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It’s not surprising that they’ve fallen into this arrangement.
After the first time—after Kim Dokja had succumbed to his own feelings, after Yoo Joonghyuk had fallen deep into the clutches of his rut, it was natural. Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja’s bodies meshed well—despite Kim Dokja’s designation as a regular old beta—and they’d naturally had sex as a result. In the morning, when Kim Dokja had sobered up with the glint of the morning sun hitting his eyes, seeing the marks plastered all over his body, he’d run away, hiding from the rest of the world.
It’s only a week later that he decided to reach out to Yoo Joonghyuk again. It wasn’t intentional. It was a brief meeting when Kim Dokja’s gaze locked onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s, when his presence was acknowledged with only a nod. In a place Kim Dokja hadn’t expected to see Yoo Joonghyuk at, Kim Dokja found himself glued to the ground, his eyes blinking once, twice, and thrice, before accepting reality.
When they’d met again, when he’d forced himself to walk closer, unable to avoid that searing gaze for any longer, Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t chosen to say anything about it. Kim Dokja wouldn’t pry.
It wasn’t Kim Dokja’s place to bring up a mistake like that. Something as frivolous as their encounter that one night needed not to be acknowledged again.
Knowing Yoo Joonghyuk, it was an embarrassment. A mistake. Something that was one-off, one made without his faculties in check.
If Yoo Joonghyuk wished to talk about it—to bring something as shameful as that mistake up, it would be Kim Dokja’s fault to bear. Kim Dokja had accepted such a fact.
And though he’d seen right through Kim Dokja’s feelings, Yoo Joonghyuk chose to remain silent for that day. And the next. And the day after. Even when they’d met up, to study, to work on the project they had together, Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t brought such a thing up, had kept so quiet Kim Dokja was able to pretend it didn’t happen.
And so, their relationship, something between friends and acquaintances, remained strong. As strong as it was before, as meaningless to Yoo Joonghyuk as with any other relationship he had with people around him.
Kim Dokja would mean nothing to Yoo Joonghyuk, and that was okay. It was okay that they’d only known each other in name, that they’d see each other in passing. As long as Kim Dokja could keep this facade up, his feelings hidden, it would be alright.
He’d lived with his wants hidden from the world since he’d first seen the light of day. His feelings burrowing, a malignant seed taking root in him, wouldn’t change anything about how he was living before. If he could keep it from affecting him personally, it would be as though his feelings didn’t exist.
So, he chose to stew in those feelings. If he pretended hard enough, that night was nothing more than a dream—pleasant and simple—their bodies clashing, fucking, animalistic desire. A dream. That was all it was to him, and to Yoo Joonghyuk as well.
And yet, somehow, again. Perhaps it was a bad stroke of luck. Perhaps the universe had it out for him. Again, their bodies met each other, wet flesh upon flesh, obscene noises Kim Dokja would be embarrassed to release in any other situation escaping his lips, again and again and again until his throat grew hoarse. With no thought for the repercussions, Kim Dokja’s feelings burgeoned, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s body grew close, inside, his knot expanding within Kim Dokja’s sensitive walls, keeping him tight within Kim Dokja.
Like he’d actually wanted Kim Dokja, like he’d actually shared the same wretched feelings that plagued Kim Dokja’s days and nights, he kept Kim Dokja tight within his arms, wrapped around his chest, pressing against the veritable swell of his stomach, keeping Kim Dokja beside him. With those sweet nothings whispered into Kim Dokja’s ears, their sweaty skin in contact, his breathing, heartbeat, thumping a different rhythm along Kim Dokja’s own—if Kim Dokja deluded himself enough, he could pretend they were really in love.
But such a thing would never become a reality, and Kim Dokja knew it as such as soon as he’d woken up.
Another mistake, another regret. Kim Dokja resolved to escape quietly as he’d done last time then, but Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t let him. He’d grasped Kim Dokja’s wrist and given him an ultimatum.
“This,” Yoo Joonghyuk had said. Those fingers dug into his skin, keeping him from moving even an inch. A sharp breath preceded his words as Yoo Joonghyuk clearly contemplated on what he’d say next. After swallowing, after giving Kim Dokja a look that he could only describe as pathetic, Yoo Joonghyuk said, “Let’s continue this, Kim Dokja. Don’t leave.”
Something about Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression that day had caused Kim Dokja to stare blankly at him, before ultimately accepting. He’d nodded along before he even knew that he’d done so, agreeing to something that would ultimately bring him to ruin. It didn’t matter to him then, and it didn’t matter to him afterwards, until night came, when he struggled to fall asleep, wondering what it had all meant.
Something inside of him hoped that this meant something more, but Kim Dokja had enough of pretending that his feelings would ever be requited. Still, if an arrangement like this meant that he could keep the terrible, caustic feelings under wraps, that was enough of a deal for him.
And so, again, they’d fallen into bed once more, skin hot against each other, touch bringing a vile crimson upon Kim Dokja’s body.
Yoo Joonghuk nips by his nape, bruising red blossoming underneath his touch. His teeth dig deep into his nape, in search of a scent gland, in search of an actual bond. It’s something that wouldn’t manifest in Kim Dokja no matter how hard Yoo Joonghyuk tried to bite into him.
He shifts, and a movement as small as that is enough to send Kim Dokja reeling. His limbs grow slack, his arms clutching weakly against Yoo Joonghyuk’s bare back. They don’t do anything, his limbs more useless than twigs as the pleasure rocks through him, slowly with the movement of Yoo Joonghyuk’s hips.
It’s good, it’s good—it’s almost enough to make him forget about these treacherous feelings. But nothing would be enough to override the constant torrent of pain that pangs at his heart, his breathing stuttering in the face of Yoo Joonghyuk’s visage.
“Fuck,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunts against the crook of his neck. “Tight. You don’t ever loosen up, do you?”
“Don’t… say something like that.” Kim Dokja flushes, biting down onto his lips to prevent a moan from escaping.
All that he hears is filth, and not what he truly seeks—words of affection, of love. But it’s as close to it as he could get.
Yoo Joonghyuk jerks forth again, his cock sheathing fully into Kim Dokja, an unavoidable fullness spreading throughout the entirety of his body. His teeth grip the flesh around the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck, marking, marking, marking.
Pain erupts. Kim Dokja swallows it down.
Yoo Joonghyuk has always had this habit since they’ve started. He’s bitten Kim Dokja’s neck purple and red, teeth marks permanently imprinted into his pale skin. He’s lapped at his wounds, whispered apologies while continuing to bite, bite, bite. Despite not being an omega, Yoo Joonghyuk has done this before, and will keep doing it, an urge ingrained into him by biology.
A sour taste coats Kim Dokja’s tongue, his throat tightening as his actions continue.
Was he so desperate for an omega that he settled for something like him? A beta, whose features were lanky, bony and thin in all the wrong places, unattractive to even the betas around him?
It’s convenience, Kim Dokja concludes. It has to be. Yoo Joonghyuk seeks him out for convenience and convenience only. And Kim Dokja and his terrible feelings force him to seek out this convenient arrangement as well.
It’s something that will eat at him, this relationship, it’ll erode his sense of self, his being the more he spends time doing this. It’ll kill him, wither him like a flower deprived of sunlight, a bird trapped in a cage.
Yet still, he finds himself coming under Yoo Joonghyuk’s touch, his cock’s girth spreading throughout him, making Kim Dokja incapable of thinking or breathing or even escaping. His belly tightens, his mind blanking, his body reeling as he comes with a shout, his cock splattering filth across his own body, across Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest.
Yoo Joonghyuk grunts as the shockwaves course through Kim Dokja’s body. Even still, even when his heart screams for something more, there’s no respite to be found in a relationship like this.