong tried to tweak a knob on a soundboard with a long-suffering expression.
“What fresh hell have you two brought to our doorstep?” Wooyoung asked, not even bothering to sit up.
Hongjoong gently elbowed him in the ribs. “Be nice. They look like sad puppies.” He swiveled in his chair, crossing his arms. “Spill. And start at the beginning. Do not leave out details.”
So they did. For the third time, they recounted their sordid tale of woe. The dildos, the fingers, the plug, the rimming, the useless orgasms. By the end, Wooyoung was wheezing with laughter, and Hongjoong was stroking his chin with a terrifying intensity, Socrates-style.
“Okay,” Hongjoong said, finally breaking the silence. “Let me get this straight. Yunho, you’re in a rut. You’re in an ‘I must breed now’ rut.”
Yunho nodded miserably.
“And Mingi,” Hongjoong continued, his gaze shifting to him. “You’re an omega who has professed his love, submitted to being marked, and is enthusiastically trying to get railed into next month.”
Mingi blushed and nodded.
“So, all the biological imperatives are there,” Hongjoong mused. He looked over his shoulder at Wooyoung, who had finally sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. “Honey, what happens when your alpha instincts get out of control, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you?”
Wooyoung’s grin was wicked. “We either have a screaming match that ends with you pinning me down and making me beg to fuck you, or I go fuck a knotting sleeve until I see god.” He shrugged. “Depends, really.”
“And what about when I am in the mood to deal with you?”
Wooyoung leered. “Then I spank you until you cry. It’s a very versatile system.”
This wasn’t helping. Yunho felt a migraine coming on. “That’s… great for you two, but it’s not really our dynamic. Mingi’s not a brat and I’m not—”
“He’s not the problem, you idiot,” Hongjoong interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Wooyoung, stop being a distraction for two seconds and think.”
Wooyoung pouted but leaned forward. “Okay. Rut. Alpha. Wants to mate. Omega. Wants to be mated. Body is not cooperating… that’s not a psychological block, I think. That’s biological.” He looked at Mingi. “Has it… I mean, has your heat…?” he trailed off, looking uncharacteristically shy.
The question hung in the air. Wooyoung and Hongjoong stared at them.
Yunho’s brain stalled. Heat. Of course. A heat primed an omega’s body for mating. It produced slick, and made the walls of the entrance pliant. It made the body need to be bred. He’d been so focused on his own rut that he completely overlooked the other half of the equation. All this time, there’d been a missing piece to the puzzle, and a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. This was it.
He turned to Mingi, a slow realization dawning on his face. Mingi was staring at his hands, his face painted on with a profound blush.
“Mingi?” Yunho asked, his voice gentle. “Love?”
Mingi shook his head, not looking at him. “I…” he swallowed hard. “I haven’t had… heats…”
The words were so quiet Yunho almost missed them. Hongjoong and Wooyoung exchanged a wide-eyed look.
“What do you mean you don’t get heats?” Wooyoung asked, confusion on his face. “You’re an omega.”
“I am,” Mingi whispered, finally looking up. The sheer vulnerability in his eyes made Yunho’s heart ache. “I’m just… I’m embarrassed, okay? Everyone talks about their heats, like they’re this amazing, life-changing thing, and I just… never have. I thought maybe I was broken. So I never said anything.”
“Baby,” Yunho breathed, reaching out to tilt Mingi’s chin up, forcing him to make eye contact. “You’re not broken. You’re perfect. You can tell me anything. We don’t have to hide things from each other because we’re scared.”
Mingi’s eyes welled with tears. “I know. I’m sorry, I just—I wanted to be normal for you.”
“Being with you is my normal,” Yunho said, leaning in to kiss him. “The sex, all of it… that’s just extra. You’re what I want. Nothing about you will ever change that.”
A single tear escaped and traced a path down Mingi’s cheek. Yunho kissed it away. “Come here.” He pulled Mingi into a tight embrace, holding him until the tremors in his body subsided.
“As much as we love you, I don’t think we want to see you fucking just yet. Go back to your apartment, you two.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway.
When they got back to their apartment, they lay on their bed for a long time, just holding each other. The unspoken fear and shame slowly dissipated, replaced by a new understanding.
“Hey,” Mingi started, his voice muffled against Yunho’s chest. “So… what now? Do you think… Do you think it will start? Since we… I don’t know… isn’t that what happens now?”
“I don’t know,’ Yunho answered honestly. “But we’ll find out together. We’re not trying to solve a problem anymore. We’re just… waiting.”
Waiting, it turned out, didn’t take long.
That night, as they lay curled together, a faint new scent began to permeate the air. It was still blueberries, but richer with an undercurrent of something warm and musky that made Yunho’s mouth water. His rut, which had been a frustrating hum for days, roared back to life.
Mingi stirred restlessly beside him, a soft whimper escaping his lips. He was burning up. His skin was flushed, damp with a sweat that smelled deliciously of slick. Yunho pulled back the covers to see that Mingi was leaking, a wet patch spreading at the back of his boxers.
“Yunho,” Mingi breathed, his eyes fluttering open. They were hazy, unfocused, and blown wide with primal need. “I feel weird.”
“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” Yunho murmured, his own alpha instincts surging. A single-minded desire to protect and provide and mate overwhelmed him. He helped Mingi out of his soaked clothes, and as he did, he noticed something else. Mingi’s chest, while they were always meaty thanks to his working out, seemed… fuller. His nipples were beaded with a thin, milky-white fluid.
Mingi was lactating.
Yunho’s mind went blank for a second. Of course, some feral part of his brain supplied. For the pups.
“Yunho, please,” Mingi whined, arching his back. His hands flew to his own chest, cupping the swell, a look of confused desperation on his face. “They ache.”
That was all the invitation Yunho needed. He lowered his head, taking one of the sensitive, leaking buds into his mouth. The taste was sweet and creamy and intoxicating. Mingi cried out, his back bowing off the bed, a fresh wave of slick gushing from him.
In a matter of minutes, Mingi was a creature of pure need. He writhed and begged, and Yunho was only too happy to oblige. He moved down Mingi’s trembling body, his tongue tracing a path through the mess on Mingi’s chest, past his heaving stomach, until he reached the source of Mingi’s slick. He didn’t hesitate, burying his face between Mingi’s thighs, his tongue delving into his slick.
The taste was incredible—sweet and salty that made him hungrier. Yunho licked and sucked, making Mingi sob with pleasure. His hands fisted Yunho’s hair, holding him in place as he practically rode his face.
But the emptiness, the need, was still there. “Yunho,” he gasped, tugging him up. “I need more. Please, let me…”
He didn’t have to finish. Yunho shifted up the bed, and Mingi scrambled to get between his legs. He took Yunho’s cock in his hand, looking at it with awe and desire before leaning in to take him into his mouth. This blowjob was nothing like last night. This was a work of desperate art. Mingi’s head bobbed, his tongue swirling, taking Yunho deep until he choked, then pulling back to lavish attention on the head.
Yunho watched, mesmerized, as Mingi shifted. He pushed his flushed pecs together, enveloping Yunho’s cock in the soft, warm heat. It was messy, unconventional, and impossibly hot. Mingi dragged his chest up and down Yunho’s length, the milky fluid from his nipples providing a perfect, slippery glide. He bent his head to lick at the tip on every upstroke.
“Yunho,” Mingi whined. “Your fingers, please, fill me up—”
Yunho obliged, slicking his fingers and pressing three, then four, into Mingi’s body. As Yunho fucked him with his fingers, Mingi arched and writhed, throwing one arm over his head to grip the headboard. The gesture stretched his torso, revealing the damp, hairless hollow of his armpit.
A dark, primal impulse, something that Yunho didn’t even know he possessed, seized him. He withdrew his fingers, ignoring Mingi’s cry of protest, and shuffled up the bed. He gripped his own cock and guided it into the warm space.
He fucked Mingi’s armpit.
The slide was easy. Mingi watched with dazed eyes as Yunho used his body, thrusting into the unconventional heat. The sheer depravity of it drove Mingi insane. The head of Yunho’s cock bumped against Mingi’s chest with every thrust, and he could only stick his tongue out and lick kitty stripes whenever it reached his mouth.
Yunho pulled back a few seconds after, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He knew, with a certainty that settled in his bones, that this was the moment. He looked down at Mingi, flushed and debauched just for him.
He lined himself up and pushed himself into Mingi’s hole. There was no pain. No resistance.
There was only a yielding welcome for him. Yunho slid home in one smooth, deep stroke, buried to the hilt. Mingi cried out, a sound of pure bliss, as the aching emptiness was finally filled.
“Oh god,” Yunho groaned, his arms trembling as he held himself over Mingi. “You’re perfect. You feel so perfect.”
He started to move. Slowly at first, the deep strokes hit every sensitive nerve ending inside Mingi. The heat had transformed him from the inside out, making him a perfect sleeve for Yunho’s cock. They moved together, a rhythm as old as time, as their bodies were completely in sync.
Yunho set a punishing pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin, of their shared moans and desperate cries filling the room. He rolled them over, pulling Mingi on top of him. Mingi rode him with abandon, bracing his hands on Yunho’s chest as he slammed his hips down, taking him deeper and deeper. His breasts bounced with the movement, and Yunho reached up to thumb at the leaking nipples, eliciting a sob of pleasure.
Yunho’s vision narrowed to the sight of Mingi with his head thrown back, lost in pleasure, using his body to chase his own release. He flipped them again, maneuvering Mingi onto his hands and knees. He entered him from behind, the new angle allowing him to go impossible deeper. He gripped Mingi’s hips, pulling him back to meet every powerful thrust, the sounds of the coupling obscene and perfect.
“Yunho, please. I can’t—” Mingi’s words dissolved as Yunho wrapped one arm around his chest, pulling him upright until Mingi’s back was against Yunho’s check. He then locked both arms under Mingi’s knees, lifting him, spreading him wide open in a full nelson.
Mingi was completely at his mercy, suspended and impaled on Yunho’s cock, unable to do anything but take it. Yunho held him tight and drove into him, brushing by his prostate with blinding accuracy.
“That’s it, baby,” Yunho growled in his ear, his voice a low rumble. “Take it. Take all of me.”
He shifted, a new idea sparking in the chaos of his rut-fueled mind. He let Mingi’s legs down from the full nelson, the omega collapsing onto the bed with a whimper. But Yunho wasn’t done. He grabbed one of Mingi’s ankles and guided it to rest on his shoulder while the other leg lay flat against the mattress. The position splayed Mingi open, leaving him beautifully exposed.
Yunho pushed back in, the angle devastatingly deep. He held Mingi’s gaze, his own eyes wild with a feral light.
“Look at you,” Yunho panted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust. “Made to take my knot. Your body knows it, even if you didn’t.” The thought of Mingi’s dormant heat sent a possessive jolt through him.
The breeding talk, once a hesitant thought, now spilled out of him unchecked, a torrent of alpha instinct. “Gonna fill you up, Mingi. Gonna pump you so full you’ll be dripping with me for a week. Get you round and swollen with my pups. Everyone will see. They’ll smell me on you, know you’re mine, that I bred you good and proper.”
The words lit a fire in Mingi. He met Yunho’s gaze, his own heat-fogged brain latching onto the promises. “Yes, alpha, please—breed me… I want your pups—I want your knot locking me in place. I want to feel your cum filling me up—filling me up until I can’t take it anymore. Make me yours, please, Yunho—please breed me—”
It was the filthiest, most perfect thing Yunho had ever heard. He let go of MIngi’s leg, falling forward, folding Mingi nearly in half. He hooked his arms under Mingi’s legs, pressing them down toward the mattress beside Mingi’s head.
In their new position, Yunho was as deep as he could be. All eight inches of his cock was now inside of Mingi. The head of his cock kissed the mouth of Mingi’s cervix with every powerful thrust. The bedframe groaned in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall in a frantic rhythm. All that existed was the tight heat gripping him, the sight of Mingi’s face lost to pleasure, and the relentless urge to fulfill the words they’d just spoken.
“Gonna do it,” Yunho grunted, his rhythm becoming desperate. “Gonna knot you. Gonna breed you. Take it—take it Mingi—”
With a final thrust, he drove in as deep as he could go. The base of his cock swelled, the flared knot expanding rapidly, stretching Mingi to his limit. There was a brief, sharp pinch of pain, but Mingi’s body took it. The knot popped past the ring of muscle, seating itself firmly inside. They were locked.
The sensation sent them both over the edge. Yunho cried out as he came. His release was endless, pulse after pulse of hot seed pumping directly into Mingi’s waiting body. The feeling of being so utterly filled, of the knot pressing insistently against that spot deep inside him while Yunho emptied himself, triggered Mingi’s own orgasm. It was a full-body convulsion of pleasure that left him sobbing Yunho’s name.
Yunho collapsed, his weight pinning Mingi to the mattress, but he was careful to keep his hips stationary. The knot tied them together in an unbreakable bond. The frantic energy of the rut and heat began to subside, replaced by a deep level of contentment.
Yunho nuzzled into the crook of Mingi’s neck, licking lazily at his scent gland. He could feel Mingi’s erratic heartbeat against his chest, gradually slowing to match his own. They were a tangle of limbs and a mess of cum and slick. The ache was finally gone. The emptiness was filled. They had, in every sense of the word, made it.
They were like that for a while. Yunho’s knot was tenacious. After the initial wave of bliss subsided, they found themselves in a bizarre sort of limbo. They were sated and exhausted.
“Is it always going to be like this?” Mingi mumbled, his face mashed into the pillow. “I think my spine has compacted into a solid disc.”
Mingi took a shuddering breath, shifting slightly. The movement sent a fresh jolt of pleasure through them both as Yunho’s knot rubbed against his sensitive walls.
As their breathing evened out, a comfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the hum of the city outside. Yunho felt a profound sense of rightness settle over him. This was home—his home was Mingi who was locked around him.
“My heat really works,” Mingi mumbled into his chest, his voice thick with sleep and satisfaction.
Yunho huffed a laugh, pressing a soft kiss into Mingi’s damp hair. “I’d say that’s an understatement. You work perfectly.”
He thought about the past few days—the frustrations and failures. The image of Mingi blushing furiously as he admitted to never having a heat, the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face as Yunho finally slid inside him. It all felt like a lifetime ago.
“Hey,” Yunho said softly. “You know what I was thinking about earlier?”
“Hm?” Mingi hummed, nuzzling closer.
“When we were… you know. Trying. I kept thinking something was missing. I couldn’t figure it out.” He tightened his arm around Mingi’s shoulder. “It was you. My rut was waiting for you. We weren’t two broken pieces, we were just… waiting for our timing to line up.”
Mingi shifted, lifting his head to look at Yunho, his eyes soft in the dim light. “You sound like those AI chatbots.” he chuckled. “But you’re not just saying that?”
Yunho shook his head, smiling and cupping Mingi’s cheek. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. We needed this. All of it. The awkward dildo shopping… the failed fingering… the vacuum incident.” He grinned as Mingi groaned and hid his face again. “All of it led to this here. To us.”
He leaned in, capturing Mingi’s lips in a slow kiss that was less about lust and more about reassurance. When he pulled back, Mingi was smiling, a genuine, happy smile that reached his eyes.
Just then, Yunho felt a distinct shift. The pressure lessened and the knot finally began to recede. With a final squelch, he slipped free of Mingi’s body. A gush of warm fluid followed, coating the sheets in a messy testament to their activities.
Mingi winced. “Well, that’s gonna need a shower.”
“And a new mattress,” Yunho added, wrinkling his nose at the sheer volume of slick and cum they’d produced. “Maybe a hazmat team.”
The two of them looked at each other then, and Yunho couldn’t help but smile and laugh.
“I love you,” he whispered to Mingi, the words barely audible.
“I love you more, silly,” Mingi laughed, a breathy and utterly wrecked sound.
“I feel like… some sort of deja vu just happened to us.” Yunho narrowed his brows.
“Yeah, me too,” Mingi agreed, kissing Yunho once more.
Back in Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s place, the two of them were on their bed, cuddling with each other.
“You think they fucked already?” Wooyoung asked.
“Are you seriously asking me if other men just fucked?” Hongjoong raised his brow, before pouncing on Wooyoung.
“Help—!”