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The sink digs into Jeonghan's spine as Seungcheol presses up against him in the grimy club bathroom. His mouth is on Jeonghan's before he can ask what is going on. Despite the taste of whiskey on Seungcheol's tongue, Jeonghan can smell the heavy flare of his scent. He doesn't know which to blame for his dizziness.
One moment, he had been leaning in to talk to Hyungwon because they're in a club and the music is loud; the next, Seungcheol had been between him and Hyungwon, eyes flashing wolf-yellow before grabbing Jeonghan's arm and tugging him into the bathroom.
Outside, the bass thumps, shaking the ground. One hand is on Jeonghan's neck, tilting his head so Seungcheol can lick into his mouth. The other travels down Jeonghan's body and tugs at the button of his jeans.
Jeonghan breaks off the kiss with a gasp. "We're in public, Choi Seungcheol."
"I locked the door." Seungcheol noses down Jeonghan's neck. His scent flares again, and he licks a wet stripe on the sticky skin there.
"What's gotten into you?" A moan escapes Jeonghan; he has always been sensitive there. Even more so now that Seungcheol's pheromones are affecting him.
Seungcheol's fingers pull at the collar of Jeonghan's shirt, freeing more skin for him to lick at. "I don't like how you smell," he mutters.
"What?" Usually, it is to the contrary: he is well aware of how much Seungcheol enjoys his scent.
"You smell like him."
"Who?" Jeonghan's eyes flutter as Seungcheol mouths at his collarbone. "Hyungwon?"
A sharp burst of pain right as he says the name. Teeth digging into skin, sinking in until they almost hit flesh.
Jeonghan instinctively jerks back, though he isn't able to go very far with Seungcheol's hold on him. "Did you just fucking bite me?"
"Mine," Seungcheol growls, nose to nose with Jeonghan. His eyes have gone golden again.
Stupid alphas and their possessiveness. It has always been worse with Seungcheol—the baby alpha who saw an omega he liked, clamped down, and never let go. It had been playful then, and Jeonghan had been too indulgent. He liked being the favorite toy; liked the attention and liked Seungcheol too much in ways he could never manage to properly say. The biting died down once he did learn how to express those feelings, but it seems that some things never truly disappear.
But it's also different now. There is no amusement in Seungcheol's expression.
He dips his head back down to lap at the fresh bite. He hasn't dug in deep enough to draw blood, but Jeonghan knows it will leave a mark nonetheless. The residual sting of pain makes it more sensitive. His breath catches, and a trickle of slick drips down his cunt.
He's not the only one affected—Seungcheol's cock presses into his thigh, hard and throbbing despite the layers of clothing between them.
They really shouldn't—Seungkwan will blow a gasket if he finds out he brought them out on a rare night and they're doing this in the bathroom. But Jeonghan's a couple shots in, and his body is pleasingly light. It's getting hard to think. He just knows he likes the weight of Seungcheol on him—his need, his heat. He craves it, really.
Seungcheol flicks open Jeonghan's jeans and traces a finger over the underwear underneath. He dips down further and rubs against the wetness that is starting to soak the cloth. Jeonghan's cunt pulses, and any annoyance he might have had flies out the window.
"Okay, fuck," Jeonghan says. "We need to be quick."
Seungcheol wastes no time freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers. Jeonghan doesn't even do that—he shoves his pants down and shifts his panties aside as Seungcheol lifts him onto the sink. The fat head of Seungcheol's cock fits into Jeonghan's slick-soaked cunt with ease.
The position they're in is not optimal; Seungcheol is not able to sink in as deeply as he's used to, but the drag of his cock against Jeonghan's walls is divine. The pleasant buzz of alcohol heightens Jeonghan's arousal, this giddy knowledge that they're doing something illicit. He throws his head back and whines. Seungcheol's hurried thrusts bump his head up against the mirror, shaking his vision, and Jeonghan's eyes slip shut. Though the music in the club is so loud it vibrates the sink, Jeonghan can still hear Seungcheol's ragged breathing as he leans in to kiss Jeonghan.
It is even messier than before, everything forced into disarray because of the harsh pace at which Seungcheol pumps into Jeonghan. Uncaring of the saliva strung between their lips, he trails his mouth down to Jeonghan's neck again. Jeonghan feels a hot breath ghost over his scent gland, and his eyes slip open slightly.
Seungcheol's eyes are blown open, nearly glowing with intent. Blindingly bright with want. His teeth scrape against Jeonghan's skin.
Jeonghan jerks back, shoving a hand where his neck was, forcing Seungcheol's teeth to sink into the bony flesh of his hand. Seungcheol's eyes widen.
He used to do this when he was upset at Seungcheol. Seungcheol would always apologize first, whether he knew what he had done wrong or not. He would try to make it up, gums itching for his favorite toy, and Jeonghan would shove his hand, his arm, anything but the soft places Seungcheol wanted to leave his mark. Give him a taste of what he was searching for, but nothing more. This is all you get. A place where other people have touched. I still taste like them, don't I?
It was a dangerous game that they had played. Jeonghan could stop playing altogether and leave him with nothing to latch his teeth onto. Seungcheol was always free to walk away and find someone who would offer themselves up. But giving up was something neither of them had ever been good at.
They are still joined, Seungcheol's cock buried in Jeonghan. It pulses even now.
Jeonghan hooks his knees around Seungcheol. He drags him closer, sinking deeper inside of his slick heat. "Do I still smell like him?" he murmurs.
A low growl rumbles from Seungcheol's throat. He shakes his head.
"But?"
Seungcheol's teeth lift slightly from Jeonghan's hand. He's left imprints there, a memory of his canines. "Still wrong."
"Why?" Jeonghan squeezes around Seungcheol's cock. He drips from the place where they are connected. His body aches for more. "I smell like me, don't I?"
"That's not enough." His eyes flash. "You should smell like me."
For an alpha like Seungcheol, it is not enough to get rid of the memory of other people. Drunk on whiskey, drunk on jealousy, drunk on Jeonghan's scent, he is stripped down to his most basic instincts. He wants to consume, wants to use those sharp teeth to tear into what he loves and swallow them whole, so only he can possess them. This hungry love of his, all-consuming. All for Jeonghan.
Doesn't he know that he has all of Jeonghan already?
Slowly, he withdraws his hand. Seungcheol stays still, a statue made of burnished bronze. The sharp glint of his wolfish canines matches the flickering glare of his eyes as he watches Jeonghan slide a hand along his neck. A human shudder as his nails dig into the soft skin at the juncture of Seungcheol's shoulder.
Jeonghan tilts his head, exposing his scent gland. "Come here, alpha," he croons. "And mind your teeth, m'kay?"