Work Text:
Hao and Hanbin had something of a sugar-sweet romance blossoming between them from the moment they met. They were stuck together like glue; if one of them walked into a room it was very likely the other would come wandering in a moment or so later. Everything was so natural, like it was the compelling force of fate that brought them together in the same place at the same time.
Whenever they have free time, they spend it with each other. There have been countless late nights after rehearsals where it was only Hao and Hanbin left, the other members eagerly packing up their stuff and dispersing to their own after work routines. The pair would use the excuse of wanting extra practice just so they could sit in the empty dance studio where their whispers and laughter echoed off the mirrored walls.
Lounging around the dorms consisted of Hao and Hanbin always within an arm’s reach of each other. Hao would find himself sitting on the couch with a cuddly Hanbin tucked into his neck, inhaling the alpha’s saccharine grapefruit scent; Hanbin so graciously went into great detail to tell Hao exactly what his scent was like since the alpha didn’t know himself.
Hao was born without the ability to pick up on scents emitted from pheromones. His mother told him there wasn’t a definite reason as to why it happened, but it didn’t make him any less than. Hao just worked harder to study facial expressions and body language to make up for what he lacked. Since he’s dealt with this ailment for so long, it normally doesn’t bother him as much. Hanbin is also an angel walking this Earth who makes Hao feel like he’s constantly on cloud nine. Every single part of himself is cherished and loved by Sung Hanbin; that’s the best thing Hao could ever ask for. This love makes him feel complete.
Hanbin feels similarly. He’s told Hao the insecurities he’s carried into their relationship regarding their subgender dynamics. Hanbin knew Hao’s scent wouldn’t have the same exact effects on him as they would another alpha or an omega. His body can’t automatically cater to what Hao may need. There would be moments where Hanbin felt like he wasn’t enough for Hao, but Hao would never let those moments linger too long. Hanbin learned that not everything has to be the perfect picture he was painting in his head. In fact, the two of them got to know each other deeply on so many different levels that those superfluous little thoughts floated away.
The bottom line is Hanbin loves Hao exactly as he is and Hao loves Hanbin exactly as he is. Their dynamic just worked. There isn’t a world where they aren’t the missing piece of each other’s puzzle.
—-
Hanbin chews on the tip of a ballpoint pen he grasps in his hand, so tightly his knuckles were washed over with white. The meeting was important, discussing the hefty upcoming schedules the group has for end-of-the-year award shows, but his attention feigns in and out; everyone’s voices dull into soft murmurs. His body suddenly feels like it’s in overdrive. His attention span is the least of his worries.
His lips smack loudly as he feels around the dryness of his mouth. With a sharp breath, he sits back until he’s propped up with the support of the chair he’s sitting in. Everything is becoming blurry with a drip of anxiety settling deep within his chest.
“Hanbin-ssi,” a voice breaks through the oncoming turmoil in Hanbin’s mind and body.
Hanbin blinks, eyes shifting towards one of the staff members staring right at him. “O-oh sorry. Yeah, um, I’ll make sure the other members are updated on the schedules for this week. I’ll get everything done.”
The staff member narrows her eyes; Hanbin is not very convincing in acting as if he had any idea what was currently being discussed.
His anxiety picks up as everyone else’s attention shifts towards him. His anxiety heightens like he’s at the top of a rollercoaster ready to drop straight down. This isn’t like him at all. He’d be taking notes of what the members had coming up so he could relay it perfectly back to the eight of them.
“Well great! This was sooo nice I will tell the members about…yes! This schedule, so fun, they’ll love it. I love it! I need to get home now,” Hanbin rambles with a big, forced smile on his face. Judging by the staff’s faces, he seems to have made them disoriented enough with the uncharacteristic act that he can leave without any holdups. Perfect.
—-
Before the subtle creak of the front door opening could even finish, it slams shut just as quickly. Hao startles from where he’s tending to their indoor hanging plants tucked away in the corner of the living room.
“Hanbin-ah?” Hao calls out.
A couple seconds of nothingness pass until a loud thud can be heard at the kitchen island counter. Hao puts the watering can down to investigate his boyfriend’s unusual silence.
“Hanbin-ah, why aren’t you answering m—” his voice falters upon the comically abnormal sight playing out right in front of him. “Okay, help me out here. What’s happening?”
Hanbin moans in discomfort and flicks the knob of the battery-powered fan up to the highest setting. Beads of sweat huddle together along his forehead with some strays trickling down to his chin. It isn’t so out of the ordinary for Hanbin to run hotter, but never to this extent. The overload of foreign sensations in his body has him zoning in and out of his surroundings. He knows Hao is hovering over him from where he’s slumped in the chair and that he is being talked to, but it’s so hard to maintain focus while feeling so ill. He tries to answer in verbal noises like grunts and groans to show he can hear and lacks the power to conjure up a coherent response. “S’hot,” he pathetically huffs out.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hao spring into action, running over to the freezer to pull out an icepack. He lets his eyelashes flutter closed now that his boyfriend seems to have the tiniest bit of a grasp on this vague yet serious impending doom.
The blurry thoughts come to a halt when his nervous system is shocked by the sharp coldness on his bare, damp skin. A quiet gasp falls from his lips as he involuntarily arches his back and slams the palms of his hand on the marbled countertop. “Sorry,” Hanbin’s sheepish apology whispers out.
“Nothing to be sorry for, baby. Do you want to tell me what’s going on or wait until you cool off a little?” Hao’s eyebrows knit together with a mix of worry and confusion. Hanbin left their apartment this morning seemingly fine and in typical sunshine-energy-Hanbin fashion; what illness silently attacked him from this morning to now? Situations like these would be so much easier to pacify if only Hao was able to decipher scents. It’s not like the beta ever had a very distinct one, according to the man himself as well as their friends, but he still has one nonetheless. Hanbin described it to him as something like fresh laundry, but it didn’t fluctuate in sweetness or bitterness like scents did for alphas and omegas. Sometimes Hao can detect the smallest hint of the scent if he nosed his way to the crook of Hanbin’s neck or the pulse point on his wrist close enough; maybe it was Hao’s optimistic imagination convincing him he could.
Hanbin’s breathing begins to even out. “I don’t even know what’s going on. It came out of nowhere. I was fine all day until I wasn’t? My head hurts, I can't think.”
He weakly lifts up the mini fan he made a staff member at the company buy. Everyone there bore their eyes into Hanbin’s skull yet didn’t say much about his apparent physical condition. Awkward, but expected. They wanted to mind their own business and not involve themselves in personal matters. Some staff members dug around the other rooms until they found this battery-powered fan Hanbin could lug around.
“In the middle of work, too. God, this is so embarrassing. Maybe it wasn’t noticeable, right? You think?” Hanbin murmurs hopefully.
“Oh! I mean if we’re ignoring the sweat stains in your armpits and the patch on the back of your shirt then no, my love, not super noticeable.”
Hanbin’s eyes flick to the side, staring at Hao for a few seconds before letting his cheek lay against the cool surface of the countertop, letting out a dramatic whine at Hao’s teasing.
Hao suppresses a chuckle with an exaggerated, pouty frown and places his hands on Hanbin’s shoulders. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Hanbin-ah. Everyone gets sick,” Hao tsks softly as he gently massages his thumbs into the warm skin.
The heat radiating off Hanbin was concerning; Hao has helped him through plenty of illnesses and his fevers have never felt this high. Softly, he brushes his fingertips across the back of Hanbin’s sweat-covered neck to directly feel just how hot the skin is burning.
“Let me take you to bed,” Hao states with no room to argue, even though it seems like Hanbin was barely able to quip out any disagreement anyway. “Gyuvin-ah is staying with Ricky in his and Matthew’s dorm tonight, so it’s just the two of us.”
Just the two of us. That fact settles nicely into Hanbin’s chest. His eyes squeeze closed for a few more seconds before he slowly pushes the chair out and holds onto the counter for support.
“Here.” Hao swoops in with a secure arm around Hanbin’s waist.
A quiet moan escapes Hanbin’s lips as the touch of the alpha sends an electric shock through his body. His nostrils flare, taking in the comforting tangy scent pouring out of Hao, knowing the alpha was unintentionally trying to soothe him.
Hao guides Hanbin all the way to his bed before letting go of his waist. He takes a once-over at the other once he’s settled in bed and tries to decide a diagnosis for this illness. The frigid season oftentime brings about a lot of sicknesses and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time either of them caught a nasty head cold from the weather. This seems to be more serious than that.
Hanbin’s cheeks are beyond flushed. His short bangs are sticking to his damp forehead while beads of sweat roll down his temples. Fever. No doubt about it.
“Maybe try taking a nap? I’ll make you some soup and get medicine ready in the meantime.” Hao reaches behind Hanbin to situate the pillows so he can sit up if needed. “Good?”
Hanbin lets out a deep breath and nods weakly against the pillow. His heavy eyelids didn’t need to be told twice.
Hao smiles softly, closed-mouth as his lips stretch upwards. The overhead ceiling fan was running on the highest setting to create a cooling breeze against the hot, sweaty skin. A light throw blanket from their stash hidden in the closet is folded neatly beside Hanbin’s head in case he wakes up and decides he’s chilly; Hao doesn’t think it will happen, but who knows how his body will change throughout this fever.
He leans forward and plants a delicate kiss to the top of Hanbin’s head. “Sleep well, my baobei.”
With that, he steps out into the hallway and exhales a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. Call him dramatic, but whenever Hanbin is off in any way, whether it be in a sour mood or sick, it also throws Hao off. Their shared connection extends further than most people may see on the surface. Sometimes the couple joke that their hearts share the same rhythm, synced together to beat at the same time with the same force.
He saunters back into the kitchen, hands on his hips as he scans over the fridge and cupboards, contemplating where to start. A simple, light soup when you’re sick is always the easiest solution. A drink with electrolytes in it would also help since Hanbin seems to be sweating every ounce of fluid he has out of his body. Hao nods to himself with satisfaction. His inner alpha rumbles in his chest at the mere idea of caring for his mate during a time of need.
Preparing lunch offers an opportunity to stew in thought. It really is a blessing to have found his perfect match, his partner in crime, the love of his life. Hanbin is it for Hao; there is no one else in this world that could ever make him feel even a quarter of the love they have for each other.
Of course he would never wish for hardships to plague their path, but when the inevitable bump in the road does appear, it allows Hao to placate the innate need to show Hanbin he is cared for. His alpha awaits for the next time he can prove himself as if he hasn’t done so time and time again.
His hums float in the air as the soup on the stovetop simmers. He’s so focused on perfecting the meal that he almost misses the sudden twinge in his stomach. Almost.
He turns the burner off and steps back with his hands frozen in the air. He glances down, noticing a rush towards his crotch.
What the fuck?
He readjusts himself in his pants and rolls his eyes. The apples of his cheek are painted with a rosy pink from embarrassment of not having control. An unexpected mixture of arousal and possessiveness washes over him. He plucks his phone out of his pants’ pocket to confirm that his rut isn’t due anytime soon. His calendar shows a long gap before his next one is due. He doesn’t feel like he’s in pre-rut and his cycles were fairly regular. No way would pre-rut let alone his actual rut would sneak up on him.
There’s no reason as to why his body should be betraying him like this; nothing about this situation was arousing in the slightest. His body is acting on its own accord much to his dismay. He has a sick boyfriend to take care of!
Choosing to ignore whatever just happened, his attention returns to prepping the soup of solace: the cure Hanbin needs in order to begin his recovery. Whatever viral bug is attacking his poor boyfriend’s immune system will dissipate once the hearty soup touches his stomach.
Hao grins, pleased with himself for being able to care for his mate. He likes to imagine in this moment, his scent is thick in the air, wafting beneath the bedroom door to fill Hanbin’s nostrils and calm him.
My Hanbin-ah must be sleeping well.
—-
Sharp, searing pain.
Body set ablaze with aches and cramps, twisted with a desperate need of something. Hanbin can’t quite place it in his sleep-ridden mind.
His eyes squint open and it only takes a beat until these unwelcomed sensations come crashing down on him. A loud groan springs from his mouth, his breath coming out in frustrated pants. It feels like there’s an untouchable itch beneath his skin; something that felt like a part of him, yet he can’t name what it is and why he doesn’t have it under control.
The feeling makes him anxious. This isn’t right. There must be something seriously wrong this time. Does he need to go to the emergency room? Is this even happening right now? The most important question yet, what is happening?
“H-Hao,” Hanbin mewls out weakly.
He attempts to sit up, only to go crashing back down onto the pillows. Despite the pain, he can only think about Hao. He’s never felt this level of need before. If Hao isn’t in this room within the next minute or two, Hanbin feels like he could break. Being clingy is nothing new for Hanbin, but it’s never been like this before. His thoughts are consumed with Hao, Hao, Hao and it is as if he’s having a physical reaction to the alpha’s absence.
Hanbin rubs his teary eyes with the back of his hand and sniffles. A sweet scent infiltrates his nostrils. He frowns, rolling onto his side so he’s facing the bedroom door. He sniffs again. The smell makes him think Hao’s in the kitchen baking up a storm, maybe to fill the boredom of Hanbin being sick in bed. This won’t do.
“Hao? Hao, come here!” Hanbin raises his voice, panicked.
He doesn’t have the time to wonder what’s going on out there before hurried footsteps come jogging over to the door. It swings open with force to reveal a concerned Hao, his thick eyebrows furrowed with uneasiness and eyes wide with a subtle—as subtle as it can be—tint of red. Hao’s alpha is scratching at the surface.
“Hanbin?” Hao fusses. He stumbles towards the bed and kneels down to be at Hanbin’s horizontal height. “What’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
Hanbin involuntarily whimpers, that nagging feeling deep inside of him slightly unclenching now that his alpha is to the rescue. “No! No ambulance needed. Just you.”
Hao nods fervently and places his hand on Hanbin’s soft cheek. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. You’re okay.”
Hanbin settles back into the pillows, staring up at Hao’s glowing orbs. The alpha’s eyes were so captivating when they were like this; Hao teetering between his full consciousness and the alpha scratching at the surface. His eyes usually only flashed red during his rut cycle or if he’s feeling particularly overprotective. Hao’s eyes were always nice to look at—dreamy, alluring in a way that one glance has you locked in. So beautiful…
“Hello?” Hao waves his hand in front of Hanbin’s face. “Earth to Hanbinnie? You’re freaking me out here. I don’t think this is the flu anymore.”
Hanbin blinks, the fuzzy headspace clearing just enough to zone back in on Zhang Hao. His head tilts to the side to nuzzle into the palm of Hao’s hand. The small touch would be enough comfort to ride out any other illness, but that nagging feeling goes right back to work. Pain, anxiety, and something akin to arousal thrum through his veins. The arousal is different from how it ordinarily manifests and Hanbin isn’t so sure if it even is arousal; the only indicator that he has is the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, but tipped off with fierce cramps. He wants Hao’s touch despite feeling as if he’s about to pass out and possibly combust into flames.
Unsure silence fills the bedroom. Hanbin can barely pinpoint any clear thoughts let alone theorize what could be happening to him. Hao is staring so intensely it looks like he’s trying to fetch Hanbin’s soul and combine it into his own. A twisting cramp is what it takes to break the unnerving quiet.
“Ah!” Hanbin cries out, arms hugging around his stomach as he folds forward. He’s had his fair share of upset stomachs and praying for the moment it goes away, but this isn’t the same. With each twist of his poor abdomen comes that misplaced surge of arousal. It’s weird; he’s in so much pain—pain that he doesn’t enjoy—yet it’s like his hormones are laughing in his face and giving him another issue to deal with during this turmoil.
He shoots one of his arms out to fist a tight grip onto Hao’s shirt. His signature cool demeanor when he isn’t ready to let anyone see him struggle and start to worry is slipping. Slipping so quickly that Hanbin thinks he may be losing his mind. Logical thinking begins to distort and shatter as whatever the hell seems to be controlling him battles his normal self.
“H-hurts so bad. Please make it stop,” his voice nearly comes out as an anguished cry. “Please. Please, Hao, I can’t take it anymore. I…I don’t know what’s wrong.”
If a heart could literally and audibly shatter, Hanbin is almost positive he would’ve heard Hao’s do just that. Hao looks utterly helpless. The alpha frantically searches the room until his gaze lays upon Hanbin’s phone, snatching it at lightning speed. His thumb trembles along the keyboard as it searches on Naver. “I’m gonna figure out what’s going on, okay? Squeeze my hand to help with the pain if you need to,” Hao says while unfurling Hanbin’s grip from his t-shirt and enveloping their hands together.
Hanbin shakily holds onto it, ignoring the fact his own palm is wet with sweat. Focus on Hao. Focus on Hao’s face. Pretty Hao. Alpha…
He squeezes Hao’s hand with force at the next needle-sharp pain.
“Holy shit! Ow!” Hao reacts without thinking. He quickly sends an apologetic look at Hanbin. “Right, you’re in a lot more pain than I am. Sorry, you’re just very strong, hehe.”
“What does the internet say? A-am I going to be okay? Hao, Alpha, please.”
Hao side-eyes Hanbin for a split second before returning to the phone. There are various articles popping up under the search for Hanbin's symptoms. Some were about the flu or a stomach virus like they originally suspected, but Hanbin was having more severe symptoms than what was described. Hao inhales deeply as he continues skimming through the search engine.
He lets Hanbin’s question go unanswered for the moment. The answer has to be somewhere among all of these links. The better way to figure out the actual problem would be to call their doctor’s office and see if Hanbin could be squeezed into their busy schedule for an emergency telehealth appointment. Hao sighs, swiping out of Naver and finding the office’s number in his saved contacts.
“W-what are you doing? What is it? Oh my god…it’s bad, isn’t it? Hao-hyung please—”
Hanbin’s beginnings of a panic attack are quieted by a tap on the back of his clammy hand. “You need to take a deep breath. I think instead of me doomscrolling on here and getting probably inaccurate information that we should call a doctor. You don’t have to go into the office or anything, I’ll just explain your symptoms and see what they think,” Hao explains calmly.
Hao leans on the edge of the bed to get back onto his feet; he needs to be prepared to potentially run a few errands to pick up whatever medicine the doctor may suggest. The phone screen feels warm against his ear as the dial tone sings out boringly. He watches Hanbin close his eyes and roll onto his other side.
There’s an abrupt pause before muffled shuffling fills in the other end. “This is Dr. Choi on the line, how may I assist you?”
“Good evening, Dr. Choi! I’m actually calling on behalf of my partner. He came home from work today saying he has sharp cramps in his abdomen, an obvious fever…oh and very sweaty! Like it was going through his shirt and—”
Hanbin clears his throat from the bed, where he’s now propped up on his elbow and shooting a glare towards the alpha. Hao shrugs and mouths an I’m sorry! to him.
Hao’s voice drowns out as Hanbin lays back down. His body feels like it’s in overdrive, set off by essentially nothing at all yet making him feel everything at once. A part of him knows his body was trying to tell him something. Changes are being made that he isn’t wary of at this moment in time, but they were certainly there. The crinkles dotting his eyes deepen; overthinking is his strong suit that publicly displays itself on his face. A blessing and a curse; Hanbin describes it as the latter but Hao adores the easy-to-read expressions because they’re like his version of detecting emotional changes instead of scents, which is how he explains it to Hanbin.
Hanbin quickly gets swept away in daydreams with Hao as the main character. His precious Zhang Hao who he has loved since the moment they met. His precious, caring alpha. His.
“Are you sure? H-how am I supposed to tell?” Hao’s shaky voice is like a cold glass of water splashed over Hanbin, snapping him out of his daze.
Hao’s eyes are wide with worry. Dr. Choi is going over simple instructions on how to go about this. The “this” in question being the chance Hanbin is presenting. A late bloomer, as the doctor puts it.
The back of his hand presses against Hanbin’s forehead once more to check if his temperature fluctuated at all. Hanbin’s skin is still taken by a fireplace of warmth and beads of sweat. Hao relays this information back to the doctor, hiking his shoulder up to press the phone against his ear so both of his hands are free.
“Do you smell anything different about his scent?” The doctor’s question makes Hao momentarily pause. His alpha is never happy when his lack of sense of smell gets brought up, it makes him feel inadequate, but he has to remind himself it doesn’t define him. Hanbin couldn’t care less if Hao can pick up his scent or not, it’s the love and attentiveness that counts. Hao repeats this mantra in his head before responding.
“I can’t…I’m not able to pick up on people’s scents, but let me ask him.” Hao gently pats Hanbin’s cheek to grab his focus. “Can you smell anything besides me?” He balances the tone of his voice to remain composed, not wanting to increase any anxiety.
A beat of silence passes. Hanbin languidly blinks up at Hao. All of the nervous whines and rushed comments deflated out of Hanbin and all that is left is the hazy, confused, and still in pain version of him. Hao feels his own breath hitch.
“Smell?” Hanbin clarifies like he can’t grasp what exactly he’s being asked about. “Smells sweet. Like cinnamon rolls kinda. Did you bake for me?”
Hao pokes his tongue out to lick over dry lips. What Hanbin is describing is a huge indicator that what Dr. Choi believes is happening is probably actually happening. Okay, no time for panicking. My Hanbin needs me.
“No I didn’t bake anything, but I did cook you some lunch. I can get it for you in a second. There’s something we gotta figure out first, though.” Hao offers a tight-lipped smile and walks over to the bedroom doorframe to finish out the phone conversation.
Hanbin watches Hao huddled in the corner and speaking lowly so he can’t hear him. As much as he wants to listen in on the conversation about what’s going on with his own body, he wholeheartedly trusts Hao. They’ve known each other on such a deep level for a long time it would be so hard not to trust the alpha. Whatever the problem is, Hanbin is positive Hao has his best interests at heart and will fill him in on everything. It isn’t like Hanbin was really up for an impromptu over-the-phone doctor’s appointment, anyway.
Another syrupy scent pours out to blend with this undetermined sugary one. This one though, that citrusy sweet grapefruit, was very familiar, like a warm blanket wrapping around him to assuage his inner turmoil. Hanbin’s eyelashes flutter in a fight to stay alert and avoid slipping into that heated stupor he somehow keeps finding himself in since the second he walked into the apartment door.
Luckily, Hao’s off the phone and setting it down on the bedside table. He sits on the edge of the bed and goes right back to caressing Hanbin’s cheek. Hanbin shuffles himself just enough that more of his back is propped up with the help of pillows. He peers expectantly at Hao.
“You know those cinnamon rolls you mentioned?”
This is an interesting approach on breaking the news that he’s sick with something serious, Hanbin thinks.
“I didn’t bake anything. What you’re smelling is yourself.” Hao puts his hand down and visibly gulps. “What are you feeling right now? Physically and emotionally.”
“Hungry,” Hanbin sighs dramatically.
Hao’s lips twitch and resolve into a straight line. “Hanbin, seriously? You know what I mean!”
Hanbin musters up strength to playfully nudge Hao’s arm. “Kidding. It’s hard to explain the emotional part. Physically I’m clearly overheating and there’s these sharp pains in my lower stomach?” He stops himself to assess the sensations plaguing his tired body. “Brain fog? I don’t know I—I can’t stop thinking of you even though you’re right here and it’s like I need to crawl out of my skin to get into yours.”
It’s Hao’s turn to goggle, stunned by the confession. His eyes grow darker as his scent spikes with an intense huff of pride and love. His back straightens and his head nods to signal Hanbin to carry on.
“Can’t focus on anything else. I’m confused, what’s happening to me?” Hanbin can smell that cinnamon dessert scent changing; it smells like burnt brown sugar almost. “If you’re not baking then what’s that smell?” His face crumples at all of the bewilderment.
“Hey, hey. Take a deep breath for me, Bin-ah. I know this is all so confusing and maybe a little scary, but let me explain some more. The doctor said these are pretty much textbook symptoms of presentation.”
“No that’s impossible because—”
“Let me finish,” Hao interrupts kindly with a small, forgiving smile. Anything to keep things from going sour. “If you were actually sick, we would know what it is by now. You’re not coughing, blowing your nose, or anything like that. The smell you’re talking about is kinda what confirms it. You’re just a late bloomer.”
Hanbin urgently rolls about in the bed and kicks the comforter away. His frantic hands roam the surface of his body, a desperate attempt to convince himself this isn’t real and he’s fine. A late presentation was never on the cards; he was a beta. He’s always been a beta. That’s why he didn’t present when everyone else his age around him did. Presentation, that’s crazy talk.
Hanbin feels a strong pressure against his shoulders. He blinks up owlishly to face Hao’s soft-turned-serious face. The smell of tranquil grapefruit juice infiltrates his nostrils. His muscles go limp and his mind clouds. Hao will take good care of him. It’s okay…everything is okay…
Hao catches the exact moment he can tell his alpha is trying to placate his poor boyfriend. This is going to be a hard thing for Hanbin to process and, quite frankly, it’s a bit difficult for Hao to even process. It’s been a common fact in their lives that Hao is the alpha who was born without the ability to smell pheromones and Hanbin is the beta in their relationship. Nothing about it is unusual to them; it’s just them.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Are you scared of presenting? Do you know what you’re presenting as right now?” Hao tries to question Hanbin while he’s sated by comfort.
Hanbin decides to lay his legs across Hao’s lap and grab onto Hao’s arm, an obvious show of Hanbin craving physical connection. Closeness is what is going to ground him.
“This isn’t supposed to happen. I’m a beta. I’ve always been one,” Hanbin audibly gulps. His eyes are glossy with the becoming of tears. “It’s weird if I change. Everyone sees me as a beta, not a stupid late bloomer. That’s embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? You don’t have to be on anyone else’s timeline except your own. Change can feel scary, sure, but it’s not gonna change how the people in life view you as a person. You’re still Hanbin.” Hao swipes the pad of his thumb along the apple of Hanbin’s cheek, ready to catch any stray tear from falling.
“Things between us could change,” Hanbin whispers, the true fear revealing itself.
“Nothing could ever change the love I have for you, don’t be silly.”
Hao finally relents to his own instincts and carefully maneuvers Hanbin to make room for himself to lay on the bed with him, selfishly to act as Hanbin’s shield from the rest of the world. They face each other while Hao’s back is to the door. Their views are only the other and that’s where Hao wants them to stay. He can’t let Hanbin go another second thinking presenting is bad for him or for their relationship.
Hanbin lets the words seep into his skin and grasp onto his bones. Love is his and Hao’s foundation—the one thing they never doubt. Getting confirmation that he’s in the midst of presenting comes with such a strange emotion; it’s one that is not a symptom of the presentation itself, but more Hanbin-specific. He told himself he had to let go of the version of him he thought he would be, alpha or omega. The people he is constantly surrounded by are all confident in their subgenders and Hanbin is more often than not the only beta in the room.
The title of beta is now in the past. The beta Hao loves is no longer; he’ll love a new version now. Hanbin has to learn how to be okay with the drastic change.
“You don’t care that I’m n-not gonna be a beta anymore?” Hanbin seeks the reassurance repeatedly given to him.
Hao pecks his soft lips in the center of Hanbin’s forehead. “I promise you I’ll love you no matter what.” He brushes the tips of their noses together lightly. “Let me get you that lunch I promised.”
Hao moves to push himself up and out of bed until he’s stopped by a loud whine. Hanbin wraps his legs around Hao’s waist and tugs him down so the alpha collapses on top of him. The lock on him is snug enough where Hao accepts defeat, not that it would take any convincing, and relaxes.
“Okay, so lunch later then, all good. You must need your alpha,” Hao teases and dips down to plant a chaste kiss to Hanbin’s lips. He swallows down Hanbin’s needy moan with a subtle smirk against his mouth. As expected of the situation, Hao is aware of how insatiable Hanbin might become and clearly his boyfriend was already getting worked up.
Hao breaks their kiss to look down at Hanbin fondly. A giggle rises from his throat at the sight of Hanbin surging forward to chase Hao’s lips. He puts a stern hand on Hanbin’s chest to prevent him from closing the gap just yet.
“This is why I felt so off in the kitchen. My alpha is reacting to your presentation.” Hao brings his hand up to Hanbin’s chin, holding it steady and pressing his thumb in.
Hanbin is teetering on the edge of alertness and losing himself to Hao’s touch entirely. “Huh?”
“You just need your alpha to take care of you, isn’t that right?” Hao tilts Hanbin’s head back slightly and initiates a trail of sloppy kisses along his jawline. Hanbin’s naturally sensitive and in this state, it’s game over. Every brush of Hao’s lips elicits a breathy moan from Hanbin’s. Hao reaches his exposed collarbone, deciding it’s the perfect canvas to showcase some personal artwork. His teeth ghost over the skin as he laps his tongue over it, sucking a lovely bruise right on it.
Hanbin tangles his fingers through Hao’s hair to try keeping his composure. He’s gripping onto it tightly while sighing out Hao’s name as if it would slip away from him at any given second. Thankful for the leverage his legs have in this position, he bucks his hips forward. Both of them hiss with pleasure when the front of their tented pants come together. “More, ngh, more please,” Hanbin begs.
Hao would be a fool to resist the wanton pleas. His fingertips glide along the embroidered hem of Hanbin’s shirt before lifting it up and over his head. Hanbin’s body glistens with a thin sheen of sweat and Hao can’t help but to lick his lips. He reattaches his lips to Hanbin’s hot skin, peppering kisses from his chest to his navel.
Hanbin arches his back and clutches the sheets with both fists. “S-stop teasing.”
Hao bats his eyes up at Hanbin and smiles right up against his inner thigh. “I can’t wait for you to see how amazing you’re gonna feel when I help you through this.”
The alpha dives back down and uses his teeth to pull the waistband of Hanbin’s pants and boxers down, finishing the rest of the job with his hands to get the articles of clothing off. “Relax for me, Bin-ah.”
Hao nudges Hanbin’s legs apart with his knee only to freeze when he notices something. They’ve been intimate more times than Hao can count yet this is something entirely new.
At this point, Hanbin is in the throes of his presentation. He can’t quite piece together exactly what he’s experiencing to determine what his newfound subgender is; it’s the least of his worries in the heat of the moment. “Hao, now is really not the time to tease m–” his grumbling is interrupted by Hao’s two fingers sinking in between Hanbin’s legs. “Finally! You tease too much. You think you’re so slick.”
“Literally,” Hao answers and moves his hand away after verifying exactly what he suspected.
Hanbin lifts his head from the pillow and squints at Hao’s hand. “Oh…is that?”
“Slick,” Hao breathes out in awe. “You’re my omega!”
The information comforts and scares Hanbin all at once. This is it, this is who he is and what has been awaiting him for this long. He doesn’t believe he understands the first thing about being an omega since he shooed that idea away long ago. The solace comes from Hao’s instant reaction to figuring it out. The alpha seems over the moon. Hanbin knows Hao would be this excited even if he presented as an alpha. Hao is just excited to be a part of this monumental moment in Hanbin’s life.
Hanbin breaks out into a tiny grin. Hao’s giddy energy is contagious enough to dissolve the worries. “Your omega. I like the sound of that.”
Hao can’t help but to crawl back up to kiss Hanbin, a spark of fire and exhilaration igniting between them. He goes to rest his hand down on Hanbin’s waist then realizes his fingers are still covered in slick. A lightbulb goes off in his mind and he’ll blame this on the fact that his beautiful omega is in heat for the first time, meaning this is Hao’s first time helping Hanbin through it. Makes perfect sense to why Hao is a bit crazy.
His slick-soaked fingers make their way towards Hanbin’s mouth. Hanbin eagerly opens his mouth to accept and mewls in annoyance when Hao shakes his head. “Keep your mouth closed this time,” the alpha directs. Hanbin obeys with ease, always eager to please. Hanbin closes his mouth and observes with intense interest to see what his alpha has in store.
Hao uses his forefinger and middle finger to dot the slick along Hanbin’s lips. One of the benefits Hao has drawn from his scent problem is his other senses seem stronger to make up for it. He may not be able to smell Hanbin, but he sure as hell can taste him.
He wipes the excess across Hanbin’s chest. Hanbin’s pink lips are glossy, like he just got done applying a shiny lipgloss. Hao wants to growl at how beautiful the entire situation is. Hanbin is a dream. Hao gets a hands-on encounter.
Hao leans in, his breath fanning across Hanbin’s face and making the omega shift with impatience. His tongue swipes across Hanbin’s bottom lip. A burst of buttery brown sugar cinnamon dances along Hao’s tastebuds. Sweet and addicting. Hao discovers one of his weaknesses. He would do anything to have this taste bless his tongue forever. He hesitantly pulls away to take everything in, savoring the flavor.
“Wow, if you smell the same way you taste, then I understand why you were asking about those cinnamon buns earlier,” is all Hao manages to voice in his headful of sinful thoughts.
Hanbin’s lips part in astonishment. “You’re actually insane.”
“Only for my omega.”