Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kimhan Theerapanyakul hates alphas.

This hadn’t always been the case, of course. When he was younger, wide eyed and naïve to the path the world cruelly hid from him, biding its time, he hadn’t hated alphas. His father was an alpha; how could he hate them? He wanted to be just like his father.

His father: brave, strong, commanding.

His father – cruel. Unforgiving.

Alpha.

It was what he’d expected to present as; what he’d been groomed to be, just the same as Tankhun and Kinn – the three alpha heirs of the major family.

And then he’d dropped to his knees in the middle of a meeting with various alpha members of a powerful Italian family, reeking of mahogany and rainwater, overcome by unbearable heat, only faintly able to hear the sounds of Kinn’s raised voice over the rushing in his ears; there were gunshots, yells, growling low in somebody’s throat, hot breath on his neck, hands being ripped away from their bruising grip on his waist no sooner had they latched onto the skin there –

Later, all Kim really remembers is the stabbing pain in his gut, and the feeling of choking on Kinn’s enraged, protective scent.

(He very deliberately does not remember the pitiful whine that had bubbled up inside his throat, and the way his neck had stretched back obscenely without his permission. He does not remember the feeling of pure want inside him; the way he had craved the sick warmth of the hands that had tried to defile him; to take advantage of him. He does not remember the way his body had trembled, his very skin begging begging begging for an alpha to touch him; fuck him; own him.

He remembers.

He remembers at three o’clock in the morning when he’s hunched over the toilet bowl, shivering and weak, remembering the way he’d wanted it. He’d wanted it so badly.)

He was only fifteen.

Now, seven years later, he spends every minute tense; every breath bated; every move sharp, always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the moment that fate will decide that his life is over and it’s time for him to be swept away by the perfect alpha, his wonderful fated mate. As if, just by being an omega, Kim is supposed to want his entire autonomy stripped from him. Kim likes to think that he’ll be able to resist it. That he’ll spot his mate; watch their eyes glow red; smell the spike in their scent that tells him they want him – and he’ll simply walk away, unaffected. Then he remembers heat and pain and hands on his waist and want want want need and, bile in his throat, pushes thoughts of his mate out of his mind, because not thinking about the inevitable is surely less painful than attempting to prepare for it.

Needless to say, Kimhan Theerapanyakul hates alphas.

Porchay Kittisawasd can’t wait to meet his mate.

He’d always been one of those people who dreamed about it, conjuring up the moment filled with flower petals and rosy cheeks; shaking hands and giddy giggles. He knows that some mated pairs are immediately overcome by their very base instincts, hands itching to grab and snatch and claim; bodies crashing together as they kiss and bite and touch all over one another. Porchay likes to imagine that he and his mate will be softer. Slower. Perhaps he’ll spot them as he walks to his favourite noodle place after school, stopping in his tracks as they lock eyes. Perhaps their eyes will widen and he’ll feel heat in his cheeks echo the redness he’ll watch crawling across their face. Maybe they will slowly approach each other, tentative smiles nudging at the corners of their lips; maybe Chay will reach out with a shaking hand to brush his thumb across their cheek and they will gasp quietly, their own hand flying up to grasp his as if they couldn’t stop it in time.

And then – after that, they’ll –

Well, Porchay thinks, frowning, they’ll do whatever his mate wants.

Yes. Porchay sighs, clutching a pillow to his chest as he sprawls across his bed, feet kicking in the air like a schoolgirl. He’ll simply follow his omega, watching attentively in an attempt to anticipate their every need; their every want before they even voice it. If they’ll let him, that is – he knows he’s not exactly the most alpha person there is, preferring to follow rather than lead; agree rather than suggest; comply rather than demand. He hopes his omega isn’t expecting a typical alpha. He hopes his omega will let him care for them the way he wants to.

Porchay Kittisawasd really can’t wait to meet his mate.

A month ago, Porsche had come home after a week away with only a brief met mate wont be home foRa b itbjdfg.; texted to Chay on the day of his departure. Chay had spent the week pacing their house, emotions all over the place: on one hand, he felt overjoyed that his brother had finally found his mate – Porsche had always had a sort of loneliness that lingered about him; something Chay was unable to shake despite his numerous attempts. On the other hand, Chay’s alpha had curled up in a dusty corner and howled pitifully at not being the only alpha in Porsche’s life anymore, resisting Chay’s attempts to coax it out. Luckily, the pure joy on Porsche’s face when he finally came home – absolutely reeking of smoke, and, unconventionally, roses – immediately swept away any concerns of his brother abandoning him for another, likely far stronger and more capable alpha.

Now, a month later, Chay is finally going to Porsche’s mate’s – apparently extremely large and fancy – house to meet him and his family. Chay, a nervous talker, babbles on about everything and nothing all the way to Porsche’s mate’s – Kinn’s – house in the back of the car that Kinn had sent for them – “wow, Hia, he really is rich –” – as Porsche nods and “mm”-s indulgently, a fond look on his face. As the car finally pulls up the driveway, the house – “what the hell, Hia, you didn’t tell me it was this big –” “yes I literally did, Chay –” – looming over them, Chay finally asks the question at the root of his nervous energy.

“What if he doesn’t … approve of me? As an alpha?” Chay asks quietly, avoiding Porsche’s eyes. He hears his brother’s sigh; there’s no surprise in it at all, as if Porsche had known what Chay was avoiding voicing and was just waiting for him to be ready to say it.

“Then I’ll let him know on no uncertain terms that I won’t be seeing him again,” Porsche says matter-of-factly, and Chay’s head snaps up, eyes widening at the no-nonsense look on Porsche’s face.

“Hia – ”

“Chay, relax,” Porsche says, arm making its way around Chay’s shoulder. Chay breathes in deeply, sea salt and lemon calming him immediately as the movement brings his nose closer to Porsche’s neck. “Kinn will not disapprove of you as an alpha – he’s not like that. If anything, you should be the one to approve of him; you knew me first.”

Chay’s alpha preens, and Chay lets it take over, nuzzling into Porsche’s shoulder, revelling in the comfort of his only packmate. Porsche leans his own head atop Chay’s, and they stay like that for a moment, knowing that as soon as they step out of the car, things will change. Chay will meet Porsche’s alpha and have to stumble through his undoubtedly feeble attempt to appear strong and capable in front of him. He will have to deal with the fact that Porsche’s side of the pack is expanding, while Chay’s stays pitifully small.

He takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” He says, nudging Porsche’s head gently off of his own. “Let’s go.”

Kinn is waiting for them outside.

He’s standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door, and upon seeing Porsche, his expression melts into something so soft that Chay immediately knows he can trust this alpha with his brother. The two of them – Kinn and Porsche – gravitate towards each other, embracing right there and then, foreheads pressed together as they breathe each other in. Chay feels a little lightheaded; a little unsteady on his feet, but chalks it up to the relief of finally seeing with his own eyes the obvious affection Porsche’s mate has for him.

That is – until he takes a few steps closer to the house, and the lightheadedness gets worse, except now his hands are shaking and his breath is quickening and all of a sudden he’s laser focussed on that doorway at the top of the steps, feet taking him closer before he realises he’s practically running towards it –

He’s jolted back to reality by Porsche’s hand on his arm, and suddenly a rush of inexplainable anger rushes through him – how dare somebody stop him? How dare they put themselves in between him and his ma –

“Woah, Chay, what the fuck?”

Chay’s eyes widen. The growling noise that had been ringing through the air stops abruptly, and Chay realises that it was him making it. He stares at Porsche, wide eyed, mouth moving wordlessly, unable to provide an explanation for what just happened – what still is happening because Porsche had only been a minor distraction; that unmistakeable urge to move towards the doorway re-emerges, rearing its head beneath his skin; his limbs move as if attached to strings controlled by some invisible puppet master and he is totally, utterly helpless to their command –

The smell hits him as someone appears in the doorway.

Porchay’s world is suddenly rainwater on asphalt and splintering mahogany, and he is helpless to its pull, inhaling greedily as soon as the scent first hits him like a slap across the face and a lingering embrace all at once. The person – the omega – in the doorway is panting hard as if he had been running – running to Chay, his alpha crows in delight – red spots high on his cheeks, eyes wide and almost crazed. He has black hair, just reaching his chin, elegant as it frames his face beautifully – his face, oh – it’s all high cheekbones and gentle angles, eyes that are sharp and lips that are soft and full.

He’s the most beautiful person Porchay has ever seen, and he’s his mate, and he’s – oh, god, he’s walking towards him.

If Porchay had been able to concentrate on anything other than his omega, his mate, he would have registered Kinn’s scent souring just a little, tinted with concern and a sort of resignation, behind him, Porsche’s immediately taking a comforting edge in an attempt to soothe, and only succeeding a fraction. As it is, Chay registers nothing but the blazing look in his omega’s eyes as he approaches him. Something in him keeps him rooted to his spot, body locked still in the gaze of his mate. As his mate gets closer, he notices something simmering beneath the overpowering desire of his rain-soaked wood scent – something a little like apprehension; a little like fear, and his alpha whines loudly. He strains forward, eyebrows furrowing as he searches his mate’s face for anything that might indicate what he can do to help; anything to make his omega feel better.

All at once, they are face to face.

Nobody moves a muscle, not Porchay or his mate; not Kinn or Porsche behind him. Porchay feels almost drunk, every breath saturated with his mate’s scent; his mate is all he can smell; all he can see. They stand there, staring at each other, taking in the other’s features hungrily. Porchay smiles. They’ve been waiting their whole lives for this, after all.

His mate stiffens, eyes widening somehow further, and the smile slips slightly on Chay’s face. Has he done something wrong already? Has he messed it up so soon? He remembers, belatedly, that alphas are supposed to be strong and commanding – perhaps his mate had expected Chay to take the lead, not to stand there looking silly as he waited for his mate to approach him. Breath quickening, Chay feels a soft whine vibrate in his throat, so quiet that surely only his mate hears it. How pathetic, Chay thinks – here he is, meeting his mate for the first time, and he’s whining like a kicked puppy in front of him –

Suddenly, there are hands on his face, sliding roughly around to the back of his head and neck respectively, one twining in his hair and the other gripping him, hard, pulling him in until the tip of his nose touches his mate’s and their breaths reach out to meet tentatively between their lips. Chay gasps, eyes locked in the gaze of his mate’s, helpless to the undeniably intense look in his omega-gold eyes.

“Alpha,” his mate breathes into the space between their mouths, and Chay feels his own breath stutter out of him as his knees grow weak. “My alpha.”

He barely has time to acknowledge the way his alpha jumps for joy at the clear acknowledgement, the claim from his omega before he feels strong hands grip the backs of his thighs and suddenly his feet are no longer touching the ground. His legs lock automatically around his mate’s waist, arms securing themselves over his shoulders, as he begins to move.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god his brain provides helpfully – oh my god my mate is carrying me he’s so strong he’s holding me I’m hugging him my legs are around his waist I can feel him pressed against me oh god he’s my mate he’s so beautiful he’s my omega my mate –

Utterly helpless to do anything else, Porchay buries his face in his mate’s neck, taking in greedy gulps of the scent that pools there; he feels the jolt that goes through the body in his arms; the way the scent impossibly increases in potency as his mate opens up for him, allowing him in. Distantly, he thinks he hears Porsche yell something like “have fun, you crazy kids!” but forgets it almost immediately, his brain prioritising wonderful pretty omega mate over embarrassing but well-meaning older brother.

He can hear the low panting of breath as his mate carries him into the house and through corridor after corridor; he thinks they might have entered a lift at some point, but he can’t be sure and, quite honestly, could not care less. All Porchay knows is the feeling of his mate’s hands securely gripping his thighs; his mate’s body pressed against him; his mate’s scent flowing freely through his entire being. Eventually, one hand leaves his thigh – Porchay whines embarrassingly and holds on tighter, distraught at the idea of his mate letting go of him – and he faintly registers the sound of a door opening, then closing as they move forward into what can only be his mate’s room. The scent of him is overwhelming here; Chay gasps, legs tightening around his mate’s waist. He feels his eyes drooping as he allows himself to relax entirely beneath the weight of elegant mahogany; of gentle, soothing rainwater that he can almost feel trickling down his spine.

“Mate…” he breathes, hands clutching at firm shoulders, and he feels the warmth of a shaky breath against his neck, the arms around his waist tightening. Then, as sudden as a bucket of icy water tipped over his head, the arms are gone and he’s deposited onto the floor, stumbling a little, legs unsteady. His alpha howls its displeasure, but all that come out of Chay’s mouth is a pitiful little whimper as he focusses his gaze on his mate once again, almost immediately getting distracted by the gold of his eyes; the red of his cheeks; the pink of his lips –

“Kim.”

Porchay blinks.

“My name is Porchay,” he says, confused.

His mate huffs, the slightest hint of surprised amusement lifting the corners of his mouth.

“My name is Kim,” he explains, and Chay’s face heats. He mentally slaps himself. Of course – he’s standing in front of his mate, in his mate’s bedroom – his mate, who is beautiful and probably older than him and so strong that he carried him the whole way here – and he’s managed to make a complete fool of himself already.

“Ah,” Chay manages, letting out a high pitched nervous giggle that is neither cool nor attractive nor in any way alpha-like. “Right! Of course! What I meant was – um, that, well, I was just telling you that – oh –”

Apparently, Kim’s patience had run out at some point during Chay’s stuttering, because he’s cut off by demanding hands tugging at the hem of his t-shirt – and, all at once, Chay is reminded of the sizzling heat beneath his skin; the tug at his limbs that pleads with him to reach for his mate, to touch –

“Yes, okay, this is good, this is –”

His t-shirt is yanked off his head, no doubt leaving his hair in a state entirely unfit for a fated mate first meeting. Next are his trousers, then his shoes and socks – the sight of Kim on his knees tugging at them almost making him whimper again – until he’s entirely bare apart from his underwear. He’s breathing hard, dishevelled and flustered, hands shaking with anticipation as he waits for Kim’s next move – but, instead of reaching for him, his mate simply steps past him, making a beeline for something behind him.

Chay freezes, his alpha unable to decide between growling at the potential threat that dared to take away his mate’s attention, and whining pitifully at the feeling of rejection. He turns, half expecting to see some other alpha there; some strong, tall, capable alpha ready to sweep his omega off his feet, but what he sees instead makes his entire body warm. There’s Kim, kneeling at the edge of a large bed, carefully arranging the few items of Chay’s clothing into what is undoubtedly a nest – a mixture of what appears to be Kim’s own clothes, blankets, pillows, and, now, Chay’s clothes too. Chay feels like giggling and twirling a lock of his hair around his finger – his omega is incorporating him into his nest already. It’s an undeniably intimate gesture; nests are private, and Chay can tell from the way Kim’s scent is the only one here, that nobody has been in allowed into this nest before, apart from Kim. Kim hasn’t let anyone in here before.

Chay is so caught up in rose tinted daydreams that he almost doesn’t notice Kim stalking back over to him – then, once again, he’s lifted up and pressed against his mate’s body for an unfortunately short amount of time before being deposited unceremoniously atop the organised mess of blankets and clothes that make up Kim’s nest. He barely has time to gasp, the absolute euphoria of their mixed scents rushing through him and making his head swim, before Kim is climbing over him, hands and knees planted firmly on either side of him. He’s trapped.

“I’m trapped,” Chay speaks his thoughts aloud, giddy; unable to stop it, he giggles, and it’s a high, sweet thing, saturated with innocent joy. Above him, Kim’s expression goes from intense focus to alarmed caution within a split second, and, devastatingly, he begins to pull away.

“No!” Chay panics, hands reaching up to clutch at Kim’s shoulders, pulling him down harder than intended in his rush. Kim, unbalanced, falls, Chay letting out a startled “oof” as their bodies collide.

“Where are you going?” Chay asks, voice small, winding his arms around his mate’s strong shoulders. Kim is still against him, body tense, as if he can’t decide whether to pull away or relax into the body beneath him. His scent, at least, betrays his desire, telling Chay’s alpha all it needs to know about how much his omega wants him – so why doesn’t he give in?

“I’m not – I didn’t mean to trap you,” comes Kim’s low voice, muffled from where he’s pressed against Chay’s shoulder. “You can … you can always leave. I won’t force you. I would never want…”

He trails off, and Chay can’t help the smile that re-forms on his lips. His mate really is perfect. Not only strong, but considerate, too…

Chay gives his head a shake. Snap out of it.

“It’s okay! I like it. I like feeling trapped by you. I’ll be the world’s happiest prisoner if you’re the one who captures me!”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Kim slowly lifts his head so that their eyes can meet once more. Chay’s breath catches. Kim’s eyes are blazing, laser focussed on Chay’s own – then, they flit down to his lips, lingering there for so long that Chay feels them become dry, and his tongue darts out to moisten them. Kim lets out a shaky breath, and Chay swallows, feeling somehow powerful despite being (happily) trapped beneath someone so clearly stronger than him.

“You like…” Kim begins, voice low and breathy, just slightly shaky, as if he’s having trouble keeping it steady. “You like being … trapped by me? Caged in, here, below me?”

It feels as if every piece of furniture in the room is holding its breath as Chay lays there, staring up into those fiery eyes. His chest shudders with a shaking breath, Kim-saturated air flowing into his lungs and through his veins. Kim is everywhere, all over him; all around him.

Slowly, very slowly – he nods.

The movement is fast – Kim’s hand flies up and secures firmly around the back of his neck, thumb reaching around and below his chin, pushing it up in one small movement. The grip puts pressure on both the back and front of his neck, and Chay can’t stop the small noise that slips out. His eyes flutter shut, mouth falling open just slightly. He lies there, an alpha entirely at the mercy of his omega, feeling Kim’s gaze burning through him.

The rustle of bedsheets. A sharp, quiet intake of breath. Kim’s scent, so, so close, dancing over his skin.

“My alpha…”

Chay moans, a sudden, breathy thing, and Kim’s grip tightens in response. He’s aware, all at once, of how hard he is, hips twitching upwards without his permission. His mate’s body answers him immediately, pushing down into him, and Chay, helpless, moans again.

“You’re mine,” Kim breathes, and Chay nods, a puppet on his omega’s string. “My alpha. Mine.”

Then Chay’s head is thrown back, neck arched beautifully as Kim buries his face there, licking a full stripe up the length of it. Chay thinks his eyes might have rolled back in ecstasy, but there’s no way to be sure – the only thing he’s sure of is Kim’s perfect weight on top of him; the wet heat of his tongue; his lips –

“Oh,” Chay gasps hand reaching up to grasp weakly at Kim’s hair as his mate’s mouth fastens atop his scent gland and sucks. Something close to a sob leaves Chay’s mouth, blood turned to molten lava within his veins, and suddenly his legs are fastening around Kim’s hips; he’s grinding upwards frantically, more desperate than he’s ever been in his life –

“Mine,” Kim breathes against his skin, and he comes, clinging to handfuls of Kim’s hair and shirt respectively. His entire body locks up, mouth hanging open; he’s only vaguely aware of the breathy, desperate noises escaping his mouth – a good thing, too; he would surely be too embarrassed to speak if they had registered in any part of his brain. Throughout it all, Kim’s mouth continues working over his neck, licking and biting, causing stilted little jolts in Chay’s hips and abdomen as shocks of pleasure spark through him.

Eventually, Chay’s hands fall away from Kim, and he deflates, entirely boneless. He feels as if he’s floating, body suspended in rain-filled clouds, neck still tilted to make room for his mate – who has now switched to rubbing his cheek all over it, coating Chay thoroughly in his scent. Chay giggles, giddy and almost delirious with pleasure, his alpha entirely content. After an undetermined amount of time, Kim deems the right side of his neck marked and scented enough, and moves to the other, Chay moving his head aside accordingly. This is what bliss feels like, he thinks, finally able to muster up the strength to lift his left arm and wind his fingers gently through Kim’s hair as he bites softly over Chay’s neck. Chay is at least 90% sure he’s leaving marks, and the thought settles something restless deep, deep inside of him.

After some time, Chay becomes aware of Kim moving, just slightly – small, subtle movements, barely noticeable – he frowns. Is he not comfortable? Maybe they should change positions – they have been here for a while, so maybe Kim wants to swap. He’s just about to suggest this to Kim, when the man in question makes a small noise against his throat, and this time, the movement is far more pronounced. Chay flushes all the way down to his toes.

“Oh – I’m so sorry, I completely forgot – I didn’t realise – gosh, I’m a terrible mate, I’m so sorry, here, please, let me –”

“No.”

Chay freezes. Upon noticing that the movement of Kim’s body was him grinding against his hip, Chay had reached down unthinkingly between Kim’s legs – what kind of alpha was he, letting his omega get him off and then not taking care of him in return? But now Kim has Chay’s wrist in a bruising grip, and he’s staring at him, wide eyed and scared.

Chay’s head quiets. His mate is scared – scared of him.

Slowly – very, very slowly – Chay takes his left hand out of Kim’s hair, the other still held fast in Kim’s grip. He places it gently on the pillow beside his head, and, lowering his eyes so that he’s not meeting Kim’s gaze head-on, he tilts his head back once more. Kim’s breath, which had sped up at Chay’s attempt to touch him, catches at the alpha’s clear display of submission.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want. I just want to please you, my omega. I promise.” Chay speaks slowly; quietly. The only coherent thought in his head is the unignorable instinct to take care of his omega. He’d do anything to make him feel better. Anything to please him.

All of Kim’s breath leaves him in a long, shaky exhale.

“I…”

Chay watches as Kim swallows hard, eyes strangely regretful. The grip on his wrist loosens and, slow as anything, Chay quietly moves his right hand forward to brush oh-so-gently over Kim’s cheek, fingers barely touching the skin. Kim’s eyes shut tight, and he swallows again – and then he reaches up to curl his fingers over Chay’s own, pressing Chay’s hand firmly to the side of his face and breathing him in, deep. His nose drags over the inside of Chay’s wrist greedily as he scents him once more, and Chay’s alpha settles, reassured at the sight of his mate finding comfort within him again.

“I’m sorry…” Kim breathes, eyes opening to stare right into Chay’s very soul, it seems. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“It’s okay,” Chay manages, breathless in the wake of Kim’s imploring gaze. “Anything you want – we can just do what you want. No more. I just want to make you feel good.”

The world seems to hang in the balance as Kim stares at him. His eyes tell a story of vulnerability; of tension and hesitancy; of a longing to have and to trust almost trumped by fear. Chay holds still. Kim needs him to be still, now. Then – then, oh, the clouds move aside and the sun rises from their shadow as Kim smiles, a small, soft thing, its very shape asking for permission even as it takes it upon itself to exist. Chay can’t help but mirror it, his own wider; louder, a giggle falling from his lips as his mate’s scent shifts into something like the patter of raindrops against a window when you’re inside, snuggled up in front of the fireplace. Something like comfort. Something like coming home.

“Are you real?” Kim breathes, voice so low that Chay isn’t entirely sure he meant to say it out loud. Giddy, Chay bites his lip to hold in another peal of quiet laughter – laughter that he almost chokes on when, suddenly, Kim sits up – legs now on either side of Chay’s hips – and swiftly grasps the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it over his head in one smooth movement. Chay’s mouth falls open embarrassingly but it’s the last thing on his mind to close it; his thoughts have evaporated into something like TV static as he stares at the glorious sight of his mate sitting atop his hips, the stretch of his skin presented to Chay, readily available to drink in. He thinks he might be drooling.

“I – guh.” Chay manages. Kim huffs out a laugh, mouth curling into a pleased little smirk – but Porchay can see the way his ears turn red. It might just be the cutest thing he’s ever seen, but something tells him Kim would bristle like an offended cat if he says that, so he keeps quiet.

“Very articulate. Thanks for the compliment, Porchay.” Kim says, still smiling that secret little smile, and Porchay all but melts at the sound of his mate’s voice curling gently around the syllables of his name. He swallows and tries to remember how to speak – but then Kim is shifting again; this time, his hands go to the front of his trousers, quickly undoing the button and unzipping them before shifting them down and off his legs.

“Oh my god,” Chay mumbles faintly, hands automatically twitching towards Kim’s thighs, splayed temptingly over Chay’s midsection. Remembering Kim’s earlier reaction to Chay wanting to touch him, he stops, hands hovering awkwardly in the air. He makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat, his alpha torn between wanting to make Kim comfortable and wanting to make Kim feel good because how are we going to make our mate feel good if we can’t even touch him –?

There are hands on his wrists again. But this time, they aren’t holding him in place. This time, they’re guiding him – guiding him towards his mate’s beautiful thighs; Kim places his hands on the soft skin there, and Chay gulps loudly, unable to stop himself from squeezing lightly. Kim’s thighs are soft but firm; clearly muscled but still with some give. Chay has to take a moment to compose himself, glancing up at Kim as if to ask are you sure this is okay? and being met with a gentle but intense gaze.

“Keep them there. Okay, alpha?”

Porchay exhales as the command from his omega drapes over his body like a weighted blanket – heavy, all consuming, and so, so welcomed.

“Yes,” he breathes, eyelids fluttering. “I will. I’ll do anything.”

Kim’s lips fall open, just a centimetre, as he exhales. He stares down at Porchay, eyelids hooded, and, steadying himself with his hands splayed over Chay’s abdomen, he slowly, deliberately, grinds down onto Chay’s erection.

“Ah –”

Chay’s hands squeeze Kim’s thighs tighter as pleasure jolts through him once more. He hadn’t even realised he’d become hard again, so lost in the sight of Kim above him. Kim grinds down again, and again, and even through the material of their underwear, it feels fucking heavenly – even more so when Kim lets out a quiet, shaky “oh –,” his eyes fluttering shut for a split second before opening once again to focus on Chay below him. Absentmindedly, he bites his lip, and Chay can’t help the way his hips twitch upwards just slightly. Kim gasps at the movement, eyes widening a fraction, a stuttered moan leaving his mouth.

“Shit – sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just felt so good, I –”

Kim shushes him, one hand trailing up, up, up – over his chest and throat, coming to a stop at his bottom lip. Hungry, Chay opens his mouth, and Kim’s eyes darken inexplicably. He wastes no time, shoving two fingers past Chay’s lips, and Chay moans, head tipping backwards as he sucks, content with the way his mouth has been filled.

“God, Porchay, fuck, alpha –”

The fingers are ripped out of his mouth as quick as they got there, and Porchay’s eyes snap open, protests hanging threateningly from his lips; they die quickly, though, as he watches Kim shove at Chay’s underwear frantically, barely getting it to his thighs before he pushes his own down his legs.

“Oh my god,” Chay mutters faintly, simultaneously barely able to look directly at the sight of Kim, his omega – his mate – sat, naked, atop his thighs, and wholly incapable of looking away. In a brisk movement, Kim shakes his hair out of his face, all pinked cheeks and blazing eyes. He’s breathing shakily, on the verge of breathless; it warms Chay to know that he’s not the only one feeling overwhelmed.

“You are so beautiful,” Chay can’t stop himself from breathing out, staring reverently up at Kim. Something on Kim’s face changes as he stills, just for a second – it’s as if a wall crumbles right before Chay’s eyes; a wall he hadn’t even known was there in the first place. Instinctually, Chay’s thumbs rub soft circles on the skin of Kim’s thighs, and Kim’s eyes dart down to their movement before fixing back on Chay’s face. For a moment, he says nothing, and Chay begins to wonder if, perhaps, he’s crossed some invisible line without realising. Then –

“So are you,” Kim whispers, eyes silently begging for something Chay has yet to find out but is so, so willing to give, and it sounds like a confession. Chay smiles, and, after a moment, Kim smiles back. Chay laughs, and, a few seconds later, Kim huffs out an amused breath, eyes sparkling.

Slowly – very slowly – Chay tilts his hips upwards. After a short, almost silent gasp, Kim moves his down in response.

“Will you let me use you, alpha?” Kim breathes, and Chay feels his blood turn to fire. “Will you let me use you to make myself feel good?”

“Yes,” Chay gasps, feet skating over the smooth bedsheets; neck stretching back before relaxing once more; fingers tightening their grip on Kim’s thighs. “Yes, of course, use me, use me –”

Suddenly frantic, Kim reaches behind himself, hand disappearing, moving – then heat prickles all over Chay’s skin as Kim moans, face crumpling with pleasure as he undoubtedly begins to finger himself; the smell of sleek mahogany and thundering rain floods Chay’s nose and he can’t help but let out a desperate whimper. After no time at all, Kim is pulling his fingers out, muttering something to himself about already being loose enough anyway – Chay has to squeeze his eyes shut and compose himself for a moment – and then pleasure is shooting through his veins as Kim grasps his cock and places the head at his entrance.

Chay barely has any time to attempt to unscramble the mess of thoughts tumbling through his mind – which sound something like oh god oh my god mate fuck my mate he’s going to he’s touching me he’s look at him so beautiful oh it’s oh my god my omega my mate – before Kim is sinking down with a loud moan – louder than he’s been this whole time. The noise alone almost makes Chay come immediately; his alpha roars its contentment at his mate’s clear display of pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Kim mutters, eyes rolling back for a moment before he begins moving his hips in earnest, rocking back and forth in slick movements that make Chay’s thighs shake. “So fucking good for me, such a good little alpha, staying still and letting me use you.”

“Oh my god,” Chay whines, legs drawing up and knees turning in on themselves as Kim’s praise crashes through him like a tidal wave, sinking deep into his bones, changing the inner structure of his very being. “Kim, Kim, oh – Kim, Kim –”

Chay moans his mate’s name like a prayer, reverent as he worships the heavenly being above him. It’s the only word his lips are able to form; the only thing he can think of; Kim is written in the dust of his very bones, etched into the white by Kim’s own hand.

“I’ve got you,” Kim says, voice low, hips still moving unrelentingly. The very shape of him is sensual, all lean lines and deceptively smooth curves; the tight muscles in his thighs and abdomen stand out as he moves, sending shocks of pleasure dancing across Chay’s skin. He’s panting, cheeks more flushed than before, hair falling across his face, lips slick from absentminded biting and licking. His gaze is hooded, all of his attention fixed on where Chay is writhing below him.

Chay thinks he is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

Without warning, the pleasure inside Chay rises up, flames turning from a flicker into a blaze, licking desperately at the underside of his skin, begging to be freed. His hips twitch upwards again, a tiny thing, before he locks them down determinedly, a pained whimper caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I – can’t – it’s – I’m gonna –”

“Yes,” Kim gasps, and Chay moans at the fire in his gaze. “Go ahead, come – come for me, let me have it, let me have you –”

With a strangled gasp, hands squeezing relentlessly at Kim’s thighs, Chay comes, unable to stop the way his hips snap upwards sharply, deeply burying himself within Kim. Above him, Kim echoes his gasp, and Chay barely wrenches his eyes from the back of his head in time to watch Kim fall apart – as with everything else, he’s beautiful in his uncontrolled pleasure, lovely pink lips falling wide open as he cries out, shoulders hunching in on themselves as he pitches forwards, hands landing none too gently on Chay’s chest. He’s muttering to himself, something about fuck and god and shit, alpha, feels so good and Chay feels utterly lightheaded.

Eventually, they both reach the ground. Kim’s thighs are twitching minutely, as if he’s being routinely shocked every few seconds, and Chay can’t help the way his alpha purrs with smug satisfaction. It was his cock that satisfied him; it was him that made him feel so good he’s shaking with it. Kim’s head hangs between his shoulders, a sleek curtain of hair blocking his expression. Eventually, he rises, biting his lip at the feeling of Chay’s cock still inside him as he sits upright once more. A small, almost playful smile curls the corners of his lips, and he shifts his hips, a vague mimicry of his movements just minutes ago, and Chay lets out a strange gasp-whimper hybrid of a sound, moving quickly to grasp Kim’s waist without thinking. As soon as he realises what he’s done, he gasps, loudly this time, hands jolting away from Kim’s skin and hovering awkwardly in the air. He’s about to apologise – Kim had specifically told him keep them there and, like an idiot, like a terrible, terrible, bad, no good mate, he had disobeyed – but then Kim is reaching for his hands, encasing them gently in his own and guiding them back to their place on his waist.

“It’s okay,” Kim smiles down at him, and if Chay didn’t know better, he would think that he could see some of his own reverence reflected back at him in Kim’s gaze. “You’ve been so good. I think … you deserve a reward. My alpha.”

Chay breathes out shakily, and watches as Kim guides his hands up his body – over his stomach; his abdomen; his chest. He feels as if Kim is a god above him, graciously allowing his skin to be sullied by a devoted mortal’s touch. All the while, Kim stares down at him, mouth parted just slightly. His grip shifts on Chay’s hands, and Chay realises he’s now rubbing Chay’s wrists over his skin, lathering himself in Chay’s scent.

It seems like aeons later that Kim lets him go, slowly rising up on his knees and finally disconnecting their bodies. Chay’s hands refuse to part with him, and stay caressing gently over his hips as he settles down on his side next to Chay. Chay shuffles over onto his side to mirror him, and they stay there – Kim’s hand finding its way into Chay’s hair, Chay’s leg ending up between Kim’s – for a while.

Eventually, Chay speaks.

“How old are you?”

Kim’s eyebrows quirk up at the sudden question, but he looks endeared. Chay grins at him. Hopeless.

“Twenty-one. Why?

“Oh. You’re older than me then. I thought so,” Chay muses, pouting a little as he thinks – then he grins again, cheeky. “Should I call you ‘P’Kim’?”

“Well, you certainly forgot about the ‘Phi’ when you were inside me,” Kim quips, smirking, and Chay squeaks, slapping (lightly tapping) Kim’s arm in reprimand. Kim laughs, and Chay thinks it might be the first time he’s properly heard it – it isn’t just a short huff, or a teasing smirk; it’s a real laugh, Kim’s eyes lighting up in a way that makes Chay want to worship him all over again. Kim’s laughter fades from the air but stays in his eyes, pooling there as they observe Chay, endlessly fond. Chay’s breath catches, and, suddenly, all he wants is to kiss him. With the excitement and franticness of discovering their mate; the eagerness to be near one another, to know one another despite just meeting, they hadn’t kissed – not even once.

Chay needs to rectify this immediately.

He leans forward, nose nudging at Kim’s, and feels the soft but sharp breath that Kim sucks in.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, then stop me now,” he breathes. He waits – one, two. Kim doesn’t move.

He kisses him.

Unlike before, when Kim’s every touch sent flames dancing over his skin, this time, it’s water. Kim douses him completely; he is the euphoria of dancing under a summer rain shower; he is the relief of sinking slowly into a hot bath after the worst day. Their lips meet, slowly, surely. Once, and then again, and again, and again. They kiss leisurely, Chay’s fingertips drifting affectionately over Kim’s hips and back; Kim’s burying themselves in Chay’s hair like they belong there. It’s soft, and it’s gentle, and it’s them, just as much as the frantic movement of their bodies was earlier.

After some time, they part.

“I’m so glad you’re my mate,” Chay whispers into the space between them, bottom lip catching on Kim’s. Kim leans in to connect their lips again, just once, just because he wants to.

“So am I,” he whispers back, as if it’s a secret, but his eyes tell otherwise; his eyes say he’ll scream it from the top of the rooftops if Chay asks him to.

Chay smiles, and leans in once more.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Chay does when he wakes up is giggle.

It’s an utterly giddy sound, the rounded edges of it bouncing playfully across rumpled bedsheets and the bare slope of Kim’s back. Chay’s omega is sprawled atop him; he’d taken to arranging them both that way whenever they flopped down to rest after yet another round. It’s like he’s doing his very best to cover every inch of Chay with his body, the action possessive and all-consuming. Chay’s alpha is very pleased, almost purring as it revels in their mate’s obvious claim. Chay himself feels as if he’s floating, more giggles bubbling up in his throat and spilling over his chin. He turns to bury his nose in Kim’s hair, nuzzling there as he breathes in deeply, pearlescent raindrops and swirling mahogany pouring into him, filling him up readily until he’s brimming with Kim. His arms tighten around Kim’s shoulders, squeezing his naked body to him, and Kim makes a small, muffled noise in his sleep; Chay stills, holding his breath – but Kim only sighs, makes another soft noise, and turns his head further into Chay’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek over the skin there. Chay pulls his lips into his mouth, biting down hard in an attempt not to do something stupid like squeal, because, god – his mate is so fucking cute.

Chay is so, so lucky.

While Kim sleeps, Chay takes the chance to slowly reach up and bury his hand in his soft, dark hair. Trying not to feel creepy, Chay notes how good it smells – he wonders if Kim will let him use his shampoo. He wonder if they’ll shower together; if Kim will allow him to wash his hair; his body – if Kim will allow him to fall to his knees and worship him once more.

He can’t wait to find out.

It’s at this moment, Chay slowly, reverently running a hand through Kim’s hair, that a low, rumbling noise vibrates against Chay’s stomach. Oh – Chay frowns, his alpha suddenly perking up in distress. His mate is hungry. Chay has to – he has to go; he has to find something for his mate to eat – there is simply no way Chay can allow Kim to wake up hungry –

Slowly – very slowly – Chay begins to shift from beneath Kim. It takes an enormous amount of effort, and his alpha is torn between whining loudly at being separated from its mate, and panting encouragingly at the thought of finding something to provide its mate with. As Chay finally – painfully – manages to extricate himself from Kim, laying him gently in the spot of warmth he just vacated, Kim makes another noise – a little louder this time, eyebrows scrunching up and lips turning down into what can only be described as a pout. Squeezing his eyes shut, Chay bites down hard on his fist. Surely this can’t be good for my health, he thinks hysterically, bravely opening his eyes once more and, again, being blasted with the sight of a sleeping Kim pouting into his pillow.

Deep breaths, Chay. Deep breaths.

In a feat of indescribable strength, Chay tears his eyes away and tiptoes across the room to Kim’s wardrobe. Surely he wouldn’t mind – they’re mates, after all – and he wouldn’t want to steal any of his clothes back from Kim’s nest, so this really is the only option –

Chay shakes his head, trying not to feel like he’s intruding as he finds a large grey hoodie and pulls it on, knees going a little weak at the way his omega’s scent settles, warm and soft, against his skin. Giddily, he pulls the hood over his head and tightens the drawstrings so that the edges of it are closer to his face. It’s big on him, falling over his hands, and he thinks that he’s just slightly taller than Kim, so it must be even bigger when he wears it – oh, maybe it falls to his knees and he wears it without anything underneath – maybe, even – maybe he’d wear one of Chay’s hoodies if Chay asked really nicely, and he’d roll his eyes when Chay giggles at the way it’s far too large on him, but there would be a dusting of red sitting pretty at the tops of his cheeks, and his legs would be bare, and he would push Chay down onto the bed to stop his laughing and straddle him, resting his weight squarely atop Chay’s –

“For fuck’s sake, Chay,” he whispers to himself, giving his own cheek a firm tap. He turns his attention back to the wardrobe, rustling around until he finds some comfy trousers and slips them on. They’re a little big around the waist and a little short at the ankles. Chay doesn’t think about it too much.

A minute later, he’s tentatively peeking around Kim’s doorframe and into the corridor. Throwing one last longing glance over his shoulder at Kim’s sleeping form, he steps out and shuts the door. A little too late, he realises – he has absolutely no idea where he is. Coming here, he’d been – well, Chay, thinks, blushing, he’d been carried the entire way by Kim, nose buried in his neck, drinking down his scent greedily. Now, he looks around, taking in the long corridor; the sleek, expensive looking décor, and – door after door after door.

“Shit,” Chay mutters under his breath, resigning himself to wandering back where he thinks they came from until he finds someone kind-hearted enough to point him in the direction of wherever food is kept in this house. Or – can it even be described as a house? Surely it would be a mansion. Or perhaps a castle, at this point – it looked as big as one from the outside. A sudden pang of insecurity hits Chay – his mate is loaded. There’s no way he’ll be able to buy anything for him that would surprise or amaze him; he probably owns it all already. Chay sighs quietly, feet dragging a little as he makes his way down the corridor. No – Kim is kind. He wouldn’t reject a gift Chay gives him. But is it enough to simply not reject it? Chay wants his mate to adore the things he gives him. Oh – maybe he can make something instead; something that comes straight from the heart – then it would be something Kim doesn’t already own, and it would be more meaningful –

“Stop!”

A voice rings out, bouncing starkly off the high ceilings and making Chay flinch. He blinks, coming out of his thoughts – and then there’s someone in front of him, running towards him, arm outstretched – what the fuck, is that a fucking gun – ?

Chay only has time to open his mouth to – scream? Protest? Plead for his life? – before the barrel of the gun is shoved heavily into his shoulder, sending him staggering backwards. Pain blooms across his collarbone immediately, and he cries out, hand flying to his injury. All at once, his alpha is whining loudly in his head, crying out for its mate, for protection, for comfort; tears spring to Chay’s eyes at the intensity of the feeling. He looks up, breath shaking, and sees a man, perhaps in his late twenties, staring unforgivingly at him down the barrel of his gun.

“Hood off. Show your face or I’ll shoot you right now,” the man says, and Chay scrambles to obey, still hunched over with pain arcing over his collarbone. His head is a mess of panic, unable to even wonder why on earth there are people wearing full suits and holding guns wandering around his mate’s house. His hands tremble as he pulls down his hood, watching the man’s face – watching as it transforms into shock, realisation, and then pure panic.

“Oh shit,” the man says, lowering his gun so fast that his arm makes a noise when it snaps harshly to his side. “I apologise, Khun Porchay – I – I couldn’t see your face properly with your hood in the way, so I thought you were an intruder.”

“I – it’s okay?” Chay replies, utterly bewildered, even though the now fading pain in his shoulder is certainly not okay and will definitely bruise. He’s reeling from the sudden change in the man’s demeanour, the shock of having a gun pointed at him, and the fact that he’s been referred to as Khun Porchay. Quite frankly, he just wants to go back to Kim’s room and snuggle into the warmth of his mate and maybe cry a little bit – but then there are footsteps from behind him, and he spins around, pulse spiking as he anticipates another attack.

“What’s going on? I heard raised voices,” says Kinn, walking quickly down the corridor, expression sporting a furrowed, concerned brow. Immediately, Chay’s alpha picks up on Porsche’s scent lingering on him, and cries out for hia safety pack, and Chay is running to him before he realises it, clutching at one of his shirtsleeves with still-shaking fingers.

“Porchay? Are you alright?” Kinn asks, glancing down at the unyielding grip Chay has on his sleeve, before looking back at the man standing a few feet away from them, taking in the gun still in his grip. His expression transforms into realisation, eyes hardening.

“Wait in my office,” he tells the man, and Chay thinks he sees a bead of sweat slide down the side of the man’s face before he swallows, nods, and quickly turns to walk back the way he came. Kinn sighs slowly, turning back to Chay. Danger gone, Chay quickly lets go of Kinn’s sleeve, embarrassed heat spilling over his cheeks. Once again, he mourns the loss of his mate’s warmth; his body pressed comfortingly over his own, and reaches up to tug the hood of Kim’s hoodie over his head once more, sniffing it in a way that he hopes is subtle. By the small quirk of Kinn’s lips, he doesn’t think he succeeds.

“I’m sorry about that. All the guards should know exactly who you are. I’ll see that he is punished accordingly,” Kinn says, voice deliberately quiet, a stark contrast to the hardness that resided there when he spoke to the guard. Chay finds a little bit of Porsche within it, and feels his body relax. He nods shortly, mustering a grateful smile, now feeling a little awkward – he’s hardly met Kinn before, barely remembering him from their first meeting as his mind had been clouded with thoughts of his mate, and now Kinn has had to come and essentially save him while Chay clung pathetically to his shirtsleeve, shaking. What a sorry excuse for an alpha he is.

“I was –”

“Porchay, I –”

Both alphas begin to speak at the same time. Chay lets out a strange, nervous little giggle, and Kinn smiles indulgently, gesturing for him to continue.

“I, um – I wasn’t just wandering around, I swear! I was – well, Kim, um – P’Kim is asleep, and I thought he would be hungry when he woke up, so I was just trying to find somewhere, to, maybe – get some food for him?”

Too late, Chay realises the implications of Kim being asleep – asleep, fucked out in his nest that we have been sharing – and flushes to the roots of his hair. In front of him, Kinn’s expression does something a little strange – there’s amusement there, and something like fondness, but there’s also something beneath; something being held back. It’s gone in a second; Chay wonders if he’d seen it wrong.

“Of course,” Kinn says, turning to walk down the corridor, in the direction Chay was originally walking. “I can show you where the kitchens are. They’ll make something for you.”

“Oh, I – I don’t to be an inconvenience,” Chay says hurriedly, stumbling a little as he hastens to follow Kinn. Internally, he berates himself once more. Just how many times can he embarrass himself in front of his brother’s alpha?

Kinn turns to him, giving him a strange look. “Why would that be an inconvenience?”

Chay hesitates, feeling a little like he’s missing something. “Well, I could just make something myself?”

At that, Kinn laughs, as if Chay had told a particularly funny joke, and doesn’t say anything more. Hia, your taste in alphas is really weird, Chay thinks privately.

When they reach the kitchens (after far too much time – the place really is as big as a castle), Kinn tells Chay to ask the kitchen staff (because there are actual kitchen staff) to make whatever he wants. Chay panics a little, and says the first thing that comes to his mind, which is omelette and rice, and the staff bustle off with only a “of course, Khun Porchay,” and a bow of the head. A little bewildered, Chay opens his mouth to offer to help, but Kinn speaks before he can.

“Porchay – would you mind?” He gestures to a door across from the kitchen. “I just want to speak to you for a moment.”

“Oh, I – okay,” Chay says, nervousness making him stutter. Kinn leads him into what seems like a study, or maybe an office: there are bookshelves against the far wall, and a desk in the middle. Feeling a little (a lot) out of place, Chay follows Kinn inside, the door shutting behind them. For a moment, nobody speaks, and Chay reaches up to fiddle with the drawstrings on Kim’s hoodie, letting his mate’s scent soothe his nerves. His alpha is on edge, pacing, wanting the approval of his brother’s mate but feeling more than a little unworthy.

“Porchay,” Kinn begins, then sighs, closing his mouth again. He regards Chay, expression contemplative and a little closed off, like he’s trying to figure something out but can’t quite put his finger on it. Chay wonders just what it is that has him so thoughtful – he doesn’t think he’s particularly complicated.

“You can just call me Chay, if you want,” he says, just to break the silence. The corner of Kinn’s mouth twitches – not quite a smile, but almost.

“Chay,” he says, and Chay gives an awkward thumbs up before the part of his brain that deals with normal human social cues drags him back bodily by the collar. Kinn doesn’t react, and Chay shuffles on his feet, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“What do you think of Kim?” Kinn continues, and Chay freezes, eyes widening in surprise. He blinks, waiting a few seconds to make sure that he hadn’t misheard, but Kinn simply stares at him, expression unreadable.

“I – um,” Chay starts eloquently, and, unwittingly, his thoughts drift back to where Kim is laying in his – their, Chay thinks dreamily – nest, snuggled into the blankets – perhaps he’d reached for Chay in his sleep, and, finding no warm body to hold, instead unconsciously grasped Chay’s discarded t-shirt, burying his nose in it, yearning for Chay’s scent –

Kinn clears his throat, and Chay jumps.

“Kim!” he shouts, and Kinn raises his eyebrows. “He’s – well, P’Kim is perfect, of course.”

The room is quiet. Chay nods to himself – that pretty much sums it up. Kim is perfect. When he looks at Kinn once more, the other alpha doesn’t look impressed.

“That’s it?” Kinn asks, and Chay scrambles to speak again, feeling as if he’s failing some sort of test.

“I mean – yes? He is perfect. I was always so excited to meet my mate – I always wondered what they would be like, but … I never could’ve imagined someone like P’Kim. He’s – well, I suppose I haven’t known him that long, but I think he’s perfect already. I’m pretty sure I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him loads of times but he never made me feel bad for it. He’s really kind. And I know some things are hard for him, but we’ve worked it out, and I’m sure we can keep doing that whenever something comes up. I’ll never do anything he doesn’t want – of course not. That would be – and he would never do anything like that to me, too, I know he wouldn’t. He’s so nice. And pretty. Um –”

Snapping back to reality, Chay takes in Kinn’s shocked expression. Shit, Chay thinks – he’s said all the wrong things. He’s supposed to talk about how Kim is someone he can see himself providing for; protecting – he’s not supposed to talk about how nice he is to him. But he is nice, his alpha chimes in a little sulkily. I know, but we want his brother to approve of us, Chay whispers back, placating.

Looking back at Kinn, Chay sees that his lips are parted like he’s about to speak, but he says nothing. Chay waits, shifting from one foot to another. He feels a little like he’s on trial, nervously anticipating the judge’s verdict. Finally – finally – Kinn speaks.

“Did Kim tell you that he never wanted an alpha?”

For the second time, Chay freezes.

“I…” Chay begins, then trails off. “No. He … didn’t tell me that.”

Chay swallows, hard. Suddenly, the pain at his shoulder flares again, but he hardly notices it. His alpha is howling in distress, distraught at the idea of their mate rejecting them. But he didn’t, Chay thinks desperately. And it’s true – Kim had been the one to pick him up and carry him to his nest at their first meeting. He’d been the one to position himself atop Chay; the one to kiss his neck and make him come. But – now that he thinks back – there had been some reluctance there, at first. Some hesitation; even some fear behind Kim’s eyes before it had been taken over with lust. What if – what if Kim really doesn’t want him, but the instinct to be with his mate is too much? What if after the initial rush of hormones is over, he’ll regret everything and push Chay away? What if – and Chay feels his breath become shallow, throat closing up – what if Kim hadn’t wanted any of this, but he thought that Chay would force him; that Chay would use his alpha to make Kim’s omega submit if he didn’t give him what he wanted?

“I – did I – did he –” Chay stutters, panic making him stumble over his own breath. He breathes hard, tamping down on the harsh motion of his chest as much as he can, still trying his best not to appear weak in front of Kinn. The other alpha looks concerned, but that guarded emotion is still there, and he doesn’t reach out.

“I just want you to be aware,” he says, and Chay clenches his hands tight into fists, hidden within his pocket. “Kim won’t yield to you, not like you’ve probably been expecting. And if you try to force him, it won’t end well for you.”

“Yield? I wasn’t – that’s not –”

There’s a knock on the door. Chay jumps, then internally berates himself for it. Kinn calls for whoever is outside to come in, and Chay turns to see one of the kitchen staff holding a tray with two plates of omelette and rice accompanied by what looks like glasses of orange juice.

“Your food is ready, Khun Porchay.”

“Oh – yes, right, thank you,” Chay says hurriedly, having forgotten all about what he ventured out of Kim’s room in the first place for. He reaches forward to take the tray, but the staff holds on, seeming surprised.

“Oh – I can take it to wherever you need, Khun Porchay.”

“Um – right. Okay.”

Chay lets go, stepping back. Turning around, he sees Kinn still standing in the same position as before, expression as contemplative as ever.

“I –” Chay starts; takes a deep breath, and starts again. “I just want to make him happy. That’s all I want. Nothing more.”

Before he can see Kinn’s reaction, Chay turns away.

“To, um – to P’Kim’s room, please,” he tells the kitchen staff. They nod politely and turn away, and Chay follows them without a backward glance.

When they reach the corridor outside of Kim’s room – one that Chay actually recognises – Chay tells the kitchen staff that he’ll take it from here, thanks them profusely, and makes his way towards Kim’s doorway. Part of him is ecstatic at the thought of seeing Kim again; it feels like it’s been hours since he last held his mate; kissed him; touched him – but the other part wants to turn and run. Wants to leave before Kim can tell him to. There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head that whispers scathingly to him that he’s being illogical, but the distressed whines of his alpha, still hung up on Kinn’s words, drowns it out easily.

As Chay reaches the door, he takes a deep breath, and steels himself.

Whatever Kim wants. Whatever he wants, I will give him. Even if whatever he wants is not me.

When he pushes open the door awkwardly, hands full, he realises that with all his deep breaths and internal pep talks, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that Kim might already be awake. He’d thought he would have at least a few minutes – but no, Kim is sitting up in their nest, hair rumpled, eyes barely open, looking like he’d immediately sat up upon waking. As Chay slowly closes the door behind him, he glares at the alpha accusingly.

“What the fuck?” he says, and Chay freezes.

“Um.”

“Why are you not here? Why are you over there? Where did you go?”

Chay’s heart clenches painfully. Kim, his mate, his omega, is sitting up in bed, blankets rumpled around his waist, chest bare, and he’s pouting. Chay is reminded of a particularly grumpy cat who loves snuggles but hates asking for them.

“Your stomach was rumbling. I went to get some food.” Chay manages, walking over to the bed and placing the tray down on the side table, planning to sit next to Kim and then lift it onto their laps – but as soon as his hands are free, he’s being tugged back onto the bed and pushed back against the pillows, letting out a surprised squeak as Kim swings a leg over him, situating himself firmly atop Chay’s crotch.

“I don’t want food, I want you,” Kim says, and Chay’s brain grinds to a halt.

“Oh. Um. I – you – okay!” he splutters. Kim seems satisfied with his response, and Chay is reminded of how very naked he is when he starts grinding down. Mouth falling open, Chay lets out a shaky breath, hands coming up to rest on Kim’s hips – hips, waist and thighs are allowed when Kim is on top of him like this, he’s learned, as long as he doesn’t move too fast or do anything unexpected. He hasn’t asked, yet, what made Kim so wary before; so jumpy when Chay tried to touch him for the first time. Suddenly feeling cold, Chay wonders if it has anything to do with what Kinn said – did Kim tell you that he never wanted an alpha? – and it must, Chay realises – Kim didn’t want to be touched by Chay, by an alpha, at first – did Chay pressure him? No, he’s sure he didn’t, surely not – but what if it wasn’t Chay, but the intense feelings of meeting his mate? Maybe they made Kim want things that he usually wouldn’t; maybe –

“Chay.”

Chay snaps back to the present. Kim has stilled, and he’s staring down at Chay guardedly, expression confused and a little apprehensive.

“Do you not want…?” Kim begins, trailing off, starting to lift himself off Chay’s body – and Chay panics, hands tightening on his hips to stop him. Then he panics again, because why is he stopping Kim from moving away? He can go wherever he wants to. If he wants to not be near Chay, he can; Chay won’t stop him. Abruptly, Chay’s hands spring away from Kim, hovering awkwardly near him in a painful imitation of their first time.

“Sorry! I do want – I want to. I just –” Chay cuts himself off. He looks up at Kim, and devastation rushes through him when he realises there’s now a layer of hurt, laid delicately over the confusion and hesitation. Chay’s alpha yowls in distress, straining towards Kim, needing to comfort him; to show him he’s wanted. Slowly, Chay moves his hands back to Kim’s hips, and Kim seems to relax a little. Chay breathes a sigh of relief, allowing the satisfaction he feels at the sight of his mate finding comfort in his touch.

“I’m sorry,” Chay repeats, a little calmer this time. “I just… had something… on my mind.”

Kim scoffs, but the hurt is still there, except now it’s like he’s trying to cover it up. “Something more interesting than fucking me?”

“No,” Chay answers immediately, then backtracks, because actually – “or – yes, maybe. Or – I don’t know!”

Groaning, Chay squeezes his eyes shut, and, embarrassingly, almost whimpers when he feels Kim slide off him, the bed dipping at his side. Opening his eyes once more, he looks down and curses internally at the way he’s managed to get it up already; pulling a blanket over his lower half, he clears his throat, turning to look sheepishly at Kim. His mate only raises an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused in amongst all the hurt and confusion.

Well, that’s something, Chay thinks disparagingly. At least, if all else fails, I can amuse him.

Kim stays silent, and Chay takes it as the command it is. Explain.

“I, um …” Chay begins, fingers picking at the edges of the blanket. “I met your brother, when I went to get food. He –”

“Which one?” Kim interrupts, and Chay startles.

“Oh – it was P’Kinn. I didn’t know you had more.”

“Just one more. Carry on.”

“Okay,” Chay says, feeling a little frazzled. “Um, so – he wanted to talk to me, so he pulled me aside, and, he, um – he told me… some things.”

There’s quiet for a moment as Chay musters up the courage to repeat what Kinn had said – but before he can even come close, there’s a thud and a loud, muffled groan beside him. Chay jumps and turns to see Kim’s entire face buried in the pillow, only his still-dishevelled hair visible. After a minute, where Chay debates whether or not this sort of thing warrants an intervention or if he should just leave Kim to it, Kim resurfaces.

“Let me guess,” his mate says, expression entirely put-upon. “He told you that I hate alphas and you better not expect me to be a docile little submissive omega, because he’ll – I don’t know, shoot you or, like, cut all your limbs off while you’re still alive and then feed them to you if you try to hurt me, or something.”

“He’ll what?!” Chay squeaks, staring at Kim with wide, alarmed eyes. “I mean – not that I’m – I would never – but, P’Kim, that’s awfully specific – um.”

Kim scoffs, unphased. “Well? Was that what he told you?”

“Not – exactly. He just said – well, he said you… never wanted an alpha, and I shouldn’t try to get you to submit because it won’t end well for me if I do. But I wasn’t going to do that anyway, so I wasn’t worried about that part – I just…” Chay trails off, blinking hard. “It made me worried… that you didn’t really want… this.” Me. “That somehow I’d pressured you, or – or it was just the hormones, or – ah –”

Yet another undignified squeak is punched out of him as Kim sits up and sits himself securely back on top of Chay’s lap once more. As he does, he mutters something about stupid overprotective older brothers that Chay can’t quite make out, but it doesn’t matter because all his focus is on the beautiful omega sitting on the tops of this thighs, hands dangerously close to his crotch.

“I do hate alphas,” Kim says plainly, and Chay’s brows furrow, mouth opening before closing once more, unsure how to respond. “Because alphas are annoying, and they have huge egos, and they think that as soon as they meet their mate that they should be in charge of them, and their omega should just be a cute little fucktoy that they get to use whenever they want.”

A whine bubbles up inside Chay’s throat. “I wouldn’t –”

“I know,” Kim interrupts, leaning down so that his arms cage Chay in and his breath tickles Chay’s lips. “You’re… really not very alpha-like at all.”

Chay’s breath catches. Kim is so close, looking down at him, and he looks happy; he looks caring; he looks like he wants Chay, but his words – you’re really not very alpha-like. Chay remembers wondering what his mate would think of him when he met them, and, usually, he would imagine that they like his softness and his awkwardness and the way that his love is a cool dousing of water rather than an all-consuming blaze. But sometimes – perhaps at night, when his brain was most tired and the dark, scuttling thoughts kept buried at the back of his mind were set free, images would come to him unwittingly: his mate getting bored with him; being disappointed with him; telling him that he is simply not alpha enough for them.

And now it’s really happening.

Chay’s insecurities don’t leave room for critical thinking; for thinking even a little about how Kim’s words were undoubtedly positive; all he hears is not alpha enough and suddenly his throat is closing up.

“Chay? Are you –”

“I can do better,” Chay bursts out, eyes wet, voice trembling, sending Kim flinching back slightly in shock. “I can be better – be a better alpha. I can, I can do it. I know I’m not – but I’ll do whatever you want, please don’t –”

“Chay, what are you talking about? Why would you need to be better? You’re perfect.”

Both of them freeze.

Kim clears his throat and leans back. He’s avoiding eye contact, red blooming over his cheeks. Chay feels as if someone is holding out an item – the thing he wants most in the entire universe, right there – and telling him he can take it, go ahead, no catch, no consequences. It feels wholly too good to be true.

“Perfect?” He tries, voice quiet. For a moment, Kim doesn’t say anything. Then –

“Yes, perfect,” he sighs, looking completely, utterly embarrassed but still genuine. “You’re – I didn’t think an alpha like you existed, but here you are. So. You better not leave. Unless you want to. Obviously. But I wouldn’t – want you to, not like you’re thinking. Fuck, this is so –”

Kim’s face is entirely red now. Chay gets the idea that he doesn’t often talk about his feelings. Slowly, a grin forms on Chay’s face, and when Kim catches it, he rolls his eyes, huffing, asking him what the hell are you smiling about, you little –

Chay surges up so that he’s sitting upright, hands resting gently back atop Kim’s hips. Kim’s own hands move automatically to Chay’s shoulders. They’re nose to nose, and as a single leftover tear makes its way down Chay’s cheek, all he can think about is how beautiful his mate is.

“I think you’re perfect too,” Chay says, and leans forward to kiss him.

It feels different, this time. This time, their heads are a little clearer; they know each other a little better – just a little. Chay’s alpha is howling, rejoicing loudly at the confirmation that their mate wants them; thinks they’re perfect, and all Chay can do is make a soft, desperate noise into Kim’s mouth as the omega slides a hand into his hair and tugs, nails scratching at his scalp. They part as Chay gasps, eyelids becoming heavy. Kim looks down at him with dark eyes, and there is absolutely no doubt that he wants Chay.

“Do you want to fuck me again, alpha?” Kim breathes, and, unconsciously, Chay’s mouth opens wider, as if to drink in his mate’s words and keep them within his lungs, safe. It’s all he can do to muster up a frantic “yes,” before Kim kisses him again, hand firm in his hair, the other reaching down to shove his – Kim’s – trousers off his hips. There’s a hot, bubbling stream of pleasure, sitting just below his skin, that lights up at Kim calling him alpha – the reminder that he is Kim’s, and Kim is his. Breaking him out of his thoughts, Kim grasps at his wrist and pulls his hand back – behind Kim, sliding down until it reaches –

“Kim,” Chay breathes reverently as Kim allows him to touch where he’s most wet, fingers sliding inside immediately. Above him, Kim bites his lip, red spots high on his cheeks, hair messy as it falls about his face. He looks like an angel, something inhumanly beautiful, sent from the heavens, so out of place here on earth. I will treasure him, Chay thinks hazily, pressing his fingers deeper and watching as Kim’s mouth falls open, a soft, pleasured noise falling out. His hips start to move, pressing back against Chay’s fingers, and Chay follows him, pushing further when he presses back; he's sure he’s never concentrated on one action so intensely, desperate as he is to make Kim feel good.

“Enough,” Kim says after some time, reaching back to pull Chay’s hand out before grasping his cock, placing it carefully at his entrance and pushing down.

Somehow, it feels even better than the first time.

“Kim,” Chay whines when he is fully inside, and Kim responds by tugging harder at his hair and placing his other hand on Chay’s neck. He holds him firm as he begins to move on Chay’s cock, hips grinding back and forth, gasping as he does, as if he’s revelling in just how deep Chay is inside of him. Chay feels trapped in the best way, held by the hair and the neck as Kim uses him to make himself feel good. His alpha is utterly blissed out, content with the fact that he’s useful to their omega; it’s his cock that Kim is bouncing on, tucked deep inside him.

He isn’t sure when, but Chay starts speaking. He’s almost delirious, legs shaking with pleasure, and he’s muttering something about mate and Kim and omega and perfect, sure he’s not making any sense – but Kim just gazes down at him, satisfaction clear in his expression, and smiles.

“Do you feel good, alpha?” He asks, voice molten, as his hand tightens around Chay’s neck – just slightly. Chay moans, eyes rolling back – he might be drooling, but in this moment he doesn’t care; his entire world is just Kim Kim Kim –

“Kim –”

Chay almost falls back as he comes, but Kim holds him tight, holding him together. Without meaning to, he wraps his arms all the way around Kim’s waist, crushing him to his chest, needing him closer, distantly noting the surprised little oof that Kim lets out, followed by a breathless, fond laugh. Distantly, he hears Kim talking, low words pressed against the shell of his ear, and it makes him whine; he feels as if Kim has made a home inside him, settled there to stay, turning an empty room into a place of comfort and refuge, lived-in and safe.

“Fuck, Chay,” he feels, barely a breath against his ear, and then Kim is gasping, body jerking beneath Chay’s hands. Chay almost immediately gets hard again when he realises Kim is not only using his cock but rubbing himself against Chay’s front, leaving a wet spot on his own hoodie as he comes; he’s making muffled little breathless noises as he clutches tightly onto Chay, and Chay has never felt safer.

It seems to be forever before their breaths even out and Kim’s hands slide back to rest against Chay’s shoulders, arms firm around him as he buries his face in Chay’s neck. They hold each other, Kim occasionally pressing kisses into Chay’s skin, while Chay breathes deeply, nosing at Kim’s shoulder, allowing himself to float in pattering raindrops and deep, curving mahogany. Occasionally, Chay gasps as Kim sucks a little harder, making sure that every inch of Chay’s neck is covered in his marks. Chay surrenders himself willingly.

Then – Kim moves, hand pressing gently but insistently against the back of Chay’s head. Chay lets himself be guided so that his nose is now brushing against Kim’s neck; the scent of him here is heavenly; pure, and Chay breathes in deeply, a small whine blooming in his throat. Above him, he hears Kim huff out a small, fond laugh. Then –

He tilts his head back.

Chay’s breath catches. It isn’t submission, not exactly – but it’s vulnerable. He feels Kim’s heart beating fast against his chest, and, without thinking, he begins to slowly rub his hands over Kim’s sides in an attempt to comfort him.

“Go ahead,” Kim whispers. His voice shakes a little, but he sounds firm nonetheless.

Chay doesn’t patronise him by asking if he’s sure. He knows, without a doubt, Kim would not offer this if he wasn’t. So, instead, he tilts his chin upwards, just a little; opens his mouth, just enough –

And he bites.

It isn’t a mating bite. Those, if they decide, will come much later. All it is, is a mark – a sign to show that Kim is Chay’s, as Chay is his. There are what seems like hundreds on Chay’s own neck, willing as he is to lay back and submit to his omega – but so far, Kim’s neck has remained bare.

On Kim’s waist, Chay’s hands shake.

Kim lets out a small, barely audible gasp, and Chay moans, high and desperate, deep in his throat, securing his lips around the skin of Kim’s neck and sucking hard.

“That’s it, alpha,” Kim breathes, hand stroking tenderly through Chay’s hair. The alpha whines again, almost frantic, clutching Kim to him as if at any moment someone might try to take him away. Inexplicably, he feels arousal bubbling beneath his tongue, flowing molten beneath his skin once more, and his hips jerk upwards without his permission; Kim gasps again, breath catching on a surprised moan, and Chay breaks away, panting –

“Fuck – sorry, sorry – I didn’t mean – I’m just –”

“Shhhh,” Kim soothes, taking Chay’s face in his hands, eyes flicking down to where Chay knows his lips must be red and swollen. “It’s okay. Do you need to come again, alpha?”

Chay nods, staring plaintively up at his mate. He feels as if every other breath of his catches on a desperate whine; he just wants Kim so much, always, and Kim so kind to indulge him; to let him fuck him, over and over –

Kim starts moving his hips, grinding down in tiny motions, occasionally lifting up and dropping back down just a little, and it’s enough for Chay to start panting like a dog, mouth hanging wide open in a way he knows must look pathetic – but when he focusses his eyes once more, Kim is staring down at him with hunger clear in his gaze, making hot shivers jump, staticky, across Chay’s skin. His own gaze slides down to Kim’s lips, pink and parted slightly, hot breaths tumbling across them – down to his chin; past it to his neck, long and curving up, the skin unblemished apart from one spot on the side –

“Kim, it – ah, Kim,” Chay whines nonsensically, his alpha going frantic at the sight of his mark standing out, stark against his mate’s neck. “Kim – mate – Kim –”

His legs slide against the sheets, shaking, as if searching for some output for the electric energy coursing through him suddenly; without thinking, he holds onto Kim tightly and rocks forward, pulling his legs beneath him so that he’s kneeling, Kim perched atop his thighs. He clutches at his mate tightly, entire body trembling; he needs – he needs something –

“Chay,” gasps Kim, and Chay’s eyes flick up to his. He’s still moving, pushing himself down onto Chay’s cock, grinding deep so that it hits all the right places – and satisfaction fills Chay at the sight of it; of Kim using him to find his own pleasure, but there’s still something missing, he just doesn’t know what –

“Go ahead, alpha, fuck me like you need to, it’s okay –”

As if a leash that had been holding Chay back snaps, suddenly he is pushing up on his knees, wrapping his arms securely around Kim’s waist, and lifting him off his cock before fucking back into him, setting a frantic pace immediately. Kim shouts, a moan knocked out of him from the sudden harsh stimulation, legs tightening where they wrap around Chay’s hips; it’s all he can do to hold into Chay’s shoulders as the alpha fucks him, hips snapping harshly; desperately as Chay pants, moaning loudly. Distantly, Chay notes how light Kim is; how easy it is to pick him up and bounce him on his cock – but his thoughts are instantly overtaken with the way Kim moans, eyes just as intense and commanding as before, locked onto Chay as if he’s something to be desired.

“That’s it,” he manages, voice shaking from the way Chay is moving him up and down. “That’s it, alpha, good boy, you’ve been so good – so good to me, so good for me – take what you need –”

“Kim,” Chay whines, and it’s loud, the one syllable stretched across a long, strained breath. It’s the only word that makes sense at the moment, apart from omega and mate. Kim is the only thing holding him together, skin smooth beneath his palms, legs strong around his hips, arms firm pressed against his shoulders. The sound it makes when Chay thrusts up, pulling Kim back down onto his cock, is obscene, loud and wet – and, god, Kim is so wet, it’s coating the tops of Chay’s thighs and threatening to drip down onto the bed. He’s more wet than he has been during all their other times, as if his body is preparing for something, but Chay’s thoughts race on before he has a chance to wonder exactly why that might be. Suddenly, it’s as if every cell of his entire being is focussed on burying himself as deeply inside Kim as he can; nothing else matters; nothing else will ever matter – Kim’s rain-soaked scent is a downpour all at once, and suddenly a moment of clarity hits him –

“Fuck, oh no – Kim, knot –”

Kim’s eyes widen, and Chay sees the way he instinctively pushes against Chay’s shoulders. It’s enough for Chay to grasp firmly at his waist and lift him high enough that when Chay comes, his knot doesn’t catch, instead pulsing painfully where it presses against Kim’s entrance, now too big to fit back in. Chay sobs, his alpha yowling in dissatisfaction – his mate is right there, why wouldn’t he knot him – and clutches at Kim tighter, hips jerking as he fills Kim once more, except this time the pleasure of it is drowned out by the excruciating ache between his legs. Through the haze of pain and release, he feels something distinctly like guilt snap through him like the release of a rubber band; the way Kim had struggled against him when he realised Chay was going to knot him – accidental as it was – flashes across his eyes. He’d almost – he’d almost knotted Kim without his permission; without asking him if it was okay – and it wasn’t okay; Kim wouldn’t have wanted it –

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Chay gasps, hot tears tumbling down the sides of his face. He repeats the words, the agony of his knot being denied a warm place in which to bury itself combined with the sickening guilt of almost betraying Kim’s trust festers inside him, and he can’t help but sob once more, feeling so sure, this time, that Kim will change his mind about keeping Chay as his mate.

“Fuck, Chay, I – shhhh, it’s okay, please don’t cry,” comes Kim’s voice, his face swimming behind a haze of tears. Chay just shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, unable to stop himself from holding Kim to him tightly, even convinced as he is that Kim will leave. Mortifyingly, his hips are still twitching upwards, body still trying to find a place to bury his knot, and he groans, a low, pained sound. How disgusting Kim must think he is.

Suddenly, his face is being grasped between two hands, the grip on the verge of harsh. Chay gasps, blinking tears from his eyes.

“Chay. Stop apologising,” Kim demands, and Chay snaps his mouth shut, unaware that he had been mumbling choked off “sorry”s this whole time. He whimpers, sure he makes a pitiful sight, and Kim sighs, his own eyes looking a little wet.

“There we go,” Kim says softly, wiping at Chay’s cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

“I didn’t mean to,” Chay says, words tumbling out, unable to keep them in. “I didn’t know – I’ve never knotted before, I – if I realised, I would’ve –”

“You did realise,” Kim interrupts, stopping Chay short. “Did you knot me?”

“N-no,” manages Chay, breath still hitching.

“Why?”

“Wh – because you didn’t want me to,” Chay says, baffled. Kim smiles.

“Exactly,” he says, knowing, as if it’s really that simple. “Do you know how many alphas would’ve been able to pull themselves together enough to pull out when they’re about to knot someone?”

Chay stays silent, blinking up at Kim. Kim stares down at him, mouth curving upwards at the edges.

“I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the only one,” Kim says simply, leaving Chay reeling. “Now, let me show you something.”

Then, he’s pushing upwards onto his knees, letting Chay slide out of him. Involuntarily, Chay whimpers, hips twitching upwards, the ache between his legs spiking – he’s still hard, knot nowhere near to going down, and his head is a mess; he’s still trying to make sense of the fact that Kim isn’t mad at him in the slightest, and in fact, thinks he’s some sort of one-of-a-kind alpha with miracle level restraint – but Kim doesn’t give him time to process before he’s wrapping his hands directly around Chay’s knot and massaging it, hands firm where they circle around it.

“Ah – Kim –”

Immediately, Chay’s eyes roll back as his mouth drops open. He feels as if he’s on fire, the blaze stemming from where Kim’s hands make contact with his knot. It’s unlike anything he’s felt before, the feeling verging on too much; his own hands shoot down to grasp weakly at Kim’s wrists, not pushing him away but simply resting there, his body confused on whether he wants more of this or if more would break him. He feels hot wetness slide down the length of his cock, and, wrenching his eyes from the back of his head, he looks down to see that he’s come again – and he’s still coming, orgasm sending debilitating shocks of electric pleasure through his body; his knees slide against the bedsheets, legs unable to decide whether they want to be open or closed; he hears himself as if from far away, and he’s whining, a pathetic, frantic sound –

“That’s it, you’re okay, good boy, good boy.”

Chay sobs at the sound of Kim’s voice, managing to focus on his face in front of him. He’s looking back at him already, expression awed, as if Chay is something amazing; something precious – and that’s all he can register before another shock of pleasure cracks through him like a whip and his eyes roll back once more, mouth falling open in a silent moan. This time, he falls forward, and Kim catches him immediately, one arm securing around him while the other stays between his legs, hand massaging the last of his orgasm from him. It’s all Chay can do to reach forward with one hand and clutch at the first part of him he comes into contact with – his thigh – as he whimpers weakly into his neck.

“Shit, Chay,” Kim whispers, almost reverently, when it’s over, Chay’s body twitching in Kim’s hold. Distantly, he registers Kim’s arm shifting, and he looks down to see his hand, absolutely covered in Chay’s come, moving over his own cock, spreading the white all over it. Limbs feeling infinitely heavy, Chay wrenches his hand from Kim’s thigh to nudge at his mate’s knuckles, and Kim responds immediately, grasping Chay’s fingers and wrapping them around his cock, using Chay’s hand to jerk himself off. He comes within a minute, breaths hot and saturated with pleasure-soaked moans, and Chay feels satisfaction settle comfortably into the spaces between his tendons; the lining of his lungs and the places where his arteries meet his heart, at the way Kim is using him. That’s what I’m here for Chay thinks hazily, head fuzzy. For Kim. Whatever Kim wants.

For a little while, Chay isn’t truly present. It feels as if every time he blinks, a minute passes instead of a second. He’s leaning against Kim’s shoulder, quiet words settling comfortably into the shell of his ear; then he’s laying down on his back, trousers finally pulled all the way off, Kim hovering over him, expression a little concerned and a lot amused.

“You there, alpha?” he asks – and a more conscious Chay would have realised that his tone is teasing, but as it is, all Chay can do is purr contentedly at the sound of his omega so casually using his title, vocally accepting him as his alpha.

“Yes… omega,” Chay slurs, eyelids heavier than they’ve ever been.

“Oh, wow,” is Kim’s response, a barely contained laugh simmering beneath his tone. “You’re really out of it, huh?”

He mutters something else under his breath – something like didn’t even know alphas could purr – and for some reason, it makes Chay laugh. It’s a giddy, drunk-sounding giggle, and after a second Kim joins him, his own quiet laughter tinged with bemusement as he settles down fully next to Chay, head resting on the pillow beside him.

Eventually, they quiet.

“We really should shower,” Kim suggests, and, nonsensically, it sets Chay off again. He laughs until his stomach hurts, rolling over to bury his face in Kim’s shoulder, and Kim’s arms wind around him automatically, body shaking through his own giggles.

“Did I break you?” Kim asks eventually, words spoken affectionately into Chay’s hair. Chay only hums contentedly in response, prompting a huff of amusement from Kim. He feels soft pressure against the top of his head, and somewhere in the part of his brain that still actually works, Chay realises that Kim has kissed him. Suddenly unable to think of anything else, Chay moves his head back, almost catching Kim in the chin as he does, and pouts up at his mate insistently, watching as Kim’s expression turns from surprise to confusion to something tinged with exasperation but mostly soft, and gentle, and fond.

“What do you want?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, and Chay whines wordlessly, shuffling closer so that he can press a short kiss firmly against Kim’s lips. And Kim – Kim smiles, face breaking into something so beautiful it shakes Chay out of his delirious headspace. His breath catches, and he feels as if he should look away; as if the likes of him should not be laying eyes upon someone as lovely as Kim.

“You’re really pretty,” Chay says quietly, suddenly strangely shy, despite all they’ve done. Kim’s smile falters a little, eyebrows twitching upwards in surprise at Chay’s tone, red settling in a dusting across the tops of his cheeks. Instead of answering, he leans forward and kisses Chay, and Chay can’t help the noise of utter contentment he lets out when their lips meet. His head is a haze of Kim and lips and soft and mate and smells so fucking good, and he sighs quietly as Kim pulls him closer, hand against the small of his back, no doubt leaving yet another stain on the hoodie. Oh, he’s still wearing Kim’s hoodie – he wonders if Kim has noticed. He doesn’t mind, right? Surely Kim knows that the only reason he had to wear it was to go and get –

“The food!” Chay yelps suddenly, sitting upright.

“What the fuck?!” Kim yells, hand disappearing down the side of the bed and reappearing in a split second holding a –

“P’Kim, why do you have a gun?” Chay asks faintly, food, no doubt now cold, already forgotten. Kim blinks at him, expression frozen; apprehensive, as if expecting Chay to turn tail and run at any second. But Chay – Chay catches sight of Kim’s hand – Kim’s come stained hand – holding onto the gun, and he can’t stifle the snort he lets out. Okay – so his mate lives in a huge ass house (castle), has armed bodyguards who threaten to shoot before asking questions, and keeps a gun by his bed. But he's also glancing down at where Chay is looking, spotting the gun, now covered in come, and letting out an exasperated laugh of his own, rolling his eyes, and – well, everyone has their flaws.

“Whatever,” Kim mutters, placing the gun back out of sight, sighing, and shuffling towards Chay, pushing him off the side of the bed. When he stands, Chay stumbles, legs weak, and Kim steadies him while still sitting down on the bed. Chay turns, face heating, to see him barely containing a laugh – until he tries to stand and it’s Chay’s turn to steady him.

Chay raises an eyebrow.

“Shower,” Kim says briskly, tugging Chay towards what must be the bathroom. Chay follows happily.

Chapter Text

When in the bathroom, Kim begins to tug at his own hoodie – the one Chay is still wearing. Chay can’t help but notice that he looks a little mournful as he does, and takes a stab in the dark –

“I can always wear another one of your hoodies after we shower, P’Kim,” he says, grinning, and Kim’s eyes snap up to his. His cheeks redden and he rolls his eyes, clearing his throat and looking away. Chay’s alpha swoons a little. His omega is so cute.

Suddenly, as Kim is pulling the hoodie over Chay’s head, a thought hits him, and, without thinking, he shoves a hand quickly over Kim’s eyes before the omega can get a good look at his naked torso.

“What the fuck, Chay?” Kim says, immediately reaching up to pull Chay’s hand away. “What are you –”

“Just – hang on a second, P’Kim!” Chay responds, voice an octave higher than usual as he tries to figure out his next move. Looking down, he sees it – the nasty bruise forming across his right shoulder and collarbone. It honestly looks worse than it feels, although it had hurt like a bitch at first, but something tells Chay that Kim won’t believe him. Something tells Chay that Kim really, really shouldn’t know about this.

Tell him, Chay’s alpha whispers, conjuring up images of Kim, eyes blazing, expression contorted in rage, scent spiking protectively as he storms through corridors, demanding to know who hurt his mate –

“Chay? What am I waiting for?”

Chay squeaks as Kim’s voice brings him out of his daydreams. He has no idea where that thought had come from – of course he wouldn’t want his mate to be upset. Of course he wouldn’t want Kim to be so angry that he tries to hurt the person who dared to injure Chay…

“I – I want to surprise you!” Chay improvises, turning Kim around and steering him towards the shower. “Um, can you –?”

Kim snorts, vision no longer obscured now that he’s facing away from Chay. He reaches for the wildly overcomplicated shower controls, and soon the sound of water hitting tile fills the room. Hands on his mate’s shoulders, Chay walks them forward again, mind racing, eyes darting about the room as he tries to think of something to ‘surprise’ Kim with; something to keep him turned away…

“So what’s this surprise, then?” Kim says, tone amused, as if he knows that Chay is lying but is perfectly content to let whatever his plan is play out. Chay tries really hard to not find the subtle cockiness hot, fails, and then, in a burst of genius, reaches for the bottle labelled as shampoo on the little shelf attached to the wall.

“Tada!” he says with far too much enthusiasm, uncapping the bottle and pouring some into his band before placing it back on the shelf and dropping the entire dollop onto Kim’s head.

“Oi –”

“Sorry, sorry!” Chay says frantically as Kim’s hand flies up to his eye, where a sizeable drip of shampoo had no doubt immediately slid down his forehead, temporarily blinding him. Chay decides to rectify this situation by trying to grab the showerhead, only to realise it’s one of those classy ones only really rich people have that are attached to the ceiling. Adapting quickly, he simply shoves Kim under the spray, cupping his hand and splashing it over his eye to help the situation along. When he’s done, Kim’s hair is plastered over his eyes, keeping them shut – but now shampoo-less! – and his expression reminds Chay distinctly of a disgruntled cat being forced to take a bath.

“This was your surprise?” Kim asks, deadpan, and Chay breaks into giggles – interrupted by the way he quickly turns Kim back around when the other man begins to shove his hair out of his eyes.

“Take two!” Chay declares, grabbing the shampoo bottle again. Kim sighs, but Chay can hear the fondness saturating the single syllable, and he grins happily to himself.

When Chay actually gets round to washing Kim’s hair, he mentally gives himself the biggest pat on the back of his life, because damn this plan was genius. Kim is leaning back into him, eyes closed, and Chay can’t help but do a little happy dance when he starts purring. His alpha is elated that their omega feels relaxed enough to purr, his scent mellow and soothing, easily discernible even through the strawberry of the shampoo. Even after he gently tilts Kim’s head back to wash all the suds off, his mate is sluggish; pliable as he leans back against Chay’s chest. Delighted, Chay wraps his arms around Kim’s middle, squeezing hard enough that Kim lets out a little “oof” that Chay immediately apologises for; but Kim just laughs quietly, leaning his head back onto Chay’s shoulder and looking up at him through half lidded eyes.

“Hi,” Chay says through a huge grin.

“Hi,” echoes Kim, smile small and secret.

After some time, Chay leans forward just enough to reach for the shelf once more, this time grabbing shower gel. He washes the previously okayed places first; the places he knows he’s allowed to touch: thighs, hips, waist – he scrubs Kim’s hands, cheeks red – then stills with his own hands over Kim’s stomach, turning to him, silently asking for permission. There’s a moment where Kim doesn’t move – but then he nods, that lovely, little smile still there, and Chay smiles right back, hands sliding up to rub suds over Kim’s chest and down his arms, slow enough that Kim could reach out and stop him at any time.

He doesn’t.

All he does is lean against Chay’s chest, head resting comfortably on his shoulder, neck stretched back to accommodate his position. He isn’t baring his neck to Chay; Chay is intelligent enough to know this. What, to another alpha, would have looked like submission, Chay sees as his mate simply relaxed; trusting; allowing himself to be held and cared for.

It makes Chay so, unbelievably happy.

Happy enough that he forgets which shoulder Kim is leaning against.

It happens when the suds are washed off, and Chay’s hands are once again safely wound around Kim’s waist; when Kim parts his lips and looks up at Chay with adoration and desire; when he shifts, tilting his head up just a little, unmistakeably inviting Chay to lean down and kiss him –

Chay winces. It’s just a twinge; a little one – when Kim shifts his head atop Chay’s shoulder. But it makes him freeze, hoping Kim hadn’t noticed, which only makes Kim – who had stopped, brow furrowed – even more suspicious.

“Chay, what is it?” He asks, taking his weight off Chay’s chest and turning around before Chay can stop him.

“Um,” Chay responds eloquently, instinctively trying to think up an excuse even as he realises there’s no use. Kim is entirely still, eyes zoned in on the bruise than spans over Chay’s right shoulder and collarbone.

“Chay,” Kim says slowly, voice carefully controlled. “What is that?”

Silence. Chay shifts his feet nervously.

“That wasn’t there before we went to sleep, Chay,” Kim continues, and Chay’s alpha whines as it picks up on the sharp, anxious spike in Kim’s scent; suddenly, it’s unbearable: the way his mate is clearly so distressed, and Chay scrambles to explain –

“Oh – that was just a mistake!” He says quickly, attempting to sound casual and no doubt falling short horribly. “There was a guard – they didn’t know who I was at first, so they thought –”

Kim growls. It’s a sound Chay has only heard alphas make: a sound of rage, and protectiveness, and a need to attack; to defend a mate. It makes his eyes widen and his breath catch; Kim’s eyes are dark, and their intense blaze combined with the almost-feral noise that vibrates within Kim’s throat makes Chay’s knees go a little weak, head tipping to the side involuntarily as he instinctively submits to his mate. The movement seems to shock Kim, growl stopping abruptly. Chay blinks hard, shaking his head a little to snap himself out of it.

“P’Kim –”

But before he can try once more to calm his mate, Kim is striding past him, out of the shower and then the bathroom door. Chay goes to follow him, realises the shower is still running, spends a precious ten seconds fiddling with the controls before finally figuring out how to turn it off, and then darts after Kim, almost slipping on the slick shower floor. When he reaches the bedroom, Kim is shoving a t-shirt over his still-wet chest, and Chay hurries over to him, stopping his movements.

“P’Kim – wait, at least dry off first! You’ll get sick,” he tries, but Kim ignores him, pulling the clothes over his head as if he hadn’t heard. In voluntarily, Chay whines – his alpha is protesting loudly at the thought of Kim becoming ill from wearing wet clothes, cold and shivering and in pain from something Chay could have prevented – and Kim freezes, t-shirt hanging around his neck. Chay jumps at the opportunity.

“Yes – P’Kim, just – just let me –”

He spins around, looking for – yes, there – running over to a towel hanging on a hook near the bathroom door, Chay grabs it and scurries back to where Kim still stands. Kim doesn’t move as Chay tugs the wet t-shirt back over his head; he stays still when Chay dries his body and squeezes the worst of it from his hair. He is frozen and silent as Chay digs into the closet for another t-shirt, pulling it carefully over Kim’s head and guiding his arms through it; he doesn’t say anything when Chay kneels and offers the gentle grip of his hand on each ankle to help slide trousers over his legs. When the waistband reaches his thighs, Chay pauses. He can’t help but notice the position they’re in – maybe… maybe if he could just take Kim’s mind off the bruise on Chay’s shoulder… maybe he can help –

Chay leans forward, looking up at Kim innocently through his lashes. His breath catches when he sees Kim staring right back, eyes still dark and dangerous. It’s strange – Kim looks murderous, as if the next person who steps into his path will feel his wrath, no matter who they are – but, somehow, in a bone-deep sort of way, Chay knows that none of that rage is directed at him. Somehow, the blaze in Kim’s eyes makes him feel small, and safe, and loved.

He leans forward further, and licks a long path up Kim’s thigh.

Kim doesn’t move, but his scent gets stronger, filling the room with the woody drip of it. Chay gains confidence, planting soft kisses and licks over Kim’s skin, holding eye contact the whole time. His breath comes shallowly; something like excitement fills him as he revels in being the sole recipient of Kim’s attention. Eagerness rises; he licks faster, lips opening wider to kiss open-mouthed at Kim’s inner thigh; right there, right next to his cheek is what he wants most: he wants to turn and open up and let Kim hold him in place as he takes what he wants –

A hand in his hair tugs him back and he goes easily, lips parting in a startled gasp.

“Are you trying to distract me, little alpha?” Kim says quietly. A shudder runs through Chay’s body. Kim is entirely still, his hand unmoveable where it grips Chay’s hair firmly. Belatedly, Chay realises just how much he likes this: being on his knees for Kim, held exactly where his omega wants him.

Chay swallows the soft noise of submission that rises within his throat. “Is – is it working?” He quips, managing a shaky smile and a breathless laugh. The difference between them is glaring; Chay is still naked, kneeling at Kim’s feet as Kim stands over him, fully clothed, tugging at his hair so his neck is fully exposed. Chay’s alpha has practically rolled over already, belly exposed, panting happily.

At Chay’s words, Chay thinks he sees the corner of Kim’s mouth twitch in something fond. But then his eyes dart down to where the bruise stretches over his shoulder, and his lips flatten into a hard line once more; the hand in Chay’s hair disappears, and Kim moves to walk past Chay – past him, to the door, no doubt going to find the guard that hurt Chay and do unspeakable things to them –

Chay scrambles to his feet, darting into Kim’s path. “Wait! Just – just let me go with you, alright? Please?”

Drawing on years of practice being a little brother, Chay pulls out his best puppy dog eyes. Kim’s expression does something complicated, brows twitching. He looks a little like he’s in pain, and Chay starts to worry – but then he’s turning and reaching into the closet, pulling out another hoodie and shoving it over Chay’s head before he can speak. Letting out a little “oof,” Chay lets himself be manhandled into some trousers – and then the world is turning upside down as he’s thrown over Kim’s shoulder.

“P’Kim!” He squeaks, feeling a little dizzy at the effortless display of strength. Kim had picked him up like it was nothing, hands firm on his waist, and now he’s striding towards the door and out into the corridor, arm securely wrapped around Chay’s legs to keep him in place. Resigning himself to his fate, Chay watches the walls pass – and the occasional person who tries not to stare at them as they walk past. He greets them as best as he can, but he’s not sure how effectively it comes across from his position.

After a ridiculous amount of time – Chay muses that he’ll never stop being in awe of how large this house is – Kim stops, and then three loud banging noises ring through the air.

“I’m coming in!” Kim announces – and then they’re moving forward again, and Chay watches Kim’s leg kick the door shut behind them. There’s a yelp and a swear from somebody else in the room, and Chay peers around Kim’s body as much as he can, catching the tail end of his brother jumping up from his position on Kinn’s lap. Kinn is seated behind a large ornate desk, and they’re both wearing what looks like silk bathrobes and nothing else.

“Hi, Hia! P’Kinn,” Chay offers, throwing a little wave in their direction. He can’t quite tell what their expressions are like on account of him being upside down, but he hopes they’re happy to see him.

“Kim? What the hell are you –”

“Who?” Kim interrupts Kinn’s question with one of his own. The room goes silent at the command in his voice. Chay starts to feel a little woozy – from his mate’s tone or the blood pooling in his brain, he isn’t quite sure.

“Kim,” Kinn repeats, tone deliberately placating. “If we could just –”

“Who was it?” Kim snarls, taking a step closer to the desk. Chay isn’t sure if it’s on purpose or not, but his scent, enraged and protective, is practically seeping from him, settling into the curtains and the expensive looking carpet. Unwittingly, Chay feels himself going limp, eyes sliding shut. It’s as if his head is filling with fog, heavy in a comforting sort of way, blanketing his every thought beneath it for safekeeping. Here, he is safe. Here, Kim will protect him. Here, his mate will –

From a distance, Porsche is speaking. Chay hears his name, and then, suddenly, rudely, he is being deposited on what might be the most comfortable sofa of his life.

“Huh?” He inquires eloquently, blinking up at Kim’s worried expression. The anger in his eyes is still there, but now his brow is pinched in what can only be concern, and Chay whines, reaching up to rub clumsily over the little crease in the skin of his forehead.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles as Kim lets him do as he pleases. Suddenly, he gets an idea – placing both palms on the sides of Kim’s face, he pushes them inwards, squishing the omega’s cheeks, turning his lips into a pout. For some reason, it’s absolutely hysterical – while also being the cutest thing Chay has ever seen – and he falls about laughing, tears springing to his eyes. If he was a little more aware, he might have noticed Porsche’s amused scoff as he mutters about Chay being completely scent-drunk, but as it is, his mind seems to only have room for the way Kim’s ears are turning red as Chay coos “cute! My P’Kim is so cute!” at him.

Then, Kim straightens up, facing Kinn once more. Chay whines – doesn’t his mate want to pay attention to him? And Kim makes an aborted movement, as if he had started to turn back to Chay entirely on instinct. He sighs and offers a hand, which Chay takes gladly, shuffling to sit at the edge of the sofa so he can rub his cheek over Kim’s wrist, nuzzling his nose into it and inhaling deeply.

“Kinn,” Kim demands, only a small note of embarrassment in his voice, drawing the attention of the other alpha and omega in the room. Chay hears Kinn sigh, and something in the back of his mind is struggling for consciousness – something that registers the tension in the room. Chay pushes it back down in favour of pressing a kiss to each of Kim’s fingertips.

“Kim, just think about this. It’s not like it was a purposeful incident. I’ve spoken to the guard –”

“I don’t care who you’ve spoken to,” Kim growls, and Chay frowns, an involuntary whimper pushing against the back of his teeth. Kim’s hand fits against his cheek, thumb moving in a gentle, soothing motion, and Chay nuzzles into it. The something in the back of his head is getting louder, insisting that he pay attention because this is important, but his mate’s scent is so lovely and it’s right there, Kim’s wrist so close – surely nothing could be more important than that…

“Hold on – I think I deserve to know what’s going on here. Did something happen to Chay? Is he hurt?”

The scents in the room intensify as Porsche speaks – Chay’s alpha paces, anxious at the obvious distress from two omegas in its pack. The voice is clearer now, driving through the fog within Chay’s mind and allowing him to pay closer attention to the situation: he sees Porsche, glancing at him with concerned eyes; Kinn, looking resigned behind the desk; Kim, posture tense but hand so gentle where it cradles Chay’s face.

“Yes,” Kim grits out in response to Porsche’s question. “He is hurt. My mate is hurt. And if you don’t tell me who the fuck hurt him in the next five seconds I swear to god I’ll –”

“Wait!” Chay manages, jumping up and grabbing onto Kim’s arm to stop him from taking another threatening step towards Kinn. The fog lingers, but it’s light, tendrils of candyfloss clinging to his hair that he flicks away with a shake of his head. “Look, it’s – it’s really not that bad! It’s just a bruise!”

“A bruise?” Porsche says, alarmed, moving towards Chay. When he reaches him, he looks him over, eyes catching on his neck – images of Kim on top of him, mouth attached to his skin flash through Chay’s mind, and his face heats – and thankfully moving on with only a raise of his brow.

Chay sighs. “Hia, it’s not –”

“Right shoulder.”

Chay gapes, turning to look at Kim, betrayed. Porsche reaches forward and tugs down the material of Chay’s (Kim’s, Chay’s alpha corrects dreamily) hoodie, scent spiking in anger as he takes in the mark left by the guard’s gun.

“Who the hell did this to you?” Porsche demands, and Chay squeezes his eyes shut, praying for strength. He’s trying very hard not to pay attention to his alpha, who is torn between being distressed at the tension in Kim and Porsche’s scents, and preening at the attention of the two omegas, so utterly protective over him.

“That’s what I’m trying to fucking find out,” Kim responds, glaring daggers at Kinn. Porsche turns to him too, and Chay spares a moment to feel sorry for Kinn, who is currently the target of two seething omegas, ready to do whatever it takes to protect their pack. Kinn seems to realise this, and raises both hands in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture, opening his mouth – then seems to think better of it, sighs, and reaches down to press a button on a small tablet at his desk.

“Big, send him in,” he says simply, and a moment later, Chay hears the door open, a familiar face walking in. It’s the guard from earlier, except this time he looks absolutely petrified; Chay thinks he sees an actual bead of sweat drip down his brow as he moves forward stiffly, hands behind his back.

“Y-you wanted to see me, Khun Kinn?” He stutters, taking in the way Kim has turned, slowly, and is now staring him down, deadly and silent.

“Look, it’s really – he thought I was an intruder!” Chay tries, a last ditch attempt to salvage the situation. “I had my hood up and everything – he couldn’t see my face so obviously he thought – wait, P’Kim –”

And, really – Chay tried. He really did. But when Kim stalks towards the man, expression wrought with rage, grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall – well, what is Chay supposed to do? His alpha is useless, giggling nonsensically at the way Kim’s scent reeks of protectiveness; it’s clear to anyone within a ten metre radius that he is someone dangerous; someone who will do anything to protect his mate. It’s all Chay can do to stay standing, knees going a little weak, head fuzzy, as Kim lands the first punch despite the guard’s protests.

“Shit,” Porsche says, eyebrows raised. He looks impressed, and Chay feels something giddy and pleased at the idea of his brother approving of his mate. Kinn simply looks resigned, as if this was the exact outcome he had expected.

“I – you heard him, I didn’t know! It wasn’t on purpose, I didn’t know it was Khun Porch –”

Smack.

The guard collapses to the ground, eyes unfocussed. The noise from the punch is the loudest yet, and it seems to echo around the room. Everyone holds very still as Kim stares down at the guard, crumpled at his feet.

“Keep my mate’s name,” Kim says, words carrying easily through the air despite their low volume. “Out of your fucking mouth.”

Chay feels faint.

Kinn’s voice interrupts the silence, sounding tense. “Kim, I think that’s enough.”

Out of the corner of Chay’s eye, he sees Kinn nod towards him where he’s standing by the sofa as Kim turns. It causes Kim’s eyes to flick over to him, expression changing from cool blankness to concern in a second. Chay has no idea what he’s concerned about – Chay is fine. More than fine, thanks to Kim; thanks to his mate. His mate, who saw that he was hurt and protected him – his mate, who is walking towards him slowly; cautiously, something guarded in his eyes.

It's then that Chay’s knees finally give out, and he plops down onto the sofa behind him. Kim reaches him in a second, kneeling before him, hands reaching out and hovering in the space between them. Why isn’t he moving? Why isn’t he touching him? Chay frowns, glancing down at where Kim’s hands hesitate between them. At the sight of them, he gasps; the knuckles are red and cracked, tiny drops of blood escaping from cuts no doubt made when he punched the guard. The noise of his gasp makes Kim tense, and he goes to pull away, but Chay catches his hands before he can.

“P’Kim, you went too far! Why would you punch him that hard?” Chay whines indignantly, his alpha severely displeased at the sight of his mate hurt. When he looks up at Kim’s expression, it’s frozen, something like fear holding its features in place.

“Chay…” Kim starts, quiet; tense. “I had to… he hurt you, Chay, I couldn’t just do nothing.”

“I know,” Chay pouts, moving to cradle Kim’s injured hand in both of his. “But couldn’t you have done it a different way? You could’ve hit him with something – oh, surely you could get a hold of some of those brass knuckles things they have in movies. Then you wouldn’t have got hurt! And you would’ve looked really cool. Not that you didn’t already! I’m just saying – it would have been cool, and you wouldn’t have to hit him with your bare hands.”

Chay looks around. Yes, Kim went and got himself hurt, but it’s nothing he hasn’t treated before when Porsche used to fight for money. He doesn’t register the way Kim – and Kinn and Porsche, for that matter – are staring at him with matching shocked expressions, too focussed on figuring out where the first aid kit is. There must be one in here somewhere –

“P’Kinn, do you have anything for P’Kim’s hands?” He asks finally, unable to spot what he’s looking for. It’s then that Porsche breaks, snorting loudly. Kinn’s mouth twitches up into a smile seemingly involuntarily in response, mirroring his mate. Kim is still frozen.

“Here,” Kinn says after reaching below his desk and pulling out a small box. Porsche, standing between them, passes it over to Chay, and Chay offers his thanks with a sunny grin before tugging at Kim’s arm.

“Come on, up, your legs will hurt if you carry on kneeling like that,” he orders, bustling Kim onto the sofa before hesitating for only a second – and then situating himself comfortably sideways on his lap.

“Easier this way,” he mumbles, cheeks warm, fiddling with the box to get it open.

“Chay,” Kim says. Chay hums, distracted with soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic liquid.

“Chay,” Kim repeats, and something in his voice causes Chay to look up. The way Kim is looking at him is part disbelieving, part concerned, part – something else; something like fear or apprehension or maybe affection. Chay’s still working on figuring Kim out – he’s sure he’ll get better at it with time. For now, he simply picks up Kim’s hand, gentle as can be, and goes to dab his wounds with the cotton pad.

“Are you okay, P’Kim? Does it hurt? This part will hurt a little bit, but I’m sure you know that. Just endure it for me, okay?”

Chay grins, acting cute on purpose. He used to do this with Porsche after he came home covered in cuts and bruises, clutching tightly onto a thin wad of cash and a strained smile. They’d both pretend it was fine, Chay patching him up as best as he could, throwing jokes haphazardly into the space between them to avoid the sad look in Porsche’s eyes. The way Kim’s looking at him now isn’t the same, but Chay hopes to make it go away anyway.

Kim simply stares at him. “It doesn’t hurt,” he says eventually. Chay grins.

“Oh, you’re very brave,” he says proudly, poking Kim gently on the nose. Kim stares at the finger as it moves back, expression confused, as if he’s never been booped on the nose before and isn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“Hia would always whine like a baby when I patched him up,” Chay continues, just to be a little shit and hear Porsche’s affronted “hey!” from where he’s leaning against Kinn’s desk. He pokes his tongue out in response, turning his attention quickly back to Kim’s hand.

After a moment of quiet, Kim speaks.

“You’re really okay with it?” He mutters quietly, as if only intending for Chay to hear. Pausing, Chay looks up, and sees the last of the tension lingering within Kim’s eyes, as if needing permission to leave.

“With what? My mate protecting me?” Chay shoots back, tone mirroring Kim’s in volume. And just like that, the tension is gone, and Kim’s eyes are the warmest they’ve ever been. He smiles, and it makes the very breath within Chay’s lungs catch. He was always told to never look directly at the sun, but here he sits, staring it in the face, and it’s beautiful. Unable to stop himself, Chay leans forward and nudges his nose against Kim’s cheek, the gesture drenched in affection; Kim responds by nuzzling back at him, smile still in place. It makes Chay giggle quietly, full of joy, bright yellow and so eager to be seen that it pours out of him, coating both himself and Kim in sparkling gold. He thinks a little of it might belong to Kim; might have come from his mate’s own heart instead of his, but it doesn’t matter when they are so close that everything that’s his becomes Kim’s, anyway.

There’s a sniffle, from somewhere behind Kim. Chay glances up to see Porsche’s eyes looking suspiciously bright. He grins at his brother, the happiness immediately reflected back at him. Kinn has made his way from behind the desk to stand beside Porsche, hand casually resting atop his hip, and when Chay looks at him, he can’t decipher his expression. There’s something unreadable there, something that tells Chay he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing; can’t quite trust it. Well, Chay thinks – he can think whatever he wants. Chay will just keep on adoring Kim, and soon enough Kinn will see that he can be trusted.

“Now, don’t go punching anyone else any time soon,” Chay chastises, unable to keep the smile off his face as he reaches for a roll of bandages and begins carefully winding them around Kim’s hand. Kim, for his part, plays along, humming indulgently at Chay’s words and allowing himself to be fussed over. His other hand – the one Chay isn’t bandaging – is situated comfortably at Chay’s waist, arm wrapped firmly around him. It makes Chay want to do something utterly embarrassing like kick his feet and giggle and maybe hide his face in Kim’s neck while twirling a lock of hair around his finger; as it is, Chay, in an incredible feat of heroic strength, does not do that, and instead secures that bandage around Kim’s knuckles, triple checking to make sure it will stay in place. Then, for the finishing touch, he brings Kim’s hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss so soft Chay isn’t sure Kim can actually feel it through the bandage onto the strip of white cloth. He’s holding Kim’s hand as a prince would a princess, and it makes him feel a little silly, but when he looks up, Kim’s cheeks are red and his eyes are soft and Chay thinks that makes up for it.

It's at this moment that Chay’s stomach grumbles – loudly.

The food he brought for them both earlier comes to Chay’s mind, abandoned and cold on Kim’s bedside table, in favour of…

Chay unwittingly makes eye contact with Kinn. The older alpha raises his eyebrow, and Chay looks away quickly.

“Hungry?” Kim asks quietly. Chay is still holding his hand, and his other one is still resting at Chay’s waist. His thumb is slowly moving up and down, spreading warmth across Chay’s skin through the material of the hoodie, and it’s making him feel a little wobbly. He nods, grinning sheepishly – and then, not for the first time, he’s far too high up for someone whose feet are not touching the floor.

“P’Kim!” He manages, suddenly breathless, but Kim simply begins walking towards the door, Chay cradled within his arms. Groaning a little in embarrassment at being princess carried out of the room in front of his brother and his brother’s mate, he resigns himself to his fate and clings onto his own mate, sighing and resting his head on Kim’s shoulder.

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for carrying me around,” he mumbles, mostly joking, but then Kim’s ears turn red even as he resolutely looks forward, and Chay gasps delightedly. “P’Kim? Do you actually?”

“What do you want to eat?” Says Kim in reply, and Chay laughs, snuggling further into the shoulder beneath his cheek. Shamelessly, he coats it in his scent and then sniffs deeply, revelling in the combination of the most integral parts of them sitting so at home on Kim’s skin.

“Hmm…” he hums, absentmindedly tracing his fingers just beneath the collar of Kim’s t-shirt. “I don’t know, I’m not really picky. What do you –”

It’s then that they pass through a doorway from the corridor into another room, and a loud voice interrupts Chay’s words.

“Oh, finally! I thought you’d never emerge!”

Kim sighs. “Hello, brother,” he says a little warily, but Chay can feel the way his body instinctively relaxes and his scent mellows into something quiet and fond. Eager to meet another member of his mate’s pack, Chay perks up, lifting his head from Kim’s shoulder only to come face to face with the most flamboyant alpha he’s ever seen. He’s wearing what is either a strangely shaped jacket or a very large, white, fluffy bird, paired with a white shirt which would be simple enough if not for the little frills around the edges. The outfit is completed by black trousers made from some sort of shiny material Chay does not have the vocabulary to put a name to, and large black boots. The alpha stalks towards them with a haughty expression on his face, flanked by two bodyguards, and holds out his hand for Chay to shake.

“The name’s Khun – Tankhun Theerapanyakun. You must be my Kim’s little alpha,” he declares. Chay can’t help but grin happily at the way the alpha – Tankhun – casually refers to him as Kim’s, even as Chay instinctively bows his head a touch in submission. This alpha is clearly powerful, his scent a strange mix of something leafy but artificial; something bright and fresh but soured a little, conjuring an image in Chay’s head of a flower kept inside for too long.

“That’s me! Um, hello,” Chay responds, bringing together his hands to greet Tankhun politely. He feels a little bad ignoring the outstretched hand offered to him, but what can he do – he’s a polite boy, and shaking the hand of the older alpha simply doesn’t feel right to his instincts. He’s suddenly all too aware of the fact that Kim is still holding him, and despite the way his alpha whines and claws at him in protest, he tries nudging a little at the omega in a way he hopes is subtle to get him to place Chay back on his feet. Kim, for his part, looks for all the world as if he doesn’t feel a thing – Chay thinks he might have even tightened his grip.

“Really, Kim,” Tankhun is saying, having gotten over Chay leaving his hand hanging quickly, and now staring Kim down like a disappointed parent, hands firmly on his hips. “Is he an alpha or a chew toy? I raised you better than this.”

With a jolt, Chay realises what Tankhun is talking about, and a hand flies up to his neck, no doubt covered in bruises. He giggles a little manically, feeling his cheeks flush, and when he glances up at Kim his ears are red too, although his face is as impassive as ever. Chay spots his own bruise that he left on Kim’s neck, and somehow flushes even further.

“Chay is hungry,” Kim says simply, opting to ignore Tankhun’s comment, and Chay realises this was a strategic move, because the older alpha starts flapping about immediately, gesturing wildly to the two suits behind him while squawking indignantly about how he won’t have his little brother’s mate going hungry under his roof.

“P’Kim is also hungry!” Chay chimes in, his alpha insistent on making sure there is enough food for his mate. It sends Tankhun into another flurry; arms are waved, dishes are brought out onto tables in a manner so prompt that Chay struggles to comprehend it; little brothers’ cheeks are pinched, and then Chay finds himself situated firmly in the lap of his mate with a table full of food spread out in front of him.

“P’Kim,” he mumbles in protest, cheeks still red – from embarrassment or Tankhun’s affectionate grabbing, he’s not sure. In Kim’s lap, he feels utterly safe; settled and comfortable in a way he’s never felt before. It’s different to the secureness he feels with Porsche; not necessarily better or worse – just different. Cuddling with Porsche certainly doesn’t make him want to giggle and kick his feet and turn around to nuzzle deep into his neck, hands pulling him closer by the shoulder or the back of his neck.

“Look at you boys. Adorable. Disgusting,” Tankhun comments over the rim of a mug across the table, and Chay snaps back to reality. Yes, sitting in Kim’s lap might be the safest most comfortable most lovely and wonderful place in the world, but they are sitting right over from his oldest brother – an alpha who Chay really would like to gain the approval of, and he can’t exactly do that while snuggled into his omega.

“P’Kim,” Chay repeats, nudging gently at Kim’s chest. Kim studiously ignores him, picking up some food with his chopsticks and nudging it against Chay’s mouth. Automatically, Chay accepts it, feeling his stomach go warm and a little fuzzy at the way Kim watches him to make sure he finishes the mouthful and swallows. He’s looking after us, Chay’s alpha sighs dreamily, flopping over onto its back.

Abruptly, Chay shakes his head.

“I can sit by myself, P’Kim,” he says resolutely, pushing up from Kim’s lap to move to the seat beside him. At once, the arm that previously had been resting, lax, around Chay’s waist, tightens, and there’s an awful, wounded whimpering noise that sounds from behind Chay. He freezes, then turns to see Kim also utterly still, cheeks burning red.

“Sorry,” he mutters, arm loosening, gaze turned resolutely away from Chay’s.

Chay melts a little.

He realises that maybe this isn’t just about looking after Chay; maybe this is about looking after Kim, too. Maybe Kim needs this, too.

“I can stay here, actually, I think,” Chay says decidedly, settling back into Kim’s lap, shuffling around so that he’s sitting sideways. He brings a hand up to rest over Kim’s shoulder, holding onto him.

Kim avoids his eyes. “It’s fine, you can – sit wherever you want,” he says haltingly, and – well, Chay can’t have that.

“P’Kim, are you kicking me off your lap?” He says sadly, playing utterly dirty as he widens his eyes and pouts. Kim’s head snaps to Chay, expression stricken.

“What? No, of course not,” he protests, and Chay bites his lip to stop a pleased grin from taking over his face when the arm around his waist tightens once more.

“Good!” He replies, somehow snuggling closer to Kim’s body, leaning down quickly to rub his cheek against his shoulder. “Then feed me some more. Please, P’Kim? I’m hungry.”

Kim’s expression is taken over with single-minded focus as he reaches once more for the food. There are various bowls and plates spread over the surface of the table, far more variety than Chay has ever had in his life, but Kim seems used to it; he immediately goes for a dish packed with stir-fried noodles and vegetables, making sure to get something of everything and bring it to Chay carefully, dropping nothing. Chay’s mouth waters, and he parts his lips for the mouthful without hesitation, unable to stop himself from moaning in appreciation of the flavour. Not even a second later, Kim is waiting patiently with another mouthful ready, which Chay happily accepts. It goes like this, Kim watching Chay intensely to make sure he swallows everything, occasionally wiping at the corners of his mouth to get rid of any mess, until Chay’s alpha starts to whine that Kim isn’t eating anything, and Chay has to intercept the next time Kim’s hand goes reaching for the food.

“P’Kim,” Chay manages, swallowing hard to be able to get the words out before Kim protests. “Isn’t it my turn now? I wanna feed you, too.”

Kim seems to struggle, torn between wanting to continue feeding Chay, and the quite frankly deadly puppy eyes Chay is turning on him. Eventually, after a well-timed “please?” from Chay, he relents, and Chay cheers quietly before scooping up some of the first dish Kim gave him.

“Say ‘ah,’” Chay coos, holding a hand below Kim’s chin as he guides the food into his mouth. At Kim’s exasperated but quite clearly fond expression, Chay giggles, unable to stop himself from reaching out to poke Kim’s nose. Just like the first time, the omega is adorably confused, and Chay vows to boop him far more often, until he’s used to it.

It’s then that Chay happens to spot movement across the table, and is reminded of the presence of Tankhun. Now entirely comfortable about his position in Kim’s lap, Chay is far less embarrassed than he should be, but still he opens his mouth to bashfully apologise on his own and Kim’s behalf for ignoring the older alpha – but stops when he sees Tankhun’s expression. He isn’t looking at Chay, but at Kim, and his face is so different from the overly exaggerated tones of earlier that it silences Chay immediately. It’s pensive, as if he’s deep in thought, brows furrowed like he might be worried, even as his scent betrays nothing. Chay glances back at Kim, confused as to what he may be worried about. As he does, Kim quickly turns, like he had been looking at Chay. His ears are once again, red. Perplexed, Chay looks back at across the table, only to find himself meeting the older alpha’s eyes, and this time the worry is gone from Tankhun’s expression, a small, almost hopeful smile settled atop his lips. He looks at Chay as if they’re sharing a secret, except Chay isn’t quite sure what the secret is, so he just grins back, and offers Tankhun some of the stir-fried dish.

“Adorable,” Tankhun mutters, and then the pensive expression is gone and he’s waving away Chay’s offer with a strong gust of wind from the tassels on his jacket, ranting loudly about how the last time he ate onion it turned the ends of his hair green, so he’s not falling for that trick again, thank you very much.

Their meal continues. Chay feeds Kim some more bites, but it seems Kim has a limit to the amount he allows himself to be taken care of per day, and soon plucks the chopsticks out of Chay’s hand to guide more food into the younger’s mouth. Internally, Chay sighs, promising himself to remedy that. He makes up for it by plucking stray vegetables from the closest dishes and placing them quickly into Kim’s mouth while he’s speaking, grinning innocently at the (fond) glare the omega turns on him. Chay tries his best to ignore the way the chest of his alpha is rumbling contentedly, his entire body thrumming with satisfaction, at the way Kim accepts food from his hand. It’s only instinct, he knows; the way his alpha yearns to provide for Kim; keep him safe and happy and fed, always – but part of him feels a little guilty for having these feelings, knowing what he does about Kim’s views of alphas. Would Kim think of him differently, if a small part of Chay wanted to have Kim here on his lap, arm wrapped protectively around him, feeding him bite after bite? No, surely not – and it’s not as if Chay wants that more than this – himself, tucked into Kim’s chest. He’s very much content where he is, thank you very much.

“So, Chay,” Tankhun begins, snapping Chay out of his thoughts as he leans across the table. “How has my little brother been treating you? He’s been nice to you, right? My Kim can be a little prickly sometimes. Must’ve got it from Kinn.”

The older alpha turns up his nose in such a see-through display of distaste that Chay laughs; it’s clear that he absolutely adores both his brothers. Chay even thinks he senses a slight freshening to his scent, the first change he’s noted since he met Tankhun.

“Of course,” replies Chay, pausing as Kim nudges some food between his lips again. “Mm – thanks, P’Kim – he’s so nice. The nicest person I’ve ever met! Actually, no, he’s tied with my Hia. He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Oh, could I have some of that one, please, P’Kim?”

Turning to the omega, Chay notes the way his head is ducked slightly, and although his hair has fallen across his ears, Chay thinks he sees some red peeking out from behind it. Dutifully, he reaches across the table for the dish Chay requested, and Chay can’t help but hold onto his hand gently as he guides the food into his mouth. Their eyes meet, and Chay smiles, and for a moment, Kim’s expression is frozen – and then he smiles back, affection so clear in the lines of his face that Chay feels his body light up with it.

“See, Phi?” Chay says quietly, turning back to Tankhun. “Nicest person ever.”

“Oh, my. Disgusting. Absolutely sickening, the both of you. Never seen anything so –”

At this, Tankhun’s voice fails him, and he chokes on the last syllable. Wordlessly, one of the bodyguards standing behind him steps forward with a tissue, and the alpha snatches it from his hand as though it personally offended him.

“I’m not crying!” He insists, dabbing furiously at his eyes. “It’s the onion, I’m telling you! I keep telling them not to put it in – do I have to go over to the kitchens myself and have a strong word? I will, I’ll do it, Pol, don’t look at me like that –”

Chay is torn between concern and newfound affection for this alpha, a new member of his pack thanks to his mate – but a glance at Kim’s unphased expression tells him that perhaps emotional outbursts of this sort are normal. Smiling, Chay opens his mouth to let Kim know that he’s full, so perhaps they could go back to Kim’s room? Not that it hasn’t been lovely to watch Kim beat the shit out of someone before having a meal with his eldest brother, but Chay really would like to get the omega back into their nest so that they can –

Chay freezes. Kim’s eyes are shining.

“It’s the onion,” Kim says roughly when he notices Chay looking, and grabs a glass of water, draining it in a few gulps. For a moment, Chay is alarmed, but then he takes note of Kim’s scent – there’s no distress there, but it is sharp around the edges with emotion; happiness, relief, fondness – and he allows himself to relax. Kim’s avoiding his eyes, so Chay reaches out to place a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his face towards Chay. When Kim meets his eyes, a dam seems to break – or, not break; Chay thinks it would take something far worse than this to make Kim break – but cracks start to form as Kim’s bottom lip trembles almost imperceptibly.

“Oh, Kim,” Chay murmurs, thumb stroking dotingly across the omega’s cheekbone. “My mate.”

It’s clear that this is something Chay doesn’t fully understand, not yet. The way Kinn is strangely overprotective, distrusting of Chay from the start; the way Kim had said himself that he doesn’t like alphas, although Chay and his brothers seem to be exceptions; the way Tankhun looked at them so strangely, expression complicated –

The way Kim had never wanted an alpha. A mate.

Until he met Chay.

He’s sure that, later, whether hours or years, Kim will become clearer to him; the full picture of his mind will be painted, lovely and bright and so detailed that Chay will need a microscope to learn every brush stroke. For now, Chay will devote himself to painting, following Kim’s lead to uncover each new colour as his mate deems fit.

For now, all Chay can think is I am so lucky as he stands abruptly from Kim’s lap, ignoring the omega’s protesting noise in favour of reaching down to grab his hands and haul him up.

“It was so great to meet you, Phi!” He beams, inclining his head politely towards Tankhun even as he tugs Kim around the table and towards the door, Kim following quietly behind him. The grip on his hand is tight, and Chay squeezes back, saying everything he needs to without words.

It’s okay. I’ve got you. I understand.

“Yes, yes, go back to your little love nest. Gosh, two brothers finding their mates within a month. When will I get a break?”

Tankhun’s indignant muttering fades out behind them as they walk down the corridor. Kim is still quiet beside Chay, but he isn’t worried; his mate’s scent is calm; mellow. He’s relaxed. Content, if still a little emotional. Turning to him, Chay studies the way his hair, still damp from their shower earlier, curls a little at the back of his neck and across his forehead; the way his nose curves at the tip in a way Chay could only describe as cute; the way his lashes cast shadows over his eyes and his lips are –

“Chay.”

“Hm?” Chay squeaks, Kim’s teasing, if muted, smile coming into focus. The other man raises an eyebrow, and Chay bites his lip to supress a giddy smile.

“Race you back to your room,” he says suddenly, unable to tamp down on the bubbling joy fizzing beneath his skin. He darts forwards, never mind he still wouldn’t be able to find his way around this place with a map, but barely makes it five steps before he’s caught around the waist, quickly spun around, and slung over Kim’s shoulder in an imitation of what seems like hours ago but, realistically, was closer to only one.

“P’Kim!” Chay shrieks, no doubt grabbing the attention of anyone nearby, but neither of them care. Laughter spills freely from Chay’s lips, tumbling down Kim’s back as the omega responds in kind, marching them forward decisively.

“Are you ever going to let me walk anywhere by myself?”

“No,” Kim says simply, and Chay pretends the assertiveness doesn’t make his bones go weak. He sighs, letting himself be carried all the way back to Kim’s room, glad that nobody can really see his face from this position, because he’s sure his red-cheeked grin looks utterly embarrassing. As they pass through the doorway and Kim slings him down into their nest, climbing on top of him immediately and nuzzling into his neck, the only thing within Chay’s mind is his earlier thought, bright, loud, and taking over all of his senses:

I am so lucky.