Work Text:
The hotel is nice, at least.
He’s come to expect that - being one of the most successful producers in South Korea has spoiled him a little - but there is a comfort to this particular hotel that he appreciates more than the pure luxury of most other places that he’s stayed at. There is something to be said for sleek, modern furniture, windows that take up an entire wall, and a severe color scheme. Jihoon doesn’t know what it is, but he’s sure there’s something to be said.
This place, on the surface, isn’t much different from the usual hotels he stays at on his rare trips out of town. It’s not one of the chains; this one is independently owned and operated, which Jihoon clocks as soon as he steps into the room. A bellhop follows behind him, wheeling an unnecessary cart ostentatiously past him and unloading his two bags, which he would have been perfectly happy to carry himself.
But, he supposes, a man has to make his money somehow. He holds out his hand as the bellhop departs, a sizeable tip changing hands. Jihoon makes it a point to tip well, where appropriate. He’s never going to be able to spend enough to overtake the amount that he’s bringing in now, a fact which fills his accountant with glee and relief, he’s sure. Might as well pass around some of the excess when he can.
He steps into the room, sniffing absently. It smells clean, fresh. There are flowers on a small glass table, filling the room with a crisp white and green scent. He doesn’t know what they are - he’s not good at that sort of thing, identifying plants and birds and whatnot - so he takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. He likes the smell, wants to have some in his apartment at home. His assistant will know what they are and where to get them.
He tries out the couch, surprised by how soft it is. Most of the couches in these expensive rooms are hard as rocks, meant more for decoration than function. This one is soft, plush velvet and such a deep shade of green that it looks black in the dim light. There are two matching chairs set across from the couch, a low coffee table in between. All of the seating is strewn with pillows, some embroidered, some patched together from what looks like brightly colored silk scraps left over from making luxury hanboks. Jihoon is surprised by how much he enjoys the effect.
There is a small kitchenette, fully stocked with utensils and cookware, though Jihoon does not anticipate needing it. He doesn’t do much cooking when he’s at home, so he’s certainly not going to bother with it on a business trip. Jeonghan, who had booked the room for him, spoke very highly of the room service options here, and that will suit Jihoon fine.
As though triggered by his exploration of the kitchen, Jihoon’s stomach growls. He’s barely eaten all day, a bad habit that he always meant to get out of and never seemed able to shake. He eats after the gym - chicken or fish, rice, vegetables, nothing fancy - and usually manages to throw something together at night, but lunch always seems to elude him.
He certainly hasn’t had time to eat a proper meal today. Between a flurry of morning meetings, a quick visit to his studio to make sure he had all of his samples loaded up onto his laptop, another round of meetings, and then the early evening flight out of Seoul, he’s been on the move essentially all day. Chan, his assistant, had made sure he’d downed a protein bar and a bottle of water on the way to the airport, but now that he’s finally stopped moving, the force of his hunger commands his full attention.
There is a room service menu next to the phone in the bedroom. He leafs through it idly, his eyes running down the list of options without any real interest. He’s hungry but in an abstract way, without any specific craving to drive his choice one way or another. Eventually, he dials down and requests steak with some white rice. They ask him for his choice of banchan and he shrugs before remembering that he’s on the phone.
“You pick,” he says. “Whatever you like the best.” He hangs up before they can protest, enjoying the solid click of the old school wired telephone settling back into its cradle. Strange the kinds of things you miss even when you never really had them. They’d always owned wireless phones when he was growing up, sleek things that slotted back into their charging docks in near silence. The hotel phone is like the one his grandmother used to have, old and heavy and boasting a rotary dial on the front.
Next to the phone, tucked neatly between it and the lamp, there is another menu, this one much thicker. Jihoon picks it up idly, flips through it to kill time while they prepare his dinner. It’s discreet, well organized, and his lips quirk slightly as he reads the front blurb.
Welcome to our establishment, where we hope to provide you with the highest quality of service in order to ensure your time with us is both comfortable and enjoyable. Enclosed within, please find a list of our services - these may be ordered at any time of the day or night, as we understand such natural cycles can be unpredictable. They are also available to guests who are not currently in cycle, we ask only that you note this fact with the concierge so that we are able to provide you with appropriate service.
And then a list of services ranging from laundry to personal intimate massage. Jihoon snorts as he flips further into the book. Of course Jeonghan had sent him to a hotel that specialized in heat and rut services. He’s always fussed - gently, of course - about Jihoon’s habit of putting off or ignoring his heats in favor of getting work done. He’s heard it all before, about how suppressants aren’t good for him, about how it just makes his heats worse when they do come, but Jihoon is stubborn about it. His heats are bad no matter how many suppressants he’s taken during previous cycles, which Jeonghan knows from personal experience.
He’s getting into the meat of the book now, the pictures and blurbs for the escorts employed by - or vetted and approved by - the hotel. Omegas are listed first and Jihoon flips through those pages with little interest. It’s not that he doesn’t like other omegas, he and Jeonghan have had not infrequent encounters over the years that they’ve been friends. It’s just that… well, his heat is only a week and a half away and he can feel the urge for an alpha building up inside him.
It’s not exactly a feeling he enjoys. Jihoon is no fool, he knows what alphas see when they look at him. He’s muscular, dresses in masculine clothes, carries himself in a way that does not invite flirtation, and yet all alphas see is a pretty face framed by soft, long hair. No matter how he builds up his body, they all go wild over his height. He wears scent blocking patches even when he doesn’t need to, not to be polite but to prevent alphas from getting a nose full.
His flipping slows when he reaches the betas, but there are only two pages of them. Betas are rare and don’t often go into the sex work industry, at least according to Jeonghan. Jihoon supposes he would know; Jeonghan has been crowing recently about his latest find, some pretty boy American beta who’s playing hard to get.
Finally, he gets to the section of the book containing the pictures and bios of the alphas. Each page contains three and there are at least a dozen pages, front and back, glossy shots of men and women staring aggressively into the camera. Next to their faces, it lists their age, height, scent, and the types of heats they’re good at. Some of them are service alphas, the kind that like to pamper an omega, cook them meals and rub their backs. Some are more aggressive, the sort of alphas that wear a muzzle when they’re in rut to prove how dominant they are. Jihoon is more interested in the former than the latter, though admittedly some of the tough guy alphas are appealing.
He’s about halfway through the alpha section and growing frustrated, when he flips the page and stops short. There, the middle alpha on the page. His head is tilted back, his eyes half lidded, his full lips parted just a touch. He’s got long bleached hair pulled back in a ponytail, an elaborate tattoo up the side of his thick neck. His shoulders are broad, his biceps thick with muscle. A shiver tiptoes up Jihoon’s spine.
Name: Choi Seungcheol
Age: 28
Height: 5’10”
Scent: Winter Juniper
His hand is reaching for the phone before he realizes what he’s doing, and he dials the number listed in the front of the book. In a daze, he asks if Number 307, Choi Seungcheol, is available. The soft affirmative from the concierge makes his belly tighten. He can already feel wetness between his legs. Has he ever done something like this before?
“Are you currently in cycle, sir?” she asks. Jihoon can hear her typing in the background.
“No,” he says. “I’m a week and a half away.” There is a delicate pause, another flurry of typing.
“And when would you like Seungcheol to join you?”
Jihoon glances at the clock. His food should be here in ten minutes or so, and then he’ll need time to eat and time for it to settle…
“An hour,” he says. “No, two. Give me two hours.”
“Of course, sir,” the concierge says. “Seungcheol will be there in two hours. Do you require any services in particular?”
“Services?” Jihoon’s cheeks flame red and he’s glad that the soft-voiced woman can’t see him. He looks down at the book in his lap, tries to read the list of specialty services that Seungcheol offers but it’s like his eyes refuse to absorb the words. “No, nothing in particular. I just want him to fuck me.”
There is a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Jihoon stares in horror at the picturesque country landscape hung on the wall and wishes fervently for one of the chickens depicted in it to emerge from the painting and peck him to death.
“Of course, sir,” she says, after what feels like an eternity. He can’t tell if the faint tremble in her voice is laughter or horror. He can’t tell which one is worse. “Seungcheol is very good at that.”
+++
His food arrives shortly after he hangs up the phone, and Jihoon eats mechanically, shoving food into his mouth as he descends into an existential abyss of horror over what he’s just done. The food is good, much better than he expected from hotel room service, and he wishes that he hadn’t just embarrassed himself so that he could enjoy it more.
He checks his phone for the fifteenth time. Three minutes have passed since the last time and he heaves a sigh. It’s not too late to call back down to the lobby, to cancel the whole thing. But then he would have to talk to the concierge again and he’s not prepared to do that. Just thinking about it makes his soul leave his body a little.
Instead, troubled and annoyed with himself for being troubled, Jihoon heads out to the balcony. It’s huge, with a narrow private pool for swimming laps, a small outdoor seating area, and a truly breathtaking view of the city. He stares out at the lights, dazzled by the sprawl of it. He lives in a city, one that’s twice as big, but he so rarely allows himself time to enjoy it.
He leans against the railing for a while, focusing and unfocusing his eyes so that the lights swim and dance, blurring together in a neon streetlight swirl. A song tickles the back of his mind, too ephemeral now to bother writing it down, but he pulls out his phone, snaps some pictures. They don’t compare to the actual sight, but they will serve to remind him once he’s able to get back in the studio.
He’s too jittery to stay still for long, so he strips off and dives in the pool. The water is warmer than he’d expected but still a bit of a shock, and he swims laps until the buzzing in his brain quiets down a little. It takes longer than he’d like to admit, but by the time he hauls himself up out of the water, he feels more centered.
It’s fine, he thinks, toweling off his hair as he walks back into the room. I’ll just call back down and cancel that whole stupid thing.
He pulls on a pair of basketball shorts and reaches for the phone and then there is a firm knock on the door. He freezes, all of the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. That has to be Seungcheol. He was in the pool longer than he thought and it's too late to cancel. Fuck fuck fuck!
It’s fine, he repeats to himself. I’ll just tell him I’m not interested. I’ll just open the door and send him away.
Jihoon opens the door and looks up into Choi Seungcheol’s heavy lidded eyes and slow, lecherous smile, and his cunt clenches. He’s so wet he can feel it on his thighs, slick and sticky. He never should have ordered an alpha so close to his heat, god he’s an idiot.
“You gonna let me in or are we fucking in the hall?” Seungcheol asks. He’s got a low, smoky voice. Jihoon steps aside, gestures for him to come in.
He looks just like the picture in the book, sulky mouth, sulky eyes fringed with dark, down-swept lashes, long silky blond hair. His shoulders are broad, his neck and arms heavy with muscle. He’s got thick thighs, the kind that make Jihoon want to sink his teeth in, and his ass is so round that it’s all Jihoon can do not to reach out and smack it. He never feels like this, especially not about alphas. Choi Seungcheol is terraforming his brain.
“So,” Seungcheol says, “front desk says you just want me to fuck you.” His mouth curves in a teasing smile. Jihoon makes a concentrated effort to sink through the floor.
“I did say that,” he answers, faintly. Seungcheol takes a step forward into his space. He smells sharp and tart, like juniper berries and sun warmed branches in winter.
“Any preferences? Limits?” Seungcheol asks. “You got a safeword?”
“Do I need one?” Jihoon says, slightly alarmed.
“It’s not a bad idea in general,” Seungcheol says. One broad hand rests against Jihoon’s waist. His skin is bare - he never managed to put on a shirt - and Seungcheol’s palm is rough and warm. Goosebumps chase up and down, back and forth across his skin and he leans in close, one hand rising to press against Seungcheol’s belly. He’s not cut, but his body is hard with muscle. “If you don’t wanna do anything kinky, though, it’s not necessary.”
“Mmm,” Jihoon murmurs, leaning closer. He’s achingly aroused now; even his cock, which doesn’t usually get hard this close to his heat, is pushing against the front of his shorts. Seungcheol’s arm circles his waist, pulls him up against one of those thick thighs. Jihoon immediately begins to rut against it, unable to help himself. It’s not much relief, but god it feels good.
“Good boy,” Seungcheol purrs. Jihoon is immediately ashamed by the moan that escapes his lips, but the embarrassment just makes it more delicious somehow. “How about if you say ‘yellow’ if you need me to slow down and ‘red’ if you want me to stop?”
Jihoon mumbles assent as he tugs at Seungcheol’s shirt and then it all kind of becomes a blur. Seungcheol kisses him, tongue pushing deep into his mouth, and then his shirt is off and their skin is pressing together, Seungcheol warm and rough, Jihoon smooth and cool and white as jade.
He’s conscious of his feet leaving the floor, his legs wrapping around Seungcheol’s waist as he is carried to the bed. The sheets smell like lavender and Seungcheol’s fingers are thick as they slide up inside him. “So wet,” he murmurs against Jihoon’s ear, his voice thick with lust. “So pretty and wet, baby, you really need it, don’t you?”
“Please,” Jihoon manages to gasp. There are teeth at his throat, a low growl in Seungcheol’s chest, and the sound of it sends shivers down to Jihoon’s bones. Some small part of his brain is still yammering for him to call this off but it isn’t nearly as loud as usual and Jihoon is easily able to ignore it, especially when Seungcheol’s fingers twist and crook inside of him, rubbing against the sweet spot deep inside his cunt.
Seungcheol is a talkative alpha, murmuring nothings as he finger fucks Jihoon over the edge, rough thumb dragging slow circles around Jihoon’s clit. “Pretty thing,” he whispers, his voice deliciously low. “Sweet little omega, can you feel how wet you are, feel how easy you take my fingers, such a soft little pussy baby, and you’re so fucking deep, pretty thing won’t have any trouble taking my cock, will you?”
Jihoon, who can feel said cock grinding against his thigh, isn’t so sure about that. Seungcheol’s cock, like the rest of him, feels hard and thick and larger by far than any other cock Jihoon has ever taken. The thought of it is overwhelming, the twist and press of Seungcheol’s fingers, the sharp smell of him, and Jihoon throws his head back, grinding it into the pillows as his cunt clenches and twitches around the thick fingers inside.
“Good boy,” Seungcheol purrs. “That’s my sweet thing.” He growls softly as he withdraws his fingers and Jihoon watches in dazed desire as he licks them clean, his teeth long and white and sharp. “Taste good, little omega.”
“Fig leaves,” Jihoon murmurs. That’s what everyone says he smells like, fig leaves and, when he’s in heat, the fruit itself, juicy and tooth achingly sweet. Seungcheol laughs softly, nuzzling his neck.
“No, baby, you taste like pussy,” he says, and Jihoon flushes pink all the way down his chest. Seungcheol is already sliding down, hot tongue swirling around Jihoon’s delicate pink nipples. “But you smell amazing too. Sweet.”
And then he’s between Jihoon’s legs, pushing his thighs up and growling at the sight. Jihoon squirms, equal parts embarrassed and aroused. He knows what his pussy looks like, he stares at it in the mirror sometimes when he masturbates, pulling his soft, plump labia apart to expose the soft petal pink inside. He thinks of himself as a masculine omega, presents as such in his day to day life, and the contrast between that and the sweet, wet softness of his pussy is a source of both frustration and deep, longing arousal.
Seungcheol’s tongue drags up the sensitive flesh, teasing Jihoon’s aching hole, causing him to squirm against the mattress, little mewling noises escaping with every exhale. He is achingly empty and although Seungcheol’s tongue is soft and eager, Jihoon’s clit is already swollen and almost painful to touch. He screams, muffling it by biting down on his own forearm, as Seungcheol’s tongue reaches its target, lapping teasingly at Jihoon’s clit as he yelps and digs his heels into the bed.
A powerful arm drapes across his hips, holding him in place, and Jihoon almost chokes out red. It’s just so much, too much stimulation too soon after his first climax, and then Seungcheol tilts his head so that instead of up and down, his tongue flickers side to side across Jihoon’s tender clit. Pleasure blossoms heavy and sudden in Jihoon’s belly and instead of pushing away, his fingers wrap in Seungcheol’s long hair to hold him where he is.
Dazed, unable to focus on anything but the eager alpha between his legs and the empty ache deep inside, Jihoon nevertheless manages to curse Jeonghan for putting him in this position in the first place. Jeonghan, of course, will be delighted when he hears about all of this, should Jihoon choose to tell him. Ordinarily he would, Jeonghan is his closest friend, but he's feeling more than a little spiteful right now. Maybe Choi Seungcheol will be his little secret.
A tingle runs up his body, shivering his skin, and he whimpers, thighs tightening around Seungcheol’s head. As if taking that as a cue, the alpha pulls back, planting soft kisses against Jihoon’s aching pussy. “Not yet, baby,” he murmurs. His lips are wet against Jihoon’s thigh. “Not until I’m inside you.”
“Yes,” Jihoon gasps. His fingers are still twisted in Seungcheol’s hair and he yanks at it, drawing a laugh from Seungcheol. “That. Now please.”
“Lost your words?” Seungcheol teases, kissing his way up Jihoon’s torso. His hands fan out against Jihoon’s ribs, drag slowly up his sides and across his chest. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous, aren’t you? I’ve never seen an omega built like you…” His lips are soft against Jihoon’s nipple, kissing and sucking tenderly so that when he pulls back, the sensitive flesh is desperately hard and flushed a deep shade of pink.
“Thank you,” Jihoon sighs, closing his eyes as the alpha worries at his other nipple, teeth closing around it gently, nipping it into hardness and then holding it still so he can tease with his tongue. Each flick sends a pulse of warm pleasure radiating through Jihoon’s body, and each pulse ends in a deep ache between his legs.
“Look at you, baby,” Seungcheol murmurs. One hand slips up to knead and squeeze Jihoon’s chest while the other dips down to free his cock. It drags along Jihoon’s belly, hard and thick, the tip glistening with precum. Seungcheol’s scent intensifies, filling the room, and Jihoon moans softly. “Look at these tits. They’re so fucking fat I could push them together and fuck them, couldn’t I?”
An embarrassing squeal escapes Jihoon’s lips as Seungcheol rises up, his rough hands pushing Jihoon’s pecs together to form a soft valley. His cock drags between them, hot and hard and ready, and Jihoon stares up at him, mouth open in indignation. Seungcheol smiles lazily, lip curling up to reveal a gold tooth that gleams in the dim light of the room.
“You look pretty like that, baby,” he says, his voice a dark growl that reverberates in his broad chest. “Just tip your head down a little like a good boy.”
Jihoon stares at him for a long moment, fury radiating through every molecule of his body. He’s paying good money for this! He asked for an alpha to come up and fuck him, not tease and humiliate him! And yet…
He can feel how wet he is, how it is dripping out of him onto the sheets, smearing across the insides of his thighs when he clenches his legs together. Whatever this is, his stupid traitor body likes it, craves it. Jihoon is never out of control, never allows himself to be pretty and pink and submissive, and it occurs to him now, with this shitty alpha straddling him, fucking his tits, that maybe being pretty and pink and submissive is something that has been missing from his life.
So he tilts his head down a little and closes his lips around the tip of Seungcheol’s cock.
Distantly, he hears the alpha moan, but all of his concentration is focused on the sudden intrusion into his mouth. Seungcheol’s cock is thick and there is something about the way his lips stretch around it, the way he has to angle his head, arms tucked beneath it to support his neck, that burns through him like fire. He can feel the drag of Seungcheol’s shaft against his sternum so acutely that he’s shocked by his own sensitivity.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol sighs, and Jihoon looks up at him, dazed. They lock eyes and Jihoon is somewhat gratified to see that Seungcheol’s face is clouded with pleasure and need as well. His long hair falls across his shoulders in soft cascade and his lips are swollen and red as he fucks his cock shallowly in and out of Jihoon’s mouth.
“Good boy, pretty boy. Such soft tits baby, holy shit…” The constant stream of slightly slurred praise is somehow the most humiliating part, and every word that falls from Seungcheol’s lips sends a pulse of shameful pleasure straight to Jihoon’s swollen clit. He clenches his legs shut, grinding his thighs together in search of stimulation.
He doesn't know if Seungcheol notices his desperation or if he's decided enough is enough, but whatever the cause a rough hand cups his face, slapping him lightly on the cheek, and Jihoon opens his mouth obediently so that Seungcheol can withdraw his cock. He is immediately furious with himself and just as immediately forgets all about it as Seungcheol shifts back down, big hands gripping Jihoon's hips to reposition him.
"Ready, baby?" Seungcheol purrs, leaning close to nuzzle the side of Jihoon's face. He manages to gasp out a soft affirmative, hands rising blindly to tangle in Seungcheol's hair and pull him down into a bruising kiss. Seungcheol tastes like pussy, like his pussy, and Jihoon chokes back a sob, hips rutting up, seeking fulfillment.
Seungcheol obliges, sliding a thick arm beneath Jihoon's hips and using the other to position himself. His cock slides in with one smooth stroke, thick and long, and even as dripping wet as Jihoon is, there is a subtle ache in the burst of pleasure that accompanies the motion, deep and sweet and just on the right edge of painful. His toes curl in ecstasy and then sharp alpha teeth sink into the meat of his throat and Jihoon forgets himself for a time.
Seungcheol sets a steady pace, pulling out just enough to make Jihoon whimper, then seating his cock fully with every in-stroke. His teeth worry the line of Jihoon's throat, the curve of his shoulder, the soft swell of his chest, and the entire time, a growl rumbles in his chest like he's some kind of animal. Every motion is electric, every thrust feels like Jihoon is just on the edge of cumming.
"Please," he gasps. "Please, please, please, please…"
Seungcheol bites him again, bruisingly hard, and Jihoon wails in agonized pleasure. Everything feels good to his tortured, overly sensitive skin. The rasp of soft sheets against his bare shoulders, the tight grip around his waist, his own sweat slick skin grinding against Seungcheol's. The alpha's hair, long since freed from its hair tie by Jihoon's greedy fingers, sticks to the side of Jihoon's face as Seungcheol grinds his forehead against Jihoon's jaw, scenting him.
And then Seungcheol pulls out fully, leaving him empty, and Jihoon shoves himself up off of the mattress, furious and desperate. "Shh, baby," Seungcheol says, pushing his thumb into Jihoon's mouth to forestall any angry words. Jihoon bites him and he smiles, flashing that gold tooth again. "Roll over on your stomach, I need to get deeper."
He doesn't wait for Jihoon to agree or acknowledge the request; his hands are already on Jihoon's hips, lifting and flipping him so that the whole world spins for a moment. A pillow is thrust into Jihoon's arms and he burrows his face into it, inhaling his own sticky sweet scent, whining at the way it mingles with Seungcheol's sharp, aggressive alpha musk.
"Bite down on that if you need to, pretty," he murmurs, dragging his broad hand down Jihoon's spine, pushing at the small of his back so that he raises his hips up shamelessly. And then, as suddenly as he pulled out, he's back inside Jihoon, deeper than before, and Jihoon screams into the pillow, unable to stand this renewed assault on his senses.
Seungcheol fucks him hard, fast, his fingers gripping Jihoon's hips with a frantic intensity that will probably manifest tomorrow as dark purple bruises. The slap of skin is louder now, filling Jihoon's ears, and underneath it he can hear how wet he is. It's a slick, sticky sound, obscene in a way that Jihoon is not accustomed to in relation to himself.
He never gets wet like this, never, and he reaches down, fingers searching for his clit, circling his pink omega cock on their way. It's not hard anymore and a little alarm bell rings in his brain, but between the building ache in his belly and the thrust of Seungcheol's thick cock deep inside his eager pussy, Jihoon is struggling to do anything more than whine into the pillow and push his hips back, begging for more.
"Good boy, good boy," Seungcheol growls behind him. He looms over Jihoon's smaller body, using his broad chest to push him down against the mattress. "Open up, baby, open up for daddy's knot…"
A jolt of anxiety stabs through Jihoon's belly and crawls up his spine but it is quickly drowned out by the leg quaking need that crashes through him right after. He doesn't fuck alphas usually, and isn't the kind of omega that wants to, or even can, take a knot when he's not in cycle.
But he wants it now, he needs it. He craves it. He wants Seungcheol to push his cock so deep that Jihoon can taste it in the back of his throat. He hopes the alpha has a knot the size of his fist. The size of two fists together even, because if he doesn't get filled to bursting right. fucking. now. he's going to lose his mind.
"Wait, wait," he gasps, turning his head. Some part of him fights that urge, pushes it down, and the struggle to assert intelligent thought alarms him. "Can't take a knot yet, 'm not in cycle."
"Yes, you are, baby," Seungcheol says, kissing the nape of Jihoon's neck. He's bottoming out with every thrust now, grinding Jihoon into the bed, and Jihoon can feel the swell of his knot starting to form. Dimly, he realizes that tears are smeared across his cheeks, though he can't pinpoint when he started crying. "You're in heat. I can smell it."
That last is said with a snarl and then his sharp teeth sink into the back of Jihoon's neck, pinioning him, and Jihoon cums with a sharp scream.
It takes him by surprise. The pressure of his own pleasure has become the only sensation to him, that trembling tightrope edge that he couldn't quite tip over, and now that it has broken, now that his body is shaking, electrified with it, all he can do is sob and mewl and push back against Seungcheol. He spreads his legs as wide as they will go, desperate for the solid anchor of Seungcheol's knot.
Behind and above him the alpha is saying something but his words blur into nonsense. All Jihoon cares about is the swelling at the base of his cock, and he buries his face in the pillow, screams as he pushes his hips back. Seungcheol soothes him, stroking his sides, biting his shoulders tenderly as he slowly pushes his knot deep inside Jihoon's shivering, needy cunt.
The stretch of it burns and aches and Jihoon sinks his sharp omega teeth into the pillow over and over, chewing a hundred tiny holes in the pillowcase as he bears down. The breath sticks in his throat; he can't inhale or exhale until he's full and it's taking so long, like Seungcheol is trying to fucking torture him.
"Shh," the alpha growls. His voice sounds shaky, like he's trembling on the edge himself. "Almost in, baby, almost there, pretty thing. God, you're so fucking wet…" and then his hips push forward and he pulls Jihoon back and they are joined. He grinds his forehead between Jihoon's shoulders as his knot swells, anchoring his cock.
They climax together this time, Seungcheol snarling as he pours cum into Jihoon's aching cunt. His knot is huge, thick, too much for Jihoon and yet he can't stop rocking his hips against it, can't stop his pussy from clenching around it. His eyes roll back in his head as he twists and squirms beneath the weight of Seungcheol's heavy body, trying mindlessly to grind the swell of the alpha's cock against his g-spot.
"Be still," Seungcheol says, breathless. Jihoon can only whine in response as Seungcheol wraps an arm around his waist and rolls them both to the side. He curls up behind Jihoon, wrapping his arms around him and holding him until he stops trembling. Slowly, the madness of his own hedonism recedes and Jihoon closes his eyes, obscurely ashamed of himself for acting out.
"Well," Jihoon croaks. Every part of him is wet with something - tears and sweat and slick and cum - and he reaches down, fingertips skating across the swell in his belly. He pushes against it slightly, groans as Seungcheol's knot shifts inside him. The alpha growls softly and Jihoon laughs. "This is embarrassing."
"Is it?" Seungcheol's lips find the tender spots at the nape of Jihoon's neck, soothing the bruised, raw skin that his teeth left behind.
"I'm not supposed to be in heat yet," Jihoon mumbles. He's drifting off, so exhausted by the sudden onset of his cycle that the words come out fuzzy with exhaustion.
"Don't worry about it," Seungcheol soothes, his own big hand cupping Jihoon's belly over the bulge of his knot. He presses lightly and Jihoon whimpers, pleasure unfurling lazily in the pit of his stomach. Seungcheol groans softly, nuzzles the damp hair at the base of Jihoon's skull. "I can take care of you."
"Just you?"
There is a momentary pause, then Seungcheol's voice again, amused. "You usually need more than one alpha?"
Jihoon thinks back to his last heat, color touching the tips of his ears. He'd gone through three alphas in the span of four days; Jeonghan had been forced to smooth things over with the service that he'd used so that he wouldn't be banned for life. One of the alphas had actually cried.
"Yeah, usually…"
Seungcheol's laugh is warm against Jihoon's bare shoulder. "Okay, I've got some friends who work here too. We work well together, I can show you in the book tomorrow and you can pick one out."
"Are they as good at fucking as you are?"
"At least."
A shiver of anticipatory pleasure crawls up Jihoon's spine. "Mm, okay," he sighs, settling back against Seungcheol's chest. He's going to have to make some calls, reschedule some meetings, but that can wait until morning when he's not stuffed full of cum.
"I'll pick one when I wake up."
+++
His first call the next day is to Jeonghan.
"Hello, darling," Jeonghan coos. Jihoon pictures him wrapped up in one of those marabou feather robes, lounging on a pile of pillows while scantily clad alphas fan him with big palm branches. It's just the vibe he gives off. "How is the hotel treating you?"
"Well, considering I'm in cycle two weeks early, pretty well," Jihoon grouses. "I can't believe you sent me to a heat hotel."
"Yes, you can," Jeonghan says, but his voice is alert now, full of concern. "Did you say you're in heat? Do you need me to fly out there?"
In spite of himself, Jeonghan's immediate instinct to come take care of him fills Jihoon with warmth. He wants to be irritated that Jeonghan sent him here in the first place, but it was his choice to order up a room service alpha so close to his heat. He really should have known better.
"You don't have to come out, I'm fine," he says, cradling the phone against the side of his face. "I'm about to order a second alpha to take care of me."
"Okay," Jeonghan still sounds worried. "Are you sure? I can be there in a few hours."
"Don't you have a date with that American beta pretty boy?" Jihoon asks. The shower cuts off and he shivers, eager for Seungcheol to return from his morning grooming. They'd already fucked once, Seungcheol pinning him against the wall and slowly, agonizingly pushing his knot deep inside Jihoon's cunt once again. He'd carried him to the couch afterwards, Jihoon's legs around his waist, head on his broad shoulder, and they had kissed lazily, lapping at each other's mouths until the madness of Jihoon's heat had receded temporarily and Seungcheol's knot had gone down enough for them to detach.
It had been just under an hour since Seungcheol had wiped him clean and tucked him back in bed with some room service breakfast. He'd gone to shower and brush his teeth and call down to let the front desk know that they were dealing with an omega heat now. Ten minutes after that, room service had delivered a case of Pocari Sweat and a dizzying array of snacks and easy to prepare, carb heavy meals. Seungcheol had secured the precious cargo and then slipped away to shower.
Jihoon can feel himself getting ready again, can feel the ache and pressure building inside him. He's always been lucky that he's one of those omegas who experiences periods of lucidity during his heats. It's not especially common; Jeonghan tends to fluctuate between sobbing and giggling like a teenage girl during his heats and needs another omega there to hold and soothe him after he gets knotted. Jihoon can do without, but admittedly his least stressful heats have been when Jeonghan was in attendance.
"I do…" Jeonghan sighs, clearly torn between his desire to be there for Jihoon and his desire to conquer the pretty beta that has been evading him for months.
"Go on your date," Jihoon urges. "It'll be good for you. And you can check in with me after, okay?"
"Are you sure?"
Seungcheol sticks his head out of the bathroom, his long hair twisted up in a towel on top of his head. There is another towel tucked around his waist, but other than that he is bare, broad chest and heavy arms still slightly damp from the shower. Lust rises up in Jihoon, sudden and sharp.
"I promise," he says, just the hint of a growl in the back of his throat. On the other end of the line, Jeonghan laughs. Seungcheol winks at Jihoon and ducks back into the bathroom.
"Okay, okay," Jeonghan sighs. "Go tear your hired alpha apart. I'll call you tonight."
"Love you," Jihoon says, crawling to the end of the bed to try and catch a glimpse of Seungcheol again. His teeth ache to bite those broad shoulders. "I hope you catch your American."
"Oh, I will," Jeonghan promises, his voice slightly ominous. As soon as he hangs up, Jihoon tosses his phone across the room and slides off the bed. Seungcheol emerges from the bathroom again just as Jihoon reaches the door and the yelp he lets out when Jihoon grabs him by the shoulders and jumps into his arms would honestly be comical if Jihoon had any sense of humor at the moment.
"Now," he says, nails digging in to Seungcheol's back. He's so wet that he can feel it on his thighs. "Knot me."
"Holy shit," Seungcheol laughs, wrapping one arm around Jihoon's waist and using the other to support his hips. "Don't you want to shower?"
"No," Jihoon says. "Fuck me." He leans in close, sinks his teeth into the side of Seungcheol's neck. This is where it usually goes wrong with alphas, this early to middle phase of his heat where he gets aggressive and demanding. Alphas hate being bossed around by an omega, especially one that looks like Jihoon.
Seungcheol growls and for a second Jihoon thinks it's going to go badly for him. He braces for the retaliation, be it a return bite or getting tossed on his ass, but instead Seungcheol tips his head to the side, baring his throat.
Jihoon hesitates for a moment, shocked, then bites the alpha again. He's more gentle this time, worrying Seungcheol's smooth skin between his sharp teeth until there is a rosy flush up the side of his neck and a small purple bruise rising up. When they lock eyes, Seungcheol's pupils are fully dilated and his full lips look swollen.
"Oh," Jihoon breathes. "You like that."
Seungcheol growls again and the world tips and then Jihoon is on his back on the bed and Seungcheol is kneeling in front of him, face already buried between Jihoon's legs.
+++
They finally surface from the tangle of sheets and pillows several hours later, both sporting new bruises. Jihoon's pussy feels like someone has been at it with a meat tenderizer and he's never felt better. Languid, he drapes himself across the foot of the bed to watch Seungcheol cross the room for drinks and the sex worker menu.
"You have an incredible ass," he says. Seungcheol snorts, looks back over his shoulder.
"You know, I've actually heard that before," he answers, holding out a drink. Jihoon takes the bottle and opens it, downing half of it in one long gulp. "But thank you. Yours is pretty amazing too." He sits down next to Jihoon and Jihoon nuzzles up against him. It's the first time he's really felt the impulse to snuggle up to an alpha after getting bred and he's not sure how he feels about it.
His misgivings have to wait, though. It's time to pick out a new alpha.
Seungcheol thumbs through the pages, pointing out people that he knows and enjoys working with and Jihoon nods and takes them in. He's not really interested in female alphas (he's always been pretty firmly gay) and none of the male alphas catch his eye the way Seungcheol did until they reach the second to last page.
"What about that one?" he asks, finger jabbing at the book so hard that he almost knocks it out of Seungcheol's hands. The alpha in question is incredibly handsome, but so are all of the others in the book. What caught Jihoon's attention is the expression on his face, ostensibly the same alpha sneer that the rest of them wear, but there is something about this one, a sweetness in his brown eyes maybe, that makes Jihoon think that it's a lie.
This one isn't some asshole that mistakes being a bastard for dominance. This one is a puppy.
Name: Kim Mingyu
Age: 26
Height: 6'4”
Scent: Patchouli & Balsam
Seungcheol laughs softly, dropping a kiss on the top of Jihoon's head. "Mingyu? He's amazing," he says, and the fondness in his voice is almost saccharine.
"You know him?"
"He's my best friend," Seungcheol confesses, flipping the book shut. "I would have suggested him immediately but I didn't want to seem pushy. We work well together."
"Do you know if he's booked?" Jihoon tries desperately to sound casual but it's hard when even the usually logical parts of his brain are clamoring for alpha knot.
"I don't think so." Seungcheol leans across the bed, snatching his phone up off of the bedside table. "He wasn't booked when I talked to him yesterday, and he usually has Thursdays off." Seeing the expression on Jihoon's face, Seungcheol hurries to reassure him. "He'll come if I call him, don't worry!"
"Call him, then," Jihoon snaps, tossing himself back against the mountain of pillows. It wasn't quite a nest, but it wasn't not one either. He'd never been that type of omega, one that needed to be handled tenderly and surrounded by pillows and blankets and the clothes of his loved ones. He was fine with a service, fine with his bed.
At least, that's what he'd always told himself.
This is nice though. The bed is massive, big enough for at least six people and so soft, and Seungcheol is attentive, sweet and kind of goofy when Jihoon is in a downswing, big and growling and alpha when Jihoon is sobbing for his knot. He takes care of food and room service and cleaning Jihoon up and in return it's as if something has startled to life inside Jihoon.
He fusses with the pillows and blankets. He drags their clothes into the bed and tucks them all around him, behind and under pillows and blankets except for the overlarge black hoodie that Seungcheol had worn in, which he had wrapped around his body after Seungcheol detached from him this last time and still hasn't removed. He doesn't care to examine that, but he can hear Jeonghan's voice in the back of his head.
See, my Jihoon-ah, all you needed was to find the right alpha…
He drifts off, cushioned by the smell of Seungcheol's clothes and the awareness of his own satiation. He's never liked that feeling before, that fullness that comes from being knotted. He hates that his body, ignorant of the stringent birth control measures he's taken, holds an alpha's cum inside him in a desperate bid for pregnancy.
Jeonghan likes it, coos over the way his belly curves out ever so slightly by the time his heat is over. "It looks like I'm already pregnant," he sighs every time, long fingers fluttering over his smooth, soft skin. Jihoon knows it's part of the heat, knows that it's just hormones that make him that way, but he always found it a little upsetting. He always wondered what was wrong with him that he didn't feel that way.
He feels it now, though, content for the first time in his life to fall asleep full of an alpha's cum. He is thoroughly bred, if not actually pregnant, and his hand goes unconsciously to his belly, probing the hard plane of muscle to see if he can feel that swelling, to see if that imagined fecundity is finally something that doesn't raise immediate disgust and fear inside him.
He's not aware of how long he sleeps. Seungcheol removed all of the clocks from the room when they realized that Jihoon was in heat. "It's better that way," he'd said. "You won't try to keep to a schedule, you'll just listen to your body." He feels well rested, at least, warm and fuzzy, and when Seungcheol's arms slip under him, lifting him out of the bed, he murmurs a little but turns to settle against the alpha's chest.
One hand begins unconsciously to knead at Seungcheol's pectoral muscle and the alpha laughs. "They're not quite as big as yours," he teases, and Jihoon growls softly, snapping his teeth. "Oh, cranky boy! Does he need to get knotted again?"
"Yes," Jihoon grouses, peeling one eye open. The sun has started to go down. His stomach is empty, as is his pussy, and he squirms against Seungcheol's grip, trying to twist his head around enough to deliver a chiding bite to whichever fleshy bit of the large alpha he can get his sharp little teeth into.
"Too bad," Seungcheol says cheerfully, pushing the bathroom door open with his foot and closing it behind them with his hip. "It's bath time!"
The bathroom is filled with sweet smelling steam and Jihoon, briefly distracted from his mission to bully Seungcheol into knotting him again, shifts his attention to the scene in front of him.
The tub is full almost to overflowing with iridescent bubbles and arranged neatly around its broad rim are a variety of bathing products. Shampoo and conditioner, face wash, body wash, sugar scrub, sheet masks… scented candles, for fuck's sake. They twinkle from the artfully arranged shelves, from the corners of the tub rim, from the vanity counter. There are a few on the floor even.
"What the fuck?" Jihoon blurts out, struggling harder to get out of Seungcheol's grip like a cat that has just realized its anticipated treats are actually… well, a bath.
"What, you've never had an alpha take care of you before?"
"No," Jihoon says, maybe more emphatically than he should have because the look of pity that flashes across Seungcheol's face is both infuriating and somehow embarrassing.
Still, the bath does look inviting and whatever scent Seungcheol selected is pretty pleasant. Begrudgingly, Jihoon stretches out a leg, burrowing his toe through the mass of bubbles to the water beneath. It is almost scaldingly hot and a delighted shiver crawls up his spine at the prospect of cooking himself like a lobster.
Seungcheol lowers him into the water by increments, allowing him to adjust to the heat of the water until he is fully immersed. The heat seeps into his bones, warming him so thoroughly that he very nearly falls asleep all over again. There is a pillow attached to the back of the tub and he leans back against it, closes his eyes with a soft sigh.
"Do you want to bathe yourself or should I do it?" Seungcheol asks. There is a strange spike in his scent that Jihoon doesn't know how to interpret and his own flares anxiously. Seungcheol isn't like any other alpha he's ever met and he's not sure how to navigate this sudden desire to be pampered. This is more Jeonghan's area of expertise.
Jeonghan has always been the ideal omega, beautiful and elegant, aloof and perfumed and possessed of an enviable poise even in the most uncomfortable situations. Even when he's sobbing on Jihoon's shoulder during his heat, he's gorgeous and whatever alphas he has hired or invited over to take care of him flock around him like dogs, eager for his praise and attention.
It has never been like that for Jihoon. He is aggressive and prickly and no alphas stick around long enough for it to get to this point. Frankly, he's shocked that Seungcheol is even still here. The fact that he's trying to treat Jihoon like he's some kind of proper omega is insane.
"You can do it," he murmurs, the tips of his ears shading to a delicate pink. A moment later, he hears Seungcheol sorting through the bottles that he laid out and then broad, gentle hands cup his cheeks, massaging in face wash. Seungcheol rinses him, drapes a sheet mask across his face, moves on to his body. Jihoon, still mired in disbelief, relaxes into the treatment, telling himself its like when Jeonghan took him to a full service spa. He'd started out uncomfortable, but Jeonghan had patted his knee and told him that they were just doing their jobs, and he could relax into it.
That's all this is. Seungcheol is just doing his job.
He's practically asleep again by the time Seungcheol finishes bathing him. One foot, then the other, wrapped up by a soft kiss to the arch of his right foot. He opens his eyes at that, smiles sleepily. Seungcheol returns the smile and tosses in a wink as he stands.
"Mingyu should be here in about thirty minutes," he says. "I'm going to go make some food so we can get a little dinner inside you before you go crazy again."
Out of anyone else's mouth, Jihoon would have flinched at the word 'crazy' but Seungcheol says it with an anticipatory smile. Seungcheol says it like he wants it.
"You got any requests?"
"Meat," Jihoon answers. "Pork belly. And kimchi. And ramyeon." Usually he sticks to chicken and rice and plain vegetables, eating more for nutrition than anything else. He likes to work out and he chooses his meals to help gain muscle, not really for taste; he's not the kind of person that goes out of his way to sample new dishes and try exciting flavors. Mealtime is just another obligation to get out of the way so that he can work on his music.
Heats are another matter altogether, though. He craves spice and crispy, fatty cuts of meat and carbs. He wants fresh fruits and fresh fish and soft sweet bread full of mango paste. Fried rice and pajeon and gomtang, japchae full of fresh vegetables, bibimbap piled with thin sliced beef. All of the foods that he doesn't usually indulge in, but he isn't going to ask Seungcheol for all of that.
Pork belly and ramyeon is fine. It's good. It's more than an alpha usually makes for him.
"Sounds delicious," Seungcheol laughs. "Soak as long as you want, I'll send Mingyu to come get you when dinner is ready, yeah?"
Jihoon nods, his eyes drifting shut as Seungcheol slips out the door. Every muscle in his body feels relaxed right now, soothed by the intense warmth of the bath. He's so used to being tense when he's in his cycle that he doesn't know what to do with himself. It feels insanely indulgent to just float here in these perfumed bubbles but at the same time… why not?
Surely every omega deserves to be coddled during a heat! That's what general public consensus seems to be, anyway, though Jihoon is convinced it started as a marketing ploy. Even in his mother's time, omegas were expected to maintain their household through a heat. People didn't have time for life to grind to a halt, for the central member of the family to stop working or cooking or doing the laundry. The only exception was childcare, as everyone agreed that having young children around a heat was inappropriate.
(Alphas, of course, were another matter entirely. They got aggressive, couldn't be expected to go out in public and control themselves. That would be ridiculous and besides, an alpha rut was less common than an omega heat; most alphas have two per year, three at the max. Paid time off for ruts was law for nearly five decades before the same was afforded to omegas.)
It only started being standard practice for an omega to lounge around during heats once people realized you could sell all kinds of heat supplies and spa visits. Jihoon had always found the entire thing vaguely predatory at best, but he's starting to rethink that stance. Not the material aspect of it, but he's certainly enjoying the relaxation.
He's in the bath long enough for his fingers to grow pruney and the water to cool down enough that he is starting to get chilly. The bubbles are almost completely gone, his sheet mask long since stripped off and replaced with a light moisturizer. He is just sitting up and pushing himself up out of the water when the door swings gently in.
Jihoon looks up, expecting to see Seungcheol and instead seeing possibly one of the most handsome people he's ever seen in real life. Which is saying a lot, as he works in an industry notorious for its strict beauty standards. This, then, must be Mingyu.
He enters the bathroom with a broad, deferential grin on his face. His hair is short, fashionably shaggy in the front so that it falls in a glossy black wave across his forehead, and his skin is a gorgeous golden brown. He is broad and muscular, clearly someone who spends as much time in the gym as Jihoon does. His scent fills the room, overwhelming the fading smell of the bubbles and body wash.
The book had listed Mingyu's scent as patchouli and balsam but that was like describing a summer sky as blue; technically accurate but so lacking that it might as well have not been described at all. He smells like the sun on warm branches, like sap rising as the air warms from winter to spring. He smells earthy and spicy and a little sweet and Jihoon growls softly as Mingyu leans down to offer him a hand up.
"Oop," Mingyu says, pulling his hand back slightly and laughing. "Cheol said you were a little snappy, sorry. I should have introduced myself first, yeah? I'm Mingyu."
"I know," Jihoon answers, reaching out and grabbing the offered hand before Mingyu can retract it entirely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to growl. You just smell good."
"Thanks." Mingyu helps him out of the bath, drapes a massive towel around his shoulders, and then leans over to drain the tub while Jihoon dries off. He watches Mingyu speculatively as he does, wondering if his cock matches the rest of him. Out of the tub, standing next to each other, Jihoon is struck by how absurd their height difference is. Mingyu is easily almost a foot taller than him; Jihoon's head barely comes up to those well muscled shoulders.
I should kill Seungcheol for that, he thinks idly, even though it's his fault for not checking Mingyu's height in the book.
"Seungcheol told me this is an unexpected heat," Mingyu said, offering Jihoon a bottle of lotion. Thankful that Mingyu isn't as full service as Seungcheol had been - not that Jihoon would mind it exactly, it's just that they've barely spoken and he can't imagine getting lotioned up by a man he met five minutes ago. Jihoon obediently takes the bottle.
"Not entirely," Jihoon says. "I mean. I wasn't due for another two weeks, but…" He trails off. Mingyu seems intelligent enough, he can fill in the blanks.
"Mmm," he says, pursing his lips as he holds out a plush bathrobe for Jihoon to step into. It occurs to Jihoon (finally) that he has been standing here naked in front of a total stranger for the past five minutes and, belatedly, he experiences a surge of modest embarrassment. Quickly, he tucks his arms into the robe and yanks it shut around him. Mingyu doesn't appear to notice his discomfort.
"Can I ask a maybe too personal question?" Mingyu asks.
"I'm about to pay you to knot me and you want to know if we can get personal?" Jihoon chides, hoping that his tone is light enough that Mingyu won't take offense. Seungcheol doesn't mind that he's a little snappy, a little mean, but Jihoon doesn't know how Mingyu will react.
"Fair point," Mingyu laughs, holding the door open for him. Jihoon steps out into the room, exchanging the scent of sweet bubbles for the sizzle of cooking meat. He hadn't been hungry before but he is starving now. "Why did you hire Cheollie in the first place if you weren't in heat?"
Cheollie. Cute.
"Have you seen him?" Jihoon gestures to the other alpha. Seungcheol has his back to them as he cooks; his long hair is tied back in a ponytail again and he is wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tight white tank top. He looks good enough to eat and Jihoon's body begins the familiar tug of war between needing to eat and needing to have a knot so far inside him that he can barely breathe.
A soothing hand grips the back of his neck, strong fingers massaging as Mingyu leans close to nuzzle his jaw. "Yeah," he says softly, laughing a little as his teeth find the sensitive spot behind Jihoon's ear. "He's really sexy. I get it. You smell crazy right now, do you need me to take care of you?"
Jihoon battles himself and loses. He'd intended to sit down and eat like a civilized person before demanding more cock, but Mingyu must have smelled the spike in his scent as he watched Seungcheol. The truth is, he does want to get fucked but he wants Seungcheol, he wants those broad hands and the solid weight of him and the smell of cold, sharp air and snow on evergreen branches.
He nods, though, unable to resist the bottomless pit of need that is opening up in his belly. He can't be selfish like that, can't expect Seungcheol to be the only one taking care of him. Mingyu is handsome, he smells amazing. Seungcheol likes him. Surely that counts for something.
Mingyu guides Jihoon to the bed, fingers dipping beneath the hem of the robe, skimming the slickness between Jihoon's legs. It will be fine. Jihoon can stay on his hands and knees, face the kitchen. Watch Seungcheol while he gets fucked. That's totally normal and also reasonable.
Mingyu unties the robe and tosses it on the floor, baring Jihoon's perfumed skin. He squirms a little, twisting to look over his shoulder as he lowers himself onto the bed. Mingyu already has his shirt off and he's working on his jeans, unbuttoning them with a dazed, hungry gleam in his eyes. His sharp alpha teeth dimple his lower lip as they press into it, aching to sink into the back of Jihoon's neck.
He sheds the jeans and stands upright again and Jihoon almost laughs. Mingyu's cock is outrageous, thick and long and heavy, and there is already a slight swelling at the base, like he can't wait to anchor himself inside Jihoon and stay there for hours. There is an eager throb between Jihoon's legs and he leans forward on his elbows, back arched and legs spread.
Mingyu is on him before he can draw another breath. He expected growling, a hard hand on the back of his neck, forcing his head down, but Mingyu instead wraps himself around Jihoon's body. One arm braces on the bed, the other circling Jihoon's waist tightly, pulling him as close as possible. Mingyu whines softly as he nuzzles his way up and down Jihoon's shoulders, mingling their scents - earthy, spicy forest blending with sharp green leaves and honeyed fruit.
His cock grinds up between Jihoon's legs, dragging across his clit, rubbing past his own, much smaller, omega cock. Jihoon growls, pushes his hips back. He's at the point now where words have deserted him. He is ready for Mingyu. He needs to be bred.
The arm around his waist angles up so that Mingyu can cup his chest, squeeze his pectoral muscles and flick a teasing finger across his sensitive pink nipple. Jihoon moans, trying simultaneously to push into Mingyu's touch and grind back against his cock. Come on, he wants to say, just fuck me, I don't need fucking foreplay, just fuck me.
Gentle teeth on his shoulder send shivers of pleasure down Jihoon's spine and he gasps, twisting in Mingyu's grasp, desperate to feel something inside him. Tired of waiting, he reaches back, wraps his fingers around Mingyu's thick cock, positioning the head so that all the alpha has to do is push forward. Mingyu whines, a shudder wracking his big frame, and Jihoon, through the haze of his own lust, understands that his earlier assessment of Mingyu's picture was correct.
Seungcheol is a dominant alpha, not aggressive but assertive. He growls, bites, moves Jihoon's body where he wants it. He uses his strength as a comforting weight. He insists on providing, be it food, comfort, or sex. He's what most people would consider the ideal alpha.
Mingyu, by contrast, is a puppy, the ever elusive submissive alpha that shows up in a lot of porno but which Jihoon has never encountered in real life. He used to ask for one when requesting services from a heat agency, theorizing that maybe a submissive alpha would be able to tolerate his snapping and biting more than the standard issue alpha.
(Seungcheol, of course, had blown that theory out of the water. Jihoon still isn't sure what it is about him that makes him accept - even enjoy - Jihoon's pushiness. Hell, maybe he's a dominant alpha but likes to be pushed around in his private life. Jihoon's not judging.)
The way Mingyu whines and ruts between his legs, desperate to be inside him but equally desperate to be told what to do fills Jihoon with a rush of excited power. He squeezes Mingyu's cock, gasping and then laughing softly at the pathetic whimper that emerges from Mingyu's throat. Jihoon moves his hips, slowly grinding back against the head of the alpha's big cock. Mingyu freezes.
"Good boy," Jihoon whispers and Mingyu's arm tightens around his waist so suddenly that it very nearly squeezes all of the air from his lungs. He laughs again, pushes back again. The tip of Mingyu's cock dips inside him for a moment and they both moan. "You want me?"
"Mmmm," Mingyu mumbles, nodding his head so that his forehead grinds between Jihoon's shoulders, scenting him. Jihoon arches his back, pushes back further, pulls away again. Mingyu gives a frustrated little scream.
"Don't tease him!" Seungcheol chides from the kitchen. "Dinner is almost ready." The look he casts the both of them is infinitely fond, intimately tender. Jihoon wonders how many times Seungcheol's been on his hands and knees for Mingyu, teasing him. He wonders if they'll let him watch.
"Come on, puppy," he murmurs, pushing back and staying there this time. The tip of Mingyu's cock is a delicious tease and his cunt aches to have the rest of it buried deep inside. "Breed me."
Mingyu surges forward, pushing up inside Jihoon in one long, deliberate stroke. Again, it feels like the air is being squeezed from his lungs, though this time it is the sheer size of the alpha that does it. He's never been so full, never thought he could be so full. All he can do is whimper as Mingyu, given his instructions, starts to thrust.
Rational thought deserts him again and for the second time, Jihoon allows himself to float. His need, his pleasure, had been more frantic with Seungcheol; the start of his heat is always sharp, edges and angles, but he's easing into it now, entering the stage where he feels lazy, wanton. He wants to be full, he wants to be adored, he wants, above all, to be desired.
This is usually the stage where his heat goes wrong. The alphas from the agencies are used to omegas like Jeonghan, yielding and beautiful. Jihoon, a demanding perfectionist in his regular life, is even more of one when his hormones are unbalanced. Much in the way he expects a singer to follow the beat, he expects an alpha to follow his moods, and the alphas for hire in Seoul are woefully unprepared for an omega who needs to be worshiped the way that Jihoon needs to be worshiped.
Mingyu, though, instinctively seems to know. Where to put his hands, when to ease Jihoon to his elbows so that he can push deeper, how to support his hips, how hard to bite as he leaves a string of pretty bruises like beads along the sweep of Jihoon's ribcage. His thrusts are deep and slow and the pleasure that it wakens in Jihoon's belly is the same, rich and slow like honey.
He closes his eyes, pillows his head on his forearms. He's crying again, tears leaking down his cheeks, breath hitching in his throat as pleasure overtakes him. Even his fingertips are heavy with it; he feels like a doll, unable to move or speak or even think, his only purpose to bring Mingyu inside him and keep him there. All of the motion, all of the back and forth, in and out, all of it is just to open him up. Soon they'll be joined and he will be more full than he's ever been in his life.
Tender fingers stroke his cheeks, dragging through the tears, and the smell of snow and sharp, crisp juniper spikes in his nostrils. Jihoon manages to crack one eye and then immediately closes it again, letting out a strangled sob at the sight of Seungcheol's face.
Soft lips brush his cheeks, strong fingers tangle in his hair as Mingyu pushes him further and further into mindless pleasure. His legs wobble and give out and Mingyu drapes across him like a weighted blanket, grinding so far in that Jihoon genuinely can't catch his breath. His vision goes starry for a moment and Mingyu shifts, one arm curling under Jihoon, and the way his cock shifts inside Jihoon pushes him over the edge.
He cums with a hoarse yelp, his entire body seizing with pleasure so overwhelming that for several eternal heartbeats all he can do is feel. No sight, no breath, no touch, only the endless clench and release of his cunt around Mingyu's thick cock, only the deep down flood of heat as Mingyu follows him into the maelstrom, huge body wracked with his own ecstasies as he pours himself out into Jihoon's desperate depths.
Dimly, he is aware of Mingyu's knot pressing up inside him, if only because it triggers another shuddering climax, this one lesser than the obliterating one before it but enough still that he barely notices two pairs of hands on him, lifting him from the mattress. He slumps against Seungcheol, murmuring nonsense, and then groans as Mingyu falls back against the headboard. It settles his knot deeper inside Jihoon's belly, shifts the weight of it so that it grinds against his g-spot.
Soft lips caress his throat from the front and the back, Seungcheol and Mingyu. Both alphas soothe him, petting his body with their hands, grinding their foreheads against his jaw and shoulders. Mingyu is one of those alphas that cums the entire time he's tied to an omega and Jihoon can feel it filling him up, pushing out his belly. Jeonghan would be ecstatic.
Pressing his fingers to the fullness, listening to Mingyu whine, Jihoon thinks perhaps he finally understands.
+++
He must have passed out at some point, head cradled on Mingyu's shoulder, because the next thing that Jihoon is aware of is a cool, wet sensation between his legs and a pair of soft lips pressed to his temple.
He stirs, groans, and immediately two alpha scents flare, sharp and wintery mingling with warm and woody in a soothing blanket. Arms circle him, pulling him close against a broad chest and he manages to crack one eye open to see Seungcheol staring down at him, a fond expression on his handsome face.
"Was I asleep?" he says. His voice is croaky and dry, and Seungcheol immediately supplies a bottle of water. Jihoon drinks, shivers as the activity between his legs recommences. "What is he doing?"
"Cleaning you up," Seungcheol answers. "He made a mess. You didn't really sleep, just kind of dozed off for a bit." Jihoon hums, settles closer against Seungcheol. Now that he's awake, he can feel the pool of wetness beneath him, all of the substantial amount of cum that leaked out of him while he power napped.
"The bed is gross now," he grumbles.
"Yeah, the laundry team will be up soon to strip the sheets and get new ones on. There's a waterproof mattress topper, so they really only have to swap out the top ones and wipe the rest down." Seungcheol aims a playful kick at Mingyu, who yelps and laughs as he crawls up the bed to settle on Jihoon's other side. "They're on standby whenever someone gets Mingyu, he cums like a fire hose."
"Pfft, gross." Jihoon tips his head to the side to allow Mingyu access to his neck. Unlike every other alpha he's ever met, Mingyu just nuzzles in close, licking at the skin just below Jihoon's jaw. "I'm starving."
Mingyu helps him up out of the bed (his legs are still a bit wobbly) and hands him a pair of cotton shorts and a black t-shirt, workout clothes that he's not going to get to use now. He steps into them gingerly, probing between his legs as he pulls up the shorts. His pussy is tender, the delicate flesh around his hole still swollen and stinging from Mingyu's knot. But he's clean and nothing else is leaking out of him, so he pads out onto the balcony, where Seungcheol has set up dinner.
The sun is setting and the lights of Daegu are already bright around them. Jihoon pauses a moment to take it in, but the smell of crispy pork belly and spicy Shin ramyeon are too much to ignore. Seungcheol also made potato pancakes, crisp around the edges and soft on the inside, and a plate of pan fried mandu complete with a crunchy, lacy skirt made of flour and cornstarch.
Jihoon eats like a man possessed, his body finally able to focus on something that isn't getting knotted. They talk while they eat, Seungcheol and Mingyu holding a conversation while Jihoon rolls up green onion kimchi in a pancake and stuffs it into his mouth.
He listens and gleans from their talk that they have known each other for a while. Seungcheol said that Mingyu was his friend, that they worked well together, but Jihoon (in between bites of meat and noodles) suspects that it's more than that. The way they talk, it sounds like they either live together or spend most of their time together. They tell little stories, talk about their favorite places in the city. It's practiced patter for customers, calculated to offer openings should he wish to join in and be entertaining to listen to should he not, but there is a natural warmth to it as well, like they genuinely enjoy each other's company.
Jihoon likes them. A lot. Maybe too much? He wipes that thought away, stubbornly focusing his attention on piling as much kimchi as he can on top of a dumpling before tucking the whole thing into his mouth.
By the time they finish eating, the laundry crew has come and gone and the massive bed is neatly made up once again. Jihoon, his belly distended for a different reason now, flops down onto it and closes his eyes. He can't remember a time when his heat hasn't been fraught, stressful and unfulfilling at best. Now, he feels like a mandu himself, tender and stuffed full and content to just exist while Seungcheol and Mingyu clean up.
In between moments of blissful, warm sleepiness, Jihoon fusses with the blankets and pillows and clothes. The laundry crew had thoughtfully piled up all of the shirts and sweats and hoodies with which Jihoon had haphazardly lined his earlier crude nest and he grabs them now, one at a time, to place them where he wants them. Mingyu's clothes are included as well and Jihoon takes the time to sniff them carefully, pressing the fabric to his face, rubbing his cheek against it to get a little of his own sweet smell into the fibers.
It takes him a while to get everything arranged how he wants it, so that no matter how he's oriented in the bed there is the comforting smell of himself and the two alphas woven together. He makes the final adjustments as Seungcheol and Mingyu finish their cleaning and, as they approach the bed again, Jihoon experiences a sudden spike of anxiety. What if the nest is no good? What if they laugh at it?
Worse, what if they don't say anything and then talk about it after he leaves?
"Hey baby," Seungcheol murmurs, resting his hand on one of the boundary pillows. Jihoon growls softly in his throat and Seungcheol snatches his hand back, holding them both up as if in surrender. "Sorry! Sorry, I was going to ask."
"Ask?" Jihoon says, unsure of why he growled in the first place. His hormones and instincts are all muddled right now; this is the first heat that he hasn't scared off an alpha, so the fact that Seungcheol is still here, still treating him like a real omega, is throwing him for a loop.
"If we can come in," Seungcheol says. "To your nest."
"Oh. Um, yes. You can."
Good god, is he going to cry? It certainly feels like he is. The tightness in his throat and heat around the rims of his eyes are usually an indicator that he's about to lose it entirely, and he doesn't want Mingyu and Seungcheol to see that. It's charming on a delicate, pretty omega. It would be ridiculous on him.
"Wait," he says, voice thick and wavering. What the fuck is wrong with me? "Not now, I need to call someone first. Where's my phone?"
Seungcheol hands it over from where it has been sitting on the bedside table and he and Mingyu absent themselves, probably to go laugh about Jihoon's garbage nest. Tears stinging his eyes, he swipes away most of his notifications to open a series of increasingly irritated text messages from Jeonghan. Mostly things like How's it going?~~~ and How is that alpha treating you?, escalating to I tried to call you is everything all right? and Jihoon ANSWER ME.
He checks the time stamps on the messages, compares them to the clock on his phone. It's been over a day since he talked to Jeonghan on the phone, no wonder his friend is freaking out. Grimacing, he thumbs the phone icon next to Jeonghan's name and barely has time to listen to it ring before Jeonghan answers.
"Jihoon!" he sounds almost frantic and the novelty of that pushes back the imminent onset of Jihoon's tears. "Are you okay, I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours!"
"I'm okay," Jihoon says, trying his best to sound soothing and probably only marginally succeeding. "I'm sorry, it's just… this is a weird heat, you know? I only just checked my phone."
"Are they taking care of you? How many alphas have you been through?"
"The original one is still here," Jihoon says, laughing a little. "I had to get a second one, though, he needed a break."
There is a long pause, then Jeonghan's voice again, suspicious now. "The original one is still there? Is he okay, did you kill him?"
"No! He's fine! Where are you, there's a lot of noise on your end." He can barely make out Jeonghan's words.
"The airport," Jeonghan snaps. "I was worried about you."
"No, you don't have to do that!" Jihoon laughs, partially out of guilt but mostly out of pleased shock that Jeonghan cares enough to go all the way to the airport for him. "I'm okay, just go home."
"Too late, we're already in Daegu."
"We?" Jihoon asks, his amusement quickly turning to shock and no small amount of horror.
"Joshua came with me. What room are you in?"
+++
Jihoon manages to explain everything to Seungcheol and Mingyu through sobs of frustration and embarrassment and, admittedly, longing. He's spent most of his heats with Jeonghan for the past three or four years and hadn't realized how much he missed the other omega's presence. The promise that he will be here, and soon, is overwhelming.
Mingyu proves surprisingly adept at being a soothing presence, pulling Jihoon into his lap and holding his head against that expansive, plush chest. His hand, warm and broad, strokes the curve of Jihoon's spine as Jihoon sniffles and although the tears do fall, they are brief and somehow less embarrassing than if he'd been crying alone.
"Do you want me to let them in?" Seungcheol asks. Jihoon is surprised by the question; it never occurred to him that they wouldn't allow Jeonghan to join them. He nods and gives a watery smile and Seungcheol, his face stormy, cups Jihoon's cheek from outside the nest. He prowls around the hotel room, tidying things up, and when the inevitable knock comes, he flings the door open so hard that Jeonghan recoils a little.
"Hello?" he says, trying to peer past Seungcheol. "Is this the right room, I'm looking for Lee Jihoon. Ah! There you are!"
Jeonghan ducks under Seungcheol's arm, ignoring the big alpha fully to hurry over to the bed. He sheds clothes and accessories as he comes, a designer bag, sunglasses that cost as much as a car, a beautiful raw silk suit that was custom designed for him by one of the rising stars of the Seoul fashion scene. There is something satisfying about watching him discard all the trappings of Being Yoon Jeonghan so that they can be skin to skin finally.
He doesn't ask permission to enter the nest - and Jihoon didn't expect it of him - just vaults in once he has stripped down to his pretty satin panties and holds out his arms expectantly. Mingyu relinquishes his hold on Jihoon with a soft whine and Jihoon, already sobbing again, buries his face in the crook of Jeonghan's neck.
He smells like perfume and hair products and the airport but underneath it all, plain to Jihoon's heat heightened sense of smell, there is the soothing scent of Jeonghan himself. If he had been in the hotel heat book, it might have described his scent as peaches and cream, though like the two alphas, that leaves a lot out. It is a warm smell, summery and lush, as though someone has just sliced into the ripest, most perfect peach in the orchard and layered freshly whipped cream on top of it, sweet and just a little decadent.
"My Jihoon," he murmurs, gathering Jihoon as close as he can. Jeonghan is tall and slim to Jihoon's short, stocky build and they make a strange pair, especially awkwardly tangled on the bed as they are. "My darling, look at you! Look at these bruises!" He pulls back, warmth in his face and voice as he cups Jihoon's cheeks. "Look at your perfect nest."
That brings the tears on in a way that nothing else has and Jihoon collapses, head in Jeonghan's lap as sobs tear their way free from his throat. Several hands are on him almost immediately, Jeonghan's long and slim, Mingyu's broad and a little rough. Seungcheol's, even, soft and strong and possessive, his fingers gripping and squeezing Jihoon's scruff in a way that is strangely comforting.
"Sorry," he gasps, obscurely embarrassed by this meltdown. "Don't usually cry."
"Well, you've never felt safe enough to get to the nesting stage, my darling," Jeonghan says. Jihoon smells the flare of pleasure in both alphas' scents and laughs a little, weak and watery. "It's all right, I'm here now. We'll take good care of you, my Jihoon-ah."
Something about the word 'we' breaks through the fog of hormones and, sniffling, Jihoon raises his head. There, standing next to Seungcheol at the edge of the nest, is a total stranger who smiles sweetly at him and wiggles his fingers in greeting. Joshua, the American beta.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you," he says. "I brought presents for everyone."
Jihoon watches, bemused, as Joshua distributes gifts. Jeonghan's arms remain firmly around his waist and he leans back against his friend, comforted in a way he can't articulate by the presence of another omega. Seungcheol (who enters the nest as Joshua begins to unpack his shopping bags, one hand resting on Jihoon's thigh in a proprietary manner) and Mingyu (who refuses to relinquish his hold on Jihoon entirely, so that he is half in Mingyu's lap and half in Jeonghan's) watch warily, both of them stinking of protective suspicion.
If Joshua notices, he doesn't acknowledge it. Jihoon understands now what Jeonghan sees in him; his face is beautiful in an almost unearthly way, with big dark eyes and smooth skin and lips that curl easily into a brilliant smile. He hands out his presents - warm, soft robes and expensive sheet masks, lightly scented lotions, creams to help with chafing, a memory foam pillow to cradle Jihoon's hips and push them up when he gets too tired to do it himself - and with every item produced, Jeonghan's scent grows sweeter and sweeter.
He's down astronomically bad.
"Are you joining us?" Jihoon asks, once Joshua has concluded his gift distribution and they have all thanked him profusely. Even the alphas are feeling more mellow about him; the prickliness left their scents about halfway through the presentation of gifts, and once the pillow was produced both had shifted fully to approval.
"Me?" Joshua seems surprised, and Jeonghan pinches Jihoon on the waist, gentle rebuke for his uncharacteristic boldness. "Oh! Yes, I would like that." His Korean is slightly formal, his voice light and lovely.
"You don't have to, darling," Jeonghan says. He nevertheless watches avidly as Joshua begins to strip down. In contrast to his very pretty face, Joshua's body is well toned and masculine; he's not as big as Seungcheol or Mingyu, but it's clear that he works out.
"No, it's fine!" Joshua climbs into the nest, clad only in dark red boxer briefs and settles on his knees, hands folded primly in his lap. "I don't get to spend many heats with people. No one asks betas if they want to come along for the ride."
"I always try to get betas for my heats," Jihoon says, trying to keep it conversational even as he can feel another wave of need lapping at his feet. He's still coherent for now, at least, but the alphas can sense it like sharks sense blood in the water. Seungcheol growls, a deep sound that reverberates in his chest, and Mingyu tries to tug Jihoon away from Jeonghan, succeeding only marginally in that he does get Jihoon back in his lap and close enough to scent mark, though Jeonghan still has his arms locked tight around Jihoon and ends up dragged along for the ride.
"Mmm, we thought it might help him stay calm," Jeonghan says glowering at Mingyu as he rearranges himself to be perched decorously next to Jihoon instead of sprawled out in an ungainly mess. "Alphas usually upset him so much, but the betas in Seoul are booked solid, people love them."
"Well, it looks like the alphas in Daegu have done a fine job, haven't they?" Seungcheol counters, his knuckles brushing Jihoon's cheek in a quick, soft caress. Jihoon can smell how defensive he feels, how threatened by the introduction of two new people, and he marvels briefly at the novelty of an alpha feeling protective of him.
"Stop," he says. His voice is more strained than he anticipated and he clears his throat, obscurely embarrassed. "There's enough room in the nest for everyone."
Mingyu, sensitive boy that he is, whines and sinks his teeth into Jihoon's shoulder, hard enough to keep Jihoon where he is but not enough to leave anything but the faintest mark. Jihoon reaches back, strokes the big alpha's hair. Mingyu shudders and holds him tighter.
"Of course there is, darling," Jeonghan murmurs, studying Jihoon's face. This must be strange for him too; Jeonghan has never seen him have a heat that was anything less than disastrous, much less one that is actually good. He's trying to run things the way he usually has to and is being forced to adapt to the fact that maybe Jihoon doesn't need that from him anymore.
Jihoon catches Jeonghan's hand, bringing long, delicate fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. Jeonghan relaxes a little, warmth flooding his expression. Joshua joins him, smiling in a way that somehow makes his eyes even brighter. He rests a hand on Jihoon's thigh and Jihoon is shocked at how big it is, how broad the palm and how long and capable the fingers.
He lets out a soft breath, need awakening in him like a hydra. They all sense it, moving closer, their various scents flaring and mingling into a dizzying whole. Joshua smells red and fresh and sweet, like some kind of fruit, and when he moves in close to nip at the sweep of Jihoon's collarbone, Jihoon breathes him in and imagines the pop of pomegranate seeds between his teeth, juicy and just a little tart.
They move him like he's a doll and Jihoon allows it, grumbling softly when Mingyu relinquishes his hold and then sighing happily when he is returned to the alpha's grasp, this time facing him, legs splayed to straddle Mingyu's lap. He doesn't have to position Mingyu's cock this time. Jeonghan does it instead, turning Jihoon's head to face him, their lips meeting lightly at first and then with increasing desperation as Jeonghan rubs the head of Mingyu's cock teasingly across Jihoon's aching clit.
"Please," he mumbles against Jeonghan's lips, fingers curling into desperate claws around the other omega's shoulders. "Need him inside me, please." His words are punctuated by a whine from Mingyu; the poor alpha is trembling beneath Jihoon, so desperate to get inside him but so good, so obedient, that he refuses to push inside without Jeonghan's permission.
"He's a sweet puppy, isn't he?" Jeonghan teases. "Does he fuck you properly, Jihoon-ah?"
"Yes," Jihoon gasps, tilting his head back as Mingyu begins to mouth at his neck. His arms are crushingly tight around Jihoon's waist.
Jeonghan kisses him again and again, as though he's making up for the day that he missed, and Jihoon allows it for a while, lost in Jeonghan's sweet scent and soft lips. But he's getting impatient, his body craving more, craving the fullness of being knotted and the shivery pleasure of knowing that it's him driving the alphas to that point. The next kiss earns Jeonghan a snap of sharp little teeth and he recoils, surprised.
"Jihoon!" he scolds, lining up Mingyu's cock so that the head is pressing against Jihoon's eager hole. "Did you just try to bite me?"
"Let. Him. Breed. Me." The snarl in his voice surprises even Jihoon, but the shock fades from Jeonghan's eyes quickly and he laughs, leaning close to nuzzle the tender spot just below Jihoon's ear.
"Of course, darling," he purrs. "He's such a big boy, he could have fucked you whenever he wanted."
"Mingyu is a good boy," comes a new voice from the other side of Jihoon. Seungcheol is there finally, warm hand on the small of Jihoon's back, dark eyes fixed sternly on Jeonghan's face. "You have to tell him it's okay."
Jeonghan smiles, long lashes fluttering, and Jihoon can't help the surge of jealousy that suddenly overtakes him. Jeonghan is so beautiful, so charming, and he seems to always know what to say and do to get his way. That coquettish little smile, the way he looks at a person from under his dark lashes. Jihoon is even convinced that he can blush on command, turning those perfect cheekbones the most delicate shade of pink.
"Alphas love it when you blush," he'd told Jihoon once, a little curl of contempt on his lips. "It reminds them of your pussy."
And now he's doing it to Seungcheol, trying to steal the only alpha that has ever let Jihoon be safe enough to have a proper heat. And Seungcheol is falling for it, Jihoon can tell. He's got that dazed look on his face that all alphas get with Jeonghan, and Jihoon tries so hard to choke it down but he can't. He's only human. Jealousy sours his scent and they both focus on his face immediately, Seungcheol with a guilty sort of grimace, Jeonghan with his eyes wide in shock.
"Stop it," Jihoon murmurs, trying to reach down, trying to push Jeonghan's hand away. "Please, I need…" God, here come the tears again, welling up in his eyes, choking out his voice. Embarrassing.
Jeonghan falls back, releasing his hold on Mingyu, and the big alpha surges up, burying his cock inside Jihoon with a soft growl. For a moment, pleasure distracts him; the sheer size of Mingyu's cock takes his breath away and he squirms, desperate for more but already stuffed so full he's not sure he could take it.
"Shh, baby," Mingyu whispers, cupping his cheek, and Jihoon realizes that he's actively crying again. Mingyu's thumb drags through the tears, smearing them, and then he pulls Jihoon closer, cradles him against that broad chest as his hips begin to move. "Shh, I've got you, I'll take care of you."
He loses himself to the motion of Mingyu's hips and the sweet, slow pleasure that builds inside him. Where earlier he was snappy and demanding, now he feels like a wrung out washrag, limp and crumpled and needy. He reaches out, hand grasping at air until Jeonghan's fingers lace through his own.
"I'm sorry," Jeonghan murmurs, his lips so close to the shell of Jihoon's ear that no one else can hear him. Jihoon shivers, squeezes Jeonghan's fingers tight in acknowledgement. They don't need to talk about it, not now anyway. Jeonghan understands. He has very few omega friends because it's hard not to feel threatened around him; the way he takes up all of the space in a room, the way everyone is drawn to him, especially alphas.
It never bothered Jihoon before because he never particularly cared about alphas. Sure, he compares himself unfavorably to Jeonghan, but he would have to be insane not to. He never talks about it with Jeonghan because he is well aware that Jeonghan can't help the way he is. They have had extensive 3am talks, both of them exhausted and bundled up under blankets in Jihoon's studio, about how much Jeonghan wishes he had the opposite draw.
I love omegas, he'd said, wistful, his head on Jihoon's shoulder. But they don't love me. They always think I want their mates or that I'm an attention whore. I wish I was different. I wish alphas didn't look at me and see The Perfect Omega.
Jihoon hadn't been able to bring himself to tell Jeonghan that it wasn't only alphas who saw him as the perfect omega. That other omegas wanted to be near him, but to be friends with Jeonghan was to be in his orbit, not his equal. No one could stand up to that comparison.
"It's okay," he murmurs, nuzzling close, accepting a soft kiss from Jeonghan. "I'm sorry, too, I shouldn't have." Shouldn't have gotten jealous, shouldn't have compared himself to Jeonghan. He doesn't have to say it all. Jeonghan knows.
There is a warm hand on his back, just between his shoulder blades, and he shudders. Seungcheol is solely focused on him now, which is kind of an apology in and of itself, although Jihoon doesn't expect him to apologize for noticing Jeonghan.
His body, heavy and broad, settles behind Jihoon, chest to back, and Jihoon can feel Seungcheol's cock, thick and fever hot, pressing up against him. He squirms and whines and Mingyu stills his hips, showering Jihoon's face with tender little kisses when he protests.
"How are you feeling, baby?" Seungcheol murmurs. "You need to be more full?"
It takes Jihoon a moment to realize what the alpha is asking. Ordinarily, he would never even consider something like that, but his brain is so addled by hormones, his body so wracked with need, that he nods without even really thinking about it.
"My baby," Jeonghan purrs, nipping the tip of Jihoon's finger. "My greedy boy." Fingers close around his other hand and Jihoon turns to face Joshua. There is bright color in his cheeks and his pretty, curly lips are so red that it looks like he's wearing lipstick.
"We have you," he says, kissing the back of Jihoon's hand, his wrist, his palm. "Just hold on, okay?"
Jihoon whines and Joshua leans forward to kiss his mouth. It's soft and sweet and tender, two people who don't really know each other but who are locked in an immediately intimate relationship simply by virtue of how they met. Jihoon maybe should have been mad that Jeonghan brought Joshua along, but he feels he doesn't have a leg to stand on. How can he scold Jeonghan for introducing a stranger to his heat when both the alphas that are taking care of him are strangers too?
Seungcheol's fingers probe between his legs, tease at where he and Mingyu are joined. They both whine at that, Jihoon pushing back and Mingyu pressing forward, and Seungcheol laughs softly at them. His teeth sink into the scruff of Jihoon's neck, pinioning him as his fingers, slippery with lube or with Jihoon's own slick, tease at Jihoon's ass before pushing inside.
Jihoon has some experience with anal sex. Maybe not as much as some, but it's at least not zero. Never during a heat, though, and never when someone is already inside him, thrusting slow and deep so that he can feel the drag of Seungcheol's finger pushing Mingyu's cock into a different angle.
He yelps, curling forward and squeezing hard at Jeonghan and Joshua's hands. Joshua clearly works out and anyhow his hands are enormous, but Jeonghan hisses in pain, his delicate bones painfully compressed by Jihoon's grip.
"Sorry," Jihoon sobs and all four of them reply, a chorus of reassurance and soothing words. Kisses rain down on him, landing on his cheeks, his hands, his shoulders, his neck. He feels surrounded in a way that would ordinarily make him feel claustrophobic and terrified, but there is so much love here that all he feels is safe.
A second finger joins the first, Seungcheol slowly fucking the digits in and out, alternating strokes with Mingyu. Jihoon squirms, overstimulated and yet craving so much more. There is no quantifying the pleasure he feels anymore. It simply is. It exists all around him and inside him, as though it is the only thing his body is capable of anymore. He exists to be held and kissed and fucked and bred. It is all he is.
The head of Seungcheol's cock presses against him and then inside and the breath leaves his lungs. He has never been so full in his life, never thought he could contain this much inside himself. Both alphas stop for a moment, letting him breathe, letting him get used to the feeling of being stretched so far that his awareness of the edges of his own body feels like it is fraying.
And then they move, one pushing in while the other is pulling out so that he is never empty. There is no respite from his own desperate need, and all he can do is sink his teeth into Mingyu's shoulder and sob. He is vaguely aware of hands on his back and his scalp, combing through his hair, stroking his shaking thighs. Jeonghan and Joshua, babying him through it and watching that the alphas, caught up in their own spiral of lust and instinct, don't push him too hard.
He loses count of the amount of times they push him to climax, his body clenching so tight around them that there is a delicious edge of pain to the ecstasy that wracks him over and over again. His voice gives out at some point, right around when he is too wrung out to cry anymore. Instead, he rests his head on Mingyu's broad chest and stares into Jeonghan's eyes, dazed and overwhelmed, looking away only when his eyes roll back in his head as he is seized with another orgasm.
"Hey baby," Mingyu murmurs, cupping the back of his head. His voice is strained. "You need a knot?"
"Mmm," Jihoon replies, managing to nod assent. A knot will calm him down, anchor him to his body again. "Jus' one." Behind him, Seungcheol laughs.
"Don't worry, pretty boy," he says, his voice only one step up from a growl. "I'm not gonna knot you. Don't wanna tear you apart."
He does cum, though, his big hands holding Jihoon's hips still as he thrusts in raggedly, emptying himself inside Jihoon's aching hole and not pulling out until Mingyu's hips snap up one last time, his knot swelling so fast that Jihoon is amazed he doesn't pass out from the sheer pleasure of it. The size of it, and the suddenness, bring Jihoon over the edge one last time and he shudders against Mingyu's chest, the big alpha spilling himself continuously inside Jihoon even as Seungcheol's cum leaks out and down his thighs.
+++
He loses track of things for a long time. All he knows are hands on him, voices murmuring how good he is, how pretty and sweet. Alphas growling as they sink their teeth into his shoulder or neck, Jeonghan holding his hands and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
At some point he is passed to Joshua, wrapped up in his surprisingly muscular arms, and fucked more tenderly than he ever has been before. Joshua touches him gently, long hands running up and down his body, and when he knots Jihoon he presses both hands to his belly and whispers in his ear how beautiful and soft he's going to be when the baby starts to show and Jihoon cums so hard that it's almost painful.
He is on birth control, as are all the rest of them, so there is little to no chance of him actually getting pregnant. And just in case, the hotel provides a round of post-heat contraceptive pills for any omegas involved. Still, even the suggestion of being actually bred is enough to drive him wild, and between Seungcheol and Mingyu they knot him another three times before he calms down.
In between hormone surges, Jihoon is limp like a wet rag, exhausted but also enjoying a little the way the rest of them fuss over him. Seungcheol draws him another bath and Jeonghan crawls in with him, cradling him as he sponges the alpha stink off of Jihoon's skin.
Mingyu and Seungcheol cook, feeding him creamy, spicy ramyeon and kimchi pancakes and jjajangmyeon. Joshua leaves for a little while and returns with grocery bags and for a while the hotel room is filled with the scent of baking cookies. Jihoon eats them when they're warm, relishing the molten chocolate chips and the softness at the cookie's center.
He sleeps and wakes up to find that they have moved him to the couch and changed the sheets again. He grows restless and they take him out to the pool on the balcony, all five of them floating in the water with only the lights of downtown Daegu at night to see by, and the sounds of the city as their soundtrack.
Jihoon asks sometimes what day it is, or how much time has passed, and Jeonghan soothes him, kissing his temples and telling him that it doesn't matter. Jihoon has little frame of reference; his heats before were punctuated by frustration and unfulfilled longing. Now that he's getting what he needs for the first time in his life, he's not sure what to expect. Jeonghan's heats usually last for three days, which is the universal average, but Jihoon feels like they've been here for months, his entire world shrunk down to this hotel room and these four people who adore him.
Or are, at least, doing a very convincing impression of it.
He wakes to the morning sun streaming in through the balcony doors and rolls over, looking for a phone so he can see what time it is. The bed is a tangle of bodies; Seungcheol and Mingyu had shared him again last night, holding him close between them as they moved together in slow, sweet harmony. Jeonghan and Joshua had fucked beside them, Joshua's face buried first between Jeonghan's legs and then tucked tight against his neck while Jihoon and Jeonghan held hands and stared into each other's eyes.
The thought of it summons a warm glow inside Jihoon and he can feel himself blushing. Beside him, Mingyu grumbles and tries to squeeze him tighter, but not before Jihoon manages to stretch out and lay hands on Jeonghan's phone. He taps it to activate the lock screen, checks the date and time.
Four days.
Four days since he arrived in Daegu to take meetings and listen to demos and lay down guide tracks. Four days since his libido got the better of him and the alpha that he'd hired to satisfy his sudden lust had ended up triggering an early heat instead.
He drops the phone on the bed with a sigh and burrows back into Mingyu's embrace. It's only 8:40am, he can afford to sleep a few more hours.
+++
Jeonghan shakes him awake gently some time later. The sun streaming through the balcony windows suggests early afternoon.
Jihoon stretches luxuriantly, spreading out across the now empty bed while Jeonghan gazes down on him fondly. He feels a bit sticky and is distinctly sore between the legs, but there is no more flood of need at the thought of the alphas, no more desire to cry or scream or bite the nearest person.
"Think I'm done," he says, sitting up and accepting a cup of coffee from Joshua. The room smells like cooking again and his stomach rumbles.
"Thank god," Joshua replies cheerfully. "You almost killed Mingyu."
"I did?" Jihoon murmurs, embarrassment rising like a wave through his entire body until he's glowing pink like neon.
"Yeah, you wouldn't let him stop fucking you. You slapped him in the face."
"Joshy, stop teasing," Jeonghan admonishes, sitting on the bed and putting an arm around Jihoon's shoulders. He tries to lean into it but he is rigid with horror. Jeonghan's words give him a sliver of hope.
"I didn't slap him?" he whispers.
"No, darling, you did slap him, but I think he likes that sort of thing," Jeonghan says, patting his back reassuringly.
"I don't remember doing that…"
"Of course you don't, you were deep in it by then. It's fine, Jihoon-ah, no one is upset."
"Is that normal?" Jihoon asks hoarsely. He sips the coffee to wet his throat; it's strong and sweet and does actually help a little. "To lose it and then not remember?"
"Of course, it happens to most of us," Jeonghan says, casting him a look out of the corner of his eye. It's almost proprietary but tinged with sadness, like he's quietly devastated that Jihoon has never lost it during a heat. "You've told me how I get, when I'm crying and begging and telling alphas that I love them? I never remember doing that. I would slap myself if I ever did."
Jihoon laughs a little, tucks his head up against Jeonghan's shoulder. It's true that Jeonghan gets desperate and weepy at the height of his heats, and equally true that he has never dated an alpha in the entire time that Jihoon has known him. It's reassuring, knowing that the crazy parts aren't really him.
"Where is he, I should apologize," he mutters, handing the coffee to Jeonghan so that he can crawl off the bed and pull on a pair of black sweats.
"Mingyu is in the shower and Seungcheol went to get more food," Joshua says, standing up. "You have the room and the alphas until 11am tomorrow, so he's making you bossam."
There comes the blush again, for a different reason this time. The alphas didn't just leave as soon as he was done? Seungcheol is making a big meal for them all to share? Jihoon squirms, uncomfortable, and both Joshua and Jeonghan look at him with so much fondness and understanding that he kind of wants to throw a shoe at them.
"You guys know you look alike, right?" he grumbles, snatching his coffee back from Jeonghan, who smiles beatifically.
"Yeah, that's part of it," he says.
"It is?" Joshua sounds appropriately surprised by that and Jihoon takes the opportunity to escape.
The shower is off but the bathroom is full of steam when he slips in, and Mingyu looks up from toweling his hair to flash Jihoon a broad grin. His body is covered in bite marks and bruises and Jihoon can't stifle a gasp at the sight of them.
"Did I do all that?" he asks faintly. Mingyu looks puzzled for a moment, then remembers that he's naked. His smile turns slightly sheepish and he shrugs.
"Mostly," he says. "I think a few might have been Cheol, but I was kind of in the zone so I don't remember."
"Are you okay?" Jihoon steps forward tentatively, raising a hand but not quite able to bring himself to touch any of Mingyu's injuries.
"Oh sure," the big alpha says, shrugging. "I'm not going to lie and say I've had worse, you're probably the bitiest omega I've ever bred, but you're certainly not the only one." He glances up, brown eyes warm and shrewd as they take in Jihoon's face, and Jihoon understands that this is meant to reassure him. And it does, in a way. It's nice to know that other omegas go completely insane.
"Okay." Jihoon steps back so that Mingyu can get through his post-shower routine without having to navigate around him. It feels awkward in a way that he's never experienced before. It feels domestic.
"Joshua said Seungcheol was making dinner again," he says, just to have something to say. Mingyu glances at him from the corner of one eye as he leans close to the mirror to apply moisturizer to his face.
"Yeah, Seungcheol likes to have bossam at the end of a heat."
"Oh." Jihoon isn't sure if he's relieved by that or disappointed. He'd been surprised that the alphas are sticking around after his heat, but if this is just something Seungcheol does for everyone, that makes sense. He forces a smile. "That's great, you guys really go all in."
"He doesn't do it for everyone," Mingyu says.
"Just the ones that bite him the entire time?"
"Just the ones he likes," Mingyu corrects, smiling as he pulls on a shirt. Jihoon can't tell if he's legitimately having trouble getting it on or if he's just taking a little extra time so that Jihoon can blush desperately without the agony of being observed.
"Oh," he says again, fainter this time. "That's nice."
"Don't think about it too much," Mingyu says, kissing him on the top of his head as he makes his way out of the bathroom. "It's already hard for Cheollie to not act weird about omegas he's into."
"Into?" Jihoon chases Mingyu out, catches him by the band of his basketball shorts. "What does that mean?"
"It means what it means," Mingyu answers, turning to wrap Jihoon in a hug. He grinds his jawline across the top of Jihoon's head, scent marking him, and Jihoon grumbles. It's more out of habit than anything, though. He likes Mingyu. Maybe too much?
Dazed and unsure of his own feelings, Jihoon drifts out onto the balcony to make some calls while everyone fusses over dinner. Someone (probably Jeonghan) plugged his phone in while he slept so he has a full charge with which to reschedule all of the meetings and recordings he missed due to his heat.
Everyone is annoyingly understanding and he manages to get a handful of things on the calendar for tomorrow and the next day. The rest he has to push out by two weeks, but it's fine. It isn't a long flight or anything, and he will absolutely not be letting Jeonghan book his hotel again.
All that completed, he just settles back into one of the poolside chairs and stares out at the city. Daegu seems nice; it's a pity he's never really had time to explore it when he's been here in the past. He is always busy, always taking a hired car from one studio to the next, face turned down to focus on his phone. He's never taken time to appreciate the place.
He has been wanting to get out of his rut lately. It has been tough writing a new album for himself when he's got so many other things to work on, and his writing partner suggested a vacation. Just pack up one of the small keyboards and your guitar and rent a house somewhere. See the sights. Act like a tourist. Meet people. You might find inspiration.
Of course, Bumzu had been talking about going somewhere a little further afield than Daegu. He'd suggested Japan or Thailand or Europe. Jihoon had been considering Morocco. But Daegu is just as new to him, so surely it counts, right?
Idly, almost without realizing what he's doing, he thumbs open his calendar app, checks his schedules for the next week. There's nothing lined up that he can't move around. He texts Jeonghan, makes a few more calls, and then leans back contemplatively, letting the pool chair cradle him.
This could be a good thing. He has been needing to get out of the studio, spend some time with his friends, find some new sources of inspiration. And if that inspiration comes from getting absolutely obliterated by two big alphas, so what? He certainly won't be the first person to write an album about sex.
"Sitting out here by yourself?"
Jihoon jumps a little, startled out of his thoughts and grateful for it. They had been wandering in a distinctly lewd direction and even though Seungcheol and Mingyu are sticking around for dinner, their duties as heat workers have been discharged. He's not going to ask them to fuck him again.
"Not anymore," he says, smiling slightly at Seungcheol. "Do you want to sit down?"
"No, I have to keep an eye on the meat. It's almost ready. I just wanted to check in on you." In spite of his words, he does come sit in the pool chair next to Jihoon, perching precariously on the edge. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," Jihoon answers. "Tired."
"Yeah, you wore us out," Seungcheol laughs. He's gorgeous when he laughs, cheeks pushing up, nose wrinkling a little. Jihoon stares at the way his long, dark lashes brush his cheekbones. The way his full lips are still swollen and a little pink from Jihoon's teeth.
Or maybe that's just his imagination. Maybe he's just having post heat delusions. Seungcheol's lips looked swollen and pink in his hire-an-alpha headshot too, they aren't like that solely for Jihoon's benefit. He looks away, mad at himself for a whole host of reasons, chief among them the fact that he's let someone who is essentially a stranger get under his skin.
"Sorry," Jihoon says, unrepentant. Seungcheol reaches over, strokes a fingertip along Jihoon's cheek.
"Sorry for what?" he asks. "You think I'm upset that I got to be around for your heat?"
Got to. Jihoon tucks that away, well aware he's going to obsess over it like a loser later on. At least he's not blushing or crying anymore. As futile as it is, knowing that Seungcheol has seen him at his absolute messiest, Jihoon still feels the need to claw back as much dignity as he can.
"Stop it," he mutters, smiling a little. "Listen, you guys didn't have to stick around."
"I know," Seungcheol says, standing up. "I wasn't sure you were done, though. And now there's food."
"You didn't have to do that either."
"I don't have to do anything," Seungcheol counters, hovering next to the balcony doors as though there's something else he wants to say. "Jeonghan mentioned you were rescheduling some of the meetings you missed."
"Yeah," Jihoon says, surprised. "I managed to get some of them rescheduled for tomorrow and the day after."
"You staying here?"
"No, they're full." He had actually tried to just keep this room but the front desk, while apologetic, had been very firm about the fact that they had already extended his stay and he had to get the fuck out. "I just booked a suite at a regular hotel for me and Jeonghan and Joshua."
"Oh, they're staying too?" Seungcheol says, fingers tapping against the door frame. His entire demeanor has shifted, like he's waiting for Jihoon to say something or notice something or do something. It's starting to make Jihoon anxious. Is he ignorant of some unspoken rule about heat hotels? Surely Jeonghan would have told him…
"Yeah," he says, stretching the word out. "I guess they're officially dating now and they want some vacation time. Jeonghan's mad that I fucked his boyfriend before he did so he's probably going to punish me the whole time."
"Sounds rough," Seungcheol says dryly. "How long are you guys staying?"
"Four more days," Jihoon answers, suddenly very interested in his own hand. There's a callous on his palm from weightlifting, one that he picks at whenever he doesn't want to make eye contact. "So, you know, if you and Mingyu want to come get dinner with us at some point…"
"They usually make us take five days off in between heat bookings," Seungcheol says and Jihoon is immediately embarrassed. Both that he brought it up in the first place and that he thought for even a second that he would have a relationship with either alpha that wasn't strictly transactional.
"Yeah, of course," Jihoon says, springing up out of the chair. He's wearing his biggest fake smile, the one he only breaks out when he has to deal with record execs. "Don't worry about it, you guys definitely need to get your rest."
Seungcheol catches him around the waist as he tries to walk past, pulls him close. Jihoon squirms a little but doesn't resist; Seungcheol still smells amazing and it's hard not to lean into his embrace. He nuzzles the top of Jihoon's head, scenting him with his jaw the way Mingyu had earlier.
"I meant," he says, leaning close and pulling Jihoon up against him so that he's forced onto his toes. Seungcheol's lips move against his ear, his words dark with promise, "that we have five days off now, so we can come to a lot more than dinner."
Seungcheol steps back, releasing Jihoon so abruptly that he stumbles, mind whirling. He catches himself against the alpha's chest, fingers flexing involuntarily against Seungcheol's pectoral muscles.
"Hmm," he says. "Ah. I see. That's great."
"Unless that's not what you want?" Seungcheol rests a broad hand on Jihoon's waist. It's a steadying gesture, one that Jihoon desperately needs, and he forces himself to concentrate on the warmth of Seungcheol's palm against his skin.
"No, it is," Jihoon says. His hands are still pressed against Seungcheol's chest like he's the heroine in some corny romance novel. Embarrassed, he slides them down and around the alpha's waist, thumbnails scraping Seungcheol's nipples as he does. That earns him a low growl, a flare of… is that need?
"Good," Seungcheol replies, and there is genuine relief in his voice. Jihoon, bemused, rests his head against Seungcheol's chest. His heartbeat is almost as fast as Jihoon's.
Is this a thing? Is this about to turn into a thing? He can't tell and it's nerve wracking and exciting and awful all at the same time. Jihoon hasn't felt giddy like this since he was a kid and he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He likes Seungcheol and Mingyu a lot, likes them enough to consider pursuing something more serious.
Except that they live in Daegu and he lives in Seoul and he's a busy guy. Also they're sex workers. Also does he really need two boyfriends? Embarrassment and anxiety bubble up inside him and it must sour his scent because Seungcheol pulls him closer and kisses the top of his head.
"It doesn't have to be a thing," he murmurs, echoing Jihoon's thoughts. "It can just be a hookup when you're in town. No drama."
"Yeah," Jihoon says, voice muffled by Seungcheol's chest. "I kinda like drama, though. Makes it easier to write songs." Seungcheol's arms tighten around him and the evergreen fresh snow scent of him fills Jihoon's nostrils. This could work. They both want it to work, at least, and Jihoon suspects that Mingyu feels the same way.
Besides, he's fucking rich and the trip from Seoul to Daegu isn't long at all. He can see them both whenever he wants.
"Yeah, okay," Seungcheol agrees, pulling back a little and smiling down on him. "We can probably manage a little drama. Now come inside, it's time for dinner and Mingyu is dying to feed you."
Jihoon groans, but they can both smell the sticky sweet contentment in his scent as they head back inside.