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Minho woke up feeling like he hadn’t slept at all.
The heavy weight in his limbs made it a battle just to push the blankets off. His head throbbed with a dull, familiar ache, one that had been haunting him for days now—weeks, maybe. He blinked at the faint morning light slipping through the curtains and immediately turned away from it with a wince. Too bright. Too much.
His stomach churned again.
He barely made it to the bathroom in time.
After rinsing his mouth and splashing cold water on his face, Minho stared at his own reflection in the mirror. Pale, exhausted eyes looked back at him. His cheeks were a little hollow, dark circles growing under them like bruises. He let out a breath through his nose, but it stuttered halfway. His throat tightened suddenly, tears threatening to spill over for no reason at all.
He wasn’t pregnant. He knew that. The nausea wasn’t from that.
And yet here he was again, day after day, waking up sick, irritable, too tired to function, and too emotional to control it.
He gripped the edge of the sink. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself. “You’re not even in pre-heat yet.”
But his body didn’t seem to care about the schedule. It had felt like he was stuck in pre-heat for months. His glands pulsed with a low, nagging ache. His muscles ached too—like he’d run a marathon in his sleep.
He’d hoped it would pass. That maybe he was just stressed. Overworked. Undermated. But now, he couldn’t keep pretending. Not when even his cats were starting to look at him with worry in their eyes every morning.
He dragged himself back to the kitchen, cradling a cup of tea like it could fix him. The sound of their tiny paws behind him gave him a little comfort as Dori curled by his feet.
lix 🐥:
Hyung, are you still coming to lunch today?
Please say yes, you need real food and sunlight
Minho stared at the screen for a moment, then typed back with sluggish fingers.
You:
maybe. feeling off again. can i come later?
A reply came quickly.
lix 🐥:
I’ll come get you
Wear something soft
You look like a ghost lately and I’m worried
Also, I miss you
Minho let out a quiet laugh through his nose. A weak one. But real.
Still clutching his tea, he curled up on the couch in his hoodie. The ache in his body wasn’t going anywhere. But at least Yongbok would drag him into the sun again. Maybe that would help.
He didn’t know what was going on with him.
But if it kept getting worse…
He pushed the thought aside and closed his eyes. Just for a second.
***
Dr. Choi’s office was quiet.
The soft ticking of the analog clock filled the silence between her questions, steady and deliberate. Minho sat across from her, his gaze lowered, shoulders drawn in tight—as if just sitting upright was an effort. He looked like someone trying not to fall apart.
“You mentioned joint pain?” she asked gently, her eyes still fixed on the digital chart.
“Yes,” he said, voice hoarse. “And a low fever… mostly at night. I’m always tired lately. And my scent—it smells different now. Like… it’s kind of bitter.”
She nodded subtly, typing a few notes. She didn’t rush to fill the silence. The quiet had been present since the beginning of the appointment, and she seemed to respect it.
“When was the last time you went through heat with an alpha?”
Minho stiffened.
Of course she would ask.
“Almost three years ago,” he replied after a pause.
Dr. Choi didn’t flinch. Her face remained calm—no judgment, no surprise. Just quiet understanding, the kind that made him feel both seen and vulnerable at once.
“I’m going to order a full hormone panel,” she said, her tone even. “An abdominal ultrasound. And I’d like to check your adrenaline and cortisol levels. It might sound like a lot, but…”
She finally looked up, meeting his eyes.
“Omegas who go through too many cycles without support—emotional, physical, hormonal—can sometimes develop imbalances. It’s rare, but not unheard of.”
Minho swallowed hard, his fingers curling slightly in his lap.
“It’s possible your body is starting to push back against the lack of stimulation,” she continued, gently. “I can’t say anything for certain yet. But we need to monitor it closely.”
“…Is it serious?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know yet,” she said honestly. “For now, I’ll start you on a mild hormone regulator and something to help with the joint pain and fatigue during your cycle. But Minho—” She leaned in a bit. “If things get worse, promise me you’ll come back immediately.”
He nodded, silent.
She didn’t push further.
Minho left the clinic with the prescriptions tucked into his bag, and a quiet, unnamed fear lodged in his chest—something cold and heavy that didn’t budge, no matter how deeply he breathed.
***
His heat came without warning.
No gradual build-up. No time to brace himself. Just a slow, creeping fever at first—barely noticeable, like the ghost of a headache or a chill behind the eyes. Then it surged. Sudden. Violent. Burning from the inside out, like his own body had been set on fire.
By the second night, Minho woke drenched in sweat. His muscles were drawn tight with pain, his sheets twisted and damp, the air around him thick with his own scent.
But it wasn’t a scent he recognized.
There was no trace of the familiar sweetness—no warm hints of vanilla and strawberry, the comforting notes that used to cling to his skin when things were still normal. When he still felt like himself.
That scent was gone.
In its place was something foreign. Sharp. Sour. Bitter in a way that made him nauseous. It didn’t invite touch—it repelled it. It smelled like rejection. Like something spoiled. His clothes clung to him like wet paper, his skin too hot to bear. Every breath felt heavy, sticky, wrong.
The hormone regulator hadn’t worked.
Neither had the painkillers.
And the pain—God, the pain didn’t even make sense. It wasn’t like the usual rhythmic waves that came and went, the ones he could anticipate and ride through. This was constant. Brutal. A violent, choking grip that started somewhere deep in his core and spread through every inch of him. His body wasn’t cycling—it was breaking.
Minho tried to hold on. He really did.
But the pain kept climbing, relentless and merciless. Every nerve screamed. His back arched off the bed, legs trembling uncontrollably. His heart pounded so violently against his ribs, he genuinely wondered if it was giving out. A part of him hoped it wasn’t.
Another part… kind of hoped it was.
Because if this was what it meant to survive—what was the point?
He cried. From the pain, yes. But more from the loneliness. From the quiet, bitter realization that no one was coming. That this was it. This was how he’d chosen to live—pretending he didn’t need anyone, until his own body decided to get even.
He reached out, once—toward the edge of the bed. Maybe for his phone. Maybe just for something solid to hold onto. But his fingers curled weakly before they could touch anything. His strength was gone. His will, unraveling. His body, folding in on itself.
Everything inside him was falling apart.
Maybe this is it, he thought, strangely calm.
Maybe this is the end.
Eventually, the pain blurred. The light dimmed. And then—nothing.
***
He came back to himself two days later.
Soft, gray light slipped through the blinds—it was late afternoon. The worst of the scent had faded, but the room still carried the ghost of what had happened. The sheets were twisted, damp with sweat. Towels lay crumpled on the floor like discarded attempts at care.
And there, sitting in a wooden chair beside his bed, was Yongbok.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered, his eyes red and swollen. “I came to check on y-you, since you weren’t answering your phone... and when I got here, you weren’t even awake.”
He swallowed hard, voice cracking.
“I called your name, over and over, but you... you didn’t move. You didn’t even flinch. Jesus, hyung.”
Minho tried to speak, but his throat burned too badly. Not even a whisper came out.
Yongbok leaned in, voice shaking. “This isn’t normal. No heat should leave you like this. You’re—God, you’re so pale.”
Minho could only lie there, hearing the words but feeling miles away from them. He wasn’t really present. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t even muster the strength to nod.
“I’m calling Chan,” Yongbok said, already reaching for his phone. “We need to get you to a hospital. Now.”
***
Minho could barely sit upright in the chair.
Every inch of him ached—from the deep, bone-deep pulses of pain to the strange, hollow exhaustion that lingered even after hours of sleep. His limbs felt disconnected, heavy like they didn’t quite belong to him anymore. He sat slouched, head low, eyelids fluttering from the remnants of the medication they’d given him to stabilize his vitals. The hospital gown scratched faintly at his skin.
Yongbok sat beside him, quiet, holding Minho’s hand like it was priceless. He hadn’t left since the moment Minho was rushed in—found collapsed in his apartment, unresponsive, his scent bitter and laced with pain. Yongbok had waited at the emergency room all day, pacing, then sleeping upright in a plastic chair while Minho was sedated and monitored.
When Dr. Choi entered, she held a thin stack of papers in her hands. Her expression said more than any diagnosis could. It wasn’t pity—not exactly. It was something sharper. A kind of quiet, practiced grief. The kind she reserved for bad news she had to deliver more often than she liked.
“The test results are back,” she said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from them. Her voice was calm, but not cold. She looked between the two of them, and then focused on Minho. “Minho… unfortunately, I don’t have good news. You’ve been diagnosed with a condition called Omega Endocrine Rejection Syndrome. OERS.”
Minho didn’t react right away. His brain was still catching up, swimming through the lingering fog of painkillers and IV fluids. But Yongbok stiffened beside him, clutching the water bottle a little tighter.
“W-What is that?” Yongbok asked, voice tight.
Dr. Choi folded her hands over the papers. “It’s a rare form of systemic hormonal collapse. When an omega goes through too many heats without any pheromonal regulation—especially without alpha contact—the body begins to misfire. It starts treating its own cycles as a threat. The endocrine system turns on itself. And eventually, it breaks down.”
Minho’s brow furrowed. A hollow feeling bloomed in his chest.
“You mean…” His voice cracked. “I can’t go through heat alone anymore?”
“No.” Her tone was steady, firm. “The next cycle could be fatal. You’re lucky to be sitting here right now. According to your labs, your body was in full distress. We’re talking about the early stages of organ dysfunction—your cortisol and adrenaline levels were dangerously high. You were lucky your friend found you when they did.”
Yongbok let out a strangled sound—something between a gasp and a growl—but stayed silent, jaw tight.
“What now?” he asked instead. “What do we do?”
Dr. Choi looked back to Minho, her expression softening.
“We’ll continue with the hormone therapy for now. That’ll help your system regulate while we prepare a longer-term solution. But the truth is… you need an alpha. Preferably someone compatible—someone whose presence can calm your scent responses and realign your cycle. But in a crisis, even temporary contact from any alpha could help stave off a full shutdown.”
Minho’s hands trembled in his lap. He looked down and realized his nails were digging crescents into his palms.
This is my fault, he thought. I did this to myself.
He didn’t want to be saved. He didn’t want to be this version of himself—fragile, dependent, broken.
But maybe being strong wasn’t something he could keep doing alone. Not anymore.
***
It had been Yongbok’s idea.
KNOTME — The #1 Platform for Pheromonal Connections!
“Absolutely not,” Minho had said flatly, head buried under a blanket.
Yongbok ignored him and kept typing.
@soondoondori’s user profile
Name: Lee Minho
Gender: Male Omega
Age: 26
About me: I like silence and my cats.
Dislikes: Knotheads, dog breath, bugs, salt chicken, stupid questions, crowded places, loud chewing. There's not enough characters to describe it all but I definitely could keep going.
Yongbok leaned back, then turned the phone to him, satisfied. “There. Honest. Classy. You're a catch. I give five minutes for you to have an alpha hanging off your neck.”
Minho groaned. “Just say you hate me.”
“You know we need to do this. I really don’t want you to spend your next heat with just any alpha who is willing to get his dick wet. That’s why we need to start searching for the perfect knot for you right now. In all places. We’re that desperate, babe.”
Minho just sighed, accepting anything the younger was telling him, knowing that Yongbok’s heart was in the right place, even if his methods were a bit overwhelming.
***
It took about two weeks for Minho to feel somewhat like himself again.
He was at Yongbok’s place, fully focused on finishing his tteokbokki while the blonde was draped all over his mate like a possessive cat.
“How’s KnotMe going? Any luck?” Yongbok asked, suddenly.
Chan looked up, confused. “KnotMe? What the hell is that?”
“It’s a cycle partner matching app.” Yongbok replied.
Minho didn’t even bother looking up. “Your absolutely insane omega signed me up for it,” he said flatly, stabbing a rice cake with his chopsticks. “He thinks I’ll just magically find an alpha willing to hold my hand through my next heat like it’s a goddamn fairytale. On an app.”
“Well... you totally could,” Yongbok insisted, undeterred. “Have you matched with anyone decent yet?”
“I... ugh. This is embarrassing.” Minho set his chopsticks down. “I tried talking to a few guys, but they were all really gross. Like—immediately asking if I like being tied up or if I howl when I come. So yeah, I ghosted them all. KnotMe is officially uninstalled.”
“What? You can’t!” Yongbok sat bolt upright, dislodging Chan a little. “You heard what the doctor said! You could literally die if you don’t find an alpha to help you through it!”
He paused mid-rant, eyes narrowing like a predator catching scent of something devious.
“You know what?” he said slowly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “If you don’t get back on that damn app, I’ll make you spend your next heat with Chan. You hear me?”
Minho and Chan both turned to stare at him in perfect, synchronized horror. Then they turned to each other, wide-eyed.
“What?!” Chan blurted. “Babe, how could you even suggest—”
“I don’t want Minho-hyung to die!” Yongbok cried, throwing his hands up. “If he can’t find himself an alpha in time, you are absolutely popping that knot in—”
“OKAY! Fine!” Minho cut in, nearly choking on his water. “I’ll get back on the app. No need to open up your relationship because of me, thank you very much.”
“Actually… I might know an alpha who could help Minho,” Chan started.
Yongbok suddenly got excited. “What? For real? Show me a pic!”
Minho stopped paying attention, reluctantly reinstalling the cursed app. Chan and Yongbok were still talking, but Minho got distracted by a new notification:
Bigfatknot02567:
Hi, pretty
When is your heat coming?
Minho groaned and rolled his eyes. Still, after a beat, he hesitated.
Ridiculous username aside, this was the first alpha who hadn’t started the chat with something downright creepy. He was blunt, sure, but not immediately disgusting.
Maybe… maybe he could give it a shot.
Soondoondori:
hello
i just went through it. shouldn’t come for another two months
would it be in sync with your rut?
A moment passed.
Bigfatknot02567 blocked you.
“What the fuck?” Minho sprang to his feet, phone still in hand. Both Chan and Yongbok turned toward him.
“This jerk couldn’t even—Argh!” he yelled, face buried into the couch pillow. His muffled scream vibrated through the cushions.
Yongbok was on his feet in an instant, gently rubbing Minho’s back. “Hyung, you have to be patient.”
Minho turned his head just enough to glare at him. “How can I be fucking patient when in two months that hell of a heat is going to come back, and I— I don’t even have a plan—!”
“Minho,” Chan said firmly, reaching out to place a steady hand on his shoulder. “Breathe.”
Minho forced himself to inhale through his nose, then exhaled shakily.
“It won’t be like last time,” Yongbok added gently, kneeling beside him now. “Because I know you’re going to find the right alpha to go through it with you. Okay?”
Minho looked between the two of them, eyes softening just slightly.
He nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah… okay.” He replied, even if he didn’t really believe that.
***
Minho found himself scrolling through profiles with a mix of skepticism and exhaustion. Every alpha seemed more complicated than the last. The dates started rolling in: awkward dinners, forced conversations, and scents that felt all wrong. Some were pushy, others distant, and a few just plain weird. None of them made Minho feel anything close to comfort or hope.
Yet he kept trying—because the alternative, going through heat alone again, was unthinkable.
So here he was, caught somewhere between frustration and hope, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was an alpha out there who he could bear for a few days.
#
Minho showed up at the café early, sipping a black Americano, when his date walked in—leather jacket, sunglasses indoors, and a grin way too wide.
“Hey, kitten,” the alpha purred, sliding into the seat across from him.
Minho blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t be shy. I can already smell how much you liked the petname.”
Minho closed his eyes for two seconds too long and then stood up without finishing his coffee. “I actually need someone to not say that ever again.”
#
This one was tall, good-looking, smelled clean, and seemed normal—until the food arrived.
“You’re eating carbs?” he asked, looking personally offended. “You know omegas retain water like crazy, right?”
Minho stabbed his rice.
The rest of the date was a protein-shake-fueled rant about macros, lifting schedules, and how “most omegas these days don’t take care of themselves.” Minho left halfway through dessert, texting Yongbok: “I want to throw a dumbbell at him.”
#
The date started well—nice bistro, pleasant conversation, decent scent. But twenty minutes in:
“My ex used to sit exactly like that.”
Minho looked up from his soup.
“God, it’s so weird. You even frown like him. He was a Capricorn, too. You’re not a Capricorn, are you?”
“I’m a Scorpio,” Minho replied slowly.
The alpha’s face paled. “Oh. That explains the emotional walls. My therapist said I attract Scorpios when I’m not grounded.”
Minho muttered something about the bathroom and left. He didn’t come back.
#
This one sniffed the air as soon as Minho walked in. Sniffed. Audibly.
“Hmm. That’s your scent?” he asked.
Minho blinked. “Yeah, it usually follows me around. Like everyone else’s scent does.”
“It’s... a bit bitter. Must be stress-related. I usually go for sweeter types—floral, maybe citrusy. Something high-quality, you know?”
Minho gave him a long, deadpan stare.
“You do realize I’m still sitting here, right?”
#
Minho wanted to like this one. Really. He was soft-spoken, well-dressed, had a gentle, woody scent. But halfway into the date, the alpha handed him a handwritten poem. About their “undeniable connection.”
“...We met like moonlight in midwinter,” Minho read aloud, blinking. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”
The alpha blushed. “I just feel like... I’ve known you forever.”
Minho smiled politely, texted Yongbok under the table, and made up an excuse involving a neighbor’s emergency surgery.
***
Minho curled up on the couch with a blanket, a cat on his lap, and his phone on Do Not Disturb. His scent was still off, bitter around the edges, his body achy and exhausted—but emotionally?
He was just tired.
“Done,” he whispered, tossing the KnotMe app into a digital graveyard of apps he’d never open again. “If I have to smell one more fake sandalwood pheromone bomb, I’ll burn down a candle store.”
Yongbok didn’t even argue when Minho told him. Just handed him a hot drink and sat with him.
—
Five weeks until the next heat.
It was late afternoon, and the city was starting to slow down. Streetlights flickered on one by one, and the noise from the day softened. People moved a little slower, quieter.
Minho and Yongbok stood in line at their usual café, a small place wedged between a used bookstore and a noisy bus stop. The café was cozy—wooden tables near fogged windows, warm light spilling onto the sidewalk.
“I think your heat’s getting close,” Yongbok said, wrinkling his nose.
“Please don’t remind me,” Minho muttered, tired.
The line moved forward. Minho stepped closer to the counter—and froze.
There was a scent. Not sharp or overwhelming like most alphas’, but soft, like fresh spring air with a hint of jasmine tea. It didn’t push or demand attention. It just felt... calm.
Minho’s body, usually tense and on edge, relaxed without him realizing it. His shoulders dropped, his breathing evened out, and a warm feeling spread in his chest—like holding a hot cup on a cold day.
Behind the counter stood a young barista, cheeks slightly red, eyes alert but a little nervous. His uniform was a bit crooked, and his soft black hair peeked from under a worn café cap.
“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Before you order, I—I have to warn you we’re out of milk. Is that okay?”
Minho didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
He just stared, blinking slowly, trying to catch up to whatever his body had already figured out.
Yongbok, naturally, stepped in without missing a beat, his grin barely restrained. “That’s fine. We’ll have two espressos,” he said, eyes flicking to the barista. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around before.”
“I started last week,” the barista replied, still a little breathless. “I’m Jisung.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Yongbok, and this one here—” He grabbed Minho by the shoulders and gave him a playful shake. “—is Minho.”
Jisung gave a small, shy smile. His scent lingered—steady, soft, not pushy. Just there.
Minho’s mind was a mess. He couldn’t form a single sentence.
A few minutes later, they stepped outside with their drinks. The city was settling into evening—cars rushing by, people pulling coats tighter, a bus sighing at the curb.
Yongbok nudged Minho’s arm with a smirk. “What? Still thinking about the shy, cute-looking alpha behind the counter?”
Minho stared down at his cup, fingers tracing the ridged cardboard sleeve. The warmth from the drink settled into his hands—steadying, familiar.
“He was… different,” he said quietly.
“Different?” Yongbok echoed, already grinning. “You mean cute? Handsome? Hot—?”
Minho didn’t answer. Just nodded, eyes still on the cup, as if the memory of that brief exchange was something fragile he didn’t want to disturb.
Yongbok laughed softly. “You have to talk to him again.”
Minho didn’t respond.
But as he watched the steam curl from the lid and thought about Jisung’s stammer, the pink flush in his cheeks, something stirred in his chest.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
For the first time in weeks.
***
“I loved hanging out with you,” the alpha said, smiling. “Hope you had a good time too.”
Eh.
Minho couldn’t exactly say he enjoyed spending nearly an hour listening to an alpha drone on about how he dreamed of finding the perfect omega—one who’d submit without giving him a “headache,” because, apparently, “omegas these days just don’t appreciate an alpha who wants to take care of them.”
Still, Minho offered a polite smile.
His next heat was due in a month. At this point, he’d come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have the luxury of being picky. It wasn’t about finding the right alpha anymore—it was about finding the least wrong one. Someone whose knot he could tolerate for a few days, just to get through the cycle safely.
The thought made his stomach twist.
“Hm. Yeah. It was nice,” he said vaguely.
“Would you… want to come back to mine?” the alpha asked, lips tugging into a smirk.
Minho’s eyebrows rose.
Jesus Christ.
This one—Jaehyun—lived in his building. Yongbok had urged him to give the guy a chance after catching Jaehyun checking Minho out in the elevator. And… well, with his options running dry, Minho had reluctantly agreed.
But still. Did the man have to be this direct?
“Ah… not really,” he replied with a small smile, trying to keep it polite.
Jaehyun didn't seem fazed. “Well… we’re close to that café on the corner. Want to at least grab a drink before we call it a night?”
That suggestion was a little better. Honestly, Minho could use some caffeine.
“The café sounds nice,” he agreed.
They walked the short distance in silence, until they stopped in front of the familiar glass door—and Minho realized where they were.
Oh God.
This café.
The one where Jisung—
“Shall we go in?” Jaehyun asked, placing a hand lightly on Minho’s lower back.
Minho flinched inwardly but nodded.
Inside, the place was nearly empty—unsurprising, since it was close to closing time. No one was at the counter. Jaehyun reached over and tapped the service bell.
A voice called out from the back, “Jisung! Can you check the counter? I’m finishing something!”
And then, a moment later, there he was.
Minho was hit by that scent again. Warm. Subtle. Woody, with the same floral hint of jasmine that had lingered in his memory since the first time they met. He blinked, wondering if he was imagining it.
“Hey there. Good evening,” Jisung greeted, still adjusting his apron and not quite looking up yet. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll just have an iced Americano,” Jaehyun said, then glanced at Minho. “And you?”
Right then, Jisung finally looked up—met Minho’s eyes—and smiled slightly.
“Would it be… an espresso?” he asked softly.
Minho’s breath caught, just for a second.
“Ah. You… yeah. An espresso’s fine,” he replied quickly, keeping his tone neutral.
Jaehyun looked between them, clearly noticing something, but handed over his card without commenting.
A few minutes later, they walked back out with drinks in hand. The air was cooler now, the streets quieter.
Jaehyun glanced over. “Did you know the guy at the counter?”
“Not really,” Minho replied, exhaling. “I came here once with a friend. Jisung was new at the time, and we just chatted for a bit. Nothing much. I guess he remembered my order.”
“Huh. That’s… weird. Remembering one order from a random visit?” Jaehyun said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Minho said softly. “Weird.”
But his mind was still caught on that moment. The scent that somehow still clung to him, even though they hadn’t touched. The way Jisung had remembered. The way it all felt—
Like it meant something.
And that made no sense.
***
A few days later, Minho was elbow-deep in cleaning his cat’s litter box when he heard a knock at the door.
He wiped his hands on a towel and opened it.
“Ah. It’s just you,” he said flatly, stepping aside.
“Hello to you too. I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Yongbok replied with a dramatic sigh as he let himself in.
Minho grunted in response, already heading toward the sink to wash up.
“So?” Yongbok called from the living room. “How’d it go with Jaehyun?”
Minho let out a tired breath. “He’s a jerk. But… if I don’t find anyone else before my heat, I guess he’d do. I mean, he already tried to take me back to his apartment, so I’m pretty sure he’d be down.”
He dried his hands and leaned on the counter, clearly not thrilled about the whole situation.
“Ah, hyung. I’m sorry,” Yongbok said, genuinely sympathetic. Then, hesitating for only a second, he added, “Well… have you been back to the café? Maybe tried talking to Jisung? You did seem to like him…”
“I don’t like him,” Minho corrected quickly. “I don’t even know him. But…”
“But?” Yongbok wiggled his eyebrows.
Minho rolled his eyes and walked toward his bedroom. “When I hung out with Jaehyun, he took me to that same café. Jisung was working.”
Yongbok immediately perked up and followed him, practically bouncing. “Really? Did you talk to him?”
Minho flopped onto his bed with a groan. “Lix, what exactly do you want me to say? Should I just show up and be like, ‘Hey, I noticed you're an alpha. Turns out I'm a problematic omega who might literally pass out if I don't find someone willing to shove his knot inside my hole for a few days while I ride out my heat. Would you be interested?’”
Yongbok gave him a wide grin and a thumbs-up. “That’s… great. You should totally go for that.”
“Yongbok!” Minho yelled, glaring.
“What? You’ve got less than a month left. Time’s ticking, hyung.”
Minho groaned again and covered his face with his arm. “It’s just weird, okay? He was so… I don’t know. He seemed kind. Shy. Gentle. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who just… fucks any omega that comes along. I don’t wanna get him grossed out.”
Yongbok sat beside him. “You wouldn’t be gross, Minho. He is cute, sure—but you’re cuter. Any alpha should feel lucky to get hit on by you.”
Minho stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the ceiling—but Yongbok could tell he was still thinking about it.
Still thinking about him.
—
Four weeks until the next heat.
Minho, in fact, hadn't gone back to the café.
Yes, he was desperate. But still—he couldn’t bring himself to show up at Jisung’s workplace unannounced. The whole OERS situation was already driving him up the wall. Showing up like some scent-crazed omega? No, thanks.
So instead, he tried to distract himself.
Cooking always helped. Maybe something new this time. He’d seen a recipe for lemon cheesecake the other day, and it stuck with him. Fresh, tart, sweet. Sounded perfect.
He really should’ve made a shopping list, though.
Standing in the baking aisle, Minho squinted at the shelves, frozen between options. Caster sugar or granulated? And what even was golden sugar?
Then he stopped.
Not because he found the sugar he needed—but because something else hit him.
That scent.
Woody jasmine, soft and floral at the edges, warm and familiar. Way too familiar. Minho blinked, stunned. Was he hallucinating now? Great. Hallucinating scents in the middle of a supermarket. That was a new low.
“Um…” A small throat-clearing sound behind him.
“Hey. Minho, right?”
Minho froze like a startled cat.
He turned slowly, heart thudding, absolutely unprepared for what he was about to see.
There stood Jisung.
No café apron. No hat. Just a hoodie and messy black hair falling into his eyes—those big, gentle eyes—and cheeks as round and soft as ever. He looked smaller somehow, more real. And yet that scent didn’t need any introduction. It wrapped around Minho instantly, steady and grounding.
“Oh—right,” Minho said, turning fully now, trying his best to sound casual. “Jisung, right?” Like he was just now putting a name to a vaguely familiar face. Not like he’d been thinking about his scent and his stupidly perfect shoulders for days. Or about that tiny chocolate-brown mole on his cheek that—
“Yes!” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I’m surprised you remembered me.”
Then his eyes flicked down to the shopping basket in Minho’s hands. “Planning to make a dessert?”
“Y-yeah,” Minho said quickly. “Thought I’d try a lemon cheesecake.”
“Ah, that sounds good,” Jisung said, nodding. “I’ve been meaning to make something sweet too. I’ve been craving strawberries lately—”
Strawberries.
Minho felt the blush rise before he could stop it, spreading hot across his neck.
At the same moment, Jisung seemed to realize what he’d just said.
“Oh! I mean—” And there it was: the flustered cheeks again. “Because I—uh—saw a recipe for vanilla strawberry cake online. That’s all. Not, like—”
Minho let out a soft laugh and nodded. “I see.”
“I wasn’t trying to—uh…” Jisung fumbled. “I didn’t mean anything weird.”
“Relax,” Minho said gently, smiling. “I get it.”
Jisung let out a breath of relief and gave a quick nod. Then, clearly trying to avoid digging himself into a deeper hole, he waved awkwardly and turned to walk away.
Minho watched him go, still holding his basket, still feeling the echo of that scent clinging to the air between them.
God.
He wished he could be the one to satisfy the alpha’s craving.
***
Minho had just left a restaurant with an alpha—someone he’d met through KnotMe, though for the life of him, he couldn’t recall the guy’s name. Still, he felt somewhat relieved.
The dinner had gone... fine. The alpha’s scent didn’t appeal to him at all—too sharp, a bit assertive—but he could hold a decent conversation and, more importantly, had agreed to help Minho through his upcoming heat. That alone made Minho feel a little less panicked.
“We could stop by that café nearby—if you don’t mind,” the alpha suggested as they stepped outside.
Minho glanced around, quickly realizing which café he meant.
That café. Again.
It felt like he was caught in some kind of loop—always circling back to the same place. The place that he liked the smell best. He sighed and nodded.
Inside, a new face was working behind the counter—a young omega with long dark hair and a polite, distant expression. Minho’s eyes, however, were drawn almost instantly elsewhere.
Jisung was cleaning a table near the back, sleeves rolled up, apron tied neatly around his waist as always. Focused. Familiar.
Minho barely registered what the alpha—what was his name?—was saying.
“Minho? What’ll you have?” the alpha asked, touching his arm.
“Just an espresso,” Minho replied shortly, distracted. He was trying—subtly—to catch even the faintest trace of Jisung’s scent, though they weren’t close enough yet.
“Cool. Go grab us a table, yeah?” the alpha said with a smile. “I’ll wait for the order.”
Minho nodded without a word and made his way toward the seating area. As if on cue, Jisung looked up and spotted him.
“Hi again, Minho,” he said.
There was no smile this time.
And when the scent finally hit—Minho noticed it wasn’t the same. It still held that familiar woody jasmine note, but something was off. Duller. Tense. Bitter, almost.
“Hey, Jisung,” Minho greeted, offering a small smile anyway. “Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“You smell... kinda bitter today,” Minho said, hesitating for a beat. “Not that I have a problem with that! I just... figured I’d ask.”
“I’m fine,” Jisung replied flatly, brushing it off.
Minho sat down at a table, uncertain if he should say more. Then, out of nowhere, Jisung spoke again.
“You go out with a lot of alphas, huh?”
“What?” Minho blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t! What are you even talking about?”
“That alpha was all over you,” Jisung said, still avoiding his eyes. “Last week, it was someone else. Just made me wonder.”
Minho didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Then Jisung seemed to snap back to himself, cheeks coloring with embarrassment.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know I don’t have the right to say anything. We don’t even know each other. It’s just—”
“Hey, Min,” the alpha from the app returned, setting a cup down in front of him. “Here’s your espresso.”
Jisung immediately went quiet and turned back toward the counter.
Minho wanted to stop him, to say something—anything—but the moment had already passed.
“That guy bothering you?” the alpha asked, frowning as he took a seat.
“No, no,” Minho replied quickly. “We were just talking. Thanks for the coffee.”
As he sipped from the cup, his gaze drifted back toward the counter. He scanned for Jisung, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him.
But he was gone—already out of sight.
***
When Minho got home that night, he was surprised to find Yongbok sprawled out on his couch, eyes wide and practically sparkling with anticipation.
“So? How did the date go?” the blond asked eagerly.
“Fine,” Minho replied flatly, dropping down onto the couch beside him.
“Just fine?” Yongbok tilted his head, not hiding his curiosity.
“I didn’t like his scent,” Minho admitted, rubbing at his temples. “But he wasn’t a bad guy, and…” he paused, then added reluctantly, “he agreed to spend my heat with me. I gave him my number.”
“Oh!” Yongbok shot up, excited. “That’s awesome! We should go back to Dr. Choi and let her know—she could give advice on what to do when it hits, and—” He trailed off mid-thought, eyes narrowing as he got a good look at Minho’s expression. “Wait… why do you look like someone just died?”
“We went to the café,” Minho said with a sigh.
Yongbok immediately pulled a face, his knowing look setting Minho on edge.
“What?” Minho snapped. “Why are you making that face?”
“I know what you're about to say,” Yongbok said, clearing his throat dramatically before putting on a high-pitched, mock-earnest voice. “‘I’m Lee Minho, I like the alpha who works at the café but can’t just ask him out, so I keep dating useless alphas I don’t care about and then get sad because I’m not with Jisung, the cutest alpha in the world—’”
“Stop it!” Minho chucked a couch pillow at him, smacking him square in the head. “I told you why I can’t just ask him. And something… something happened today.”
Yongbok sat up straighter, instantly serious. “What happened?”
“I talked to him. Just a bit. But it felt like…” Minho hesitated. “He looked kind of... upset. Like he disapproved of me being there with another alpha.”
“That’s good!” Yongbok grinned. “Maybe he’s jealous.”
“I doubt it,” Minho muttered. “He probably thinks I’m some kind of omega whore who—”
“Hyung. Shut up.” Yongbok sighed heavily, his tone soft but firm. “It’s been ages since the last time you were with anyone—so long that it’s affecting your health. This alpha? He doesn’t know your situation. He doesn’t even know you. So stop jumping to conclusions, or caring about what he thinks.”
Minho didn’t say anything.
“I’m serious,” Yongbok went on, quieter now. “Go out with whoever alpha you want, as many as you need. You deserve to spend your heat feeling safe and cared for. Not miserable just because you're stuck in your own head about it.”
Minho looked at him, then gave a tiny, defeated nod.
“Fine,” Minho agreed—mostly just to get Yongbok off his back.
When he leaned back and picked up his phone, he noticed a few new messages waiting for him:
Unknown number:
Hey Min
This is Sehun :)
I really enjoyed our date.
Text me if you need anything!
Minho let out a long, tired sigh, thumb hovering over the screen.
Defeated, he locked his phone without replying.
***
The following day, Minho returned to the café.
Yongbok had a point. He shouldn't care so much about whatever Jisung might think. Things were settled now—he had Sehun, an alpha willing to help him through his heat. No more risk, no more panic. Everything was under control.
But still, Minho couldn’t stop thinking about the look Jisung had given him the day before. That brief flash of something—hurt? Disappointment? And the bitter edge to his scent, usually so soft. It had stuck with him. The whole thing had left Minho a little pissed, too. Just because Jisung was cute and smelled amazing didn’t give him the right to make judgy assumptions about him.
Who did he think he was, anyway? Minho’s alpha?
As soon as he stepped into the café, Minho noticed Jisung wasn’t at the counter. He glanced around, but the familiar face wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He hesitated for a second, then walked up and rang the little bell.
A cheerful omega appeared behind the counter—the same one from yesterday.
“Hi there! What can I get for you?” he asked brightly.
“Ah, sorry. I’m actually looking for someone… Is Jisung here today?” Minho asked, his voice dipping slightly, unsure.
The omega tilted his head. “Oh! Today’s his day off.”
“Ah, right.” Minho gave a faint, polite smile. He hadn’t thought about that. “I’ll just get going, then.”
He was already turning when the omega called after him, “Wait!”
Minho turned back, confused.
“Are you… Minho, by any chance?”
Minho blinked, surprised, but nodded.
The omega smiled like he’d been expecting that answer, then scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it over.
“That’s his number,” he said, grinning. “He’s not here today, but… you should definitely message him.”
Minho stared down at the digits, brows slightly raised.
Jisung’s number?
“Thanks,” he said, trying to keep his expression neutral—though he felt anything but. Tucking the slip of paper into his pocket, he stepped out of the café.
Minho was confused, for sure. How did the omega knew his name? Should he really just… text Jisung?
***
After work, Minho went straight to Yongbok’s. The omega was already waiting for him, holding a giant bag of snacks like it was the most important thing in the world.
“Snacks?” Minho smiled softly. “Which movie are we watching?”
“Be useful and choose one for me,” Yongbok replied, tossing the bag onto the couch as he padded back inside.
Minho chuckled and nodded. Before turning on the TV, he made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of juice. Yongbok was saying something behind him—rambling about genres or actors, maybe—but Minho wasn’t really listening.
Just as he stepped around the couch, the cup slipped in his hand, and cold juice spilled down the front of his pants.
“Shit,” he hissed, jumping back instinctively.
“Stop messing up my apartment!” Yongbok shouted from across the room. He pointed at the mess and rolled his eyes. “Just give me your pants and go grab one of mine from the bedroom, hyung. You’re unbelievable.”
Minho sighed and muttered under his breath, but he obeyed. A moment later, now wearing a pair of grey sweatpants that were a bit tight on his hips, he returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The movie was already playing, something light and action-packed, but Minho barely noticed it.
His thoughts drifted.
He reached into his pocket—automatically—searching for the small piece of folded paper he’d been carrying since earlier that day. Jisung’s number.
But his fingers met nothing.
His heart sank.
“Lix! Where did you put my pants?”
“I already threw them in the machine,” Yongbok called from the kitchen, casual and clueless.
Minho froze. A wave of panic shot through him as he bolted toward the laundry area. He flung the washer open mid-cycle, the drum still sloshing with soapy water. He grabbed the soaked pants and dug through the pockets with shaking hands until he found it: the crumpled remains of the paper, completely ruined.
His chest tightened.
Of course.
“What is it, hyung?” Yongbok asked, appearing behind him with a confused expression. He’d seen the way Minho was standing—still, silent, with his back slightly hunched like he was trying not to feel too much.
“It’s… nothing,” Minho murmured, forcing his voice steady. He dropped the wet paper back into the drum and closed the machine. “Just ruined something I needed.”
He walked past Yongbok without another word and returned to the couch.
***
Two days later, Minho was back at the café.
He knew how absurd it was—the frequency with which he’d been showing up there lately. Even more absurd was the amount of caffeine he was consuming for someone who didn’t particularly like coffee in the first place.
But curiosity had a grip on him. He needed to understand why that omega knew his name… and why he’d thought it necessary to give Minho Jisung’s number, unprompted, like he was doing them both a favor.
When he finally made it to the counter, it was the same dark-haired omega as before.
“Hi, Minho!” the boy greeted him with a bright smile. “Are you here for Jisung?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Uh—” Minho rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling a little warm. “Is he here?”
“Mhm. I’ll call him for you. You can take a seat while you wait,” the omega offered, still grinning before disappearing into the back.
Minho sat down by the window, hands loosely folded on the table. While he waited, his thoughts wandered. For the first time in a while, he acknowledged that even if he ended up spending his next heat with Sehun, it wouldn’t be something he could bear. Just the memory of Sehun’s cloying scent was enough to make his stomach twist.
Then Jisung appeared.
He was holding a small plate with a slice of cake and Minho’s usual espresso. His hair was a little messy, and there was a shy, slightly awkward smile tugging at his lips.
“Hey,” he said gently.
“Um, hi…” Minho replied, watching the alpha set the plate down in front of him, then hesitantly take the seat across.
“Sorry—uh, is this for me?”
Jisung nodded, looking a bit embarrassed.
“It must be a mistake. I didn’t order anything—”
“I know. It’s on the house,” Jisung said quickly.
Minho blinked. “Uh? But why—”
“It’s just that—” Jisung let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I feel bad about how I acted a few days ago. I know it wasn’t my place to say anything about you or your choices. I was… kind of rude.”
Before Minho could say a word, Jisung kept going.
“And—um—I also heard Hyunjin gave you my number, and I’m sorry about that too. I don’t know what he was thinking. I mean, I don’t mind that he gave it to you, but since you never messaged me, I figured he might’ve made you uncomfortable. So… again, sorry.”
“Jisung, I—”
“Like, I get it, okay? Why would you even want my number? You probably came here to scream at me because—”
“Jisung!” Minho cut in, louder this time.
The alpha’s mouth snapped shut.
“I didn’t message you that day because I lost your number,” Minho explained, trying not to laugh at how frantic Jisung sounded. “The note was in my jeans pocket, and I only remembered it after they were already in the washing machine. That’s all. I was going to text you.”
Jisung stared at him, wide-eyed, as if his brain had to work extra hard to process that.
“Oh,” he said at last. “Sorry for assuming.”
“Yeah. You really should stop assuming things,” Minho replied, tilting his head.
“I’m really sorry—”
“Stop apologizing so much,” Minho cut him off again, though not unkindly. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Especially since you got me cake and all.” He gave a teasing smirk.
That made Jisung smile—a real, heart-shaped smile that made his round cheeks puff adorably. Minho had to look away for a second.
“I hope you like the flavor,” Jisung said softly as Minho took a bite.
Minho chewed, paused thoughtfully, then gave a satisfied nod. “It’s great. Thank you.”
Jisung looked relieved.
“Are we really okay now?” he asked quietly.
Minho arched a brow. “See, Jisung… I come to this café a lot. It wouldn’t be good to be on bad terms with the guy making my espresso. You know—you could spit in it at any time.”
“What?! I would never! Oh my god—”
Jisung was already rambling in flustered protest, and Minho couldn’t help but laugh.
—
Three weeks until the next heat.
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Yongbok began, already sounding suspicious. “You went to the café a few days ago to confront Jisung about how he treated you. He wasn’t there, so his coworker gave you his number. I accidentally ruined that. Then you went back, forgave him for everything, and now you guys are… friends? What happened to putting him in his place?”
“I couldn’t.” Minho let out a dramatic sigh. “He showed up with a cute piece of cake, looking at me with those big, apologetic eyes. I knew I was done for the second he sat down. I didn’t stand a chance.”
“I can’t believe this.” Yongbok groaned, throwing himself onto the couch like it physically pained him. “You are not the same Minho I know, hyung. You’re like this and you’re not even in pre-heat yet! You’re already folding for some dumb alpha because he has a pretty face.”
“He’s not dumb,” Minho argued, too quickly.
“Oh my god.” Yongbok covered his face with a cushion, defeated. “Now you’re defending him?”
Minho stayed quiet, and Yongbok peeked at him from over the pillow.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“I’m going there tonight.”
“Tonight, huh?”
“Mhm. Now that I have his number, I know for sure he’s working.”
“And you just can’t not go, can you?”
Minho paused, hesitating for the first time.
“What?” Yongbok raised a brow.
Minho pouted before he could stop himself. “Do you think… he wouldn’t want to see me?”
“I think you’re both idiots who are too scared to make a move,” Yongbok muttered. “Do what you want, hyung. You already have an alpha for your heat, though. No reason to be trailing after Jisung like this.”
“Hm,” Minho hummed, noncommittal.
Yongbok eyed him for a long moment, then sighed again—this time softer, almost tired.
He was starting to seriously doubt whether Minho had any real intention of calling Sehun at all.
***
When Minho stepped into the café, he was immediately struck by a familiar scent—warm, sweet, and unmistakably like his own: vanilla and strawberries.
“Hey, Minho-hyung!” Hyunjin greeted brightly from behind the counter, already flashing a grin. This new habit had become a routine lately—Hyunjin greeting him like that, as if they’d known each other for ages.
“Hi, Hyunjin.” Minho smiled politely, though a bit caught off guard.
“Espresso?”
“Hm, yes.” He nodded, then glanced around curiously. “Sorry, are you guys trying something new? The smell in here—”
“Oh, that?” Hyunjin smirked. “It’s just Jisung. He’s been trying to get a strawberry cheesecake recipe right for days. I think today might finally be the day.”
Minho felt a faint heat rise to his cheeks. Was Jisung still craving strawberries like he’d mentioned before—
As if summoned by the thought, Jisung appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
“Oh—hyung!” he said, catching sight of Minho. “You’re here.” He smiled, then suddenly seemed to realize the strong scent wafting through the café. His expression shifted—flustered, a little pink in the cheeks.
“Talk to him later,” Hyunjin cut in with a teasing edge. “Go get his espresso first, knothead.” He gave Jisung a light smack on the arm.
Jisung’s eyes went wide. “What? Don’t call me that! Oh my god—”
“Go grab a seat, hyung!” Hyunjin waved at Minho with a cheerful grin.
Still mildly flustered by the scene, Minho gave a small nod and headed toward his usual table.
A few minutes later, Jisung appeared at his side, carefully balancing an espresso and a small plate with a slice of cheesecake. From the scent alone, Minho knew it was the said strawberry one, of course.
“Is—uh—is the flavor okay?” Jisung asked, his voice a little unsure. “If not—”
“It’s fine,” Minho cut in gently. “But… I didn’t ask for the cheesecake.”
“Obviously, it’s on the house,” Jisung said, offering a bashful smile as he set the plate down. Without waiting for a response, he slid into the seat across from Minho, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That was also something new. Jisung would always sit with him and chat for a bit now. “So?” Jisung asked, trying to sound casual. “Is it any good?”
Minho took a small bite, letting the creamy texture melt on his tongue before nodding in approval.
“Mhm. You’re a great cook,” he said with a smirk that didn’t go unnoticed.
Jisung ducked his head and brushed off the compliment with a small laugh, quickly shifting the conversation to something else.
***
“So, Minho, I take it you’ve found an alpha to help you through your heat? That’s really great news,” Dr. Choi said warmly as soon as she stepped into the clinic room.
Minho blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… how did you know?”
She smiled as she took a seat across from him. “Your new lab results just came in.” She handed him a folder of papers. “Your hormone levels are beautifully balanced this time. None of the regulators I prescribed would have brought them into this range so quickly. I assumed you’ve been spending time around a compatible alpha.”
Minho stared down at the papers, silent for a moment.
“Uh—” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wait, what? A compatible alpha?”
“That’s what it looks like.” Dr. Choi raised an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”
“Well, I…” He let out a small sigh, trying to collect his thoughts. “I did find an alpha to help me, yes. But we haven’t… I mean, we’re not spending time together right now. We agreed I’d call him once my pre-heat symptoms kicked in.”
Dr. Choi leaned back slightly, watching him carefully. “So, have you been around any other alphas recently?”
Minho hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s this one guy. He works at a café near my apartment. We talk sometimes when I go there. I wouldn’t say we’re close or anything, but he’s the only new unmated alpha I’ve spent more than a few minutes around lately.”
Dr. Choi nodded slowly. “Is his scent… appealing to you?”
Minho coughed, clearly flustered. “I mean—uh, yeah. He smells good.”
The beta smiled knowingly, then tapped her pen against the edge of her clipboard. “Minho, last time we met, I told you how rare it is to find a truly compatible alpha so quickly. But your current results? Just being around this alpha—without any physical intimacy or targeted scenting—has already done wonders for your hormone levels. Also, you’re getting close to your heat and haven’t shown any of the OERS symptoms you were experiencing before. That kind of regulation doesn’t just happen on its own.”
Minho blinked, surprised. “Wait—what? Can’t it really be with any other alpha?”
“Well, technically, yes,” she admitted. “But if this particular alpha is that compatible with your physiology, it means your body won’t fight the process. You’ll transition through your heat more calmly, with far less strain on your system. That matters, especially in your condition.”
He swallowed hard, eyes drifting back down to the papers. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’m not telling you what to do,” she added gently. “But if you feel even a little bit drawn to this alpha, it’s worth considering. Your body is already telling you something.”
Minho gave a small nod, still absorbing everything.
One thing was certain: Yongbok couldn’t dream about this conversation.
***
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
hiiiiii hyung
You:
hey jisungie
how can i help you~
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
since i’m on my day off
was wondering if you would like to hang out with me for a bit :)
Minho couldn’t stop the little jolt of excitement. This was kind of a date, right?
You:
oh?
what about my daily free slice of cheesecake?
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
haha
i can still get you free cheesecake off work, hyung
You:
really?
how’s that?
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
well, we could hang at mine if you don’t mind
i can make you any cheesecake flavor you want
You:
because you’re the amazing, world-class, professional cheesecake baker han jisung??
wow~~
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
stoooop making fun of me :(
but seriously, if you don’t want to come over, we can go somewhere else
i can still buy you cheesecake
or... we don’t have to hang out at all if you’re not up for it
it’s okay
You:
i want to
let’s go to yours
i need to see for myself if you’re really the cheesecake pro 😌
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
cool !!!!!
could we meet at the shop first? i need to buy the ingredients
You:
okay jisungie
meet you there in 20?
Han Jisung (free cheesecake pass):
perfect <3
Minho smiled at the screen, his heart already beating faster. He stood up to get changed, a little lighter on his feet than before.
***
They’d decided to make an apple cheesecake. They, because there was no way Minho was going to just sit still and watch Jisung glide around the kitchen like a cooking show host. Not with how dangerously charming he looked doing even the simplest tasks.
When they stepped into Jisung’s apartment, Minho knew immediately he was in trouble.
The space was warm, lived-in, and impossibly cozy—but none of that compared to the scent that hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Something clean and earthy, with a quiet sweetness underneath—like fresh-cut herbs crushed underfoot in a flower garden, or sun-warmed wood tinged with the scent of something blooming nearby. It settled low in Minho’s chest and curled behind his ribs, comforting and maddening all at once.
It smelled like safety. Like something he could crave without even knowing why.
“Hyung? You okay?” Jisung asked, tilting his head.
Minho blinked fast. “Huh? Yeah, yeah. Why?”
“You’re a little red.” Jisung stepped closer. “Is it too warm? Want me to open a window?”
“I’m fine, really,” Minho said quickly, forcing a smile. “Let’s just cook, okay?”
Of course, he wasn’t fine. He was flushed because the scent of Jisung’s home—his scent—was working its way through every layer of Minho’s self-control.
Cooking together was a welcome distraction. They laughed, made a mess of the counter, and bickered playfully over the recipe steps. Minho was actually enjoying himself—until he caught sight of a dusting of flour on Jisung’s cheek and burst out laughing.
“What?” Jisung asked, confused.
Minho pointed. “You’ve got—here—” but he was laughing too hard to finish the sentence.
Jisung glanced at the reflection in the microwave door and smirked. “You think that’s funny?”
Without hesitation, he reached out and smeared a streak of flour across Minho’s cheek.
“Oh, you’re so dead,” Minho muttered, lunging toward the bag of flour—but Jisung grabbed his wrists mid-swipe, grinning like a menace.
Minho opened his mouth to whine, but their eyes locked—and everything else went quiet.
He hadn’t realized how close they were. How easily Jisung’s hands fit around his wrists. How still the apartment had become, except for the soft sound of their breathing.
Minho’s heart stuttered.
He could feel it again—that calm, grounding scent, but this close it was something else entirely. The sweetness in it came alive near Jisung’s skin, softer and warmer, like honey left in the sun or the memory of someone’s favorite hoodie. It made Minho’s head feel light. His knees didn’t feel like they were doing a great job anymore either.
He wanted to kiss him. More than anything.
Then the oven timer went off.
Jisung blinked, startled, and immediately dropped Minho’s wrists. He stepped back, clearing his throat and motioning toward the oven.
Minho stood frozen, breathless. His cheeks were burning. He grabbed a towel, wiping the flour from his face and trying to recover, but his chest was still tight with the sudden silence between them.
They finished the dessert in quieter voices, sharing occasional glances that lingered too long.
Later, they curled up on Jisung’s couch with plates of the cheesecake and a movie playing on low volume. But Minho could hardly taste the dessert. The only thing he could register was the subtle draw of Jisung beside him—his scent still clinging to the fabric of his shirt, to the warmth of his skin. It wasn’t overwhelming. If anything, it made Minho feel... calm. Like his bones had finally remembered how to rest.
“Are you sleepy?” Jisung asked softly.
Minho only nodded.
Jisung reached over, quietly taking the plate from his hands, and without much thought, Minho leaned in. His head found Jisung’s shoulder, then slowly slid lower until he was tucked against the curve of the alpha’s neck.
The scent there was deeper, more concentrated. It wrapped around him like dusk—soft and quiet and gold at the edges. Minho didn’t think. He just let himself breathe it in.
He fell asleep to the sound of Jisung’s heartbeat, making a small, contented hum as he finally let go.
***
When Minho woke up, it was to the sound of his phone ringing.
Still groggy, he reached for it, blinking at the screen. His body froze the moment he registered the time—he should already be getting ready for work. Except… he wasn’t home. And there was an arm draped comfortably around his shoulders.
Minho looked around, eyes landing on a sleeping Jisung curled beside him on the couch.
The alpha looked ridiculously cute—his cheek squished softly into the cushion, lips parted in a faint snore, hair a mess across his forehead. He looked peaceful. Comfortable.
And his scent—warm and content, a blend of something crisp and floral, deepened by sleep—wrapped around Minho like a blanket. It made his pulse slow in the best way, made him feel like he could sink into it forever.
Shit.
He hadn’t meant to stay the night. But he couldn’t regret it either. Not when he felt this rested. No soreness, no tightness in his back or shoulders. Just calm. It might’ve been the best sleep he’d had in weeks.
Jisung must’ve sensed the shift in his breathing, because moments later, he stirred. His eyes fluttered open, taking a second to focus before they met Minho’s.
“Uh—” Minho startled, trying to sit up a little. “Good morning.”
“Hmm,” Jisung mumbled, voice thick with sleep. Then he blinked down, clearly registering the position they were in. Gently, he pulled his arm away.
“Sorry for sleeping on you.”
Jisung shook his head. “It’s okay. I should’ve woken you up when I saw how sleepy you were getting,” Jisung said, rubbing at his eyes. “Can’t say it was a bad experience though.” He chuckled softly.
“Uh?” Minho asked, blinking.
“Don’t mind me. I’m still waking up,” Jisung muttered, brushing it off with a half-smile.
“Right.” Minho stretched slightly, already gathering himself. “I wish I could stay and help you clean up, but I really need to get home. Feed the cats, shower, work… you know.”
He gave an apologetic look as he reached for his bag.
“It’s fine, hyung. Go do what you need to do.” Jisung smiled, warm and casual. “Next time though, we can mess up your apartment instead.”
It was clearly meant to be innocent, but the second the words left his mouth, Jisung paused—eyes widening slightly in realization.
“Uh—I mean, like, baking mess! Not—uh…”
Minho laughed under his breath, grabbing his jacket. “Sure, I got it.”
He headed toward the door, heart still thudding oddly fast. But just before stepping out, he turned back. On instinct—without really thinking it through—he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Jisung’s cheek.
“Text me,” he said quietly, then slipped out the door before either of them could fully process what had just happened.
He didn’t look back to see Jisung’s stunned, blinking stare—cheeks already pink where Minho had kissed him, nor the way the alpha instinctively raised a hand to the spot Minho had kissed, blinking in surprise.
Minho shut the door behind him, heart hammering in his chest.
What the hell had he just done?
***
When Minho finally got home, the last thing he expected was to find Yongbok waiting for him.
“Uh? What are you even doing here?” he asked, both confused and surprised.
Yongbok gave him a long, unamused stare from the couch. Minho barely acknowledged it before rushing to the kitchen to fill the cats’ bowls—only to find them already eating.
“Hm? You fed the cats?”
“Where were you?” Yongbok stood up and walked over to him, arms crossed. “You didn’t answer any of my texts. I got worried, so I came here—and you were gone all night!”
Minho opened his mouth to respond, but Yongbok took a step closer, sniffing the air. His expression shifted.
“Wait. Why do you smell like—”
“Lix, listen—”
“You were with Jisung?!” he practically shouted.
Minho flinched. “Yes! I was hanging out at his place. We were baking, I got tired, fell asleep on the couch—and I just woke up, okay? I’m late for work.”
Yongbok’s eyes narrowed. “His scent is all over you. You expect me to believe you just slept there?”
Minho sighed, already feeling the headache forming. “He slept next to me. That’s it. Nothing else happened.” He rubbed his forehead. “Look, I’m seriously late. Let me shower and get ready, and I promise I’ll explain everything properly later, alright?”
Yongbok hesitated, clearly still suspicious—but eventually nodded, his arms loosening slightly.
“Fine. But you better tell me everything.”
—
Two weeks until the next heat.
As his heat approached, Minho was surprised — and admittedly relieved — by how well he’d been feeling. He kept waiting for the inevitable crash: the feverish haze, the aching body, the nausea that had hit him so hard last time. But day after day passed, and the storm never came.
Maybe Dr. Choi had been right after all.
Being around Jisung, constantly surrounded by his scent — warm, grounding, and subtly sweet — might really have been doing wonders for him.
The realization brought a new weight with it, though. Because the more time he spent with Jisung, the more he realized how deeply he liked him. It wasn’t just attraction — it was the way Jisung’s round cheeks always held the faintest blush, how his big eyes widened in surprise whenever Minho teased him, the shy smiles, the awkward jokes, the unwavering kindness.
Minho had definitely developed a crush.
And with that came the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.
What if he never found the courage to confess? What if Jisung didn’t feel the same — or worse, what if he saw Minho’s condition as something inconvenient or burdensome?
What if Jisung saw him as one of those stereotypical omegas? Desperate, needy. Going on random dates with alphas he didn’t know just because he couldn’t live without a few knots. What if he thought Minho was futile? Or worse—
“Here it is—” Jisung’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, cheerful and bright. “Something sweet for my sweet hyung,” he announced, placing a huge cupcake in front of him.
“Hm?” Minho blinked, blinking himself back into the present. “No cheesecake today? I expected better from you…” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Hyung! We’re low on ingredients! The delivery didn’t come in yet and—”
“There’s no need to explain yourself,” Minho interrupted with a smirk. “You’ve already dropped in my rankings.”
“What? How far down?” Jisung frowned dramatically, leaning on the table.
“You’re officially my second favorite alpha.”
“No way!” Jisung gasped. “What did I do?!”
“I’m teasing you, silly,” Minho finally let him off the hook, laughing.
Jisung let out a breath, his wide eyes softening into something warm. “You’re evil,” he pouted, but still slid into the seat across from Minho.
Minho just smiled, taking a bite of the cupcake — rich, fluffy, and perfectly sweet — and letting himself sink into the moment. Jisung’s scent lingered around him, a calm haze of something both grounding and addictive.
It wrapped around him like a cocoon, and for now, it was more than enough.
***
Minho wasn’t exactly proud to admit he’d been hanging out with Jisung every single day lately—and even less proud to admit that, despite that, he still hadn’t brought up the topic of his approaching heat.
Now, they were stepping out of the cinema—after watching some random movie Jisung had suggested. Not that Minho could say he’d really paid attention. Being around the alpha always made him feel slightly detached from reality, like he was floating just above his own body, not fully present. Thinking clearly around Jisung had become nearly impossible.
As they exited into the cool night air, Minho bumped into someone by accident.
“Oh—sorry,” he turned to apologize, and then froze.
It was Yongbok. And right beside him was Chan, holding his hand.
“Uh—Minho-hyung!” Yongbok beamed, clearly surprised but pleased.
Chan turned toward them too, and his eyes widened when they landed on Jisung.
“Oh—Jisung!” he greeted brightly, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Didn’t know you knew Minho…” he added with a hint of curiosity.
Yongbok’s gaze darted knowingly between the two of them, lips twitching like he was holding back a comment.
“Uh, yeah, hyung,” Jisung replied with a small smile. “Didn’t know you knew Minho-hyung either.”
“Of course I know him. He’s always bothering my mate,” Chan joked, nudging Yongbok’s shoulder.
“Excuse me?” Minho said, scoffing. “Your crazed omega is the one who can’t leave me the fuck alone—”
“Oh, right! I remember you,” Jisung smiled politely at Yongbok and offered a handshake. “Didn’t realize you were Chan-hyung’s mate.”
“Yup. Nice seeing you again, Jisung,” Yongbok replied, giving him a pointedly teasing look. “I see things with Minho-hyung are going… well.”
Jisung smiled sheepishly and half-hid behind Minho like instinct, the tips of his ears going red. Adorable.
“Well, we should get going,” Minho said quickly, already tugging Jisung along by the wrist before either of the other two could say more.
“Bye!” Yongbok called out, smirking.
“Nice to see you both,” Chan added cheerfully.
Minho didn’t turn back—he just kept walking, Jisung’s warmth trailing close behind him, the alpha’s scent curling in his nose like a distraction he wasn’t quite ready to confront.
***
lix’s annoying boyfriend:
Hey, Minho :)
How are you doing?
You:
hi hyung
what do you want
lix’s annoying boyfriend:
Lix asked me to tell you something
He said if he told you, you wouldn’t believe it
You:
ughhh
what is it?
lix’s annoying boyfriend:
Do you remember that time Lix made you download the knot thing app?
And I said I knew an alpha who might be able to help you?
You:
what about it
lix’s annoying boyfriend:
I was talking about Jisung
Lix thinks it might have something to do with you two being fated mates? Haha
Honestly, I’m just glad you guys ended up meeting on your own
You:
oh.
your mate is crazy. tks for telling me anyways hyung
lix’s annoying boyfriend:
:)
—
One week until the next heat.
This time, they were at Minho’s place. Minho had insisted, even though Jisung was a little reluctant about it—especially since the last time Minho had stayed at his place, he’d left it a mess.
Minho was focused on chopping vegetables for the kimchi kimbap they were making, while Jisung was completely entertained by Minho’s cats, playing on the floor with laser-sharp focus. Minho couldn’t bring himself to call him over to help—he was too charmed by the sight.
After a while, the dish was ready. When Minho went to call Jisung, he was surprised to find the alpha asleep on the carpet, two cats curled up on him and another sprawled lazily nearby. The scene was so adorable Minho instinctively reached for his phone to snap a photo. Then, he knelt down and gently touched Jisung’s shoulder to wake him.
“Huh?” Jisung blinked up at him, still half-asleep. But as the smell of food hit him, he pouted, eyes widening. “Don’t tell me—”
“Let’s eat, silly,” Minho said with a smile, nodding toward the kitchen.
“Hyung! You should’ve woken me up—oh my God,” Jisung groaned as he sat up.
“It’s fine. Stop complaining and come eat,” Minho said, already walking away. Jisung followed after a moment.
When he finally took a bite, his round cheeks puffed out from how much food he’d stuffed into his mouth. “This is so good, oh my God—” he mumbled through a full mouth.
Minho chuckled. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I am not!” Jisung insisted. “This is amazing—I could marry you right now,” he added without even realizing what he was saying, too caught up in devouring the food. Minho felt his ears warming.
Later, they were sprawled comfortably on Minho’s couch. Jisung had picked the drama this time—after much whining, since he’d been the one to choose last time too. Minho didn’t really mind. Somewhere between the third and fourth episode, Minho found himself relaxing more than he had in days, sinking into Jisung’s scent and letting his head rest on the alpha’s shoulder. Jisung didn’t protest.
A few episodes later, Minho was nearly dozing off when he felt a gentle shake on his shoulder.
“Sorry for waking you, hyung,” Jisung said softly. “I should go—it’s getting late, and I’ve to open the café tomorrow.”
He ran his hand through Minho’s hair in an absentminded caress. Minho barely mumbled a reply, something along the lines of “I’ll walk you to the door.” But when he looked up again, he noticed the warm glow of the night light reflecting off Jisung’s face through the open curtain. His eyes shimmered, his skin glowing.
And just like that, Minho’s thoughts spiraled again—thoughts of Jisung, of how much he liked him, how deeply attracted he was to him. His heart-shaped smile, the way he always put Minho first without even realizing it. Minho was caught in a trance.
It looked like Jisung was, too. One moment Minho was staring at his lips, and the next, he wasn’t sure who moved first—but their mouths met in a soft, tentative kiss. A gentle press, brief but real. Then they were staring at each other again.
“I—sorry, I just—” Minho began, panicked, but Jisung pulled him close by the nape and kissed him again. This time, it was a real kiss. Warm and a little messy, heating quickly into something deeper. It could have easily turned into a full-on make-out session if Minho hadn’t pulled back, lightly pressing a hand to Jisung’s chest.
“Jisung, I— I need to tell you something.”
The alpha blinked at him, still catching his breath.
“I really like you,” Minho said in one quick, shaky breath. “And I know this is kind of out of nowhere, but—my heat is coming. It’s due in a week. So I—well, since I like you, I thought… maybe I could ask if you’d be with me when it hits. I know it’s sudden, and maybe it’s a lot, but—”
He couldn’t finish. Jisung’s expression shifted too fast—his eyes wide, the glow of happiness gone, replaced by a panic Minho wasn’t prepared for.
“Hyung, I—” Jisung cut in, stumbling over his words. “I can’t. I—really can’t. I’m sorry.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Jisung—” Minho started, but Jisung was already getting up. In a few moments, he was at the door, fumbling it open and leaving without another word.
And Minho was left sitting on the couch. Alone. With the silence and the echo of everything he’d just confessed.
***
The next day, Yongbok burst into Minho’s apartment, wild-eyed with worry and buzzing with curiosity. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes before demanding answers—Minho’s vague text about ruining things with Jisung had clearly done a number on him.
Minho, however, was too drained to do much of anything. He was curled up on the couch, clutching one of his cats to his chest like a lifeline. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he recounted what had happened the night before. Yongbok, ever the multitasker, was in the kitchen making tea while listening intently.
When Minho finished, Yongbok walked over with the mug, eyes soft and full of pity. “Oh, hyung… I’m really sorry,” he said gently, handing over the tea. “Maybe it was just a little too fast. I mean, I can tell he likes you—”
“No, Lix,” Minho cut in, shaking his head. “He doesn’t. If he did, he could’ve said so. He could’ve just told me it was too soon, or that he wasn’t ready. I would’ve understood. But he just—he said no and ran off.” His voice cracked slightly. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“There’s no need to feel ashamed,” Yongbok said quickly, settling down beside him. “Seriously, I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there.”
“Oh yeah?” Minho replied with a dry, bitter chuckle. “Look where it got me.”
He took a sip of the tea, trying to blink away the sting in his eyes. He hadn’t expected rejection to hit him this hard. Not from Jisung. Not after everything.
Yongbok stayed quiet, watching him with a mix of helplessness and quiet determination. He didn’t know how to fix it, but he knew one thing for sure: he hated seeing Minho like this. And he wasn’t going to let him stay in this pit for any longer.
***
The following day, Yongbok made his way to the café, determined to find Jisung.
When the alpha caught sight of him from behind the counter, he looked visibly hesitant, his shoulders tensing and a faint flush creeping onto his cheeks. Still, he walked over as Yongbok approached.
“Hi, Jisung,” Yongbok said, offering a small, polite smile. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Jisung nodded slowly. “Uh—yeah. Of course. Let’s sit.”
They took a quiet corner table. Yongbok exhaled, unsure of exactly how to start.
“I heard what happened between you and Minho-hyung,” he said carefully.
Jisung looked away, the tips of his ears pink, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I’m not here to guilt you or anything,” Yongbok continued. “But I am here because… hyung didn’t tell you everything. And I think you should know.”
As he explained Minho’s OERS condition, Jisung’s eyes gradually widened with realization, his brows furrowing in shock and concern.
“I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think you liked him,” Yongbok said gently, once he’d finished. “I don’t know your reasons for saying no—but if it’s not you, he’s going to have to spend his heat with another alpha. Not because he wants to. Because he has to.”
Yongbok hesitated, watching the emotions flicker across Jisung’s face.
“So if I’m right… and you do like him, then please—just think about it. His heat could hit at any moment now.”
With that, Yongbok stood and left, leaving Jisung sitting alone at the table, stunned and speechless.
Later, while cleaning up behind the counter, Hyunjin approached him.
“What was that all about, Sung?”
Jisung didn’t answer. He just stared at the empty space where Yongbok had been, lips pressed tight, mind racing with everything he now knew.
***
Being in pre-heat and a few days without seeing Jisung had already left Minho distressed. Feeling the feverish symptoms intensifying, he started to worry that the bad symptoms would return. Thankfully, Yongbok had already taken his cats with him.
Just as Minho decided it was time to call Sehun to calm his nerves, a knock sounded at the door. He walked to the door in slow, labored steps, his body feeling heavy and weak. When he opened the door, he was left speechless, the soothing scent he was so familiar with immediately enveloping him.
“J-Jisung?” Minho stuttered, his eyes widening in surprise. “What- You can’t be here right now,” he tried to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Hyung, please—“ Jisung pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.
“If you really don’t want to be here for my heat, it’s okay. Really. But you— I can’t smell you right now. If I smell you—” Minho’s words trailed off, his mind already clouded by Jisung’s intoxicating presence.
“Can we please not have this talk in the corridor?” Jisung begged, his patience wearing thin.
“You wanna get inside?” Minho asked exasperatedly. “I can’t fucking be around you right now—”
“Minho!” Jisung shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. “I— I wanna be with you. I wanna go through your heat with you. Please,” he pleaded, his eyes filled with sincerity.
“Wh-what?” Minho couldn’t fully comprehend Jisung’s words. He thought he could bear it, but the moment he smelled Jisung again, his resolve began to crumble. Sensing Minho’s distraught state, Jisung gently pushed past him, giving Minho space as he stepped back.
Once inside, Jisung was the one losing his mind as he was fully enveloped by Minho’s pre-heat scent. It was sweeter than ever, making him salivate with anticipation. “Jisung? Why are you here?” Minho asked again, closing the door and leaning against it for support, his legs feeling like they might give out at any moment.
“Hyung, I—” Jisung sighed, trying to find the right words. “I like you so much, okay? I think about you all day. I can’t— I can’t leave you alone for this. Nor let you spend this with someone else.”
“But— But you said… I thought—” Minho recalled their previous conversation, where Jisung had said he couldn’t help him.
“I was scared. I— just thought that… I wouldn’t be of great help to you. That I wouldn’t be able to give you what you might need—” Jisung confessed, his voice filled with vulnerability.
“What are you talking about? Jisung I—” Minho started, but Jisung interrupted him.
“I’m a virgin, hyung. That’s why I… why I said no that time.” Jisung admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Minho was left speechless. What? That was it? Not because Jisung didn’t like him or didn’t find him attractive enough? All this time— “If… if you were already going to spend it with someone else, or… If you don’t want me to be here after all, I understand. I can leave and—” Jisung kept on saying, his voice filled with worry.
“I don’t fucking care if you’re a virgin,” Minho interrupted him, his voice firm. “Jisung, I only wanted you here because I like you. Because— your scent alone drives me wild, so much that I can’t even think straight right now—”
“I just— I don’t wanna be a bother for you if I won’t know what to do when it hits and—” Jisung was babbling worriedly again.
“You won’t be.” Minho said firmly. “Please, please don’t go away.” He pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.
“Hyung—” Jisung started, but Minho cut him off.
“Please don’t leave me—” Minho’s words were cut short as Jisung noticed his scent was getting bitter and desperate again. Jisung closed the gap between them with a few steps and held Minho tightly, circling his arms around Minho’s waist and hearing him sigh in relief.
“I’m here, hyung,” Jisung breathed against his neck, nuzzling Minho’s scent gland. Minho’s body went boneless, melting into Jisung’s embrace. “I won’t leave.”
“Please— I—” Minho didn’t bother finishing his sentence, since it looked like the alpha was in sync with him and was scenting him deeply. Minho felt like he was in paradise as Jisung rubbed his face against his neck in a trance. Then, Jisung started nibbling on his neck, tracing his tongue up his scent gland, hoping to taste him.
Minho closed his eyes, resting his arms on Jisung’s shoulders, trying his best not to whine as he was pressed against the door. When Jisung lightly bit his scent gland, he moaned low, turning his head to give the alpha more access to his neck. At the same time, Jisung gripped his waist rougher, as if Minho’s scent was getting him drunk too.
Getting impatient, Minho tangled his fingers in Jisung’s hair and pulled him closer, attaching their lips together. They moaned in unison as their tongues tangled, and Jisung got a hold of Minho under his thighs, carrying him to the couch before he lost his mind enough to carry the omega.
He sat on the couch with the omega in his lap, and as Minho’s shorts rode up, Jisung was left staring at his thighs in disbelief, feeling a bit insecure again. Sensing his distress, Minho reached for both of Jisung’s hands and positioned them on his thighs, already going for Jisung’s neck, scenting where it was the strongest and nibbling on his ear.
“Don’t think too much, dumb alpha—” Minho licked his earlobe, trying his best not to grind down on Jisung’s lap and overwhelm the younger. “You— you can do anything you want with me. It’s okay—” He said gently, his voice filled with reassurance.
With the encouragement, Jisung groped Minho’s muscular thighs, his hands venturing until he was grabbing Minho’s ass, gripping his cheeks tightly and making him grind on his lap. Jisung groaned at the feeling of the older grinding down on him, his length hardening rapidly in his pants. He gripped the omega's ass cheeks tighter, encouraging the motion as Minho's hips rolled over his lap.
"Hyung..." Jisung panted against Minho's neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips across his sensitive skin. "You smell so fucking good— I want to taste every inch of you—"
Minho whined at the alpha's words, arching his back to push his ass into Jisung's hands. His own hips moved faster, rubbing his clothed erection against Jisung's straining cock.
"Then do it," Minho breathed, fingers tugging at Jisung's hair. "I need you, Jisung. I'm so hot— I feel like I'm going crazy."
With a low growl, Jisung flipped their positions, laying Minho down on the couch and settling between his thighs. His hands slid under Minho's shirt, palming the firm muscles of his chest. Minho writhed under his touch, back bowing to press his body against Jisung's.
"P-please," Minho gasped as Jisung circled his nipples with teasing fingers. "More. I need more."
Obliging the needy omega, Jisung pinched and rolled the sensitive buds between his fingers until Minho was a panting, writhing mess beneath him. Only then did he move lower, pressing kisses down Minho's stomach as he tugged the omega's shorts off.
Minho lifted his hips to help, kicking the clothes away once they were around his ankles. Jisung took a moment to admire the omega's nude form—toned muscles dusted with a light sheen of sweat, flushed pink skin, a soft pale belly, and an achingly hard cock under his underwear. As he looked, he was left dumbfounded, staring between Minho’s open legs, wet with slick, making drool accumulate in his mouth.
"Jisung, I can't..." Minho whimpered, hands fisting in the couch cushions. "Please, do something—"
Jisung’s instincts quickly took over as he lowered his head and licked a fat stripe over Minho’s hole, hidden by the fabric of his underwear.
“Jisung! Alpha— take it off, please—”
Jisung didn’t pay him attention, lost in a trance as he licked Minho’s clothed hole, the faint taste of strawberries leaving him breathless, as he sucked on him and bit his thighs. After a moment, the stimulation was so much that Minho felt himself come in his underwear.
He tangled his fingers in Jisung’s hair, pulling his head from between his thighs until he could look the alpha dead in the eye.
“You—” Minho started, a little bit drunk on their mixed scents too. “What the hell— What came over you?”
“I— Sorry I didn’t listen to you, hyung, I—” Jisung tried to explain himself.
“You just made me cum!” Minho laughed a bit crazed. “In my underwear! I’m not even in heat yet, what the hell—”
“Hyung, I’m sorry—” Jisung tried again.
Minho ignored him, pulling his face near enough so he could silence him with a kiss. But as their lips met, he felt Jisung's still-hard erection pressing against him. Minho broke the kiss, looking into Jisung's eyes with a mix of desire and determination.
"Jisung," Minho whispered, his voice husky with need. "You're still hard. Let me take care of you."
Jisung blushed, looking away shyly. "No, hyung, it's okay. This is about you—"
Minho cut him off with another kiss, more insistent this time. "I want to feel you, Jisung.You can use me. Use hyung, come on. Please—"
Jisung hesitated, unsure. "But— I don't want to make it about myself—"
Minho smiled, running a hand through Jisung's hair. "It's not about you or me, alpha. It's about us. Let hyung feel you, please—"
With those words, Jisung's instincts took over. He pushed Minho back down on the couch, settling between his thighs once more. Minho could feel Jisung's hard length pressing against his clothed hole, and he moaned, arching his back to press against him.
Jisung started to move, his hips rolling in a primal rhythm as he rubbed his erection against Minho's clothed hole. He was like a dog in heat, driven by instinct and desire. Minho wrapped his legs around Jisung's waist, pulling him closer, encouraging him to move faster.
"Jisung," Minho gasped, his voice filled with need. "Harder. Faster."
Jisung obeyed, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He could feel the pleasure building in his body, coiling tight in his belly. Minho met his thrusts, his own hips rolling to increase the friction.
"Hyung," Jisung panted, his voice strained with effort. "I'm close—"
Minho reached up, pulling Jisung down for a kiss, their tongues tangling as Jisung's movements became more erratic. With a final, powerful thrust, Jisung came, his body shuddering with release as he ground against the omega.
Minho held him close. He smiled, a sense of contentment washing over him. He couldn’t stop the soothing feeling that came over him, his pre-heat-induced brain making him believe he was Jisung's omega, and Jisung was his alpha. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.
***
Minho woke up a few moments later, still on the couch, with a blanket dropped over his thighs. When he sensed no Jisung around him, he put his shirt on and got up, finding the alpha in the kitchen, also only in his shirt and clean underwear—only then making Minho realize he was strangely wearing a clean one, too. Jisung was making what looked like ramen.
“Why are you up?” Minho asked, making the alpha turn to him.
“Oh- You woke up,” Jisung smiled. That beautiful smile that made Minho sigh. “I just figured we should eat before the first wave hits,” he explained. “Obviously, I… don’t know that much, but—”
“It’s okay. Thank you.” Minho walked to him, pecking him on the lips. Jisung just nodded dismissingly, his cheeks already getting flushed.
Minho sat on the balcony, watching the alpha have his way with the stove. Jisung side-eyed him, staring at his exposed thighs.
“Any problem?” Minho teased him.
“Hm? Ah- No, it’s just—” Jisung messed with his words. “You’re just distracting.”
“Oh?” Minho smirked, lowering his head so he was facing the alpha. “Am I now?”
“Uh—” Jisung just stared at him, a little bit clueless. Then, he gave a step back, turning the stove off. “Look, hyung. The food’s ready, so— Uh— Let’s just—” He stuttered, getting away and setting the bowls on the table. Minho smiled at how cute he was and got off the balcony, taking a seat at the table and watching Jisung serve the ramen in his bowl for him. “Tell me if it’s any good.”
Minho hummed, and after having a spoonful, made an approving sound. Jisung smiled at him, and they ate in silence.
***
Minho woke up in a haze, his body burning with feverish heat. He tossed and turned on the bed, unable to find comfort. His skin felt too tight, his cock throbbing with an aching need that consumed him. He needed to be filled, stretched, bred - he needed Jisung.
Desperately, he reached out and shook the sleeping alpha, his voice a whimpering plea. "Jisung, please... I can't take this anymore. Need— need you inside me."
Jisung blinked awake, his eyes glazed over as he took in Minho's desperate state. He could smell the omega's need, the pheromones filling the air and clouding his mind. His body responded instinctively, his cock hardening and lengthening.
"Hyung..." Jisung breathed, his voice rough with desire. He pushed Minho back onto the bed, opening the omega's legs wide to expose his slick, needy hole.
Minho begged, his voice a needy whine. "Please, alpha... I need your knot. Need you to breed me."
Jisung positioned himself at Minho's entrance, the head of his cock kissing the omega's fluttering hole. Minho sighed in relief, his body already responding to the intrusion.
But then Minho remembered, the last vestiges of coherent thought breaking through the haze of lust. "Wait, Jisung. We need to use a condom. I'm not on birth control."
Jisung growled, his eyes flashing with frustration. "Hyung, please... Just wanna feel you... Need to be inside you," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
Minho laughed breathlessly, despite his fevered state. "I know, but we have to— Please, put on a condom."
Jisung groaned but complied, quickly sheathing himself before positioning himself at Minho's entrance again. With a single, smooth thrust, he was inside, and they both moaned at the sensation.
Their movements were frantic, desperate. Minho begged for more, his voice a mix of pleasure and need. "Harder, alpha— Please, give it to me harder."
Jisung obliged, his hips snapping forward with increased force. He leaned down, his teeth nipping at Minho's neck as he pounded into him. "Feels so good, hyung. So tight and wet— Fuck—"
Minho's nails dug into Jisung's back, urging him on. "Yes— Don't stop. Need you to breed me, alpha. Need your knot so bad—"
Jisung's movements became more erratic, his body driven by instinct and desire. He could feel his knot swelling, ready to lock them together. "Minho, I'm close. I can't hold back much longer."
Minho met his thrusts, his own hips rolling to increase the friction, his body begging for release. "Then don't. Give it to me. Knot me, alpha— Breed me, please please please—"
They were a tangle of limbs and desperation, their bodies moving in sync as they chased their pleasure, lost in the heat of the moment. Jisung's mouth found Minho's scent gland, sucking on it. Minho cried out, his body convulsing as he came, his inner muscles clamping down on Jisung's cock.
With a final, powerful thrust, Jisung followed, his knot swelling and locking them together. They both moaned, their bodies shuddering with release as they rode out the waves of pleasure, lost in each other's arms.
As they lay there, panting and spent, Minho nuzzled into Jisung's neck, pressing a kiss to his sweat-slicked skin. "That was… yeah," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
Jisung chuckled breathlessly, stroking Minho's hair. "Hm. Sleep, hyung."
Minho smiled sleepily, his eyes already starting to droop. As they drifted off to sleep, their bodies still entwined and locked together by Jisung's knot, Minho couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment.
***
Between the waves, Jisung found himself fucking Minho in every way imaginable. Surprisingly, even though he wasn't in rut, his body cooperated perfectly, as if Minho’s heated scent was pulling all the strings, guiding the alpha’s body to meet his needs.
By Jisung's count, it was already Minho’s fourth day of heat. Hopefully, soon the omega would be riding his last wave, and only then would they finally be able to rest.
This time, it hit Minho while Jisung was cooking. Unexpectedly, Minho hugged him from behind, trailing kisses down his neck and nuzzling satisfiedly into Jisung’s scent gland.
“Hyung—” Jisung tried to reason, his voice already thick with desire.
“Hmmm, alpha—” Minho purred, gently rasping his teeth against the younger’s neck.
“Let me finish this— Ugh—” Jisung attempted to convey, but ended up turning the stove off when Minho’s hand trailed down, groping his cock through his underwear.
“I can’t wait—” Minho murmured, already pushing Jisung’s underwear down. With his cock now exposed, Minho wrapped his hand around it, stroking him slowly. “Can’t you tell?”
“Uh— What—” Jisung tried to ask, his brain foggy with lust.
“Mmmmph—” Minho made a sound, biting a bit harder on his neck. “How wet I am already?” He finished, teasing. “Dumb alpha. Thought you could tell…” He continued to stroke Jisung’s length slowly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Ha— Hyung, please—”
“You won’t come like that, Jisungie,” Minho told him, now nibbling his earlobe. In a swift motion, he rolled a condom onto Jisung’s cock. “If you want to come, you’ll have to knot me.” He smirked.
Jisung groaned, his hips snapping forward as he drove himself deep into Minho's welcoming heat. The omega was so tight, his inner walls gripping Jisung's cock like a velvet vice.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Jisung growled, pounding into Minho with increased fervor. "So tight and wet for me."
Minho could only moan in response, his hands scrabbling at Jisung's back, nails digging into his skin. The alpha's thick length was hitting all the right spots inside him, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up his spine.
Jisung's thrusts were becoming more erratic as his own desire took over. He could feel his knot swelling, ready to lock them together. "Gonna knot you so good, hyung," he promised, voice rough with lust. "Gonna fill you up until you're dripping with my seed—"
Minho's moans grew louder, more desperate. "Yes yes yes— Give it to me. Breed me, mark me as yours, please— "
Their movements became frenzied, a tangled mess of limbs as they chased their pleasure. Jisung could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he fucked into Minho's tight heat.
"I'm close, hyung," he grunted, teeth gritted with the effort of holding back. "Come with me. Let me feel you come on my knot, please—"
With a final, powerful thrust, Jisung buried himself to the hilt inside Minho and came with a shout. His knot expanded fully, locking them together as he filled the omega with his seed.
Minho cried out, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave. His inner muscles clamped down on Jisung's cock, milking him for every last drop as he shook and shuddered with pleasure.
They collapsed together, Jisung careful not to crush Minho beneath him. They stayed there for a long moment, panting and spent, basking in the afterglow.
"Thank you, Jisungie," Minho murmured, nuzzling into Jisung's neck.
Jisung smiled and pressed a kiss to Minho's temple.
Minho smiled weakly, already feeling sleep tugging at him. "Hopefully this is the last wave," he mumbled. "I don't really think I can take much more of this."
Jisung stroked Minho's hair soothingly, his touch gentle and calming. In the quietude of the moment, he carried Minho to his bed, laying them down comfortably. Their bodies, still locked together by Jisung's knot, found a perfect fit as they settled into the softness of the mattress. With a contented sigh, they drifted off to sleep, their breaths syncing in a rhythmic dance.
***
The next day, Minho woke up feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. His body ached, but not unpleasantly—it was the kind of soreness that came after something intense, something that left him feeling whole. He was in his bed, lying on his side, and immediately noticed Jisung curled around him from behind, one leg draped over his own in his sleep. The calm, familiar scent of the alpha wrapped around him like a blanket, and Minho sighed, too content to even think about complaining.
Carefully, he turned to face Jisung, adjusting just enough so they were now lying face to face. Morning light was slipping in through the windows, casting soft shadows across Jisung’s peaceful, sleeping face. Minho found himself staring—no, admiring. His heart felt so full it ached. He just liked Jisung so much.
His mind briefly wandered back to how he’d woken after his last heat: cold and alone, with Yongbok hovering in panic, trying to shake him awake. And now—this. Warmth. Safety. Waking up in the arms of an alpha he liked, one who had taken care of him so tenderly. He truly felt blessed.
“Huh—morning, hyung,” Jisung murmured groggily, eyes fluttering open to meet Minho’s gaze. Then they shot open wide. “Wait—are you okay? Is it another wave—?”
Minho laughed softly, heart melting at Jisung’s immediate concern.
“I’m fine, Jisungie. Really,” he said, pulling him in closer. “I think that last one was actually the last wave. You can relax.”
Jisung let out a breath of relief and melted into Minho’s arms, making a happy little noise.
“You know,” Minho teased, his voice low and affectionate, “for your first time, you actually did great.”
Jisung groaned in embarrassment and buried his face in the crook of Minho’s neck.
“Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not! It’s not every alpha who can handle an omega in heat like you did, especially out of rut” Minho grinned, voice full of praise.
“Hyuuuung,” Jisung whined, nipping at Minho’s neck lightly to shut him up.
Minho only laughed again and reached up to card his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Thank you for trusting me,” Jisung said after a moment, his voice softer now. “This… this could’ve gone really badly.”
“It couldn’t ever be bad if I’m with you, silly,” Minho replied, fingers still stroking through Jisung’s hair, his voice full of affection.
—
One year later
“Come on, Jisungie, go open your presents!” Minho said excitedly after Jisung had blown out the candy flames on his cake.
“I have to say, I totally beat Minho-hyung this time,” Hyunjin boasted, sticking out his tongue. “You can’t top my gift!”
“Stop it, Jinnie,” Jisung rolled his eyes with a grin. “I’ll like everything you guys got me.”
“It’s fine, alpha,” Minho said confidently, giving Hyunjin a pointed look. “Because I know mine is the best gift here.”
“Oh my God, enough from the two of you,” Yongbok groaned, effectively ending the playful argument as Chan chuckled beside him.
“I’ll open my beautiful boyfriend’s gift first, okay? Wait your turn,” Jisung teased Hyunjin, making his best friend pout dramatically.
“Let’s see…” Jisung said, building suspense as he shook the box Minho handed him, trying to guess what was inside by the sound. Minho smirked, fully aware he wouldn’t figure it out.
Giving up, Jisung opened the box curiously—only for his grin to falter when he saw what was inside. His eyes lifted to Minho’s, searching for signs that this was a joke. But Minho only nodded, his expression soft and sincere.
“Hyung— Is this— Are you serious?” Jisung asked breathlessly, drawing the attention of the others.
“What is it?” Chan asked, unable to hold back anymore.
Jisung lifted the small piece of fabric and the pregnancy test from the box, showing them off with wide, stunned eyes and a glowing smile. “Hyung’s pregnant,” he announced joyfully.
Shock rippled through the group, but none more visibly than Yongbok, who rushed to Minho and pulled him into a quick but emotional hug. “Oh my God, hyung—congrats! I can’t believe it!”
Chan, seeing the emotional wave coming, gently tugged his mate back. “Come on, darling. Let’s give them a moment.” He ushered Yongbok and Hyunjin away discreetly.
Jisung set the items down on the table and immediately wrapped his arms tightly around Minho. Only then did Minho start to sob in earnest.
“I—Are you happy, alpha?” he asked, voice shaking, unsure.
“How could I not be happy, baby?” Jisung responded in disbelief, stepping back slightly to cup Minho’s tear-streaked face, gently wiping at the omega’s cheeks with his thumbs.
“It’s just that... I know we didn’t plan it,” Minho cried. “I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t think about what I’d do if you weren’t ready—if you didn’t want it—”
“Stop being silly,” Jisung murmured, voice thick with emotion. “I love you. I’m so happy I could die. I can’t believe—we’re going to be parents.” His hands framed Minho’s face with so much care, and he peppered kisses across his cheeks before pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “This is the best birthday ever.”
Minho smiled against his neck, nestling into the spot where Jisung’s claiming mark rested, letting out a breath of pure relief and joy.
Just outside the apartment, standing near the door, Hyunjin wiped his eyes and mumbled to Yongbok with a watery smile, “Maybe... maybe Minho-hyung did give Jisung the best present after all.”