Chapter Text
Day 0 - The Masquerade
The air conditioning in the luxury villa was always set to a precise and bone chilling temperature. It was a rule. It was a necessity to keep the idols’ complexions fresh and their tempers cool after grueling schedules. But tonight, to Dylan, the artificial cold felt like a mockery.
While the rest of the house slept or lounged in comfortable silence, Dylan felt like he was burning alive from the inside out.
It started as a low simmer in his marrow. It was a subtle wrongness that he had tried to ignore during the dance practice earlier that day. But now, in the solitude of his room, the simmer had boiled over into a fever that made his skin hypersensitive to the touch of his own silk pajamas.
He stumbled toward the bathroom sink and gripped the porcelain edge until his knuckles turned white. His reflection stared back at him. He looked pale and sweating, with eyes that held a frantic and animalistic sheen he despised.
"Not now," he rasped. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. "Please, not now."
It had been five years. Five excruciatingly long years of living a lie. Five years of swallowing specialized and high-grade suppressants that cost a fortune on the black market just to hide the fact that he was a defect. He was a recessive Omega hiding in plain sight among a pack of dominant Wolves.
With trembling hands, he opened the mirrored cabinet. The orange bottle was there. It looked innocent but was filled with poison. He shook out two pills, which was double the usual dose, and swallowed them dry. They scraped down his throat and left a chalky and bitter aftertaste. But the deep and hollow ache in his lower belly did not subside. If anything, it pulsed harder as a rebellious rhythm against the chemicals trying to silence it.
It was a phantom hunger. It was a starving and gaping void that no amount of food could fill, and no amount of water could quench. It was a biological imperative screaming to be answered.
Dylan retreated from the bathroom and locked the door behind him as if the lock could keep the heat at bay. He leaned his back against the wood and slid down until he hit the floor. From this vantage point, his eyes were drawn inevitably and magnetically to the other door in his room.
The connecting door.
It was just a panel of painted wood with a simple brass handle. Physically, it was flimsy. A strong kick could shatter it. But to Dylan, it didn't look like a door. It looked like the heavy iron bars of a prison cell, or perhaps the sealed gates of a paradise he was biologically forbidden to enter.
He knew Jun was on the other side.
The villa's walls were thick and soundproofed for privacy, but Dylan’s heightened senses could pick up the faintest sounds. It was a curse of his recessive biology attempting to compensate. He could hear the heavy thud of footsteps. He heard the rustle of fabric. And then, he heard the faint and low humming of a melody Jun had been working on.
That sound vibrated through the floorboards. It traveled up Dylan’s spine and settled in his groin as a sharp and electric throb.
"Stop it," he whispered to himself as he squeezed his eyes shut. "He thinks you are a Beta. He thinks you are nothing."
Dragging his heavy limbs, Dylan crawled onto his bed. It was a king-sized mattress that felt vast and lonely. He pulled a bundle of fabric from under his pillow. It was his secret shame. It was a hoodie Jun had left in the living room weeks ago. It was a simple and black oversized hoodie that anyone else would have thrown in the laundry. But Dylan had stolen it. He hoarded it like a dragon guarding its only piece of gold.
He buried his face in the fabric and inhaled deeply.
Cedarwood and Dark Rum.
The scent was heavy and unmistakably masculine. It made Dylan’s knees weak just by breathing it in. It was not the artificial scent of cologne. It was Jun’s natural pheromones, the scent of a Dominant Alpha in his prime. To any other Omega, this scent would be a command. To Dylan, it was a cruel reminder of everything he could not have.
"Jun..." he breathed into the rough cotton as his voice broke.
His hand moved of its own accord. It slid down his stomach and went past the waistband of his pants. He reached for the drawer on his nightstand. His fingers fumbled blindly until they closed around the cool and smooth silicone.
He did not touch his front. He ignored the weeping tip of his own member and ignored the friction his body usually enjoyed. As an Omega, even a broken and recessive one, the true crave was not for surface pleasure. It was a desperate need for fullness. It was a need for depth. He wanted to be claimed. He wanted to be filled until he could not think, could not breathe, and could not lie anymore.
He slid the toy in.
"Ah!"
He gasped as his hips bucked off the mattress. The toy was cold. It was synthetic and lifeless. It stretched him, yes, but it did not provide the warmth he craved. It did not have a heartbeat. It did not have Jun’s weight.
Imagine it is him, his mind supplied a cruel and vivid fantasy. Imagine the door opening. Imagine Jun walking in, smelling your heat, and realizing you have been waiting for him all this time.
In his mind’s eye, the scene played out with agonizing clarity. He imagined Jun’s large and rough hands pinning Dylan’s hips to the mattress. He imagined the shock in Jun’s eyes turning into dark and possessive hunger. He imagined the way Jun would growl "You are mine" before claiming him properly.
"Jun... please... ah... nngh..." Dylan bit his lip to stifle a moan as tears leaked from his eyes.
He visualized Jun’s eyes. Those sharp and playful eyes turned into crescents when he smiled. He imagined the way Jun’s thick thighs would feel slotted between his own. He thought of the terrifying and exhilarating idea of an Alpha’s knot locking him in place, breeding him, and owning him.
He moved the toy faster and sobbed softly. It was a pitiful substitute. No matter how deep he pushed, the emptiness remained. The scent of Cedarwood on the stolen hoodie mocked him. He will never be yours. He thinks you are a guy who doesn't even have a scent. You are just a coworker. A brother. A fake Beta.
After a shuddering and dry climax that brought no relief, only a deeper and crushing sense of loneliness, Dylan lay paralyzed for a long time. The shame washed over him colder than the air conditioning.
He forced himself up. He cleaned himself with clinical efficiency. He scrubbed his hands until they were red, and he sprayed a heavy duty neutralizer around the room until the air smelled like sterile nothingness. He hid the hoodie. He hid the toy.
He put his mask back on. The mask of Dylan. The cool, calm, beta member of the group.
He needed water. His throat felt like sandpaper.
Dylan unlocked his door and stepped out into the hallway. He walked towards the living area. He hoped it would be empty. He prayed for silence.
But of course, the living room was chaos.
The large and open-concept space was filled with the noise of the TV and the chatter of his bandmates.
"Nano, stop eating all the snacks! We have a photoshoot tomorrow!" Thame scolded, though the lack of real heat in his voice was obvious. His arm was draped possessively around Po’s waist, pulling the smaller man into his side.
"But I am hungry!" Nano whined. He looked effortlessly cute with a half eaten cookie in his mouth.
Nano. The group’s Main Dancer. He was a Dominant Omega who radiated a natural and sweet scent even without trying. He was everything Dylan was not. He was beautiful, cherished, and open about his nature. Everyone loved Nano. Alphas instinctively wanted to protect him.
And there was Jun.
Jun was sprawled on the expensive leather sofa. His long legs took up most of the space, and he looked like a king holding court. He was laughing at something Nano said. His hand casually rested near Nano’s knee.
The touch was innocent. They were bandmates and they were family. Nano was comfortable with everyone. But to Dylan, the sight of Jun’s large hand so close to Nano’s soft skin felt like a physical blow to the gut. It looked like a perfect painting. The Dominant Alpha and the Dominant Omega. It was a picture that had no space for a fake Beta like Dylan.
Dylan walked into the kitchen. He kept his head down and tried to make himself invisible. Just get water. Do not look at them. Go back to your room.
But Jun’s radar was annoyingly sharp as always.
"Oh? Look who emerged from his cave," Jun’s voice cut through the noise. It was deep and teasing.
Dylan froze. His hand hovered over the water pitcher.
Jun turned his head and grinned that blinding grin that made fans scream and made Dylan’s heart shatter. "Our Dylan is finally out. You look flushed, Dyl. Your face is all red." Jun tilted his head. His eyes scanned Dylan’s body with a playful curiosity. "Did you do something naughty in there all by yourself?"
It was a joke. It was just Jun’s habitual and thoughtless flirting. Jun was a flirt by nature. He flirted with the delivery guy, the stylist, the coordinator, and even the potted plants in the hallway. It meant nothing to him.
But tonight, with the heat simmering under his skin and the memory of the cold toy still fresh in his mind, the words struck too close to home. It felt like an accusation.
Dylan gripped his glass tight until his knuckles turned white. The water inside trembled. "Shut up, Jun. Not everyone is a horny idiot like you."
The room went quiet. The laughter died instantly. Thame looked up from his phone. Po blinked in surprise. Even Nano stopped chewing.
Jun’s smile faltered just a fraction. A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes before he masked it with a shrug. "Whoa, feisty today. I was just asking, man. You do not have to bite."
"Stop annoying me," Dylan snapped. His voice was sharper and higher than he intended. The heat was making him irritable and making his control slip. He felt dizzy. The scent of everyone in the room overwhelmed his senses. "Go flirt with someone who actually buys your bullshit. I am tired of it."
He turned on his heel and stormed back to his room. He did not dare to look back. He missed the way Jun’s expression crumbled. He missed the playful light dying out instantly to be replaced by a dark and confused frown.
Jun watched Dylan’s retreating back. The slam of the door echoed in his chest.
"Dammit," Jun hissed under his breath.
He ran a hand through his hair as frustration bubbled up in his throat. Why did he always mess it up? He just wanted Dylan to look at him. He just wanted to get a reaction, a smile, or anything.
Every time Dylan walked into a room, the world seemed to tilt in his direction. Dylan was not classically pretty in the soft Omega way like Nano. He was handsome and sharp with an elegance that was all his own. When his monolid eyes crinkled in genuine laughter, which happened so rarely these days, Jun felt like he had been punched in the gut.
But Dylan hated him. It was obvious.
For five years, Dylan had built a wall between them. He was polite and professional but cold. He let Pepper hug him. He laughed with Thame. But the moment Jun got close, Dylan stiffened like a cat expecting a blow.
"Maybe he just really hates Alphas," Jun muttered to himself. He grabbed a beer from the coffee table and cracked it open. "Maybe I am just too loud for him."
"Or maybe you are just annoying," Pepper commented from the corner. He did not look up from his book.
"Thanks for the support, Per," Jun grumbled.
He sighed and chugged the cold liquid. He tried to wash away the bitter taste of rejection. He stood up. "I am going to bed."
He walked to his own room. It was the one connected to Dylan’s.
Nobody knew the truth about this room arrangement. Five years ago, when they moved into this dorm, Jun had specifically requested this room. He had paid the manager off. He bribed the staff with expensive dinners just to ensure he was placed in the room adjoining Dylan’s.
He knew the connecting door was there. Every night, he stared at it. He had never touched the handle. He was terrified that if he opened it, he would find Dylan disgusted by his intrusion. He respected Dylan’s privacy even if it killed him.
He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. The silence of the night settled in. It was heavy and thick.
Why do you smell so sweet today, Dylan?
Jun furrowed his brows and turned onto his side to face the connecting wall. Even though Dylan claimed to be a Beta, and usually smelled like generic sterile soap or laundry detergent, today was different. There was a faint trace of something else.
It was not a perfume. It was something underlying. It was something that made Jun’s mouth water instinctively. It was like honey left out in the sun. Or a flower just beginning to bloom.
"Probably just a new shampoo," Jun tried to convince himself as he closed his eyes. "You are imagining things because you are desperate, Jun."
But his Alpha instincts were restless. They were pacing inside his mind. They scratched at the door and growled that something was wrong. Or perhaps, something was finally right.
Midnight.
The suppressants were not working. The double dose had failed.
Dylan curled up in a tight ball on his bed and sweated profusely. His body felt like it was melting into the sheets. The fever was different this time. It wasn't just a wave. It was a tsunami crashing down on his defenses. The dam he had built for five years was cracking. Fissures spread rapidly through his control.
It hurts. It hurts. It is too hot.
His internal chemistry had been suppressed for so long, and it rebounded with a vengeance.
The scent of Freesia was usually light, floral, and barely there. But now it began to thicken in the air. It turned dark and syrupy. It mixed with the scent of raw and organic Honey. It was not the polite scent of a perfume. It was the heavy and musk laden pheromones of an Omega in peak heat who was desperate to be mated.
The neutralizer spray he had used earlier did not stand a chance. The scent filled the room. It saturated the curtains, the carpet, and the very air itself.
In the silence of the luxury villa, the air pressure shifted. And the first place that scent invaded was the room connected by the thin and unlocked wooden door.
In the next room, Jun woke up with a gasp.
His eyes snapped open. His pupils dilated instantly to swallow the iris, leaving only black pools of instinct.
The smell hit him like a physical blow. It was the most delicious and maddening thing he had ever smelled in his life. It was better than any expensive wine. It was sweeter than any dessert. It triggered every predatory instinct he had buried under his idol persona.
Omega. Heat. Mate.
He sat up with his chest heaving. His gaze locked onto the connecting door. He could see it. Not literally, but he could sense the pheromones pouring through the cracks like invisible smoke.
"Dylan?" Jun whispered. His voice was rough with sleep and sudden, violent arousal.
There was no answer. Only a low and pained whimper came from the other side. A sound of pure distress.
Dylan is in there. And he smells like an Omega.
The realization shattered Jun’s reality. The "Beta" lie, the distance, and the coldness all crumbled under the weight of this undeniable biological truth. Dylan was in heat. And he was alone.
Jun stood up. He moved like a man possessed. He was drawn by an ancient gravity he could not resist. He walked to the connecting door. His hand reached for the handle he had sworn never to touch.
Click.
It was not locked.
Jun turned the handle.