Work Text:
It started on a Monday, like all truly cursed things do.
Jeno was five minutes late to the quarterly budget review meeting, his usual express train jammed with a maintenance delay. He adjusted the cuff of his blazer as he stepped into the large conference room of the Seoul Tech Consolidated headquarters, mentally preparing himself for the smell of overused cologne and the usual bickering between sales and marketing. The air was stale with stress and caffeine, but somewhere—soft and fleeting—there was a sweetness threading through it. Honeyed peaches and powdered sugar.
He blinked. His Alpha instincts didn’t stir with urgency, but they… paused. Ears perked, metaphorically. Curiosity bloomed where there should’ve been annoyance. He knew that scent. No, he didn’t. But he wanted to.
Jeno shook it off, brushing past assistants balancing laptops and stacks of reports, sliding into his assigned seat at the elongated U-shaped table with practiced ease.
And there he was. Across the room, seated between two stoic executives and sipping a tall glass of water, was a new face. Or at least new to Jeno. The omega’s lips were pillowy and bitten pink, the kind of mouth that made Jeno’s brain short-circuit for a split second before he caught himself. Their eyes met.
The omega blinked first. Then smiled—small, polite, but far too deliberate.
A nameplate rested on the table in front of him: Na Jaemin, Assistant Manager, Acquisitions Division.
Acquisitions. That made no sense. Jeno had scoured the corporate database during his transition into Team Lead for Corporate Strategy just three weeks ago, and there had been no mention of a Jaemin. He would’ve remembered. Pretty omegas weren’t exactly a rare breed in Seoul, but ones that smiled like they knew things?
That was dangerous.
Jeno glanced back down at his folder. Numbers, charts, projections. And still, the scent lingered. Jaemin sat calmly, cross-legged in neatly tailored slacks, pale wrists visible under rolled cuffs. A hint of glimmering oil shimmered where his gland met the open neck of his collar. Peach, powdered sugar… and something floral. Jasmine, maybe. Not even in pre-heat. Just naturally fragrant. It was deeply unfair.
When the meeting adjourned, Jeno had intended to beeline for the door and maybe stalk the break room until the scent faded from his nose, but he’d barely gotten halfway down the hallway before—
“Oh! Sorry, excuse me—Alpha Jeno, right?”
A soft collision against his side. A spill of documents. Jeno caught one fluttering binder mid-air.
Jaemin.
Of course it was Jaemin.
The omega looked sheepish, cheeks tinged in rose, fingers fumbling for a folder that had landed by Jeno’s shoe. “I’m such a mess today. You’d think with how long I’ve been in the department, I’d know better than to carry everything without a binder clip.”
Jeno bent down wordlessly, handing him a stack. Their fingers brushed. The scent hit him like a memory he hadn’t made yet.
“No problem,” Jeno murmured, unsure of what else to say.
“Thanks,” Jaemin replied, flashing that same too-knowing smile as he straightened. “Hope the numbers weren’t too brutal in there.”
“I’ve had worse.” Jeno didn’t smile, but something in him tugged toward warmth. “You said you’ve been in the department a while?”
Jaemin’s lashes fluttered. “Technically, yeah. I transferred to this branch two weeks ago. You probably didn’t notice—people don’t usually do unless I bump into them.”
He was teasing. Lightly. Innocently.
Jeno didn’t take the bait. “Nice to meet you, Assistant Manager Na.”
And then he walked off.
Jaemin stared after him for a moment, lips pressed into a thoughtful pout.
Mission status: minor interaction achieved.
He allowed himself a tiny grin before turning down the opposite hallway.
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The second encounter happened that Friday, in the elevator.
Jeno was headed to the 34th floor after a budget pitch, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh. The day had been long, caffeine was not doing its job, and his patience with the finance department had finally worn thin. The doors slid open—and there he was again. Na Jaemin, holding a reusable coffee cup with a bunny sticker on it and a faint smile, standing alone.
“Floor?” Jeno asked without thinking as he stepped in.
“Thirty-four,” Jaemin answered, voice soft and steady.
“Huh.” Jeno pressed the button beside his own.
The doors slid closed. Silence. Scent. Sweet again, subtle like sugar melting on a hot tongue. This time it was a bit stronger, possibly post-shower. Jeno tried not to imagine what Jaemin looked like soaking wet, steam curling over the hollow of his throat, droplets clinging to his inner thighs—
“Rough week?”
Jeno blinked, startled. “What?”
Jaemin tilted his head. “You sighed.”
“I did?”
“Mm. You don’t seem like the type to sigh unless provoked.”
Jeno looked at him. Really looked. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
“No,” Jaemin agreed, cocking a brow. “But I’d like to.”
Jeno didn’t respond.
The elevator dinged. Floor 34.
Jaemin stepped out first. His shoulder brushed Jeno’s as he passed.
“Have a good weekend, Jeno.”
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Elsewhere in the building, on a shared doc in his personal email, Jaemin opened a note titled “Operation Meet-Cute: Phase 1 – Passive Proximity & Strategic Timing.” He typed:
✅ Budget Meeting Setup
✅ Elevator Scent Proximity
✅ Polite Shoulder Bump
❌ Eye Contact Longer Than 5 Seconds
❌ Flustered Reaction from Jeno
Progress: Acceptable.
Goal: Direct interaction initiated by Alpha within 2 weeks.
He hit save. Then giggled.
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Jaemin didn’t usually go this far. He wasn’t the type to chase. But Jeno—Lee Jeno—was different.
He’d first heard Jeno’s name years ago, murmured over the mouth of a champagne flute at a company mixer. “Brilliant alpha. Efficient. Cold but loyal. Likes numbers more than people.” That had been the rumor. But Jaemin? He’d remembered th eyes. The way Jeno had pulled a senior manager aside that same night and corrected an entire cost-benefit model with calm confidence, earning three offers from rival divisions by Monday.
Jaemin had watched from behind a crowd of people that night. Invisible, curious, and oddly enthralled. He’d been planning ever since. Transferring to Jeno’s department had taken strings. Timing the elevator ride had taken spreadsheets. Matching his scent blockers with just the right ratio of natural peach oil and suppressants to not trigger heat warnings? Trial and error. Weeks of it.
But Jaemin was patient. And alphas were easy to bait when you knew exactly what they wanted.
He shut his laptop slowly, letting the click echo in his quiet, sunlit office.
“Two weeks,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ll talk to me, Jeno. One way or another.”
And soon? He wouldn’t stop.
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Jeno was running behind again.
Not because of train delays this time, but because he’d knocked over his bottle of cologne and spent the better part of fifteen minutes cleaning it off his dresser, then his palms, then swapping jackets because the scent was too sharp. He hated being late. It disrupted the rhythm of his day—especially on Mondays.
His watch blinked 9:16.
By the time he reached the break room, the fresh coffee had already been picked clean by the early birds. All that was left was half a pot of lukewarm hazelnut roast and a stack of bent wooden stirrers. He poured it anyway. Burnt caffeine was better than none. Then the scent hit him again. Peach and jasmine. Subtle, present, familiar now. He turned before he could stop himself.
Jaemin stood at the vending machine, back turned, pressing a button with the tip of one slender finger. He was dressed down today—sky-blue cardigan, loose slacks, a tucked-in shirt with little embroidery detailing along the collar. Bunny-shaped, again. The machine whirred, and a can of honey lemon tea thunked into the bin. As Jaemin turned, his eyes found Jeno’s instantly, as though he’d known he was there.
“Oh,” he said, blinking like he was surprised. “You’re here early today.”
“I’m late,” Jeno said bluntly.
Jaemin hummed, lips pursed as he fished out his drink. “Time is relative. Some of us don’t really function until after nine fifteen anyway.”
“You do this a lot?”
“Do what?”
“Hang out near the break room after nine fifteen?”
Jaemin grinned, and Jeno regretted the question instantly.
“Only on days ending with Y.”
He brushed past Jeno then, slow and warm. His scent curled like fingers at Jeno’s nape, and it took everything in the alpha’s control not to close his eyes and lean in. Jaemin stood close enough to reach for a stirrer beside him, close enough that their sleeves grazed.
“Hazelnut’s awful,” Jaemin whispered. “Try the lemon tea from the vending machine. Less bitter.”
He left without another word, can cradled between his palms.
Jeno stood there a beat too long before sighing and dumping his coffee down the sink.
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Jaemin sat at his desk, staring at his screen, not seeing a single number in the spreadsheet he’d opened. He replayed the interaction in his head for the sixth time in ten minutes. No flinching. No avoidance. Jeno had actually followed the scent. He’d spoken first, sort of. Jaemin had timed the vending machine drop, the break room detour, and his outfit to match the color palette of comfort. But the rest? Jeno’s stare, his scent tightening just slightly, the minute hesitation before he dumped his coffee?
That was real.
Jaemin bit his lip and squealed quietly into his fist, earning a concerned glance from one of his colleagues across the row of cubicles. He cleared his throat and returned to work. Sort of.
He couldn’t wait to log it all in the note later.
It was the rooftop that sealed it.
Jeno didn’t know why he ended up there that Wednesday. He just needed air, space. Too many department heads had yelled at each other during morning meetings, and someone in operations had triggered a scent incident in the south wing. His nose had been on edge all day. He’d found the rooftop unlocked and empty.
Or so he thought.
The first thing he noticed was the breeze. Then, the sound of a thermos being unscrewed. And then that scent—Jaemin’s scent—softened by sunshine and carried by the wind.
Jeno turned, unsurprised to see the omega sitting on a low wall, feet dangling, sipping from his thermos like he had every right to be the highlight of the entire cityscape.
Jaemin looked at him without surprise. “You’re here.”
“So are you.”
“I come here often. It’s quiet. Feels like a different world.”
Jeno leaned against the opposite railing, arms crossed. “You’re always where I end up.”
Jaemin chuckled, no denial in his voice. “Is that so?”
Jeno didn’t answer.
For a long moment, they shared the quiet. Office windows shimmered below them. A distant horn echoed in the air. Jaemin poured more tea into his lid and took another sip.
“I like places like this,” he said eventually. “Where I can be alone and still feel like I’m part of something bigger. Cities buzz, but they also… hold you. Even when you’re just watching.”
Jeno studied him, unable to stop himself.
“Do you come here alone?” he asked before thinking.
Jaemin looked at him, eyes steady. “Only when I need to think.”
Jeno didn’t say anything for a beat, then finally asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Jaemin’s lips parted. But he didn’t speak right away.
Then, with a soft voice, “Whether I’m being too obvious.”
Jeno’s jaw tightened.
“About what?”
Jaemin stood, walked toward him slowly, carefully. His scent grew stronger—still not in heat, but like the soft sigh of it would come soon. A promise hanging in the air.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention,” Jaemin admitted quietly. “I didn’t know if it was working.”
Jeno’s pupils dilated.
Jaemin stopped just out of arm’s reach, eyes warm. “I didn’t want to be aggressive. You seem like the type who doesn’t like being chased.”
“I don’t.”
“Then maybe…” Jaemin tilted his head. “I just wanted to be found.”
It wasn’t a confession. Not really.
But it was enough to spark something low in Jeno’s chest—hot, aching, possessive.
The breeze shifted, and Jaemin’s scent hit him full force, clean and sweet, dizzying.
Jeno stepped forward before he realized he was moving.
Jaemin didn’t step back.
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The wind held its breath.
Jeno didn’t know what he was doing. Only that his feet moved on their own, closing the small, charged distance between them. Jaemin’s eyes stayed open, wide and unblinking, pupils rimmed with glinting omega sheen—just shy of glassy. His scent curled sweetly around them now. Not bold, not pleading, but deliberate. A whisper against Jeno’s skin.
And when Jeno stopped just a breath away, Jaemin tilted his head slightly, baring his neck—not in submission, not in desperation, but in quiet offering. He smelled like the soft ache of wanting. Like peaches and sugar simmering on low heat. Something teasing at the edge of bloom. Still no heat, but the beginning of it, maybe. Or the illusion of it. That dangerous, honey-thick in-between.
“You planned this,” Jeno murmured.
Jaemin’s lips curved.
“Maybe.”
Jeno didn’t speak. Didn’t move. His body wanted to react. His instincts tugged insistently, claws dull but present against the inside of his ribs. But his mind—the rational part—reminded him that this was a workplace. That this was an omega he barely knew. That this entire thing was strange.
“I’m not like most alphas,” he finally said.
Jaemin blinked. “I know.”
“You think you know,” Jeno corrected.
To his surprise, Jaemin nodded slowly. “You don’t chase what’s easy. You don’t like attention. You value silence more than words. You analyze more than you assume. You don’t fall for a pretty face. You notice intent.”
Jeno stared at him.
Jaemin’s voice lowered, soft as a breath. “And you’re noticing mine now.”
The wind picked up again, tousling Jaemin’s hair. He stood close enough for Jeno to feel the omega’s warmth without touching him. A pulse beat fast under Jaemin’s scent gland, visible where his cardigan collar dipped low on one side. Jeno shifted closer. But he didn’t reach out. Not yet.
Instead, he asked quietly, “Why me?”
Jaemin smiled, but this one wasn’t coy. It was gentle. Honest.
“Because you look like someone who wouldn’t break me just to prove he could.”
Jeno’s throat tightened. Jaemin stepped back then, slow and careful, like easing away from a ledge. His fingers smoothed the front of his cardigan. His scent slowly receded, leaving a sweet haze that clung to Jeno’s skin.
“I should get back to my desk,” Jaemin said softly. “But I’m glad you came up here.”
Jeno didn’t reply. He couldn’t.
As Jaemin turned and walked toward the rooftop door, he left a trail of scent behind him—faint but unforgettable. Like the trace of a kiss that hadn’t happened yet.
Jeno exhaled hard.
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The next day, Jaemin wore a button-down that hugged his waist. Jeno noticed immediately. He hated himself for noticing, but he did. He noticed the way Jaemin’s hips curved beneath tailored slacks. He noticed the shimmer of scent balm under the omega’s ears. He noticed how Jaemin sat two rows ahead during the inter-departmental presentation and twirled his pen in long, elegant fingers.
Jeno wasn’t watching. He was… monitoring. For safety reasons. Because Jaemin was dangerous. No, that wasn’t right. Jaemin wasn’t dangerous. He was deliberate. And that was worse. That meant he knew what he was doing. That every tilt of his head, every timing of his elevator rides, every breath of scent was intentional. And now Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about how that scent might taste.
He tapped his pen once, twice, three times against the inside of his folder. At the front of the room, someone was discussing risk reduction and cross-functional collaboration. Jeno wasn’t listening. All he could hear was Jaemin’s voice from the rooftop.
“You’re noticing mine now.”
His fingers tightened around the pen until it cracked.
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Lunch break was a blur.
He tried to escape to the stairwell to get air, but Jaemin was already there—leaning against the railing with a sandwich half-unwrapped in his hands. No tea this time. Just his scent and a tiny smile. Jeno froze.
“I didn’t follow you,” Jaemin said, reading the tension in his shoulders.
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You thought it.”
Jeno walked past him without speaking, stopping on the landing where the stairwell window overlooked a sea of distant rooftops.
Silence stretched between them like something intimate.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Jaemin said softly behind him.
Jeno didn’t turn. He didn’t say anything for a long time.
Then, finally, “Why would I want that?”
There it was again—that tension pulling low in his belly, coiling where instinct met desire. His mind fought to stay cold, controlled, but Jaemin made it hard.
Too pretty.
Too close.
Too aware.
He could feel the omega’s presence behind him like sunlight against the back of his neck. Warm. Dangerous. Inviting. Then Jaemin moved. Not toward him—but down. Past him.
“Enjoy your air, Alpha,” he murmured, brushing Jeno’s elbow as he passed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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That night, Jeno lay in bed with his shirt off and his wrist pressed against his nose. It smelled like faint sugar. And maybe—just maybe—a ghost of peach. He couldn’t be sure. But he wanted to be.
He shifted under the covers, restless. His cock had been half-hard for hours and wouldn’t go down. Not even after a cold shower. Not even after grinding against his palm, breath shallow and jaw clenched. The problem wasn’t his arousal. The problem was who it was for.
He’d barely touched the omega. Barely spoken more than a dozen sentences. But Jaemin’s presence was already carved into his senses. The sound of his voice. The glimmer of his lip balm. The way his lashes kissed his cheeks when he blinked slow.
Jeno’s teeth ached from restraint. He rolled onto his stomach, growling into his pillow. He needed to stay focused. Stay professional. But his cock twitched again as his mind flashed back to Jaemin’s neck. The way he’d tilted it. Offered it. And that damn smile.
Jeno groaned. This was bad.
He was already hooked.
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Thursday morning felt warmer than usual.
It wasn’t the weather—it was Jaemin. More specifically, the seat Jaemin had taken beside Jeno in the open-planning committee meeting. The table was small. Too small. They sat side by side with elbows nearly brushing, the soft, rhythmic tapping of Jaemin’s pen far too noticeable. And that scent. It wasn’t as faint anymore. It no longer lingered softly in the air like something easily ignored. Now it hung low, rich and mellow, edged with the syrupy undertone of just before heat. Still controlled, still restrained by scent blockers and suppressants, but barely.
Jeno’s nostrils flared. Peach nectar, warm and ripe. Sugar, sticky and slow. Something green underneath it all, like freshly torn leaves. A warning. And Jaemin acted like it was nothing. He leaned forward during the presentation, one hand planted casually on the table, the other scribbling notes that Jeno was fairly sure were mostly doodles of his name. His thigh pressed lightly against Jeno’s. Not pushing. Just there.
Jeno clenched his jaw and stared at the screen. The slides were about sustainability budgeting. His cock was hard. He shifted in his seat, but Jaemin didn’t move away. In fact, he tilted slightly closer, like he was trying to peer over Jeno’s notes.
“Your handwriting is neat,” Jaemin whispered, voice coated in sweetness.
“You’re distracting,” Jeno whispered back, barely able to breathe.
Jaemin didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I hope so.”
When the meeting ended, Jaemin didn’t leave right away. He waited until the room cleared out, then leaned over Jeno’s shoulder, breath hot near his ear.
“I know you’re fighting it,” he said softly.
Jeno didn’t look at him.
“You don’t have to,” Jaemin added. “Not with me.”
Jeno’s pulse thundered in his throat. He finally turned his head just enough to meet Jaemin’s eyes—dark, gleaming, steady.
“You keep showing up where I am,” Jeno said.
“I know.”
“You’re scenting strong.”
“I know.”
“You’re not in heat yet.”
“I know.”
Jeno exhaled through his nose.
Jaemin smiled.
“I’m careful,” the omega said gently. “I’ve tested the balance for weeks. I know what I’m doing.”
“And what is it that you want?” Jeno asked, voice low and dangerous.
Jaemin’s smile turned slow. Soft. A little cruel.
“You.”
Then he pulled away.
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The break room was empty when Jeno entered later that day, hoping to splash cold water on his face and clear his head. But the scent hit him before he even reached the sink. Peach. Wet, warm. Laced now with the unmistakable edge of slick. He stopped dead in his tracks. The scent was faint—barely there—but it was real.
He turned toward the corner stall beside the supply cabinet and froze. Jaemin stood there, hand pressed to the countertop, thighs clenched. His face was flushed, lips parted, a tremble running through his fingers. He looked dazed, dizzy.
Jeno didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
Jaemin turned slowly, already caught, eyes dark and wet. His scent poured out of him now in little waves. Not a full heat—Jeno would’ve gone feral—but a slip of it, the start of something his suppressants couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I’m sorry,” Jaemin said, voice hoarse, “I didn’t think anyone would come in—”
Jeno’s feet moved on their own. He stopped a breath away.
“You’re leaking.”
Jaemin swallowed.
“I didn’t mean to—my cycle’s off. I was only trying to ride the edge. Just a little scent push. But I got too close and now it’s—” He shuddered, thighs rubbing together involuntarily. “It’s not even that much.”
It was enough. Enough for Jeno to feel it against his tongue. That sweetness. That warmth. That promise.
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” Jaemin whispered.
“You didn’t need to.”
A long pause stretched between them. Jaemin’s body swayed, hips shifting minutely forward. His voice dropped.
“Will you help me?”
Jeno’s hands twitched at his sides.
“You shouldn’t tease alphas,” he murmured.
Jaemin licked his lips, one hand sliding to the front of his slacks. There was a wet spot beginning to soak through.
“I wasn’t teasing.”
He pressed his fingers between his legs and whined, just once. That broke something. Jeno’s hand shot forward, grabbing Jaemin by the waist, pinning him to the cabinet with a growl so deep it made Jaemin gasp.
“Say stop,” Jeno said through clenched teeth.
Jaemin’s breath hitched. “No.”
Jeno’s nose pressed to the crook of Jaemin’s neck and he inhaled, deep and primal. His cock throbbed in his slacks, straining hard. Jaemin moaned outright, bucking into the friction of Jeno’s thigh, slick beginning to soak through his pants in earnest. Still clothed. Still untouched. And already filthy.
Jeno’s mouth hovered over the edge of Jaemin’s jaw, scent drunk and snarling.
“You knew what you were doing,” he growled.
Jaemin nodded helplessly.
“And now you want to be ruined for it?”
“Yes,” Jaemin whispered, voice thick.
Jaemin’s eyes fluttered closed as Jeno’s thigh pressed harder between his legs, the ridge of muscle slotting perfectly against the mess gathering at the seam of his slacks. His scent burst, hot and syrupy now, no longer innocent. It coated the air in a haze that made Jeno’s mouth water.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” Jeno gritted out, voice dropping rough into his throat.
“I do,” Jaemin replied, rolling his hips shamelessly against the pressure. “I planned this, remember?”
That did it.
Jeno kissed him—not sweetly, not like someone savoring a crush—but like an Alpha starved too long for something he wasn’t supposed to have. Teeth clacked. Tongues tangled. Jaemin moaned into his mouth, sharp and breathless, as Jeno swallowed the sound down and gave him more. Hands gripped Jaemin’s ass through his pants, squeezing hard, dragging him forward until their hips ground together with friction that made both of them gasp. Slick bled through the omega’s slacks now in a damp patch that soaked into Jeno’s thigh, warm and humiliating and exactly what Jaemin wanted.
“Take them off,” Jeno growled, dragging his mouth down Jaemin’s jaw, biting beneath his ear. “Right now.”
Jaemin whimpered, hands already fumbling with his belt, legs trembling.
“No one comes in here around this time,” he panted. “I checked.”
“Of course you did,” Jeno muttered, yanking Jaemin’s slacks down himself, knuckles brushing bare thighs—and lower, between them, where slick dripped freely from the puffy folds of Jaemin’s pussy.
Jeno went still. Then cursed under his breath.
“You’re already soaking.”
Jaemin bit his lip, flushed and panting. “I told you… I got too close.”
Jeno dropped to his knees.
“Good,” he growled.
Jeno’s knees hit the floor with a thud softened by the sound of Jaemin’s breath hitching. The omega gripped the edge of the supply cabinet behind him with one hand, the other fisting in Jeno’s hair without realizing it, trembling from the inside out. The alpha’s hands gripped both thighs and pushed them apart. Jaemin staggered a bit, half out of his slacks now, underwear pulled to the side. His pussy glistened in the low office light—folds flushed, swollen, flushed pink and messy. Slick clung to the soft skin of his inner thighs, dripping down the curve between them like syrup.
“Fuck,” Jeno muttered, his voice low and reverent, breath ghosting over Jaemin’s cunt. “You planned everything but didn’t expect to be this wet?”
Jaemin whined, bucking forward slightly. “I didn’t plan for you to get on your knees.”
“Then you planned wrong.”
Jeno leaned in and licked.
It was filthy from the first swipe—his tongue dragging slow from Jaemin’s dripping entrance to the sensitive little nub at the top. The taste was overwhelming, slick sweet and salty and hot, and Jeno groaned like he’d just gotten the first sip of something he’d been dying for. Jaemin cried out, hips jerking forward against his mouth. He clapped a hand over his mouth a second too late, muffling the next moan that tumbled out when Jeno sealed his mouth around his clit and sucked hard.
“Jeno—”
His name sounded dangerous from Jaemin’s mouth. Pleading. Slurred.
The alpha growled into him, arms tightening around Jaemin’s thighs, holding him in place while his tongue worked firm, wet strokes over his clit before dipping low again—into the slick entrance of Jaemin’s pussy, licking into him like he was starved.
“Too much,” Jaemin whimpered, thighs trembling as his knees knocked together, trying to close. “Fuck, you’re—Jeno—!”
Jeno didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Jaemin was leaking so much slick it was coating his chin, making everything obscene and wet. The omega’s folds fluttered with every pass of Jeno’s tongue, every suction of his lips, every soft groan that vibrated directly against Jaemin’s soaked cunt.
He moved lower. Flattened his tongue and licked into him again—deeper this time—fucking him slow with it while his thumbs spread Jaemin open further.
“You’re so tight,” he murmured between licks, breath wet against Jaemin’s slit. “So needy.”
“I need—I need—”
Jeno slipped a finger in.
Jaemin choked.
One thick finger pressed into the snug, slick walls of his pussy and was immediately swallowed up. Jaemin gripped the cabinet harder, knuckles white, head thrown back against the wall as Jeno’s finger curled inside him.
“Alpha—!”
The word slipped out unbidden, broken, desperate. Jeno’s cock throbbed painfully in his slacks. He wanted to rip them off. Bend Jaemin over this fucking cabinet and take him raw until the office walls rattled with his moans. But not yet. Not yet. Not until Jaemin couldn’t stand anymore. Another finger.
Jaemin gasped. His pussy stretched around it, walls fluttering, pulsing wetly around both digits. Jeno fucked him slowly—thick fingers pumping in and out, curl just right, tongue back on his clit again and again, never relenting.
“Don’t stop,” Jaemin begged, barely audible behind the hand still clamped over his mouth. “Please—please, please don’t stop—”
His thighs quivered violently. His whole body pitched forward, hips grinding shamelessly down onto Jeno’s face. He was falling apart, dripping down the alpha’s wrist, flushed from his chest to his ears, whimpering like his lungs were collapsing.
“C’mon,” Jeno growled against his clit. “Give it to me.”
And Jaemin shattered. He came with a soft, stuttering cry, slick gushing around Jeno’s fingers as his pussy clamped down tight, fluttering helplessly through the waves of his orgasm. His knees gave out, and Jeno caught him, lifting him just enough to guide him down to the tile, holding him while he trembled in the aftermath. Jaemin clung to him. His mouth found Jeno’s shoulder, then his neck, panting hard. His scent was everywhere now—peach syrup and sugar and slick, thick and sticky in the air, clinging to the walls. Jeno’s face was drenched in it, jaw slick, fingers soaked, cock aching with the need to be buried inside the omega still pulsing around nothing now.
Jaemin leaned up and kissed him. Messy. Desperate. Lips parted, tongue tasting himself on Jeno’s mouth, moaning low when he felt the alpha’s cock pressing against his thigh through slacks. Still trapped. Still clothed.
“You didn’t come,” Jaemin whispered, licking into his mouth.
“I didn’t plan to,” Jeno replied, voice rough.
Jaemin smiled, fucked-out and beautiful. “Then you’re going to be such a mess later.”
Jeno didn’t answer. Not with words. He bit. Right at the edge of Jaemin’s jaw, just shy of the gland. A sharp drag of his teeth, enough to bruise, to make Jaemin gasp and clutch at him harder. The omega’s thighs tried to squeeze together again, instinctively seeking pressure—but Jeno was still between them, fingers drenched, chin shining with slick and spit.
“Don’t say things like that unless you mean them,” Jeno warned, voice hoarse, eyes black.
“I do,” Jaemin panted, hands sliding down the alpha’s chest, finding the bulge in his slacks and giving it a deliberate press. “I meant everything.”
Jeno hissed. His hips bucked forward, chasing the contact. It was barely friction, but Jaemin’s palm was so warm, so confident, so filthy with slick from where he’d just come all over Jeno’s hand. It made Jeno snarl, grabbing his wrist, pinning it above his head in one fast movement.
“You wanted my attention,” he growled, leaning in until their noses brushed. “You fucking have it.”
Jaemin looked up at him, flushed and smiling, still dazed and wrecked.
“I know.”
Jeno kissed him again—harder this time, teeth dragging, tongue messy and demanding. He couldn’t remember how they ended up back on their feet, half-dressed and panting against the cabinet again. All he knew was that Jaemin was pressed to his chest, legs weak, panties soaked and pushed aside, and Jeno’s cock was about to come out. And when it did? He wouldn’t stop until Jaemin couldn’t walk.
Jeno’s patience snapped.
It happened the moment Jaemin whispered, “Want you inside,” against his neck.
He didn’t waste time unbuckling—he ripped his slacks open, zipper half-caught on his briefs before he shoved both down in one furious motion. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, angry red, leaking. The head was slick with precum, glistening and flushed, thick and curved upward with a visible pulse throbbing down the vein along the underside. Jaemin stared. Then moaned.
“Oh my god—”
“Turn around,” Jeno snarled.
Jaemin obeyed instantly, dizzy and aching, hands pressed to the cabinet surface as he bent forward, arching his back. His panties were still shoved to the side, his pussy puffy and pink, folds spread and dripping slick in glossy strings. His cunt clenched reflexively as the alpha moved behind him, heat rising off his skin.
Jeno spat into his hand and smeared it along his length—unnecessary with how soaked Jaemin was, but primal, instinctive, messy. He gripped Jaemin’s waist with both hands, thumbs digging into the plush meat of his hips.
And then he pushed in. Slow at first—just the thick head stretching Jaemin’s cunt wide, sinking between his folds with a slick squelch that made them both groan. Jaemin’s knees buckled.
“Oh fuck—Jeno—fuck, you’re big—”
“You’re tight,” Jeno panted, voice cracking. “So fucking wet—shit—”
He sank deeper. Inch by inch, stuffing Jaemin full. The omega’s walls fluttered wildly, clinging, suctioning, greedy and hot. Slick spilled around Jeno’s cock as he bottomed out with a low, guttural growl. Jaemin arched, gasping.
“F-Fuck, yes—fill me, alpha—please—”
Jeno snapped his hips forward, making Jaemin cry out, thighs shaking. And then he started fucking him. Hard. Wet slaps echoed through the room as his hips pistoned against Jaemin’s ass, dragging back and slamming in, thick cock plowing into slick heat with no resistance. Jaemin was already moaning uncontrollably, face mashed against the cabinet, cheek flushed and glossy from sweat.
Jeno bent low, chest flush to Jaemin’s back, fucking him deeper, rutting into the clutch of that pretty little pussy like he was made for it.
“Planned everything but didn’t expect this, did you?” he growled into Jaemin’s ear.
Jaemin sobbed.
“I—I wanted—fuck—wanted this—just like this—wanted to make you—lose it—!”
“You did,” Jeno snarled, teeth grazing Jaemin’s scent gland. “You win. You fucking win.”
Jaemin’s pussy gushed around him, squeezing tighter, clenching as if to drag Jeno deeper, milk him dry.
“More,” Jaemin begged. “Breed me—fill me—please—Jeno—Alpha—!”
Jeno went feral. His hips slammed forward again and again, cock punching deep with every thrust. His knot hadn’t swollen yet, but he could feel it tingling, the instinct beginning to bloom. His balls slapped wetly against Jaemin’s pussy with every movement, coated in slick, obscene and sticky. The omega was a mess beneath him. Panting. Slurring. Hands clutching at nothing, body trembling as he was fucked against the cabinet like he weighed nothing. Slick pooled between his thighs, dripping to the floor in fat strings.
“You’re so perfect like this,” Jeno gritted out, fucking into him harder. “So fucking pretty… soaked for me… greedy little cunt begging to be bred.”
Jaemin mewled, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“D-Don’t stop—please don’t stop—want your knot, Alpha—please—please—!”
That word again.
Alpha.
It hit Jeno like lightning.
He grabbed Jaemin by the nape and bit—not breaking skin, not yet, but marking hard with pressure while his knot began to swell. His thrusts slowed but grew heavier, more deliberate, grinding deep as the base of his cock stretched the entrance of Jaemin’s cunt. The omega gasped.
“I-I feel it—”
“Take it,” Jeno growled, forcing it deeper.
Jaemin screamed. His pussy stretched wide, lips split open around the knot as it slid past the tight ring, locking them together. Jaemin’s body seized, clamping down around Jeno’s cock, milking him ruthlessly. His orgasm hit like a wave crashing over both of them—loud, wet, trembling. And Jeno followed. With a strangled roar, he thrust one last time and came. Thick ropes of cum shot into Jaemin’s cunt, flooding him. So much that it leaked around the knot, dribbling down his thighs, hot and endless. Jeno trembled, chest heaving as he stayed locked inside, arms tight around Jaemin’s torso, anchoring him through the aftershocks. They were still. Panting. Sticky. Bound.
Jaemin was crying softly, high and breathless, still pulsing around the knot inside him. His belly felt warm. Full. Jeno nosed at the back of his neck, breathing him in.
“Mine,” he growled.
Jaemin smiled, half-conscious.
“You’re late.”
Jeno blinked. “What?”
“For work,” Jaemin whispered, giggling. “We’ve been in here for… twenty-three minutes.”
Jeno groaned and buried his face in his neck.
“Fuck,” Jeno muttered, his voice muffled against Jaemin’s sweat-damp skin. “We’re so getting written up for this.”
Jaemin only giggled again, lazy and sated, cheek smushed against the cold cabinet surface. “Only if someone smells it. Which they will. Eventually.”
Jeno growled, pulling Jaemin back flush against his chest as they stayed locked together, his knot still thick and pulsing inside Jaemin’s soaked cunt. The wet squelch of every slight movement between them was obscene, the entire break room smelling like raw sex and omega slick—peach-heavy, musky, and potent.
“You’re leaking around it,” Jeno said, glancing down at the creamy dribble sliding down Jaemin’s thighs.
“I can’t help it,” Jaemin whispered with a tiny gasp. “You bred me so deep—my body’s not used to this.”
Jeno groaned, pressing a kiss to the side of his flushed face. “You’re not making this any easier.”
Jaemin wiggled back against him with a weak little grind. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Jeno muttered. “Sneaky little omega.”
“Mmhm,” Jaemin breathed, closing his eyes. “Yours now though.”
That made Jeno freeze. Not from fear—but from truth.
He nosed along Jaemin’s cheek, heart pounding behind his ribs. “Yeah,” he whispered. “You are.”
Their fingers laced together on the cabinet top, slick dripping quietly beneath them, breaths tangled and deep.
They stayed like that—locked, raw, full—for several more minutes, until Jaemin softly said:
“…Wanna go again when the knot goes down?”
Jeno groaned into his neck. “We are not leaving this break room until you say so.”
Jaemin just grinned.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
They stayed locked together far too long.
Twenty minutes became thirty. Then thirty-five.
The sticky heat between Jaemin’s thighs hadn’t cooled at all—in fact, every tiny shift sent more of Jeno’s cum spilling around the knot still locked deep inside him. His pussy throbbed, overfilled and sore in a way that felt both humiliating and deeply, terribly good. His inner walls flexed every time Jeno moved, even an inch, and Jaemin was starting to tremble again, the overstimulation curling his toes.
“You need to stop breathing on my neck like that,” Jaemin murmured.
“I’m literally just breathing,” Jeno growled, voice rough and low. “You’re the one who’s squeezing every time I inhale.”
Jaemin smirked. “Maybe I like the way you smell.”
“Maybe I’m going to fuck you again before we even get out of here.”
Jaemin shivered. “Maybe I want that.”
Jeno groaned softly, pressing his forehead to Jaemin’s temple. Their position had shifted slightly—Jaemin was now sitting on the edge of the cabinet, his legs parted lazily, cunt still spread wide and stuffed full of alpha cock. Jeno stood between them, sweat-damp shirt hanging open, hands anchored at Jaemin’s hips. The knot was finally starting to deflate, just barely, but neither of them wanted to move.
Or talk about what came next.
“So,” Jaemin said after a long pause. “About work…”
Jeno made a sound halfway between a growl and a sigh. “Please don’t.”
“I have a 2PM meeting.”
“I have a whole-ass quarterly review with executive finance.”
Jaemin blinked, then giggled.
“We’re disgusting.”
Jeno looked down at the mess between them—slick, cum, sweat, half-buttoned shirts and ruined slacks—and agreed.
“Completely.”
But he didn’t let go.
Jaemin reached up, brushing a damp lock of hair off Jeno’s forehead. “You smell like me.”
Jeno leaned in. “And you smell like mine.”
The knot slipped free with a wet pop a moment later, and Jaemin gasped, instinctively clenching around nothing as cum gushed out of him in a slow, sticky stream. It dribbled down to the floor, strings of white connecting them still, strands breaking slowly as Jeno stepped back.
“Holy—fuck,” Jaemin whimpered, one hand reaching between his legs to catch the flood.
Jeno couldn’t stop staring. “I’ve never cum that much in my life.”
Jaemin looked up at him with a dazed little smile. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Say that again while you’re licking it off my thighs later.”
Jeno swore under his breath and leaned in to kiss him—less frantic now, more claiming. His lips moved slower, tongues tangling lazily, hands anchoring them together in the aftermath of ruin. Jaemin’s body felt boneless beneath him, warm and flushed and raw all over.
When they broke apart, their foreheads touched.
Jeno exhaled.
“…We can’t just go back to normal,” he murmured.
Jaemin blinked. “Did you want to?”
Jeno didn’t answer.
Jaemin studied him for a long moment. “You’re not a casual type.”
“I’m not,” Jeno said softly.
“I knew that,” Jaemin replied. “That’s why I picked you.”
Something about that phrasing hit Jeno right in the ribs.
“You’re serious?”
“I’ve been watching you since last quarter’s budget sync. You looked so annoyed the whole time, but you still stayed until everyone else got the numbers right. And you caught that mistake in five minutes.”
“That’s what you remember?”
Jaemin leaned in, brushing their noses. “You didn’t roll your eyes once, even when you had every right to. I thought… I’d like an alpha like that. Someone who doesn’t talk over others. Someone who listens.”
Jeno went quiet.
Then murmured, “You manipulated the shit out of me.”
Jaemin smirked. “You liked it.”
He had.
God, he had.
But it wasn’t just the scent games or the soft heat triggers. It was the way Jaemin looked at him now—like he saw him. Like Jeno’s quiet steadiness wasn’t boring or cold, but desirable. Safe. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that.
“I’ll walk you back to your desk,” Jeno said finally.
“I need to shower.”
“We’re in an office.”
Jaemin arched a brow. “You’re rich. Don’t tell me you don’t have access to a private gym floor.”
“…Floor 39,” Jeno muttered.
Jaemin beamed.
Ten minutes later, freshly cleaned but still wearing the same ruined clothes, they stood awkwardly at the service elevator.
“I should probably… go over the risk analysis report,” Jaemin murmured, fidgeting.
Jeno adjusted his collar. “Right. And I need to reformat the finance deck.”
A pause.
“Are we going to pretend this didn’t happen?”
Another pause.
Then Jeno turned, gripped Jaemin’s chin, and kissed him again—firm and final.
“No,” he said simply. “We’re not.”
Jaemin blinked. Then smiled, wide and real.
“Okay.”
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
They stepped in together, quiet, not touching—but the air between them was saturated. Jeno could still smell himself on Jaemin, faint now under layers of soap and office-grade deodorizer, but unmistakably present. A hint of alpha cum beneath sweet omega musk. It made his instincts simmer again, heat curling low in his stomach.
Jaemin caught his gaze in the mirrored wall.
“You’re thinking about it again,” he said.
“Thinking about what?”
“How I smell. How I tasted.”
Jeno didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Jaemin stepped closer. Close enough that their shoulders brushed.
“You can have me again,” he said quietly. “Just say when.”
Jeno’s eyes darkened. “You say that like you’re not the one orchestrating every move.”
“Maybe I want you to think it’s your idea.”
Jeno exhaled hard, gripping the handrail behind him.
“I’m trying to keep this from spiraling,” he muttered.
Jaemin smiled without apology. “You can spiral. Just not publicly.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still hard.”
Jeno’s jaw clenched. Jaemin’s eyes dipped down—and, yeah, the outline of Jeno’s cock was clearly visible again through his slacks, twitching at the omega’s scent and teasing.
“I’ll let you focus,” Jaemin said sweetly as the elevator reached the 27th floor. “For now.”
The doors opened, and Jaemin stepped out without looking back.
Jeno stayed inside, staring straight ahead as the doors closed again.
“…I’m fucked,” he whispered.
Jeno lasted exactly two hours.
He tried to focus. He really did. His laptop was open. His reports were organized. The budget forecast glared at him from the screen. But none of it made it past the fog in his brain. Because Jaemin’s scent was still on him. No one else noticed—no one human, anyway. But Jeno did. His body did. Every inhale reminded him of slick pooling between soft thighs, of Jaemin’s cunt clenching around his cock, of that high, broken voice whispering Alpha like a drug.
And the worst part?
He still wanted more.
Jeno cursed under his breath and closed the spreadsheet he’d been pretending to read for forty-five minutes. His cock was half-hard again, barely soothed by the earlier knotting. His instincts knew he hadn’t finished the job—not properly. His inner alpha clawed at him, aching to pin Jaemin down again, scent-mark him, fuck him until there was nothing left but trembles and whimpers. And Jaemin knew that. Of course he knew.
Which is why, at exactly 4:02 PM, Jeno received a message on the company’s internal chat.
Na Jaemin:
break room.
no cameras.
I’ll be near the vending machine again.
you can smell me if you want.
Jeno’s heart stopped.
Then thudded hard in his chest. He stood before he knew what he was doing, fists clenched at his sides.
The break room was empty.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, striping the floor in soft gold. And there, leaning against the vending machine like he hadn’t spent the morning getting filled to the brim with cum, stood Jaemin. His arms were crossed loosely. His cardigan was off, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His shirt was unbuttoned just low enough to reveal the dip of his collarbone. He was wearing the same soft lip gloss as before.
And his scent—oh, fuck. Peach and something deeper now. Vanilla threaded into it. Warm, honeyed. Richer than this morning. Barely suppressed.
Jeno didn’t speak as he stepped closer.
Jaemin looked up, mouth curled lazily. “You came.”
“You knew I would.”
“I was betting on it.”
Jeno stopped inches away.
His nose twitched. He didn’t even try to hide it. He leaned in, breath hitching, dragging in the omega’s scent directly from the source—right under Jaemin’s ear, along the curve of his neck.
“You’re heating up,” he murmured.
“Not quite,” Jaemin said. “But soon.”
“You’re triggering it on purpose.”
“Mm.” A small shrug. “I told you—I test the balance. Carefully.”
Jeno backed him up against the machine, caging him with both arms.
“Careful?” he asked lowly. “You think this is careful?”
“I think,” Jaemin whispered, eyes darkening, “you want to fuck me again right here. With your scent all over me.”
Jeno snarled. Jaemin gasped when Jeno buried his nose between his neck and shoulder, breathing hard. He didn’t touch—yet—but Jaemin was already squirming, arching slightly against the metal behind him, lips parted.
“Say it,” Jeno growled.
Jaemin’s breath hitched. “Say what?”
“What you want.”
Jaemin licked his lips, scent blooming sweeter.
“I want you to lick me open again,” he whispered, “right here, where anyone could walk in.”
Jeno’s cock throbbed so hard it hurt.
“You’re a menace.”
“I’m your omega.”
Jeno groaned.
ne hand reached between them, gripping Jaemin’s hip. He was already damp. Jeno could feel it through Jaemin’s slacks—the heat, the scent, the beginning of slick soaking the seam. The omega writhed against his palm, whimpering.
“You’ve been dripping since lunch,” Jeno muttered.
“Maybe I haven’t stopped,” Jaemin whispered, looking up at him, lashes fluttering.
That snapped something again. Jeno didn’t care about cameras. He didn’t care about risk. He cared about the way Jaemin spread his legs slightly, hips tilting, thighs begging.
“Come with me,” Jeno growled, fingers curling around Jaemin’s wrist. “Now.”
They didn’t make it far. The janitor’s closet two doors down was small. Cramped. Barely enough room for shelves, a mop sink, and two bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces. Jeno slammed the door shut with his heel, shoving Jaemin back against the wall, lips crashing into his.
This kiss was less frenzy, more control. Still rough. Still hungry. But now… claimed. Jaemin moaned into it, arms looped around Jeno’s neck, fingers digging into his shirt. Their bodies ground together, chest to chest, heat blooming with every movement.
“Want your mouth,” Jaemin whispered, dragging Jeno’s hand down. “Again—please—”
Jeno dropped to his knees without hesitation. Slacks were yanked down. Panties shoved aside. Jaemin’s pussy was already puffy, glistening, folds wet and flushed from nothing but scent and memory. The alpha growled at the sight, licking his lips before diving in with a desperate groan.
Jaemin screamed. Tongue against clit. Two fingers curling deep inside. Slick pouring down his thighs, wet sounds obscene in the silence of the tiny closet.
“Fuck—Jeno—Alpha—!”
His voice was already breaking. And Jeno wasn’t stopping until he came again. Jeno licked him open like he was starving—tongue flat and wide, lapping slow and heavy up Jaemin’s slick folds, then circling his clit with practiced, teasing flicks. Every time Jaemin whimpered or shifted, Jeno adjusted, sucking him harder, tongue dipping down to fuck into his soaked entrance again.
“Fuck,” Jaemin gasped, one hand fisting in Jeno’s hair, the other braced against the wall. “Too good—so fucking good—”
He wasn’t even pretending to be quiet. Jeno’s fingers curled inside him again, pumping slow and deep. Jaemin clenched around him, messy and so slick it dripped down Jeno’s wrist and coated the tile. The alpha groaned, breath ragged against Jaemin’s pussy, hungry and rut-drunk all over again.
“You love this,” Jeno growled, looking up at him. “Being eaten out like a fucking treat.”
Jaemin’s legs trembled.
“I l-love you doing it,” he whispered, eyes fluttering.
That word. Love. It slipped out too fast. Too naturally.
Jeno paused—but only for a second. Then he groaned and shoved his tongue back in, like he couldn’t bear to stop, not even to unpack what that might mean. And Jaemin just moaned louder, hips rocking, chasing his second orgasm of the day on his alpha’s tongue.
Jaemin came again—shaking, gasping, clutching Jeno’s hair like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground. His pussy clamped hard around Jeno’s fingers, pulsing wetly with every roll of Jeno’s tongue against his clit. Slick gushed out of him, coating Jeno’s wrist, dripping down his thighs, splashing faintly onto the floor beneath them. He was overstimulated already—hips twitching, legs weak—but he didn’t say stop.
Because Jeno hadn’t had enough. And Jaemin knew how to break him. Jeno stayed on his knees, lips shiny, chin soaked, tongue greedy and relentless.
“Still so wet,” he growled, nosing against the swollen folds. “You want more?”
“Y-Yes,” Jaemin gasped, his whole body trembling. “Fuck, yes—don’t stop—”
The scent in the janitor’s closet was unbearable now—sharp and slick and heavy, with Jaemin’s heat scent finally starting to break through the suppressant barrier. It hadn’t snapped fully, but the pressure was building. Peach and nectar, musk and salt, and underneath it all: Alpha. Not Jeno’s scent—Jaemin’s need for it. Jeno’s knot wasn’t even out yet, but his cock was painfully hard again, leaking into his briefs. He pulled his fingers out slowly, slick webbing between them in glossy strands, and shoved them in his mouth.
Jaemin’s eyes rolled back.
“Fuck—Jeno—”
“You taste like heat,” Jeno groaned, licking his fingers clean.
“Then breed me again.”
That sentence. That voice. Jeno didn’t remember standing. He didn’t remember shoving his pants down again. All he knew was that Jaemin was turning around, pressing both palms against the mop sink, back arched, ass up and begging. And his pussy—flooded, pink, glistening—was waiting.
Jeno stepped up behind him and pushed in raw. The resistance barely lasted a second before Jaemin’s cunt swallowed him down to the hilt. Both of them moaned—deep, loud, and unashamed.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re still tight—” Jeno gritted out.
“And you’re still big,” Jaemin whimpered, forehead pressing to the wall.
Jeno snapped his hips forward and started fucking him open. Fast. Deep. Sloppy. Their bodies slapped together hard, loud enough to echo in the small space. Jaemin cried out, bracing himself with both arms, his pussy stretching around Jeno’s cock, milking him, dragging every wet inch back in greedily. Slick dripped to the floor, pooling between Jaemin’s feet. Jeno’s balls were soaked. He reached around to rub Jaemin’s clit with two slick fingers, and the omega screamed.
“Jeno—Alpha—I can’t—too much—”
“Yes you can,” Jeno growled. “You’re made for this. Made to take me.”
Jaemin sobbed through a moan, shoving back on his cock, body bouncing with every thrust. His scent flared again—louder, rawer. The room filled with the heat of it, the desperation of it. He was falling apart again, edging too fast.
“Gonna cum again,” Jaemin gasped. “Alpha, please—please—”
“Do it,” Jeno snarled. “Cum all over my cock. Show me who you belong to.”
Jaemin came hard. His pussy spasmed around Jeno’s cock, milking it so tight Jeno had to choke back a roar. Cum flooded him again, Jaemin’s whole body jerking, thighs quivering violently as slick splashed down his legs in thick gushes. And it broke Jeno’s control. His knot swelled again—fast, angry, desperate. The next thrust popped it inside without warning, locking them together instantly. Jaemin screamed, high and wrecked, both hands slamming against the tile as the stretch hit too fast.
“Breathe,” Jeno panted, hugging him from behind.
Jaemin gasped, whimpering, adjusting around the knot as it pulsed inside him. Then—warmth. A burst of slick heat inside. Jeno groaned, head falling to Jaemin’s shoulder as he came again, harder this time. Rope after rope of cum pumped deep into Jaemin’s womb, the knot sealing it in, stuffing him full, swelling his belly with the pressure.
“You’re mine,” Jeno said into his ear.
Jaemin, still shaking, turned just enough to look back at him.
“I’ve always been yours,” he whispered.
And that— That made something in Jeno break. His arms wrapped around Jaemin, too tight, pulling him back against his chest as he buried his face in Jaemin’s neck. He was still cumming. Still knotted. Still buried to the hilt in the omega who’d planned every inch of their downfall.
And all he could think was:
I don’t want this to be temporary.
Not just the heat. Not just the fucking.
Not just the physical.
Jaemin felt it. Felt the shift. Felt the alpha’s desperation bleeding through the rut haze. So he turned in his arms, as much as the knot allowed, and stroked Jeno’s jaw gently.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “You don’t have to keep pretending you don’t want this.”
Jeno’s breath caught.
And finally—finally—he let his forehead drop to Jaemin’s shoulder and whispered, “I don’t want to let go.”
Jaemin cradled the back of Jeno’s head with one hand, gently threading his fingers into the alpha’s hair, still damp with sweat. His other hand moved down to rest over the knot buried inside him, as if to ground them both.
“You don’t have to,” Jaemin said softly.
Jeno didn’t respond at first. He only held him tighter.
His knot was still firm, locking him in place. Jaemin’s pussy still clenched around him rhythmically, as if reluctant to let go even after two orgasms. They were both panting. Both raw. Both too exposed in the low, suffocating quiet of that tiny closet.
“I wasn’t supposed to want more,” Jeno finally muttered.
Jaemin kissed his temple. “But you do.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.”
Jeno’s fingers gripped Jaemin’s hips, anchoring him closer. “But I think I already do.”
Jaemin smiled against his skin, soft and fond and entirely unguarded. “I hoped you would.”
They stood there in silence, knotted and sticky, hearts thudding close enough to beat together. And in that warmth, that scent-soaked haze, Jaemin leaned in and whispered something Jeno hadn’t expected to hear outside of a heat claim. Something small. Something terrifying. Something real.
“…Me too.”
The knot didn’t go down for another twenty minutes. They stayed locked together, backs pressed to the mop sink, Jaemin half-sitting on Jeno’s lap now with one leg draped lazily over his thigh. His pussy twitched around the knot every few seconds, overstimulated but warm. Content. Jeno’s cum still leaked in lazy pulses, deep enough that Jaemin could feel the pressure of it—hot, slick, undeniably full. Neither of them spoke at first. Not because there was nothing to say, but because the words would be too big. Too heavy. Instead, Jeno stroked Jaemin’s lower back slowly, over the soaked line of skin where his shirt had ridden up. Jaemin let him. Let himself be held.
“Do you regret it?” Jaemin asked eventually, voice quiet.
“No.”
Jeno didn’t even hesitate.
Jaemin turned his head slightly. “Even if people find out?”
“They won’t.”
“And if they do?”
Jeno exhaled. “I’ll say I claimed the smartest omega in the company and finally stopped being a coward about it.”
Jaemin blinked. “Claimed?”
Jeno’s hand stilled on his back. The knot pulsed again. Jaemin went still, too.
“That’s not what this was,” Jaemin said, softly. Not with fear—but with caution.
“I know,” Jeno said just as softly. “But it could be. If you wanted.”
Jaemin’s breath caught.
And Jeno… Jeno felt something in his chest crack open wider.
“I meant what I said,” he continued. “I don’t want this to be temporary. I don’t want you to disappear when your cycle ends. I don’t want you to pretend this is just some… game you played well.”
Jaemin turned in his lap as far as the knot allowed, facing him.
“I wasn’t pretending.”
“I know,” Jeno said. “You’re far too dangerous when you’re sincere.”
Jaemin smiled. A little weak. A little crooked.
“You’re saying this because you’re still inside me,” he teased. “You’re high off post-orgasm instinct.”
“I’m saying it because I’ve been watching you tease me into madness for two months,” Jeno replied. “And I still want more.”
Jaemin reached up and cupped Jeno’s cheek with one hand.
“I wasn’t looking for a relationship when I transferred,” he said.
“I wasn’t either.”
Jaemin looked down.
“Are we idiots?”
“Absolutely.”
Jaemin laughed—soft, breathy—and the sound made Jeno smile for real.
“I want to try,” Jaemin said finally, gaze steady.
Jeno swallowed. “You sure?”
Jaemin nodded. “I was sure before you even touched me.”
The knot slipped out with a low pop at that exact moment, and Jaemin shivered, clutching at Jeno’s shoulders as another lazy rush of cum spilled out of him.
“Jesus,” he whispered, breath hitching. “You really… fucked me full.”
Jeno chuckled. “I warned you.”
Jaemin blinked up at him, cheeks pink. “You know I’m not on suppressants anymore, right?”
Jeno stilled.
“What?”
Jaemin’s expression didn’t waver. “I came off them right before my transfer. I was stabilizing my natural cycle. I wanted to feel everything clearly.”
Jeno blinked. “So you’ve been scenting around me—unfiltered.”
“Not in heat,” Jaemin clarified, “but still me. Still honest.”
Jeno stared at him for a long beat. Then cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss—slow, tender, grounding.
“I didn’t knot you because I thought you were on pills,” he murmured against Jaemin’s lips.
“I know.”
“I still would’ve. Still wanted to.”
“I know,” Jaemin whispered back. “That’s why I let you.”
Another pause.
“…Should I pick up a test?” Jaemin teased.
Jeno blinked. “Are you serious?”
“I’m not saying I am—” Jaemin laughed. “But we’ve gone at it twice in a single day, raw, with enough cum to break dimensional laws. I mean…”
Jeno covered his face with both hands. “You are going to destroy me.”
“I already have.”
Jaemin stood slowly, legs shaking, slick running down his thighs in slow drips. Jeno followed him, tucking himself back into his slacks while staring at the mess between Jaemin’s legs with a dazed, possessive hunger.
“I need a shower,” Jaemin whispered.
Jaemin kissed him one last time before grabbing the handle.
“I’ll meet you at your place tonight.”
“You’re assuming I’ll give you the address.”
Jaemin smirked. “I already have it.”
Of course he did.
They cleaned up in silence—Jaemin with soft towels and scent wipes, Jeno biting back groans every time he saw fresh slick leak down the omega’s thighs. When Jaemin stepped out of the closet in a spare sweater from his locker, cheeks flushed and hair mussed, he still smelled like sex.
Jeno walked him to the elevator. No one stopped them. But several heads turned when the doors closed.
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The elevator ride down was quiet, but not tense. Jeno leaned against the mirrored wall, hands tucked into his pockets, gaze flicking to Jaemin every few seconds. Jaemin stood on the other side, casual, like they hadn’t just had sex twice in the same day. But there was a softness in his eyes now. A settledness. Like something had clicked inside him and found its place.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Jaemin said after a moment.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m yours.”
Jeno’s voice was quiet. “You are.”
Jaemin’s breath hitched. He didn’t smile right away. Instead, he looked down at his feet, swaying slightly as the elevator descended floor after floor. When he looked back up, it was with something closer to awe than mischief.
“Say it again.”
Jeno stepped forward, slowly, until they were chest to chest.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, brushing their noses together. “And I’m yours. That’s what this is.”
Jaemin finally smiled. Not the teasing one. Not the smug one. The real one.
“I can work with that,” he murmured.
The doors slid open. They stepped into the lobby together, shoulders brushing. Not quite holding hands. But not pretending anymore, either.
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Jeno’s apartment was warm. Dimly lit. Quiet. Jaemin had expected clean. Minimalist. Alpha-standard bachelor. What he didn’t expect was softness. Soft throw blankets in muted colors. A scent diffuser in the corner, humming gently with hints of sandalwood and ginger. A stack of architectural books on the coffee table—worn, well-read. There was a low armchair by the window with an indent in the cushion where someone actually sat, not just for show. The place smelled like Jeno. Amber. Wood. Fresh linen and something faintly citrusy. It hit Jaemin like a blanket around his shoulders.
“You live like someone who forgets he’s allowed comfort,” Jaemin said as he toed off his shoes.
Jeno glanced back at him, setting his keys down. “I don’t forget. I just never had anyone to share it with.”
That silenced Jaemin for a second. He watched as Jeno moved through the space—calm, careful, not hesitant but… aware. Of Jaemin’s presence. Of every scent molecule between them. Jaemin stepped forward, quiet.
“Can I scent it?”
Jeno blinked. “You want to?”
Jaemin nodded. “I want to make it smell like me. I want to make it ours.”
Jeno didn’t reply with words. He simply reached for Jaemin’s hand and led him toward the bedroom.
The room was dark, save for the strip of light beneath the curtains. The bed was large. Low. Clean. Taupe sheets, dark pillows, a navy comforter folded at the foot. Jaemin stepped in first, then turned to face him.
“I’m not in heat yet,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I still want you inside.”
Jeno didn’t need more than that. They undressed slowly this time. Not frantic. Not rushed. Jeno’s hands trembled a little—not from arousal, but from how much he wanted to do this right. He helped Jaemin out of his sweater. Unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Pressed gentle kisses over every inch of skin as it was revealed. Jaemin’s scent bloomed sweet and steady, not quite heat-slick but heady with affection.
“I like when you go slow,” Jaemin murmured, fingers tugging Jeno’s belt free. “Makes me feel like you’re savoring me.”
“I am,” Jeno whispered, lips brushing his shoulder. “You’re the best thing I’ve tasted.”
They fell onto the bed in a mess of sheets and soft limbs. Jeno’s cock was already hard, resting heavy against Jaemin’s thigh. Jaemin reached down, spreading his own folds, slick gathering fast now—thicker than before, more natural.
“Come in,” he whispered, voice like silk. “Come home.”
Jeno slid inside with a groan. It was different this time. Deeper. Slower.
Not just fucking—joining.
Jaemin gasped at the stretch, legs spreading wider to take him, pussy clenching wetly around the length of Jeno’s cock. He was wetter than he expected, the connection raw in his throat, the alpha’s scent flooding his lungs like air. Jeno buried himself fully, then stilled.
“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Better than,” Jaemin whispered.
Their lips met again, this time unhurried, tongues stroking slow, breathing each other in.
Jeno began to move. Not to take. But to give. Each thrust was smooth and deliberate, rocking Jaemin into the mattress with deep, body-filling pleasure. Jaemin moaned softly, legs wrapping around Jeno’s waist, heels pressing into the small of his back.
“I feel everything with you,” Jaemin whispered into his mouth.
Jeno kissed him again, fingers lacing with Jaemin’s above his head.
“I never wanted someone the way I want you.”
Their rhythm built—wet and slow, the slick sounds of Jaemin’s pussy welcoming every inch of him. No knot yet. No rut. Just the kind of mating that felt instinctual because it mattered. Jeno pressed his forehead to Jaemin’s.
“Let me scent you,” he whispered.
“Please.”
Jeno kissed down his throat, nudging Jaemin’s gland. He licked once. Twice. Then bit—not to claim. Just to mark. A pressure. A promise. Jaemin cried out, arching up, his pussy fluttering around Jeno’s cock.
“Jeno—Alpha—please—”
“I’ve got you,” Jeno whispered, breath breaking. “You’re safe.”
He drove in deeper, grinding at the end of each thrust, dragging Jaemin closer to a high that felt like surrender.
Jaemin gasped, tears welling. “I’m—Jeno—I’m gonna—”
“Cum for me,” Jeno growled. “Let me feel you fall.”
Jaemin shattered beneath him, pussy convulsing hard, orgasm ripping through his body in slow, beautiful waves. Slick flooded around Jeno’s cock, soaking the sheets, messy and real. And Jeno followed—his knot swelling as his body took over, instinct locking them together as he poured himself deep into Jaemin again. But this time, it wasn’t about claiming. It was about belonging.
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They lay tangled in the afterglow, sweat cooling, breaths slowing, bodies still joined by the knot nestled snugly inside Jaemin’s cunt. His thighs were sticky with slick and cum, but neither of them moved to clean up yet. There was too much still unspoken between the rhythm of their hearts. Jeno rested his chin on Jaemin’s chest, watching his face as Jaemin lazily traced lines across his back.
“I’ve never…” Jeno began, then trailed off.
Jaemin looked at him gently. “What?”
Jeno swallowed. “I’ve never done this like this. Slow. Intimate. Not even during past ruts. It was always just… instinct.”
Jaemin brushed hair from his brow. “I know.”
“I want to keep doing it like this.”
Jaemin smiled. “We will.”
“You’re not overwhelmed?”
“I was, earlier. But not now. Not here. You make it feel okay to want this much.”
Jeno closed his eyes. Their bodies were still connected, still softly pulsing around the tie between them, but the emotional connection between them was tighter. Sweeter. Honest.
“You’re nesting,” Jaemin whispered after a beat, glancing around the bed. “I can smell it. You’re scenting me into your sheets.”
“I want them to smell like you,” Jeno murmured.
Jaemin’s eyes glowed. “They already do.”
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The morning light in Jeno’s bedroom was honey-soft. It filtered through the curtains in warm, buttery streaks, touching the tousled sheets and the slow rise and fall of Jaemin’s bare back. He lay on his side, arms curled under the pillow, mouth slightly parted, hair mussed and sticking adorably to his cheek. He smelled like Jeno now. Fully. Deeply. Jeno’s scent had soaked into his skin overnight, layered over his own—musk and peach twisted into something that didn’t smell like either of them alone, but together. The whole bed smelled like sex, like slick and cum, like heat softened by affection.
Jeno couldn’t stop looking at him. He hadn’t even meant to stay awake this long. But when he woke up, still tangled in Jaemin’s warmth, his knot gone, his cum still leaking slowly out of Jaemin’s swollen cunt… he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to lose the weight of it. The rightness of it. So he stayed. Pressed up against Jaemin’s back, one arm draped lazily around his waist, noses brushing behind his ear, inhaling every shallow exhale.
It wasn’t lust now. Not anymore. It was comfort. It was quiet. It was something deeper than instinct. Jaemin stirred eventually, stretching like a cat, hips rolling gently back into Jeno’s groin.
“Mmm…” he hummed, voice low and scratchy. “You’re still hard.”
“I’ve been lying against your ass for an hour,” Jeno muttered, voice hoarse with sleep. “You’re surprised?”
Jaemin laughed quietly and rolled onto his back, blinking up at him. “What time is it?”
“Late enough to skip the morning call. Early enough that I could make coffee and pretend we didn’t.”
“Tempting.”
Jeno leaned down and kissed him softly. Once. Twice. Then deeper.
Jaemin let it happen, mouth falling open, legs parting instinctively as Jeno’s hand slid under the sheets. His fingers found sticky heat. Still wet. Still slick. Still his.
“Still messy,” Jaemin whispered.
“Still beautiful,” Jeno replied.
They didn’t rush it. Jeno kissed him while he slid his fingers inside, just enough to curl and press where Jaemin was still tender. He loved the way Jaemin gasped into his mouth. The way his lashes fluttered. The way his legs wrapped around Jeno’s waist like a second nature.
“I want to keep you like this,” Jeno murmured. “All the time. Loose. Sweet. Filled.”
Jaemin flushed. “You already have me like that.”
Jeno eased into him slowly—not to knot, not to fuck hard—but to sink. To be inside. To feel. Jaemin whimpered softly as Jeno slid in. No resistance. Just warmth, and stretch, and the full ache of having his alpha claim him again before breakfast. Their bodies rocked together in lazy rhythm, hips rolling under the covers, breaths synced. Jaemin clutched the sheets above his head. Jeno moved slow and deep, lips pressed to his neck, his hand sliding over Jaemin’s soft lower belly. There was no need to rush. No need to dominate. It was indulgent now. Mutual. Felt.
“Do you want me to stay?” Jaemin whispered.
Jeno stilled. Then pulled back, looking down at him. His expression softened.
“I want you to live here.”
Jaemin blinked. “You—what?”
“I don’t want to just see you at work. Or sneak around.”
Jeno kissed the corner of his mouth.
“I want to wake up like this. Every morning.”
Jaemin looked at him, searching his face. “You mean it.”
“I’ve never been more certain.”
The omega’s eyes welled up, but he blinked the tears back and wrapped his arms around Jeno’s shoulders, dragging him down into a kiss that tasted like salt and sex and something permanent. They came together again, slower this time, quieter—Jaemin’s soft whimpers muffled against Jeno’s neck as the alpha filled him one more time, knot swelling gradually and locking them in the most peaceful way. When it was over, Jaemin was shaking. But not from fear. From fullness. From safety. From love.
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They showered around noon.
Jaemin wore one of Jeno’s shirts and nothing else, padding barefoot around the kitchen while Jeno made coffee. His scent was everywhere now, soaked into the towels, the pillows, the bed. Jeno watched him from across the counter and knew—without question—he would never want anyone else.
“I still have reports to finish,” Jaemin mumbled, sipping from a chipped ceramic mug.
“Do them in my bed.”
“I’ll fall asleep again.”
“Then nap in my bed.”
Jaemin grinned.
“You’re dangerous when you’re soft.”
Jeno raised a brow. “Says the omega who tracked me for weeks and seduced me in a janitor closet.”
Jaemin winked. “You loved it.”
Jeno didn’t deny it.
Later, when they curled up again—fully clothed this time, but just as tangled—Jaemin whispered against his chest, “You’re not going to ghost me, right?”
Jeno kissed the crown of his head.
“Try getting rid of me now.”
Jaemin smiled.
The nest was building. The bond was budding. And somewhere deep inside, both of them knew: This wasn’t just a heat. This was home.
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That night, Jaemin unpacked the little overnight bag he hadn’t admitted to bringing.
Jeno watched from the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “You planned this.”
Jaemin didn’t even try to deny it. He pulled out a soft folded hoodie, a tiny bottle of scent balm, and two changes of underwear.
“I pack for possibilities,” Jaemin replied, tossing his things into Jeno’s bottom drawer. “You don’t have to pretend you’re shocked.”
“I’m not,” Jeno admitted. “I’m just… relieved.”
Jaemin paused. Turned.
“Relieved?”
Jeno walked over and wrapped his arms around Jaemin from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.
“That you wanted this as much as I did,” he murmured. “That I didn’t imagine how deep it was going to get.”
Jaemin leaned into him.
“You didn’t imagine it. You just caught up late.”
They stood there for a long time, tangled in stillness, the scent of nesting slowly building around them—peach, musk, alpha. Mating.
Real. Permanent. And when they climbed into bed again, this time just to sleep, there was no heat driving them. No instinct pulling the strings. Just steady breathing, shared warmth, and fingers laced beneath the covers. Not need. Not chance. But love—quiet and certain.
And the promise that, from here on out, neither of them would ever wake up alone again.