Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Please! I beg of you! Spare me!”

Yoo Joonghyuk, leered down at the sniveling man, bored out of his mind from listening to such trite pleas. Tears and snot leaked from the man’s puffy red face, alcohol damaged veins spiderwebbing red across his skin. One would never know that this useless man was an alpha—and truly such a waste of space didn’t deserve to be called one. He was the kind of worthless man who boasted of and took pride in his second gender, suppressing and bullying those weaker than him for a pathetic ego high, despite being the living embodiment of the phrase ‘Better a beta than to boast’ (ie. your second gender was worthless if you didn’t have the talent to back it up). At least if one was a beta they would have an excuse for what they lacked.

As the head of the N’gai Mafia, ruler of the Red City, and the Dominant Supreme King, Yoo Joonghyuk almost never dealt with such petty things as collecting an owed debt. But the worm of a man before him had wronged and cheated a close acquaintance that supplied weapons to the N’gai Mafia, and although Joonghyuk thought his acquaintance to be an idiot for dealing with people like this (and told the man as such when he reamed him for his stupidity) he couldn’t let such a slight go unpunished if he not only wanted to preserve the pride of the N’gai Mafia and a positive relationship with the acquaintance—at least until he found a new weapons supplier.

“Shut up.” Joonghyuk commanded, the strength of his command felt by everyone in the room. “You didn’t pay what was owed and you don’t have the fucking money now. That’s it. I don’t need to hear worthless excuses.”

Joonghyuk gestured for one of his men to come forward. “Take him down to the basement. Sell every part of his body that you can.” His body would be wringed of its worth, taken apart piece by piece, until finally, even the hungry and desperate claimed his bones.

“No! No! It’s that bitch’s fault!” The man schreeched in terror, spittle flying with each scream. “Fuck Dokja! That useless slut!”

Joonghyuk immediately raised his hand, palm facing forward, a silent order to stop. The man thinking it as an opportunity to preserve his life, rambled out. “Yes yes! My nephew, Kim Dokja—I was going to sell him and get the money—the stupid bitch ran away before I could. But I’ll find him, I promise—you can even have him. He’s untouched and inexperienced but an omega like him is only good for one thing anyway.”

Joonghyuk grinned a vicious smile, his fangs on display, victory in his eyes. Finally, after years of searching, a morsel of evidence of his star’s existence in this world had serendipitously fallen into lap. His smile which chilled his men to their bone (as their boss simply did not smile), fell into an icy expression.

“Take him to the dungeon.” His men, accepting the change in orders, dragged the man towards a different door; It seemed that their boss wanted to play with this one.

Joonghyuk spent the next five days brutally torturing Kim Baekhyun, for all the cruel abuse he most likely inflicted upon his nephew, and for every vile word the man dared to utter about his star. He peeled the man apart like an orange, cauterizing each wound so that he wouldn’t bleed out while  pumping his veins full of drugs so that he wouldn’t die. Baekhyun experienced five days of hell and still Joonghuk didn’t feel like it was enough.

Joonghuk walked out of the torture room, nicknamed “The Dungeon” and nodded to his subordinates, “Clean it up. Cremate the body but keep the ashes.”

“Jeez what this guy do to piss you off so much, that you’ll even torture the man in death.” A woman obnoxiously spoke, her teeth grating against a hard lollipop in her mouth.

Joonghyuk turned his gaze towards the two woman at the end of the hall, one who was politely and patiently waiting for orders, and the other who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

He had found this world’s versions of Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah and recruited them when he was first starting out, running a street gang at the age of fifteen. Although he was young, he had been a rising bloody star, with enough momentum that the established mafias were already trying to eliminate him. He had few people he could trust—so he began searching for his past companions in the hopes that they existed in this universe.

Han Sooyoung had been an author, although it never truly made her any money, rather, the side business she ran of stealing people’s identities and then robbing them of all their wealth was what really paid the bills. Yoo Sangah, appeared like a normal calm and collected business woman working as a secratary for a small guild. In reality she was their number one assassin, The Spider was skilled at collecting information on her targets lives and then eliminating in an efficient manner that left no traces. Murdering was easy for her and she was numb to bloodshed after beginning killing at a young age. It hadn’t been her choice in life to follow this path, but with her beauty this vile world refused to leave her alone even at the tender age of seven, when she made her first kill: stabbing her pedophilic step-father in the neck with a sowing needle.

Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah became the heads of his intelligence network—which was sorely needed after all he couldn’t keep relying solely on his strength to fend off surprise assassination attempts. Dokja had taught him that lessen in their first life; pure strength could only get him so far. With Sangah and Sooyoung’s aid, assassination attempts could either be almost entirely  prevented, precautionary measure could be implemented, or counter attacks could be used to turn the tables on their enemies.

Once Joonghyuk was sure absolutely sure that the two could be trusted, he revealed to them that he was looking for someone—his mate to be exact—and that he needed their help to find them as he had never met them in this life. He vaguely explained his reasonings for wanting to mate a person he had never met as some kind of soulmate situation. They already believed him to be a blood thirsty crazy bastard (had to be to survive in this world) so while strange to hear they just chocked it up to him being mad. It didn’t matter to them whether being soulmates was true. If it was what their leader wanted then they would follow his commands.

“He hurt my mate.”

A hard crunch and pained swearing from Sooyoung followed Joonghyuk’s revelation.

“Fuck I think I chipped a tooth! Give us some warning before blurting stuff like that out you bastard! What if I choked and died?” Sooyoung berated.

“The world would be off then.” Joonghyuk brusquely jabbed.

Sangah slapped a hand over her girlfriend’s mouth before anymore obscenities could escape. “You found him?” She inquired, somewhat in disbelief. They had been searching for Joonghuk’s mate for fifteen years now—truly she thought that maybe he was fictional being that Joonghuk’s disturbed mind made up.

Joonghuk deflated a bit upon hearing her question, and then sighed deeply, stress and longing etched into his features. “Not exactly. I’ve found a hint of his existence. That worthless trash in there,”he pointed backwards over his shoulder with his thumb, “was his abusive uncle who tried to sell him into an omega brothel.”

“Ah I see.” Sangah affirmed, removing her hand from Sooyoung’s mouth, gaining a sharpness to her ever present polite smile. Sooyoung at least was perceptive enough to know when to keep her mouth shut around Sangah, and she nervously shuffled closer, entwining her hand with Sangah’s to gently rub their wrists together in a calming gesture. As a beta, Sooyoung’s scent wasn’t strong enough to be used to calm an alpha down, but assuaging actions could still be taken.

Abuse—especially of a sexual and discramatory nature—always sent Sangah into a rage, having been subjected to numerous rape attempts, more than her fair share of handsy men, and enough sexism and misogynistic comments about her status as a female alpha that if they were worth a nickle, she could afford to buy a yacht.

Sangah calmed down slightly, her mate soothing her, but it wasn’t enough to dull the fire burning in her eyes. Her form was taught with energy, eager for action. “What is your command?” She asked in a breathy voice, barely contained excitement imbued in each word.

Joonghuk grinned viciously. “Find him. Dig up everything you can about his uncle—his wife and children, his extended family, his friends and associates—even acquaintances. I want to know everything that pertains to my mate; And bring me anyone who was involved in his abuse.”

“As you command.” Sangah affirmed, bowing to her boss.

The hunt was on, and The Spider would weave her web and catch her prey.

——————————————————

Luigi’s—a banally named Italian restaurant with subpar food—was bustling with people, which had more to with its’ location as one of the only establishments near the Red Hat Slum than the quality (or accuracy) of its’ cuisine. The customers were loud and rude, although their behavior wasn’t due to them being from the slums but rather that a restraurant open late and serving cheap drinks and salty oily foods tended to attract rowdy degenerates.

Joonghyuk, from his seat in the second floor apartment that he just recently bought for the sole purpose of staking out the restaurant, clicked his tongue in distaste. He’d have to burn the establishment to the ground—but not yet. He ignored the racuos rabble, and instead focused his keen eyes on the mousy man, with disheveled brown hair obscuring his face and a servers uniform that was two sizes too big, hiding his body beneath layers of fabric.

He had finally found his star.

Dokja, kept his eyes down, and his body hunched submissively, with his slender frame and pretty face cloaked by poor style, he blended into the crowd as he moved through the room delivering beers and plates of over cooked pasta smothered in questionable sauces. People yelled epithets to grab his attention, never bothering to call his name despite the name tag on his shirt clearing reading Guwon in bright letters. Some of the customers got handsy, but they were with everyone and it never went farther as “Guwon” had zero appeal (Joonghyuk was already creating a tally of whose hands he would need to cut off for daring to touch his mate). For all intents and purposes, Guwon presented as an ordinary beta blending into the background of society—only Joonghyuk knew that he was anything but. Dokja was a god amongst mortals, a gem rarer than anything existing on the planet, cleverly hidden by an ordinary disguise.

It had taken two years to find Dokja after the day Joonghyuk ripped his uncle apart. His star had certainly used his intelligence and penchant for scheming to his advantage leaving Joonghyuk in a seemingly endless cycle of frustration for two years—not that the man had any clue about what anguish and trouble he caused (Joonghyuk would pay him back for it later). Truly Dokja’s tactical mind was a boon to his allies and a curse for his enemies. He was the only person who could stand against Joonghyuk on equal footing without ever having to lift a finger. Although Joonghyuk greatly preferred when they worked together; brain and brawn, an unstoppable duo that had torn down Gods from their thrones, and reshaped worlds.

Sooyoung and Sangah had done an excellent job tracking Dokja after he ran away from his uncle’s home when the feeble pathetic man tried to sell his only sister’s—his dead sister’s—precious child into sexual slavery. Dokja didn’t make it easy for them, traveling from city to city as a vagrant, faking his death, reappearing, and then faking his death again before once again reappearing and then completely vanishing leaving no traces. Had Joonghuk not provided them with Dokja’s info from their past lives including his commonly used pseudonyms, they probably would’ve never found him.

As the clock neared two in the morning, Joonghyuk casually shrugged on his coat and left the apartment. Dokja was already midway down the block, walking slowly, clearly exhausted after his shift. Joonghuk followed him like a shadow, close enough to act if any unsavory people attempted to harm him, but far enough that Dokja wouldn’t be able to detect him. He carefully watched as Dokja climbed the steps up to his apartment building: a dilapidated structure that by all accounts, shouldn’t have still been standing. Bars covered the entry windows, with a lone harsh flickering light doing a poor a job of chasing away the shadows of the night. The door frame, along with all the other wood trim on the building, was partially detached, askew, and held together with a desperate hope and false prayer. Dokja tugged on the door once (half  the time the lock didn’t work) before huffing at the door for personally wronging him, and grumpily punching in his code into the key pad. The number two fell to the ground as he did so.

The place was in absolute shambles, barely fit enough for the rats that gnawed on the wires in the walls.

Joonghyuk had visited Dokja’s apartment earlier in the day, when the squid had been gone, spending time at the “library”: a hovel of a home owned by an eccentric literature collector who was so well versed in the art of murder that most chose not to mess with him as the effort to steal from him wasn’t worth the effort. Dokja dedicatedly spent his free time reading there as he couldn’t afford to buy books. The apartment had been as thread bar as he thought it would be: there was single table and one uncomfortable metal chair; a pair of chopsticks and a bowl with no other cooking utensils or dishware present; and a disgusting couch with lumpy cushions that appeared to double as a bed as no other sleeping arrangements existed within the studio apartment.

Joonghyuk let out a deep suffering sigh. He really wished Dokja wasn’t so inept at taking care of himself, or at least wished that the foolish man actually had some standards for living. It was a consistent trait across universes and one that worried Joonghyuk to no end. Although, he supposes, it was a beneficial trait for him, as it made his star highly dependent on him, no longer able to survive on his own once he experienced Joonghyuk’s love and care. He’d chain the flighty man to him in whatever way he could.

Joonghyuk flicked open the cupboard to find nothing but ramyeon inside. He distastefully shut the door. There was no way Dokja was having regular heats (if any), with the way he was running his health into the ground. Joonghyuk sighed deeply again, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck, already feeling his blood pressure rising. Having seen enough, Joonghyuk moved on to what he came here to do: placing cameras all around Dokja’s apartment. Once his task was completed, he subtly scented the place, rubbing his wrists against the bare thread blanket on the couch, and along the doorway. It was light enough to not be immediately noticeable, but present enough that Dokja would realize he had been in his apartment.

And thus began their flirtation, their dalliance, a challenge of sorts, primal in nature, prey and predator, who could out smart the other. Joonghyuk would ultimately win of course but Dokja liked a challenge, although he would always claim otherwise. He insisted that he was lazy by nature preferring to lay in bed and read. But he never chose fluff or derivative trash when reading, always going for well a well built and constructed story, often full of anguish and suffering (he did read through Joonghyuk’s 1863 incarnations), that ultimately led to a happy ending.

This was a story he was constructing for his star.

A love story.

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk eagerly watched the cameras in Dokja’s home. Absolutely exhausted from work, Dokja failed to notice Joonghyuk’s scent lingering on the door frame as he entered. He stumbled inside, just barely remembering to shut and lock the door before immediately collapsing onto his couch/bed, forgoing dinner. Joonghuk clicked his tongue. Even plain ramyeon would have been better than just skipping a meal. He didn’t like how malnourished his omega looked, his face unnaturally sallow and pallid.

Dokja grabbed his blanket, pulling it over his weary body and settled onto the couch his eyes already closing, eager to sleep. But then, right before he drifted off into slumber, he performed an action he had never done before (and Joonghuk would know, after watching Dokja for weeks): he pulled the blanket up to face and snuggled against it. Joonghyuk smirked, gratified by the sight before him, thrilled that is plan was working. Consciously, Dokja was too mentally tired to recognize that the blanket had been scented, but subconsciously, his instincts recognized a comforting alpha scent that satisfied his instincts; a sign of high compatibility between an alpha and omega.

In some universes, secondary genders don’t  greatly affect people’s lives but in universes like this one, where everyone’s primal nature lurks just beneath the surface, instincts and pheromones are highly important aspects of people’s lives. Had this been a different universe Joonghyuk would have never tried such a crazy tactic to woo Kim Dokja, but he knew without a shred of doubt that Dokja—despite having yet to meet Joonghyuk in person—would love the alpha’s scent. Now the bait was set, the pleasure of Joonghyuk’s pheromones would be buried in Dokja’s mind, fueling his curiosity and cravings for more, his instincts leading him to Joonghyuk no matter how much his rational mind might try to resist.

Joonghyuk was pleased, the blood in his body singing with pleasure, fulfilled by the thought that his future mate was soothed by his pheromones. A low arousal, stoked coals ready to turn into a raging blaze, pulsed within him. He couldn’t wait to physically touch his star, to drown his omega in his scent, until he was as intoxicated by the alpha’s pheromones and just as enraptured with Joonghyuk, as the alpha was with him. He wanted to world to know Dokja was his.

He watched Dokja through the night, unable to take his eyes off his star; it had taken so long to finally find him again. Regaining his memories at a young age was both a curse and a blessing: it gave him an earlier start on locating Dokja, but simultaneously, he was painfully aware of the piece of his soul that was missing that only his companion could fill.

It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that Dokja awoke, having slept through his alarm. Joonghyuk watched as the omega’s eyelids began to flutter, sluggishly at first and then snapping open, as his brain was abruptly brought to full alertness upon realizing that an alpha’s scent saturated his blanket. Startled, Dokja launched himself off the couch, stumbling as he briefly panicked, frantically looking around his apartment, trying to identify if the source of the scent was still present.

Upon realizing that no alpha was in the room, the initial panic faded, and Dokja calmed down. Joonghyuk could see the gears in Dokja’s mind turning, thinking, contemplating, planning . He scented the air and approached the entry door, leaning in close to catch a whiff of the mysterious alpha’s scent (mysterious was Joonghyuk’s choice of word, Dokja’s would most likely be  ‘crazy bastard’—an insult now perceived by Joonghyuk as an affectionate nickname, much to Dokja’s appalled chagrin).

Joonghyuk let out a deep rumble nearly moaning, for try as he might, his star could not hide his physical reaction to his scent. The pupils of Dokja’s starry eyes became black holes consuming the night sky, his mouth opened slightly, attempting to taste the scent, a full body shudder wracked his body, and without a doubt, the expression on his face—one that Joonghyuk knew exceedingly well—was that of arousal. But if anything, Dokja was extremely stubborn, and whatever emotions that were roused within him were shoved away; he was always good—frustratingly so—at compartmentalizing his emotions. Thankfully, without the fourth wall the foolish man was not as adept at keeping his emotions in check. Dokja tore himself away from the wall, shaking off the stupor he had fallen into, and began to hunt around his apartment, his keen mind ascertaining that a scent wasn’t all that the mysterious alpha left.

He found the first camera hidden within the lone lamp in the room. Easy to find, and very much purposefully placed—he wanted Dokja to know he was watching. Hours past and finally Dokja had discovered twelve of the twenty cameras that Joonghuk had placed within the apartment.

Panting from exhaustion (an enticing sight for Joonghuk) Dokja leered down at the cameras before him, his eyes darkening, a storm of thoughts swirling in his head.

“Well you’re not someone my uncle hired; They wouldn’t have bothered using such tactics. So that leaves the question, why some alpha would come into my home and do this?”Dokja questioned, both speaking to whoever was on the other side of the cameras and thinking out loud. “The scenting the door and blanket . . . you wanted me to know your scent . . . Is this some fucked attempt at courting and staking a claim?” He sneered. “You crazy fucking bastard, that’s what this is, isn’t it?”

There was no one to answer him, but he seemed confident in his deduction. He stared directly into the cameras as he challenged Joonghyuk directly: “Whatever it is you want from me—you won’t get it, you sick bastard.” However unbeknownst to himself—but clearly visible to Joonghyuk—was the primal excitement burning his starry eyes.

The chase was one.

Dokja smashed the cameras he had found underfoot, before packing a small backpack filled with what meager belongings he had before leaving out the door. He didn’t even bother to the lock it, planning to never return.

Dokja was good at running. Aliases, fake documents, safe houses, and intricate travel plans, he excelled at becoming a ghost within society, but unfortunately for him, Joonghyuk’s intelligence team was better. It also helped that Joonghyuk knew all of Dokja’s tricks. Wherever Dokja went, Joonghyuk followed, dogging him, forcing the omega into desperate circumstances before ultimately cornering him.

Dokja patiently waited in a booth at a non-descript coffee shop, a dime a dozen on this side of town. He looked worn down and weary, but most of all, he looked angry: enraged at being pinned down and ultimately forced to give up the freedom he fought to obtain after escaping his aunt and uncle.

A polished young woman walked in the door, pretty with a disarming smile, she approached Dokja with measured steps. She bowed slightly, overly respectful as she kept her eyes to the ground, and greeted him.

“Good afternoon Sir.”

Dokja rolled his eyes, letting go of the normal pretense of hiding his true emotions. He found the treatment condescending especially since he was more or less being forced into something against his will.

“My name is Yoo Sangah, and I will be escorting you today.”

Joonghuk watched the entire interaction from the numerous cameras placed around the coffee shop. He swirled a glass of wine in his hand, gingerly and tenderly running the pads of his fingers along a few scant words on a plain white sheet of paper written in Dokja’s script.

Lets meet.

—————————-

Dokja was brought to The Compound—a massive complex of buildings that composed the living and business quarters of the N’Gai Mafia—and was treated with the utmost courtesy, having been offered various drinks and snacks and a chance to rest prior to his meeting Joonghyuk. The charade was confounding for the omega, as he had been expecting a much a rougher welcome.

They treated him as if he were the boss.

Which was just as Joonghuk ordered.

Joonghuk’s gaze remained intensely focused on his omega as he walked into the greeting room, watching as his omega kept his gaze downward in some attempt at false demure weakness. Joonghuk sat upon a large throne like chair, flanked by Heewon and Hyunsung, the two guards getting a first look at the man who would be their new master.

It was hard to hide the pleased satisfaction he felt at finally having Dokja within his grasp. A proud smirk graced his handsome features. Dokja glanced up for the first time, his starry eyes finally meeting Joonghuk’s obsidian black and Joonghyuk could tell from the minute furrow of Dokja’s brow and his slightly pursed lips that he was annoyed by Joonghyuk’s confident demeanor.

Although Dokja was acting the part of a pitiful and demure omega—he was anything but. His eyes flickered around the room, taking in as many details as he could, no doubt forming multiple plans to try and weasel out of this situation. Of course there would be no escape—Joonghyuk had made sure of that.

Dokja’s escorts fell back as Dokja approached Joonghyuk alone.

“Welcome.” Joonghyuk greeted in a tone that gave nothing away much to Dokja’s annoyance.

“I don’t appreciate being kidnapped.”

“You can hardly call it kidnapping when you came willingly.” Joonghyuk quipped, waving around the letter Dokja wrote asking them to meet.

“I can if my willingness was coerced.”

Joonghyuk gave a self-satisfied grin, knowing just how far to the edge the omega had been pushed.

“Why am I here?” Dokja immediately inquired clearly in no mood for a verbal dance.

“You know why.”

Dokja scoffed, all pretense of weakness vanishing—it would do no good here. “You’re seriously trying to court me?”

“Of course.” Joonghyuk affirmed as if such a thing was a given natural law of the world—and in a way it was. They were destined to be drawn to each other in every lifetime, as they were life and death companions made for one another.

Dokja brazenly met Joonghyuk’s gaze, all willful stubbornness, a trait that Joonghyuk was an expert and eliciting from the calculative man. “I don’t know what you think you see in me, but I can assure you it’s not there. Especially—“ Dokja looked Joonghyuk up and down, “for someone of your caliber.” He finished, wrapping up praise in thick condescension.

“And why do you think I wouldn’t desire you?” Joonghyuk threw back in a teasing manner.

Dokja’s mood soured further but having no other options he decided to play Joonghyuk’s game. “For one, I’m poor and work crappy service jobs to get by. I have no talent, experience, or wealth to match you, the true ruler of our fair city. Second,” he began glancing around the room, his eyes landing on Seolwha and Sangah, “as much as don’t like to admit it, my looks are subpar. Third, I’ve never had a heat—even if your ignore everything else, I don’t even have use to satisfy your base needs— can’t even offer you pups. I’m useless to you on all counts of my existence.”

Joonghyuk frowned deeply, annoyed pheromones smelling of burned pine leaking into the room. He cursed Dokja’s aunt and uncle for taking such poor care of him, but he was also angry at Dokja for not taking care of himself. He was thin enough that his bones uncomfortably protruded, his skin a sickly pallid color, and his hair and lips a lackluster shade. Truly Dokja always knew how to piss Joonghyuk off. How poor was his health be to have never had a heat?

Dokja appeared smug, seeming to think that  the cause of the alpha’s disgruntled scent was due to being dissuaded against his pursuit by the omega’s many flaws.

“That can easily be remedied. Under my care, I’ll ensure your health, and all your wants and needs will be met.” Joonghuk resolutely assured, watching as Dokja’s confident smugness burned away leaving only frustration.

“I don’t want your care!” Dokja seethed.

“Well that’s not an option.”

“You—“ Dokja growled in frustration, “does my opinion not matter? Your obsession makes no sense!? Why the hell do you even want me?”

“It’s because we’re destined mates. I knew from the moment I saw you that you are my soulmate.” Joonghuk stated in a blithe reticent manner, as if it were obvious.

Dokja gaped at Joonghyuk, utterly flabbergasted while Joonghyuk’s men struggled to not externally cringe at their boss’s cheesy words.

“There’s no such thing.” Dokja finally responded after being rendered momentarily speechless.

“There is.” Joonghyuk affirmed.

“There isn’t.” Dokja argued back.

“There most definitely is. I know, because I fell in love with you at first sight.”

Dokja scoffed. “Fine, you seem to believe that bullshit, and have ostensibly fallen in love me, but seeing as I haven’t instantly become enamored with you, what on earth would ever compel me to fall in love with you?”

Joonghyuk smirked, oozing confidence and sex appeal. “Well for one, I’m incredibly handsome like a novel protagonist; I’m a great cook; incredibly caring; a dominant alpha; and I can love you and provide for you better than anyone else can.”

“That’s all?” Dokja jeered. “I’ll never fall in love with you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. Without ever realizing it, Dokja had predictably restisted Joonghuk’s love and easily enabled the alpha’s plan. “Is that so? Care to make a bet then?”

Joonghyuk didn’t even bother to hide his obvious pleasure as Dokja warily inquired. “What kind of bet?”

“If in one year you don’t fall in love with me, then I’ll let you go—I’ll even send you off with enough wealth that you won’t ever have to work at grubby restaurants ever again.”

“What are the rules?” Dokja asked, overly cautious, not willing to agree until he had heard the full proposition. It was adorable how he was trying to pick apart Joonghyuk’s words, looking for any loopholes or tricks.

“For one year you will live here with me. I promise not to harm you or touch you without permission. You will be safe here. But neither can you avoid me—you have to actually let me court you. And if asked about your feelings, you can’t lie. If I feel that that you are doing so then I am free to command you to answer.”

Dokja mulled over Joonghuk’s proposition for a long moment before finally agreeing, as the only the option was to be trapped here with no chance of a way out.

“Deal.”

—————————-

With a gesture of his hand, Dokja—along with Heewon and Hyunsung— followed Joonghyuk out of the “Throne Room”nicknamed a such by Sooyoung. Joonghyuk purposefully walked next to Dokja as they travelled through the compound, making a point to all of his subordinates—who usually walked behind him—that his omega was his equal. For how much Dokja bolstered himself when confronting Joonghyuk, under the watchful eyes of the many inhabitants of the compound, he shrank in on himself, his eyes darting back and forth, his instincts flighty with so many alphas around. Still, the fact that Dokja wasn’t on the ground quivering, overwhelmed by the oppressing density of alpha pheromones in the air showed just how he strong he was.

In order to protect himself over the course of his tumultuous life, Dokja had pretended to cower, to fake submission, but he never gave into the mentality instead choosing to resist: like when he ran away from his abusive uncle; when he faked his death and built a new life for himself; and when he acted as a beta just to survive. Joonghyuk would teach him to stand tall, so that he would never again have to use the pretense of weakness to survive. He woud turn Dokja into someone vicious, someone brutal, a dominant omega. He would show Dokja that he was meant to rule. That he was a god wearing human skin. He’d show him that the only alpha he should ever submit to was Joonghyuk.

They walked through the hall in silence; Dokja was certainly in no mood to converse. Joonghyuk knew that annoyed sour look on his companions face quite well—it was better to give him space when he was like this and leave him to ruminate and process his own thoughts.

Joonghyuk led them to a sitting room, one of his favorite nooks that overlooked the gardens he had carefully curated. He had designed The Compound with features he knew his mate would like—nature and all its beautiful comforts were hard to come by in this dystopian world after all.

There, he sat down on one of the plush leather couches across from Dokja. He watched his omega as the slight man cutely assessed the sitting room, glancing at the ornate wood shelves, the plush couches and  miscellaneous books scattered about.

“I would like to show you around our home,” Dokja glared at him slightly when he referred to The Compound as ‘our home’, “But first, you should eat something. After all you didn’t have anything for breakfast.” Joonghyuk lightly teased, amused by his omega’s annoyed expression as he understood the only reason Joonghyuk knew he hadn’t had anything to eat today was because the alpha had been watching him through cameras.

Dokja was about to retort that he wasn’t hungry for the sake of just being obstinate but as soon as he saw the delectable pastries set before him, his will wavered. Reluctantly, he grabbed a warm buttery pastry stuffed with sausage and began to eat, but not before glaring at Joonghyuk, non-verbally implying that the alpha should keep his mouth shut. He practically gulped down the pastry, truly trying his best to not show how pleased he was with the flavor.  Joonghyuk’s felt immense satisfaction watching his omega heat, the instinctive need to care for his omega, especially with him being in such poor health, was temporarily assuaged.

For someone who was “kidnapped”, Dokja was more calm and accepting of things than a person would normally be. There was some fear mixed into his scent and he was overly alert but otherwise he was mostly composed. This was because as much as Dokja liked to put up a front and act like he was enraged at the situation, he was actually genuinely assessing Joonghyuk’s pontential as a mate. And this wasn’t just Joonghyuk’s delusion. He had discovered in his extensive (and a bit excessive) background check of Dokja, that he preferred to read adventure stories that all had one thing in common: a strong and willful muscular black hair protagonist i.e Joonghyuk. Dokja had been unconsciously seeking him out. His starry eyes followed Joonghyuk with intensity, a spark of attraction in his eyes.

Additionally, in a world where omega’s had very little rights and with the majority of people living in some degree of instability, Joonghyuk was a very eligible mate, having both power and wealth to protect and support his chosen omega. The only thing left for Dokja to ascertain was whether Joonghyuk’s individual character was reputable enough to consider as a mate. He no doubt wanted to avoid the trap his mother fell into by marrying an ostensibly kind man who turned out to be drunken monster that eventually killed them both in alcoholic rage fueled crash or ending up with someone like his uncle who while capable of providing for his family (minus Dokja) was such a insecure and pathetic man, that his family constantly had to pander to and submit to his whims.

Joonghyuk waved his hand and Heewon and Hyunsung stepped forward.

“These two—Heewon and Hyunsung—will be your personal guards. Additionally, if you need anything and I am not there, they can acquire it for you.”

Both guards politely bowed before Dokja. “It will be an honor serving you.” Both paying obeisance to their new master.

Dokja was flustered, not used to be treated with such deference, especially by two alphas.

Hyunsung had been an honorable soldier—too honorable for this world. He had naively believed in the government of the Demonic City (a territory adjacent to Joonghyuk’s) and their righteous claims to root out corruption never realizing that the government was part of the mire. The government had managed to thoroughly piss off the ruling warlord and used Hyunsung has a scapegoat to take the blame of their misdeeds. Utterly disgraced, with his faith in humanity broken, Hyunsung barely escaped with his life, ending up a broken man living in the slums of the Red City.

It had been simply by chance that Joonghyuk had found him. He had been conducting business in the area and upon leaving the building, he noticed the shadow of his old companion in the worn and malnourished face of the beggar on the street. Hyunsung was despatate for a purpose, for someone to need him, for someone he could follow, and Joonghyuk appeared before him at his most desperate time and offered him salvation.

Heewon had been a local bartender, tough and always ready for a fight. Her sense of justice was just as strong as ever, however she was virtually powerless against the lawless and cruel forces of the world. Realizing this, she chose Joonghyuk as a necessary evil. She approached him almost unwittingly, willingly taking a risky chance to offer him a proposition after meeting Sangah and Sooyoung while bartending. She offered him her strength and prowess in combat in return for his support in striking down those she viewed as unjust. Had it been anyone else, at best he would’ve had them kicked out, and at worst had them dismembered and thrown in the river. But because it was Heewon, he agreed, although with the stipulation that once his mate was found, she would become one of his mate’s loyal guards.

———————

Joonghyuk took Dokja to his private wing of The Compound, to show him where he would be living.

He placed a key card on a scanner situated at the entrance and then placed his thumb on a different scanner in order to unlock the first set of doors. The doors slid open to reveal a second set of doors which Joonghyuk pulled out a physical key to open.

“This is our private residence. You and I are the only two people that will have access to this part of the building.“

“A bit paranoid, don’t you think?” Dokja commented, running a hand along the scanner as he passed through the doorway.

“No more than you.” Joonghuk mused.

And Dokja couldn’t refute that, not when he had gone to such extreme lengths to fake his death and hide his identity.

He showed Dokja various rooms: the dining room, guest room, Joonghyuk’s office, the kitchen, and his and Dokja’s rooms.

Joonghyuk gestured toward two ornate doors sitting opposite of each other in the hallway. “This your bedroom,” he informed, pointing to the door on his right, “directly across from mine. It’s fully stocked with plenty of blankets for nesting and if you wish to customize the room then Heewon and Hyunsung can procure what you need.”

“Why is my room right across from yours?” Dokja bristled, not liking being so close to the unfamiliar alpha, wary of his intentions.

“Don’t worry, you’re the only one that has access to the room. You can create a code on this key pad here and no one—not even me—will be able to enter without your permission.”

“But—“ Dokja began to protest before he was cut off by Joonghyuk.

“I can’t bare to be too far from you. Not having you near me where I can protect you makes me anxious. So please allow me this.”

Joonghyuk’s word were so sincere and anguished, that Dokja relented. “Fine. Even though I highly doubt any danger could befall me here.”

You’d be surprised, thought Joonghyuk. His star’s penchant of attracting trouble caused Joonghyuk endless stress, and even after fifteen lifetimes, he still had nightmares of Dokja deaths in their first life, and the horror he felt upon realizing that upon his final death,  Dokja wouldn’t be miraculously resurrecting.  It made it hard for him to control his smothering affection and his desire to just lock Dokja up in each life time. In this life, Dokja had no idea that he was the sole cause of all of Joonghyuk’s anxiety and fear.

Finally, Joonghyuk took the omega to see the room he was most excited to show off, one that Joonghyuk had built with Kim Dokja in mind.

The double doors to the room were made of a deep amber oak, with intricately carved grooves, cuts, and lines depicting various fairytales.

“Open the doors.” Joonghyuk politely requested.

Dokja gave him a suspicious look but obliged.

Joonghyuk softly smiled, as he watched Dokja’s eyes light up in excitement upon seeing a massive two-story library filled to the brim with books; with shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling accessible by various stairs, ladders, and walkways; and so many bookshelves throughout the room that they created a maze leading to little nooks to hide and read. A warm scent, reminiscent of sweet flowers upon a spring breeze, frolicked through the air, alighting Joonghuk’s senses.

His omega was extremely happy.

“You . . .” Dokja began before trailing off. For once, he was speechless.

Dokja was so enraptured that he didn’t even protest when Joonghyuk placed his hand on his lithe waist and guided him into the room.

“This is my first courting gift to you.” Joonghyuk softly whispered into his ear, enjoying the flush of red adorning his mate’s cheeks.

Dokja gave him a weak glare. He was undeniably, incredibly happy, but felt the need to protest a bit given that he assumed that Joonghyuk knew about his love of books from spying on him. However with his joy and excitement, the slight disgruntlement he felt, passed.

“Feel free to spend the rest of the day in here,” Joonghyuk said knowingly. Dokja could barely contain his desire to explore the library. “You can join me for dinner later.”

With that, Joonghyuk left Dokja to explore and read to his heart’s content for the rest of the day until evening rolled around.

————————

When Dokja entered the kitchen, he had been expecting a fully cooked meal, but instead found Joonghyuk by the counter with various ingredients scattered about. He voiced his confusion. “I thought I was joining you for dinner? Why did you call me if it wasn’t ready?”

Joonghyuk let out a small nearly imperceptible laugh, reading between the lines of Dokja’s words: ‘why’d you call me away from reading if there was no food?’

Joonghyuk smiled at him lovingly and gestured for Dokja to take a seat in one of the chairs situated along the island counter located in the center of the kitchen. “I thought we could converse and get to know each other while I cook for you.”

“You cook? Don’t you have chefs for that? Also you seem to know plenty about me already.”

“For the other inhabitants yes, there are chefs, but I prefer to cook my own meals and as well as those of my mate.”

“Not your mate.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.” Dokja protested.

Joonghyuk let out a fond but extremely exasperated sigh, relenting as he knew he could never win a bickering argument with Kim Dokja, instead changing the subject.

“I’m actually quite good at cooking so try not to look concerned. As for your question earlier, there’s only so much I can gleam from cameras and words. I want to know you and your inner thoughts.”

“So it’s not enough that you creepily stalked my every move but now you want to dissect my mind?”

“If you must put it that way—then yes.”

The awkwardness and tension of the day melted a way as they continued to converse falling into easy banter and stimulating deep conversations all while Joonghyuk expertly chopped vegetables and meat, and prepped fresh dumpling dough.

Joonghyuk had finally reached the filling and folding stage of making dumplings. He carefully spooned the correct mixture of minced pork and veggies into a small circle of dough, and then expertly crimped the edges. Dokja’s eyes followed every movements of Joonghyuk’s hands, taking note of the many scars and deftness with which the muscles moved in their work. Dokja had relaxed enough that his scent was lightly wafting through the room mixing pleasantly with Joonghyuk’s own. A slight hint of arousal tinged the omega’s scent and Joonghyuk found himself having to hold back any salacious comments he wanted to make less he ruin the mood. He could always tease his star later, about his very much sexual kink regarding Joonghyuk’s hands and what they could do to him.

Bursts of memories, passed through Joonghyuk’s mind: his hands on Dokja’s lithe waist, his grip bruising as he thrusts his cock into the man below him, feeling every shudder that wracked his beloved’s body as he writhed in pleasure; his hand on Dokja’s neck, lightly pressing down, enough to hold power over the smaller man but not enough to hurt as he watched, captivated, as each inch of his cock slowing inched inside his mewling star (he’s pretty sure that day he held Dokja over the bridge in their first life is what awakened that particular kink). Softer memories joined the indecent ones: his hands resting on Dokja swollen belly, pregnant with their pup; his arms wrapped his lover as they relaxed in bed; his hands gently combing through his star’s soft hair; one hand tilting Dokja’s chin up to obtain a sweet kiss.

Just as lost in thought as Joonghyuk, and still staring intensely at the alpha’s hands, Dokja unmindfully mumbled out, “You really do look like a protagonist.”

The comment brought a small warm smile to  Joonghyuk’s face but it immediately dropped at Dokja’s next remark.

“Too bad you’re villain.”

There was a jesting smile on his omega’s face, grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. However the despite appearing to be a trivial comment, Dokja’s words were double edged, belying a deeper meaning other than that of a passing remark. He was trying to get a rise out of Joonghyuk for fun—his favorite past time in past lives being breaking Joonghyuk’s taciturn demenor—as well as appraise and gain a greater understanding of Joonghyuk’s character. He was looking at Joonghyuk with the eyes of a reader, causing shivers of excitement to run down Joonghyuk’s spine, as he stood before the weighty gaze of a being with the soul of a god.

“Is that what you see me as?” He breathily inquired, his eyes smoldering.

“Well you are a mafia warlord: crime, violence, and corruption are your standards.” Dokja neither denied nor confirmed his opinion of Joonghyuk as a person.

Joonghyuk hummed thoughtfully. “Well that is true, and if you just look at that it would appear that I’m quite villainous. But if you look at the context: a ruined world where if you don’t fight to survive you die, a world where you must struggle to eak out a living, a world where you must gain power in order to protect what you care about, then I would say I’m just a person who rose to power out of necessity.”

“True, but you’ve hoarded wealth and power and with it you’ve done nothing to alleviate the city’s suffering. Unlike that—shit what was his name? Oh yes, like that other warlord, the ruler of Nirvana, who’s become a hero to the people there. They say he’s created a paradise. By comparison, if they’re a hero wouldn’t this make you a villain.”

Joonghyuk scowled, his knife chopping hard through a stalk of scallions, nearly imbedding itself into the wood cutting board.

“First off, that person is more akin to a snake in a garden than a hero. And even then, people who desire paradise are never content with anything they’re provided and yet they never lift a hand to change things instead choosing to be dependent on what you provide. Those sorts of people are fickle. If anything should go wrong, then the hero gets blamed as if all the good they done is negated by one single plight. Then sacrifices have to be made, and the hero will make them, because that’s what a hero does, they sacrifice themselves and even their loved ones for the greater good.”

“My mother used to tell me stories about a man who was neither a hero nor a a villain.”

Joonghyuk partly lied, using his mother a false origin, in order to tell Dokja their story, the story of life and death companions. “He only tried to protect those he cared about and give them a happy end after enduring many trials and tribulations. He refused to sacrifice anyone, only himself.”Dokja was utterly captivated, leaning forward in his chair, eager to here more of the story. “But that is a story for another time.” Joonghyuk finished, placing a bowl of fresh dumplings along with various side dishes in front of the omega.

“That seems like a weird story to tell to a child.” Dokja pouted at being denied a scintillating tale.

“Perhaps, but it’s what made me the man I am today.”

“Tell me more later.” Dokja petulantly demanded.

“I will.” Joonghyuk promised, just as eager to relay their story to this Kim Dokja, as the omega was to hear it.

Joonghyuk eagerly watched as Dokja turned his attention towards the food before him, gingerly grabbing a steaming dumpling with his chopsticks and taking a bite, his teeth breaking into the juicy flesh, flavor bursting on his tongue. Dokja nearly moaned.

“Well, how does it taste?” Joonghyuk inquired with the self-assured confidence of a man who knows his cooking is the best in the world.

“It’s delicious.” Dokja begrudgingly admited, even though it’s actually the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Later that evening, Joonghyuk wished Dokja goodnight and even though he couldn’t watch Dokja as he slept anymore— as he promised not to put cameras in Dokja’s private room—he finally felt content now that his companion was back within his grasp.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Joonghyuk let Dokja settle. He was free to wander around their private wing but would have to wait to explore the rest of the compound (not that the omega particularly wanted to explore, especially not with such a grand library available to occupy his time).

In passing, as Joonghyuk bid him farewell for the day, off to conduct business that Dokja was not yet privy to, Dokja often remarked, with an insincere farewell wave of his hand, “Yes, yes, have a good day, my dear captor,” condescension and sarcasm dripping from his tone, “Your prisoner will await your return.”

“At least it’s a gilded cage.” Joonghyuk would quip back.

They shared meals when possible, and despite Dokja’s reluctance, his stubborness was no match for Joonghyuk’s superior cooking ability. It was hard to return to plain ramyeon and barely edible food after having a taste of the divine.

After a week passed, Joonghyuk finally took Dokja out to show him The Compound. The moment they left the doors of their residence, Heewon and Hyunsung fell in behind them, two stone faced guards that almost seemed unessecary when a man like Joonghyuk was present.

“The compound is arranged in a series of concentric squares, with the first inner square being our private residence; the second being the residences and living quarters for members of the inner circle; the third being where all our daily operations are conducted—including accounting, HR, intelligence, health etc; with the outermost square consisting of the living quarters of all other on site personal, various docking and loading bays, and other miscellaneous services.” Joonghuk explained. The Compound was in a sense, its own city within a city.

“I see.” Dokja intoned before making an astute observation: “So the outer ring is essentially a shield, composed of none essential infrastructure and sacrificial personnel.”

“Correct.”

Dokja’s expression was contemplative but not perturbed by the logic. He understood its necessity. This world didn’t take kindly to strongly upheld morals and magnanimity. The world viscerally shredded such things like wood in a chipper, and anyone unlucky enough to get their appendages caught in the vice of its teeth would meet the same fate.

From there they traversed The Compound, passing through various rooms, offices, loading docks, warehouses, and training halls. It took a few hours and by the end of it, Dokja was panting due to the exertion.

Joonghuk had shown him such superfluous spaces around The Compound, that he could only come to one conclusion: “You jerk—you just wanted me to exercise.”

“It’s good for your health. I did assure you when we made our deal that under my care, all your wants and needs would be met—and exercise is a need.” Jooghyuk, explained, tacking on a comment at the end to get ahead of the acerbic quip that was about leave the omega’s mouth about ‘not wanting this’.

Dokja was a sight to behold, sweating and panting, flushed such a pretty red. Coils of arousal writhed through Joonghuk’s body—fuck he wanted to just pin his star up against the wall and fuck him right then and there. Dokja would look so pretty taking his knot for the first time, so pretty bitched and bred, belly round with a growing pup—but Joonghyuk was getting ahead of himself. His omega’s health needed to improve, until his body was finally well enough to have heats again, and even then, he would still need to build up his stamina if he was going to be able to keep up with Joonghyuk in bed. And—as his reprehensible uncle had said, and Sangah’s intelligence findings had indicated—Dokja had never been sexually involved with anyone.  Joonghuk would need to take things slow, love and worship his mate, fuck him maddeningly gently until he was begging to be taken roughly. He planned to have Dokja so accustomed to taking his cock, and craving to be fucked everyday, that he would be able to pin him up against a wall and fuck him any time he wished.

He gazed at his star, eyes deep emersive oceans of obsidian, smoldering, as his pheromones intensified into a deep smokey chocolate, and with a sultry voice (practically dripping with the implications of arousal) blithely said, “This is also for my benefit, you are—“ his eyes raked up and down Dokja’s face and body, “—a wonderful sight to see so worked up.”

Dokja, inexperienced as he was, and weak to Joonghyuk’s face and voice, turned as red as the tomatoes he so deeply hated, while also appearing stricken, torn between the new and unfamiliar arousal burning through him (evident in his scent) and his slowly failing desire to resist the alpha’s charms and escape his grasp at the end of the year.

“Shut up.” Dokja managed to stutter out, glowering at Joonghyuk.

Joonghyuk, obliged, content with the outcome of his teasing.

Hyunsung and Heewon had retreated as far as they could without their masters leaving their sight, pointedly and awkwardly looking anywhere but the alpha and omega couple.

Joonghyuk took Dokja to The Compound’s garden: a massive arboretum containing lush trees, their leaves making a rustling song in the breeze, and bountiful flowers and shrubs decked out in full blooms. The garden was a sight to behold. A majority of the trees were small, most appearing no older than ten years old. Some of the faster growing varieties were large enough to provided shade but they weren’t grand giants by any means. The exception, was a massive oak at the center of the garden, its long limbs and foliage blooming out into a wide reaching cloud, with some of its arms, laden down by their own weight as they grew over time, curving low enough to the ground that they could be sat upon. The tree had been there long before The Compound, a last bastion against an increasingly urbanized and hostile landscape.

Here, in the great tree’s shade, a comfortable metal table set with various pastries and coffee awaited Joonghyuk and Dokja.

It had taken awhile to arrive, as Dokja wandered towards whatever plants caught his eye, curious about their names, their purpose, and whatever knowledge he could gleam from them, his earlier exhaustion vanishing, having never experienced such a rich natural world. Joonghyuk indulged his every whim, patience in abundance, as he simply enjoyed spending time with his star. After realizing an hour had passed, Dokja looked at Joonghyuk abashed, at having dragged the very busy and brusque alpha all around the garden. Joonghyuk smiled indulgently, and continued asking Dokja questions, hoping that Dokja would continue his awestruck wandering about the flora.

In his ealier lives, Joonghyuk—taciturn, combative, and awkward man that he was (his own self admission about his bad personality that Kim Dokja for some reason seemed to love)—had trouble putting words to emotions he felt. Often staring endlessly or poorly attempting to express his emotions with a look (that Dokja thankfully was usually able to read) he had now learned slighter better, after centuries of experience, how to covey his own emotions.

Staring at Dokja in the garden, the slight man, pretty and dazzling in a way that was only visible to Joonghyuk’s eyes, thought that the man was ethereal, a fae being brought to life from the cosmos (something that wasn’t too far off from reality). He imagined the two of them walking along the stars, translucent and iridescent veils of moonlight on theirs heads, covering their faces in an enigmatic fashion, before sliding them off each other, the diaphanous fabric dancing down their skin, their lips meeting in a sweet kiss, eternal, immortal, lives forever bound, never to be parted again.

It was a sweet dream, and one Joonghyuk would make a reality, no matter how long it would take to gather all the fragments of his companion’s soul.

“What’s all this?” Dokja inquired about the table situated under the oak tree.

Joonghyuk softly smiled. “Our second date.”

“Second date? When was the first?”

“Our dinner the other night or do you not count me painstakingly cooking you dinner from scratch while offering engaging conversation, a date?”

Dokja sat down in the chair across from Joonghyuk. “I’d hardly call it pain staking, when you enjoy doing it—especially for me.” He grabbed the nearest pastry, a knowing look in his eye. Joonghyuk never told him that he was the one that made the pastries both for this date and on the first day of Dokja’s arrival.

Joonghyuk flashed a charming smile, highlighting his handsome face. “Glad to know you enjoy my cooking, and hopefully myself included.”

Dokja had been about to tease him back or make some playfully sarcastic comment but recoiled slightly, instead choosing to stuff a bite of sweet butter pastry into his mouth, his mood slightly souring. He clearly didn’t know how to handle Joonghyuk flirting with him—or rather, it was the comfortableness he felt in Joonghyuk’s presence, the way the flirtatious comments made him feel, wanted, desired, loved— the way being with Joonghyuk just felt easy and right and natural . Here was an alpha who stalked him for months, and kidnapped him (more or less), and yet, in the short span of a week, his anomosity towards the alpha had precipitously declined. Joonghyuk could tell that his omega was torn between the beautiful dream that was Joonghyuk and waiting for the other shoe to drop and the darkness and cruelty he had become accustomed towards to unveil itself.

Aware of his mate’s turmoil, Joonghuk steered their conversation topic towards the easy and mundane, allowing the omega to process his thoughts while still allowing them to bond with each other. Joonghyuk chivalrously escorted Dokja back to their residence, ending their second date.

Chapter Text

Whenever Joonghyuk had to leave The Compound to conduct business, he encouraged Dokja to get to know his closest subordinates within his inner circle, namely, Yoo Sangah, Han Sooyoung, Jung Heewon, Lee Hyunsung, Lee Seolwha, and ideally no one else. While he valued and carefully selected the people that were directly part of the N’Gai Mafia, he didn’t trust them—especially not with his mate.

Too much was at stake.

Everyone in his inner circle relayed every single detail of their encounters with Dokja to Joonghuk: Yoo Sangah was always polite and honest in her descriptions; Han Sooyoung was petulant and condescending and often information had to be troublesomely pried from her like picking up a two pack of spilled toothpicks off the floor; Hyunsung was always awkward about relaying such information but due to his stint in the army, his reports were always very thorough; Jung Heewon’s reports were always blunt and too the point and often it was a waste of time to ask questions about more minute details as she frankly, never noticed such things.

Dokja had to be coaxed out of the library—after avoiding every human being that wasn’t Joonghyuk for weeks—but eventually he gave in to Joonghyuk’s nagging and first approached Yoo Sangah.

Yoo Sangah situated herself close to the entrance of Joonghyuk’s and Dokja’s private residence, nestled in a quiet sitting room drinking coffee, just as she had been ordered to do. Joonghyuk was very aware of how wary Dokja was being in such a new environment, which drove him to avoid human interaction as much as possible. This was exacerbated by his already introverted nature and unlimited access to the largest collection of books he had ever encountered.

Dokja inched into the room where Sangah sat, loitering by the door, taking in details and assessing the alpha before him. Sangah exuded a calm scent. It was surprisingly floral, which was unique for an alpha as they normallly had stronger more robust scents.

“Hello sir.” She warmly greeted.

Dokj had looked torn on whether to just retreat back to the library or finally get to know the people Joonghyuk had personally selected to be a part of his inner circle. He mulled over his thoughts for a moment before deciding to fullheartedly embrace the endeavor before him.

With a polite charming smile, a mask donned to hide his true persona (perfectly honed from years of working dead-end service jobs) Dokja approached the sitting woman. “Good morning, Sangah.”

Sangah’s eyes twinkled with mirth, having found a kindred spirit. They spoke about mundane things, often uttering banal phrases, as if they were bored overworked

Businessmen chatting around a water cooler. It almost became a game to them to see just how long the conversation could go on for while never mentioning personal details or delving into deeper conversation.

Finally, after an hour, Sangah let out a charming laugh. “You’re not quite what I expected.”

“Neither are you.” Dokja retaliated, offering her a genuine smile.

Sangah hummed in response before inquiring, “Would you like to grab a drink?”

“It’s nine in the morning?” Dokja questioned incredulously.

“I know, but I’ve been awake all night working for your—“

“Don’t say mate.”

“—your possible future significant other.” She transitioned. Dokja gestured with his hand that he would allow it. “And quite frankly, I want liquor—and a lot of it.”

Dokja thought about it for a moment and then replied: “Yah you know what, let’s drink!” No doubt the tumultuous time leading up to his “kidnapping” ignited a desire for some strong libations, ones he couldn’t normally afford.

Sangah led him down a hallway lined with shining black marble, although the walls were noticably all painted black and mostly bare of decoration except for a few sparse  potted plants.

“As you can see,” Sangah began gesturing around, “Our leader doesn’t have a penchant for design; he’s quite utilitarian in this regard, not wanting to spend money on such non-essential things—“ She gave Dokja a very pointed look implying that he was essential given the extraordinary effort the alpha had made when designing their private residence. “—though Sooyoung—my mate—and Heewon have begged him to let them change things.”

Dokja let out an airy laugh at that, finding amusement in Joonghyuk’s monochrome taste. “It suits him.” His voice sounded a bit too fond when he commented, which Sangah took note of. “Where are we going to get drinks?”

“As you know this area is only accessible to the inner circle, you, and Joonghyuk. We had a bar installed once the N’Gai Mafia grew in power. It wasn’t safe to go out for casual drinks anymore; too many people want us dead.”

Dokja reflected on the few bars he had worked at as a waiter, and the numerous bullet holes littering the rooms. As he had been inexperienced, he had been put on the day shift where only professional drunks and malingerers hung about, and therefore luckily avoided the constant nighttime murders.

They soon approached a non-descript door reminiscent of various bars and speakeasies littered about the city. There was even a performative stool out front for a security guard to sit upon.

Sangah winked at Dokja playfully when she found him staring at the door and stool. “Have to make it feel real right?”

Inside, existed a full scale bar complete with booths and counter barstools. It was upscale with a polished oak bar top, and dazzaling array of fantastical shaped bottles filled with various shades of clear, brown—and occasionally rarer colors like purple and green—liquids. The tables were decorated with lace table cloths and the booths contained pristine glossy leather. The dingy bars Dokja had worked in couldn’t even begin to compare.

“What will be your drink of choice?” Sangah inquired, going behind the bar and gesturing towards the vast selection of alcohol.

“I don’t know actually,” Dokja said in an unsure voice. At twenty-one years old Dokja had never had a sip of alcohol. Drinking age wasn’t really a thing anymore—not when the governments and mafia warlords had other more pertinent problems to worry about—but he had chosen to abstain from the drinking; not for any moral reasons, but because lowered inhibitions and an inebriated mind would be dangerous for an omega masquerading as a beta which required uninhibited intelligence and skill.

Sangah smiled softly at him, a knowing look in her eye. She understood. “Alright then, let’s start off with something easy: how about a beer?”

Two glasses were poured, the light amber liquid bubbling slightly with a layer of foam on top.

“Cheers!” Sangah sang, as she lifted her glass and clinked it against Dokja’s own. She took a sip of her beer and keenly watched the omega’s face, laughing as he made a perturbed expression.

“This tastes gross.” He hissed, but then he took another sip, a thoughtful expression forming on his face. “Actually, it tastes kind of refreshing?” After that, Dokja eagerly finished his glass and Sangah poured him another one.

“So Sangah, what kind of work do you do for Joonghyuk?”

Sangah grinned enigmatically. “I’m the head of intelligence branch of the N’Gai mafia.”

Dokja lifted an eyebrow, sensing that there was more to it than just that. “That’s not all is it?”

“Guess!” Sangah playfully insisted, her cheeks already turning red from the alcohol burning through her system.

Dokja assessed her, looking her up and down from head to toe. Despite the long night, she was perfectly polished and for an alpha her demeanor was calm and composed—almost unassuming—and her scent wasn’t domineering in anyway, almost fading into the background. No scars were present on her hands and yet there were calluses and muscles present that would indicate more than just office work.

“Assassin.”

“Right on the mark. Joonghuk is right, you’re very smart.” The last of her words beginning to slur together.

The blush on Dokja’s cheeks wasn’t just from the alcohol, he seemed to enjoy hearing that Joonghyuk thought highly of him.

Sangah, didn’t comment on it, but she knew that the omega wasn’t being honest with himself: his gaze followed Joonghyuk around since he first arrived. Sure, he liked to evaluate his surroundings and the people in them, but in the end, his attention always turned back towards the alpha. The attraction and curiosity were there, the rest would come as they got to know each other. She was certain that the omega would fall just as madly in love with Joonghyuk as Joonghyuk was with him.

————————————————-

Joonghyuk’s phone blared through the room right as he was in the middle of an important meeting with his ally Uriel—whose city controlled the nearest ocean ports that delt with vast amounts of imported goods. They had been discussing the payment and distribution of their goods before the interruption. He had his phone silenced for any calls not from his inner circle and right now Han Sooyoung’s number under the name ‘That Bitch’ was displaying on his phone screen.

Joonghuk sent Uriel a look and she nodded for him to take the call.

“Sooyoung this better—“

“You need to come get your mate.” Sooyoung abruptly interrupted and demanded, stress tinging her voice. A cacophony of noise could be heard in the background.

Worry and fear instantly flooded through Joonghyuk’s veins. Had something happened to Dokja? He was in the inner part of The Compound—he should be safe!

Uriel covered her nose as Joonghyuk’s pheromones raged through the room. All lesser alphas and betas collapsed to floor under the weight of his influence.

“Is he okay!?” Joonghyuk harshly demanded needing to know if his omega was alright.

“He’s . . .fine.” Han Sooyoung hesitated. Joonghyuk growled not liking the pause. “Listen, here’s the thing—your mate and my mate managed to get absolutely wasted at eleven in the fucking morning. They’re both belligerent.”

Joonghyuk’s shoulders sagged in relief but then he tilted his head up and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, feeling his blood pressure rise.

“I’m heading back now.”

Joonghyuk clicked the phone off and turned towards Uriel, whose eyes were positively twinkling.

“Is that your—“ She began before Joonghyuk’s sharp glare cut her off. She realized she shouldn’t speak about such matters in front of people who weren’t explicitly trustworthy. Still, her expression was mirthful with a wide grin that she was doing a terrible job of trying to school into a serious expression. She was obsessed with love and destined mates, a topic Joonghyuk had reluctantly discussed with her in detail (in order to win her allyship) and just like past lives, she was utterly obsessed with Joonghyuk and his companion’s romantic companionship.

She hurriedly waved him away, telling him she’d handle the transactions and send him a missive once it was done.

—————————————-

Sangah and Dokja aren’t allowed to drink alone together, and it’s not for the reason most people think. When they drink together, a collision of the their worst impulses and behavior occurs, amplifying their stupidity. They just get crazy, which is further compounded by their close friendship (and work trauma bond) they share in many lifetimes. If they drink with others—or even if someone is just passed out next to them—they’re able to hold on to their sensibilities and be responsible. But on their own, they just egg each other on.

Their drunken escapades often lead to absurd outcomes, like taking a red eye flight to Japan, going on a midnight hike, or spending large amounts of money on expensive chocolates—or that one time they came home with an incredibly rare pet fish that neither of them could remember acquiring. It was such an important fish that it made the news and Joonghyuk and Souyoung quietly bought a fish tank (after Dokja and Sangah vehemently vetoed the option of killing it) and hid it in the storage room in Joonghuk and Dokja’s apartment.

They were somehow never caught, and the damn thing lived ten years under Dokja’s adoring care. He named it Biyoo because the fish was pure white and had large flowing wispy fins.

Joonghyuk found the door to the bar room barred by Heewon and Hyunsung; if Sangah had wanted to get out Sooyoung wasn’t strong enough to stop her. Upon entering he found Sooyoung tied up with a curtain, hating life, while their idiot mates reveled and danced, with various concoctions of alcohols spread across the bar counter, the mixes emulating a child’s pretend play attempt at making potions by mixing random food ingredients together.

Dokja turned towards the door upon hearing it open, and lit up with a bright drunken grin upon seeing Joonghyuk.

“Joonghyuk-ah!” Dokja greeted and enthusiastically—and fuck if that sweet smile didn’t make Joonghyuk’s heart skip a beat and his cock twitch.

Dokja threw himself into Joonghyuk’s arms giggling all the while. His pheromones were being emitted freely, a sweet spring scent, akin to syrupy honey suckles, wafting on the air. Joonghuk caught the omega, and not one to waste an opportunity, wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

“Hi.” Dokja giggled, gazing up at Joonghuk with hazy eyes.

“Hi.” Joonghuk returned softly, raising a hand to stroke Dokja’s cheek.

“I’m drunk!” Dokja exclaimed

Amused, Joonghyuk responded, “I can see that.” Smiling down at his minx of a mate.

Dokja giggled more upon see Joonghyuk smile, and then he buried his face into Joonghyuk’s chest, inhaling his alpha musk. “You smell good.”

And that was enough of that.

Lest Dokja break every ounce of self-control Joonghyuk had.

“It’s time for bed.” Jooghyuk stated, despite it being almost noon.  And with that, he picked Dokja up and threw him over his shoulder as Dokja playfully whined and cried that he didn’t want to go. The alpha placed a hand on Dokja’s ass to steady him (and that was the only reason, he wasn’t breaking the rules of their bet, it was necessary and definitely not an excuse to feel up his omega’s ass).

Sangah made a move to block his path, the wild woman looking ready to fight. “Wait boss’ we just getting started!” Her words heavily slurred.

“Sooyoung.” Joonghyuk gestured with his hand. Taking the hint, the beta hobbled over and blocked her mate as best she could while still tied up in the curtain. The hilarious sight was enough to distract Sangah and Joonghyuk hurriedly left with a kicking and whining mate in tow.

Dokja made all kind of pleas, but Joonghyuk refused to relent as he carried his omega down the corridor to their private residence. He wouldn’t be able to get into Dokja’s room, so he took him to the guest room and plopped the omega onto the bed. The alcohol was in full effect now, and Dokja clumsily fell back against the pillows. Joonghyuk took off Dokja’s shoes, but didn’t touch his clothes less Dokja accuse him of impropriety.

“The world ish spinny . . .” Dokja muttered, eyes hazy.

“I bet.” Joonghyuk’s affirmed. He went and acquired pain killers, electrolyte powder, and a glass of water. He set them on the bedside table, knowing Dokja was going to need them when he woke up.

Dokja’s eyelids were already drooping, the soporific effects of too much alcohol taking hold.

Joonghyuk murmured. “Go to sleep.” Gently placing his hand over Dokja’s eyes, forcing them to close, listening as his breaths evened out.

Joonghyuk remained by his mate’s side, anxious about potential alcohol poisoning but Dokja thankfully slept with no issues emerging. Once he was sure that Dokja was fine, he went to the kitchen and began preparing hangover soup. Normally when making any kind of soup he liked to make the broth by hand and then let it simmer all day but he wouldn’t have enough time for that as it was two in the afternoon and he expected that Dokja would awaken sometime in the evening. A few hours would be fine.

He minded the broth over the next few hours, periodically checking on Dokja who was sleeping like a rock. Once the time neared six in the evening, he began to prep the seasonings, sauces, radish, cabbage, and hearty beef chunks. He seared the beef chunks before adding them to the boiling pot and then reduced it back down to a simmer to allow the beef to become tender. Towards the end of the cooking process he added the cabbage and radish, adding bean sprouts towards the end of the cooking process so the delicate vegetable would still retain its crunch. Once it was done he poured the thick rich soup into a bowl and headed towards the guest room where Dokja’s distant groans could be heard.

Joonghyuk didn’t bother knocking on the guest room door as such rhythmic pounding would have most likely aggravated Dokja’s headache. He entered and found Dokja in a distressed tangle of sheets, his face buried in his pillow, wallowing. Upon Joonghyuk’s entrance, he weakly turned over, his face haggard and somewhat green. He winced, the light coming in from the hallway too bright.

“What day is it?”

“Still the same day.”

And with that Dokja let out a helpless moan and reburied his face into the pillows, oozing a distressed sickly scent. “I feel terrible.” His words faint and muffled by the fabric.

“Of course you do—you drunk way past your limits. You and Sangah emptied a significant portion of the bar.” Of course not all of it was consumed, much of it left in glasses during Dokja’s and Sangah’s potion making attempts.

Dokja made a comment, but it was too muffled for Joonghyuk to hear. “What was that?” His voice a soft whisper, discreetly emitting calming pheromones in an attempt to soothe his omega.

Dokja turned his head to face Joonghyuk. “I didn’t know it would be like that. I’ve never had a drink before.”

Joonghuk, paused rather surprised, but he supposed, Dokja was young and assumed (correctly) that his omega hadn’t touched any alcohol or other mind altering substances for safety reasons. Joonghyuk was incredibly pleased with the news. It meant—whether Dokja would admit it or not—that the omega had felt safe enough to willingly enter an inebriated state. His star truly was falling fast: safety, security, and care an addicting drug for someone so deprived of stability and love. Joonghuk was more than happy to be an addiction, to keep Dokja craving more and more, until desiring Joonghyuk became an obsessive need.

Fall further, madly, deeply, I want to be your entire world

One day, his mate would be ready to accept his all consuming possessive love; but he still wasn’t ready yet.

Staring at his adorable omega, languishing in the consequences of his own actions, he felt compelled to lay a comforting kiss on the omega’s forehead, however he held himself back, knowing that such an action wouldn’t be well recieved. Instead, he grabbed the bowl of hangover soup he had set down and offered it to Dokja.

The hungover man looked ready to vomit at the sight.

“Trust me—you’ll feel better once you eat.” Joonghyuk encouraged.

Dokja gave Joonghyuk a look that clearly expressed his doubts, but Joonghyuk was right, as after the first few bites, he demolished the bowl.

Joonghuk was gathering up the bowl and cutlery, when he was startled by his omega’s wobbly attempts in getting up from the opposite side of the bed from Joonghyuk. He had made one large attempt to stand before falling back, lightly bouncing on the bed, and then leaning over, head between his legs, clutching his temples.

“What are you doing?” Joonghuk curiously inquired.”

“Going to bed.” He gritted out, as if Joonghyuk was the one lacking sense.

Joonghyuk poignantly pointed out, “You’re already in bed.”

Dokja huffed. “ My bed.”

It appeared that his omega was already staking claims on things, creating personal space and belongings, despite asserting that he would be leaving once the year was up.

“And you expect to walk there?” Joonghyuk walked around the bed and crossed his arms, raising an implying eyebrow.

“Yes.” Dokja affirmed stubbornly. He made another attempt, failing once again, his world spinning and head pounding.

“Let me carry you.” Joonghyuk offered. He was a bit saddened by the grimace he immediately received.

“No—it’s fine. It’s just down the hallway.”

“Dokja.”

“Joonghyuk.”

“Stop being stubborn. All you’re going to end up doing is tripping and puking on the floor due to having the first and worst hangover of your life. So either stay here, or let me carry you.”

Dokja sighed dramatically, but ultimately, relented, allowing the alpha to pick him up. He was disgruntled but also surreptitiously snuggled closer against Joonghyuk’s chest. Once in front of the door, Dokja requested that Joonghyuk close his eyes, not wanting the alpha to see the key code. Joonghyuk eagerly obeyed, his curiosity thirsting to be sated, wondering what Dokja had done to his room in the month he’d been living here.

The door slid open, and the lights turned on, and Joonghuk was greeted by a room that felt like his mate’s home, more than that decrepit apartment he had been living in. The massive bed was filled with plush blankets and pillows, hesitantly arranged around the bed as if Dokja wasn’t quite sure how to arrange a nest. It was cute. Books were scattered around the room, on chairs, the desk, and even in the bed.

Joonghyuk was quite enthused by the sight.

Dokja missed his expression as the omega shyly, and purposely, avoided Joonghyuk’s gaze. Unlike the many previous times Joonghyuk had entered the omega’s space, this was the first time he had explicit permission to do so; a sign of trust between an alpha and omega, or at the very least a sign that Dokja didn’t dislike Joonghyuk more than the desire to not have to walk to his room. Joonghuk gingerly set his star down on the bed, casually running his fingers along Dokja’s nape, tossling his hair. He delighted in the shivers that ran across Dokja’s skin. With a susurrant whisper, Joonghyuk commented: “You made a beautiful nest.”

Dokja flushed red, the vibrant scarlet color extending down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to Joonghuk, scandalized. It was considered impolite for anyone other than a mate or intended mate to comment on an omega’s nest. Doing so implied a close bond, doing so implied seduction, doing so implied love and trust.

Joonghuk left the room before Dokja could chuck a pillow at him.

Chapter Text

Following Kim Dokja’s chaotic libations with Yoo Sangah, he felt more confident in venturing out to meet the rest of Joonghyuk’s inner circle. The next person Joonghyuk assigned to approach Dokja was Han Sooyoung, who the omega briefly met but doesn’t remember due to being heavily inebriated when he interacted with her.

Prior to their meeting, Joonghyuk strategically placed Sooyoung’s novels around the library in places that he knew would catch Dokja’s eyes. Subsequently, he got to listen to Dokja’s rants about the terrible writing: its’ god awful pandering to current trends; how it was utterly derivative of better works; and how the story wasted good characters and world building.

Truly, most people would have given up reading a story they vehemently disliked or found boring. But Dokja wasn’t most people: he found value in such stories and the vast potential they carried. He adored tales that most people couldn’t stand, finding interest in all aspects of the characters—even their mundane lives. That interest and love he held for each story he read (regardless of whether they were bad or good) is how he managed to read through the 1863 lives the original Joonghyuk had lived through.

Joonghyuk’s life was created solely for Dokja and vice versa.

Reader and protagonist.

Made for each other.

Their first world confirmed that.

In their first life, they found out at the end of their story—or what was supposed to be the end—that the world was dreamt into being by one god: a small boy originally known as Kim Dokja who became the The Omniscient Dreamer.

The Omniscient Dreamer was originally a young boy who lived in another universe. After suffering cruel abuse by his father, betrayal by his mother, and continuous abuse throughout his life, he threw himself off the tallest building in his school and died. In Omniscient Dreamer’s universe, Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World, did not exist as a continuous story throughout his childhood into adulthood. Rather, Joonghyuk, and his stories of survival, were just dark fairytales his mother told him to help them survive each cruel day trapped in a house with violent drunken man. Stories that ended when his father was murdered and his mother was thrown in jail. Without Joonghyuk’s story to sustain him, he had no will to live.

However, Omniscient Dreamer’s soul was an aberrant existence. An error in the world.

A singularity.

Omniscient Dreamer died, but his soul did not move on to the afterlife, instead, no longer tethered to his world, he drifted between universes, in the vast primordial abyss that contained the raw materials needed to created worlds. In that vast eternity, he began to dream. His dreams began small, just a tiny flicker of life before exploding in a kaleidoscope of imagination, creating Joonghyuk’s first world with Omniscient Dreamer as its God. However it was a never ending dream, a world unintentionally designed to function perpetually—a fact Omniscient Dreamer only realized after 1863 regressions. He was distraught upon understanding that he was essentially torturing Joonghyuk and that if he kept dreaming then Joonghyuk’s hell would never end.

Although he was the god of the world, he had unconsciously built it in such a way that left him as an observer, unable to directly interact with and end the world himself. And  Joonghyuk—despite being the protagonist of the world—was unable to traverse the fourth wall and end the world, due to being a foundational element of the story that sustained the worlds’s existence.

So instead, the Omniscient Dreamer dreamt of a way for the world to end:

Kim Dokja

He was a copy of Omniscient Dreamer incarnated into the story. He was supposed to be apart of the true 1864th round but the 1863rd Joonghyuk took an unexpected action and instead of regressing chose to  become the outer god known as Secretive Plotter. Due to this, the story had to be reset to a previous round. But due to 1863 becoming an outer god, almost all of the data of the previous rounds was corrupted. Omniscient Dreamer chose the third round from the few uncorrupted rounds to reset the world to as it had the most likely chance of success.

In this world, unlike Omniscient Dreamer’s original world, Joonghyuk’s story existed as a book for Dokja to read and help him survive. No one but Dokja made it past fifty chapters; the story was convoluted and full of mundanity— a story only Dokja could love.

Dokja, as a version of Omniscient Dreamer incarnated into the story, was able to traverse the 4th wall which broke the perpetual story in the same way that a 4th wall break in a play breaks the audience’s emersion, making the story no longer seems real.

The world that was built as a story, could no longer exist. Omniscient Dreamer’s end had finally come, however he wasn’t sad: he was ready to move on, whether that be to an after life or into the abyss.

However, as Dokja was a version of Omniscient Dreamer, Dokja’s soul was also a singularity, and he sacrificed his power and himself to sustain the world Omniscient Dreamer had created to prevent its destruction. His power of world creation became the world’s core, an energy source—that while finite due to not being the world’s original creator— could last for billions of years.

However as he was not the true original creator of the world, he was not tied to the world like Omniscient Dreamer. For Omniscient Dreamer, he sustained the world and the world sustained him. For Dokja the continuing existence of the world could not sustain him and the strain of forcibly tying his power to the world fractured his soul.

The fragments of his soul drifted into the abyss before entering other worlds.

Dokja found Han Sooyoung in the communal kitchen, a book on the table, laptop out, fingers moving fast across its keyboard. She glanced up at him, dragging her eyes up and down. She shattered the lollipop in her mouth, chewing the crushed candy as she remarked. “So you’re Kim Dokja?”

Unimpressed, and somewhat condescending, her tone rubbed Dokja the wrong way. He felt an innate need to fight with her. He’d match petty with petty.

“Han Sooyoung I presume? I really thought Sangah’s mate would be . . .” His words trailed off, leaving the implication for Sooyoung to interpret.

She glowered at him, muttering bastard under her breath, but surprisingly didn’t refute him. “Trust me I know.”

Well at least she was aware that Sangah was out of her league.

She typed another few words on her keyboard before addressing him again. “Looks like we’re in the same boat.”

It was unwanted comradarie. Dokja swallowed thickly, doubts creeping in, fully aware of Joonghyuk’s prestige and his own lacking presence (at least in his mind).

(After watching the cameras later, Joonghyuk absolutely reamed Sooyoung for her comment, knowing quite intimately how Dokja had a tendency to lowly evaluate his own self worth and doubt himself while putting Joonghuk on a pedestal. Dokja’s habit of putting distance between them, with Joonghyuk as the protagonist and him as a reader was something Joonghyuk was trying to break.)

Not wanting to linger on the subject and potentially dive deeper into emotions he didn’t want to name, Dokja swiftly changed the subject.

“I hope you’re writing something better than that drivel.” He remarked, gesturing towards the book on the table.

Whatever nonchalance Sooyoung had been trying to radiate, vanished, replaced by energy matching the true internet gremlin she was. She jolted up, slamming the lid of her poor abused laptop, before dramatically placing her foot on the table in some kind of dramatic captain pose that she thought was intimidating (but actually came off cringe). “Drivel!? How dare you! I wrote that master piece!”

“ You wrote that trash!?” Dokja exclaimed.

Their argument devolved into an intense and  scathing debate. Dokja called her a hack author with wasted story and character potential, while she called him a reader with no taste who didn’t understand what people wanted in a book. More names and insults were thrown around before somehow both Dokja and Sooyoung were sitting in front of her computer debating and constructing a new narrative direction for her current book. They spent hours there, losing track of time.

Oblivious to their surroundings, neither of them noticed Joonghyuk who had been standing in the doorway watching his mate.

“Fucking Christ!” Sooyoung screeched upon realizing her boss was there.

Dokja glanced up at Joonghyuk and then at the clock on the wall. His jaw dropped. “It’s already six!”

“That it is.” Joonghyuk walked over to Dokja, ruffling the omega’s hair and lightly scenting him. It was an action Dokja had just begun to allow—albeit, sparingly. The omega never requested it or even addressed the action, but nonetheless, he enjoyed it, immediately relaxing whenever Joonghuk rubbed the scent glands on his wrists against him. “I even had time to finish making dinner.”

Joonghyuk looked pointedly at his mate. “Did you two even remember to eat today?”

Both Sooyoung and Dokja refused to meet Joonghyuk’s eyes. Dokja, because he knew how much the alpha strangely valued his health, and Sooyoung, because she knew she would be held responsible for not taking care of Joonghyuk’s mate.

Joonghyuk sighed deeply. “I’ll have to get Sangah to make sure you two eat and take breaks when you’re together.” Joonghyuk chastised.

Sooyoung was scandalized. “There’s no need to bring Sangah into this. We’re perfectly cable of—“

“Perfectly cable of?”

Sooyoung screeched, having not heard Sangah enter the room. Sangah placed a heavy hand on her quarrelsome mate’s shoulder and Sooyoung’s bravado wilted like lettuce in summer heat.

“I’ll make sure to check on them, sir.”

“Thank you Sangah.”

As Joonghyuk and Dokja were leaving the room, Sooyoung called out. “Hey Dokja, be my editor!”

“Sure.” Dokja agreed. “Someone needs to fix those plot holes of yours.”Dokja snickered, ignoring Sooyoung’s indignant squawks as he left the room.

———————-

Dokja’s and Joonghyuk’s evening was spent watching a movie. Dokja was curled up on one side of the couch, cozied up with a blanket and a bowl of kettle corn after he had requested something salty and sweet for dessert. Dokja was adapting fast to be taken care of and Joonghyuk was enjoying spoiling him. He was becoming reliant on the alpha. The movie was action fantasy, one that Dokja had been wanting to see for a long time; it had a black haired handsome protagonist. Dokja was somehow still oblivious to the fact that the protagonists in the movies and books that he liked the most were all similar to the alpha sitting next to him on the other side of the couch.

All throughout the movie Dokja kept sneaking glances him. Whenever their eyes met, Joonghyuk could see a deep longing in Dokja’s gaze. A want, a craving, a need. The cozy domestic evening had lowered his gaurded inhibitions and it was clear the omega’s instincts were seeking Joonghyuk out. He wanted to be touched, to be held by another, after he had been deprived of love and connection for so long. But alas, he wasn’t ready to admit his wants and ask Joonghyuk to cuddle with him.

Joonghyuk’s patience would have to hold out another day.

————————————

“He’s scrawny.”

“Heewon!”

“You should learn to fight and put on some muscle.”

“Heewon!”

Heewon stood in a large training room, appraising Joonghyuk’s mate. Next to her, Hyunsung stood nervously fretting—surprisingly unimposing for such a large alpha—stressed out about Heewon’s comments about their boss’s mate. It was their first real interaction beyond just being bodyguards.

“Well it’s true!” Heewon exclaimed.

In the same way that some people are awkward around children when they don’t know how to interact with them, Heewon very much did not understand how to interact with those she perceived as weaker than herself beyond treating them in a gentle damsel-in-distress manner. She had some forethought to realize it would come off as condescending when confronting someone who was technically her boss.

Ignoring Hyunsung’s fretting, in a commanding voice she said. “Let’s spar.”

Hyunsung gasped, scandalized by her blatant lack of dutiful respect towards someone of higher rank. He very much resembled an old lady clutching her pearls. “Heewon we can’t—what if he gets hurt?” He was rightfully worried, Heewon wasn’t known for her gentle mercy when it came to fighting and everyone in the inner circle was extremely aware of how much Joonghyuk cared for his mate. Any harm to him could result in them losing their heads.

“Sure let’s spar.” Dokja readily agreed much to Hyunsung’s horror.

Dokja had learned some self-defense in order to survive, however his scrappy hand to hand combat was designed for escape and not to take down an opponent. He got his ass handed to him by Heewon. She filtered through different fighting styles trying to find one that Dokja could handle but his weak body wasn’t really adept at any style.

“Well that’s not good. You need to be able to protect yourself if you want to be Joonghyuk’s mate.”

The words sounded insulting and antagonistic but Dokja understood that she said those words out of concern: being the mate of a mafia boss entailed danger, danger that even with the most comprehensive of safety measures and guards, couldn’t always be averted.

Heewon hummed to herself, contemplating how to proceed. “Let’s try weapons.”

Hyunsung gazed pointedly at her from the corner of the room where he had been relegated to after his behavior got on Heewon’s last nerves. ‘He’s an omega not a child—babying him is insulting’, she had reprimanded.

His eyes silently begged her not to push any further, and she purposefully ignored him.

Dokja was actually eager to try out some weapons as various fight scenes in fantasy books played out in his mind. Spears were too long for him, throwing off his balance and leaving him unable to guard when Heewon closed in. Nunchucks were awkward and he didn’t care for them. A bat worked in a pinch but he lacked enough force to actually bludgeon someone. He found daggers light and easy to use and was swift enough that he could deal quick damage against someone.

But where he really shined was with a sword.

Joonghyuk enjoyed using swords even though they were antiquated in comparison to modern guns. Heewon could see something click in Dokja’s mind the moment he picked up a sword. The way he flicked his wrist and moved his arm, balancing the weapon—it looked natural, as if he had been using one for years.

Joonghyuk watched Dokja through cameras as he fought Heewon. It was nostalgic watching his companion fight, fondly remembering all of the battles he picked with Dokja, some petty and others more serious. Still, no matter how many times they fought with each other, when they fought side by side they were a nearly unstoppable team. Having Dokja battle against the world by his side was both comforting and intoxicating. He could trust that Dokja was strong enough to not hold him back while also covering him against any attacking enemies.

He had gotten so use to looking back and finding Dokja there beside him, that when he vanished, death grasping his companion in its cold hand, Joonghyuk’s will to live faltered. Dokja had shouldered a part of the burden of saving the world for so long that Joonghyuk had forgotten the weight of it—the heaviness nearly crushing him without his companion’s support.

He needed his companion.

——————————-

Dokja returned to the training hall a few times a week, steadily making progress in hand to hand combat and strength training. Inbetween bouts, he got to know Heewon and Hyunsung more personably.

“So you two are mates?” He inquired after observing their behavior.

Both Heewon and Hyunsung confirmed his inquiry.

Heewon scratched the side of her facing, looking a bit abashed. “I know it’s a bit weird right. Two alphas together . . .”

It was unusual. The desire for dominance and opposing pheromones often kept alphas from having intimate relationships with each other.  Additionally, in many cultures such relationships were frowned upon.

However—

“No it’s not weird,” Dokja comforted. He gave them a warm smile. “It suits you two.”

Normally two strong alphas would butt heads but instead Heewon’s and Hyunsung’s personalities balanced each other out and upheld their bond. Where Heewon was flexible, Hyunsung was rigid, where Hyunsung was cautious Heewon was daring. Heewon was unyielding individual when it came to upholding her own moral code, refusing to abide by injustices she perceived, so she often went to extremes when dealing with such people— like when she burned down the mansion of a well know philanthropist who behind closed doors was known for omega trafficking. The man deserved the brutal death of being burned alive with the embodiment of his ill gotten fortune but unfortunately, the fire unintendedly spread to surrounding buildings risking the lives of innocents. Hyunsung like wise defended people from injustice but often found himself betrayed and led astray by those in power, having found himself in multiple abusive situations that involved an imbalance of power especially when it came to superior-subordinate relationships stemming back to his father who treated him more like a soldier than a son. Together, they balanced each others faults, Hyunsung tempering Heewon’s zealous extremes, and Heewon providing truth and resolve when it came to seeing past hierarchy, and artful masks.

Even their scents complimented each other: Heewon smelled like a smokey flame that was a touch electric; while Hyunsung smelled metallic and earthy. Fire and Metal.

————————————-

Joonghyuk entered the training hall, eyes immediately locating his omega sitting on one of the benches lining the walls, a book in hand. He had been patiently waiting for Joonghyuk’s arrival as the alpha had mysteriously asked them to meet here and for no-one else to be present. Joonghyuk smiled when the omega wrinkled his nose, catching a whiff of Joonghyuk’s pheromones, breaking his immersion in the story he was reading. His pretty eyes located the alpha and darted to the long narrow nondescript box in the alpha’s hands.

He sauntered towards Joonghyuk with a playful taunt in his step. He had that certain look in his expression that implied that he wanted to annoy the alpha and get under his skin. After a tough training session the previous day he had been planning to lounge in bed but Joonghyuk had unceremoniously (and rudely) interrupted his plans by calling him to the training hall. Petty annoyance would be his revenge.

Too bad for Dokja, Joonghyuk was in too excited of a mood to engage.

Before Dokja could speak a taunting word, Joonghyuk announced: “I have a gift for you.”

“This box?” Dokja inquired.

“Yes, a courting gift.”

Unlike regular gifts that could be passed to the receiver unceremoniously, a courting gift required formal acceptance. Formally giving a courting gift demonstrated that it wasn’t simply a gift given to show interest like one would to a secret admirer or crush, which while hopeful, had no right to any expectation that the feelings would be returned. The formal acceptance of a courting gift meant that the recipient was just as engaged in the courtship as the bestower. It meant that the receiver returned the giver’s feelings to some degree.

The library, in a sense, hadn’t been a formal  courting gift as Joonghyuk had not formally requested Dokja’s acceptance; mainly because Dokja’s feelings at the time were no deeper than interest, and the omega would have refused the gift out of principle.  Joonghyuk did not want to deprive his star of his favorite past time (especially when it would endear Joonghyuk to him).

There was tension in the air, a momentous moment before them, as for the first time this would either be an honest admission of Dokja’s romatic feelings or a refusal showing that Joonghyuk’s advances were unwarranted.

Joonghyuk carefully opened the box, unveiling a beautififul sword. The pristine steel gleamed like glittering diamonds even in the harsh false light of the bulbs above; the hilt was simple in shape but lavish in design, inlaid with white iridescent mother of pearl with black pearls set in the hilt like stars.

Joonghyuk held the box out before him.

“Do you accept?”

Dokja appeared to ponder the gift, dragging the moment out. But it was clear to Joonghyuk that the moment he had said it was a courting gift, Dokja had resolved to accept it.

“I accept.”

Joonghyuk genuinely smiled in a bright way that gave an impression of boyish youth. It would have chilled his subordinates to see such an expression on their boss’s face.

With a dashing grin, Joonghyuk pulled his own sword out of its’ scabbard that was strapped to his back. Dokja was clearly surprised having missed that detail.

(As Dokja had told him in past lives, black blends with black, it was easy to miss such things when black composed Joonghyuk’s entire ensemble from his air and eyes, to the clothes he wore, and to his personality)

His sword was the twin of Dokja’s, its hilt inlaid with polished obsidian and white pearl stars. He held it before him, and asked: “Care for a duel?”

“That hardly seems fair . . . after all Heewon and Hyunsung have told me.” It sounded like a protest but from his vicious grin and sharp gleam in his eyes, he relished the challenge.

Dokja moved with familiar grace, circling Joonghyuk, calculating how to win.

He always did like battles with long odds and low chance of success.

Their swords met in a familiar embrace, steel crashing against steel. They parried, dodged, thrust, and struck, enjoying the thrill. This was a dance eons old, one that had been performed ceaselessly across time. With each strike of their swords, Joonghyuk was thrown into another time: in their first lives, Dokja in his white coat and Joonghyuk in his black, their battles conducted sometimes out of annoyance, many times out of anger, occasionally forcibly due to the star stream, and in the later part of their journey out of care (Joonghuk found his  emotions better expressed through sword). Another strike, and Joonghyuk was a duke’s heir, and Dokja a baron’s son, young men of different backgrounds brought together by their shared love of sneaking out and gallivanting around the town. Another strike, and they were dragons, their claws their swords, dancing upon the air in a mating ritual, for dragons adored strength and ability. Dokja turned his hand and struck up, and Joonghyuk was a wealthy merchant facing off against a scrawny thief with a dagger (one he knocked out, took home, and made his lover).

The fight ended with their swords locked together, both of them trying to get the upper hand, but in the end the tricks both men used to try and unseat the other’s hand from their weapon, only resulted in both blades going flying. After which, Joonghyuk pushed forward and pinned Dokja to the floor.

Their breaths were heavy, sweat dripped from their bodies, their skin flushed. The fight had lasted longer than any normal training battle because neither of them had truly wanted to win, choosing instead to draw the fight out as long as they could. Adrenaline coursed like a raging river through their veins, invigorating them. Their eyes met, each other’s gaze swallowing the other, the magnetic pull of celestial bodies, dragging them towards one another.

Dokja grabbed Joonghyuk’s shirt collar, and pulled the alpha down, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss; their battle continuing.

Joonghyuk groaned deeply, a man parched suddenly inundated with what he craved. But all too soon, it was over. Dokja shoved him off. Now Joonghyuk was groaning for a different reason. He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “You frustrating stubborn man.”

Dokja laughed, the sound like soothing chimes, a siren’s call to Joonghyuk’s heated blood, but one he could not answer.

Dokja climbed on top of Joonghyuk, cruelly situating his hips above Joonghyuk’s own, lightly grinding down, seemingly pleased with the large shape outlined by Joonghyuk’s now very tight pants.

He forced the alpha to meet his gaze.

“Prove it to me.”

Was all he said and then his pleasant weight was gone, leaving Joonghyuk on the floor, wanting and throughly wrecked.

A savage grin spread across Joonghyuk’s face. He needed no further explanation. He would prove beyond any doubt, that he was the only alpha for his mate, that he would love him like no one else could.  Dokja wanted him but his cautious mind and past experiences visible through his mother and father, showed that alphas could change for the worse once their mate was bound to them. He would demonstrate that he was worthy to worship at the alter of his chosen god, that his heart would never waver or change, that the only pain Joonghyuk would ever bring to him was pain he requested.

Their pursuit would continue until Dokja decided he wanted it to end. The primal hunt of predator and prey invigorating their instincts, reviving their primordial nature. Joonghyuk was looking forward to the wonderful torture that would only be assuaged once he sunk his fangs into his star and claimed him.

——————————————-

Dokja (reluctantly) agreed to have a health check up conducted by the N’Gai Mafia’s best doctor: Lee Seolhwa.

She was a stunning beauty with white hair, fair skin, and delicate features. Dokja didn’t like her one bit. His scent was agitated throughout their meeting, his answers clipped, clearly expressing antagonism towards her. For her part, she took it in stride, performing her duties, drawing blood, inspecting his ears, eyes, and throat, his reflexes, and other routine tests.

She was the only omega in Joonghyuk’s inner circle, and thus jealousy was inevitable. Omegas were known for being territorial when it came to their intended mate, and Dokja saw her as a threat.

“You don’t have to worry.” Her voice was soft spoken, chiming and harmonious.

Dokja bristled, reminiscent of a tabby cat puffed up while facing an enemy. He glared at her, giving her no verbal response other than the intense acridness of his scent; a deeply unhappy omega.

Her knowing smile only frustrated him further.

“I don’t see Joonghyuk in that way, and I can assure with utmost certainty that he doesn’t view me in any other light. He actually hired me solely to take care of his future mate.”

“He did?”

“Yes. He wanted the best omega doctor he could find, and found me.”

Most doctors were alphas—sexism and discrimination against betas and omegas rampant in the medical field—so it was unusual to find an omega doctor.

“He didn’t trust alphas or betas to take care of you properly.”

Dokja’s scent mellowed, a bit abashed at his aggressive reaction towards the kind woman.

Seolhwa broached the next subject cautiously. “Have you had a heat since your presentation?”

Dokja refused to meet her eyes. “No.”

He had escaped his uncle’s home before he presented, having known that his uncle was trying to sell him off to alphas for them to use him during his first heat. He hid in the sewers of the city and spent his first heat in a cold smelly damp alcove, miserable and delirious. Deciding that he never wanted to go through something that harrowing again, he acquired suppressants illegally.

“I see, so you’ve been on supressants then. Was that continuously or did you take breaks?

“Continuously.”

Seolhwa glanced up from her clipboard. “I take it your first heat didn’t go well. What conditions were you in?”

Dokja squirmed, appearing nervous, like he didn’t want to say it. “Hiding in the sewer system.”

“That . . .,” Seolhwa paused, looking for the right words, “sounds like a dreadful experience.”

“It was.”

So much so, that he wished to never go through that again.

“It will be better this time.” Seolwha consoled.

Dokja reacted viscerally to her words, biting out, “Why!? Because of Joonghyuk? Since I have an alpha!?”

Seolwha remained calm, despite Dokja’s acerbic scent filling the room. “No—because you’ll be in a safe space this time with proper nesting materials and care items.” She reached out and grasped his hands, and although he recoiled slightly, he didn’t pull his hands away. “Dokja, when an omega goes into heat, they enter a kind of altered state of mind, conscious but also unconscious, as your mind shuts out the parts of your thoughts and being that don’t pertain to mating and breeding. A kind phantasmagoria of sex and desire. There is some pain and cramping but once again your senses are dulled—it’s actually the wanting and longing that seems the most agonizing.”

“You were in such a perilous situation, that your mind was forced to be totally aware, causing more pain and suffering than you should have been in. Whether you choose to spend your heat with Joonghyuk, or not, both he and I will do everything in our power to ensure your comfort to make sure such an instance never occurs again.”

Dokja was at a loss for words, not used to such sincere and soft comfort. He nodded in understanding.

Seolhwa lightly squeezed his hands before  pulling away, and picking up her clipboard to continue her assessment. “Now your weight is a little bit low, you’ll need get it up. I’ll have to run your blood work, but given what you looked like when you first came here, I suspect the results will show that your health has improved. How’s the weaning off your supressants going? Any side effects?”

“Just an increase in appetite and . . . um, sensitivity.”

“What kind?”

“Like in general—I guess?”

“Ah I see, that’s perfectly normal—that’s actually what you should be feeling, it’s your natural omegan instincts and behaviors that have been numbed due to the suppressants. Those emotions and feelings will feel less intense as you adjust to your new normal.”

Your body may stabilize somewhere between two to four months from now after which your body will resume its normal heat cycle.”

———————————————-

Joonghyuk was happy to hear his omega’s health was improving, all though disheartened that Dokja wanted to spend his heat alone (even though he had suspected as much)

————————————————

Dokja and Joonghyuk were heading down the hall to the training room, when Dokja started twitching his nose. He appeared to be picking up a strange scent. Joonghyuk sensed it on the air as well, although he already knew who the soft scents—lighter than a presented betas and slightly less sweet than an omegas—belonged to.

Upon entering the training hall, they were greeted by Sangah, Hyunsung—who was dressed in a dense suit that made him look like a tree—and two children (a boy and a girl) and two dogs.

The boy was on the floor resting, after sparing against Sangah. The girl whistled in a particular pitch, and the two dogs attacked Hyunsung, the purpose of the padded suit becoming clear.

Dokja cast a suspicious side long glance at Joonghyuk. “Why are there children here?”

“They’re apprentices to Sangah, chosen for unique skills. They’re being trained to be apart of the inner circle. They’re orphans if that makes you feel better.”

Dokja snorted. “Their families could have been nightmares like mine—background hardly matters as long as they’re here willingly.”

Upon noticing the alpha and omega pair, the other occupants respectfully greeted them. Joonghyuk and Dokja greeted them in return, with Dokja offering them a kind smile. The children—who didn’t like Joonghyuk very much (Dokja has many a time enjoyed the schadenfreude of random children crying upon seeing Joonghyuk’s unitentially scary resting bitch face)—greeted Joonghyuk half-heartedly but greeted Dokja with enthusiasm, having been told many great things about the omega.

“How about you two show them what you’ve been learning?” Sangah suggested.

With alacrity, the children (mainly addressing Dokja) explained their training. Yoosung had a natural predilection for understanding and training animals: birds, cats, and dogs, all them could be trained and used for covert missions. Gilyoung was an adept fighter but his unique knowledge of insects and how to weaponize them was a highly valued skill.

Joonghyuk watched Dokja out of the corner of his eye, seeing the way the corners of the omega’s lips turned up in a kind smile. He always had a soft spot for children having taken Gilyoung, Yoosung, and Biyoo under his wing in their first life. He treated them with kindness that he himself never received as child and although he protected them, he never babied them, and instead helped them grown and learn how to stand on their own.

Although it’s only been twelve lifetimes, they’ve already had multiple children over the course of their millennia. Dokja was always the better parent when it came to emotions and empathy while Joonghyuk was the better functional parent, adept at taking care of his family. He hoped that his family would grow in this lifetime as well.

The group spent the next few hours training together. The children were in awe as Dokja and Joonghyuk sparred, their dance of swords reminiscent of knights from fairytales. They went to have lunch together with Joonghyuk making the meal in the communal kitchen. Sooyoung and Seolhwa drifted in after hearing that their boss would be cooking, not wanting to miss out on such ambrosial food. Friendly chatter filled the air; sometimes some one would beg for a taste of the in process meal only to be glared away The children monopolized Dokja a majority of the time, seeming to find maternal comfort in his soft scent.

Joonghyuk buzzed with contentment. His plan of having his subordinates enmesh themselves in Dokja’s life to further bind and  trapping the omega was going splendidly.

Chapter Text

After a few weeks had passed, Joonghyuk brought Dokja to the main office where he conducted the majority of his business. The room was spacious, allowing for meetings and gatherings, with the room oriented around a large mahogany desk. Dokja took in the space, running a hand over the lacquered wood of the desk. Joonghyuk watched the movement of Dokja’s hand, taking note of his pale skin, his veins visible although not bulging, and the various callouses and scars from years of manual labor. His hands were small in comparison to Joonghyuk’s own; everything about him was small in comparison to Joonghyuk.

Joonghyuk remembered the first time he felt Dokja’s waist in their first life. He had grabbed Dokja by his hips, pulling the idiot out of the way of a flying boulder. He hadn’t been expecting his hands to cover such an expanse as Dokja’s poorly fitted suit and white coat successfully hid most of his body in an unflattering display. Seeing his hands, perfectly placed around his companion’s waist, and finding him so easy to maneuver as he pleased, did something to Joonghyuk. Although he barely had time to process that realization because he got hit in the head with a rock thrown at him by the monster they were fighting all because he stupidly froze.

He awoke hours later, and rather than process whatever emotion had overcome him, he instead chose to blame his foolish companion and take it out on him.

However, from then on, Joonghyuk began to take notice of Dokja’s features. The man was distraction incarnate, and Joonghyuk took out his frustration towards Dokja—frustration that stemmed from nowhere and could not be named—on the annoying man himself, who surprisingly in this case, was undeserving of Joonghyuk’s wrath. It didn’t help that Secretive Plotter was, for whatever reason, amused by the situation.

Later on when Dokja lost a minor sub-scenario (courtesy of Uriel) and was forced to wear revealing clothes, Joonghyuk realized what the problem was: it wasn’t just emotional attraction he felt towards Dokja as his sole life and death companion but physical attraction as well. Joonghyuk’s frustration was sexual frustration, which would would explain the frequent erections he was experiencing in Dokja’s presence.

(Dokja wasn’t the only one skilled in the art of denial).

He currently found himself in a relatable situation: physically unable to sate his lust for his companion, only allowed the tortuous act of admiring. Watching Dokja move about his office, Joonghyuk’s mind readily conjured lewd fantasies of his mate. He imagined restricting Dokja’s hands with a tie, bending him over the desk, and fucking him relentlessly. Perhaps on slow days, he’d have Dokja warm his cock as he worked, his omega whimpering all the while, slyly trying to move his hips and convince Joonghyuk to fuck him. He’d only relent once the day was done and Dokja wantonly begged him for release.

Joonghyuk eased his mind away from such fantasies—no matter how tempting they were—sitting down quickly in his leather chair to hide the erection clearly outlined by his slacks. Luckily, Dokja was too distracted taking in the room to notice his alpha’s turmoil, and thankfully Heewon and Hyunsung were guarding the door outside, so he was saved the indignity of them witnessing his arousal.

(And the they were saved from having such traumatic images burned into their minds)

Dokja pulled up one of the other chairs in the room to the opposite side of the desk, facing Joonghyuk. One day, another chair wouldn’t be needed as Dokja could just sit in his lap while they both worked—or better yet, on his cock, for hours on end, until just the feeling of the heavy girth of Joonghyuk’s cock buried his cunt was no longer enough for the omega, making him beg to be debauched upon the desk, marring the office surface with marks of their transgressions. Nail marks through the lacquered wood; semen and slick staining the floor; their combined scents so deeply etched into the room that all would know what had taken place.

“You alright?” Dokja asked.

“Fine.” Joonghyuk spoke through gritted teeth, his voice strained. It was alarmingly easy for him to fall into fantasizing.

He clearly wasn’t fine, but Dokja mercifully didn’t inquire any further.

Joonghyuk distracted his lustful mind by going over the inner workings of the N’Gai Mafia including ledgers, deals, and personnel missions.

“Should you really be showing me such as sensitive information?” Dokja inquired.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not part of the N’Gai Mafia.”

“But you will be—and I want you governing it as my equal, so you need to be aware to such things.”

“I’m not going to be part of the N’Gai Mafia—,” Dokja stubbornly refuted, “—and you seem to have an unwarranted high opinion of my abilities.” Dokja voiced with an edge of bitterness. Joonghyuk wasn’t surprised that Dokja appeared to have a low opinion of himself as he often tended to put Joonghyuk on a pedestal while disparaging his own accomplishments.

“I assure you that my high opinion is perfectly warranted—you did elude my grasp for two years. That’s why I’m showing you these things,” Joonghyuk stood up and walked around the desk, gazing at Dokja with unwavering faith, the depth of his conviction capturing the omega’s attention, Dokja’s eyes attentively following every movement of Joonghyuk’s lips. “Because I believe you have capabilities far greater than mine.”

Joonghyuk leaned in close. Dokja’s breath hitched, hanging off the alpha’s every word. Joonghyuk could see the longing and desire within those starry eyes: Dokja wanted to be more, to be something greater than just an unwanted and disillusioned omega running from his family, his life, the world. He wanted to be useful to Joonghyuk. He wanted to be needed. “You are my companion, and I want to show you everything that you can be.”

A dominant omega.

A ruler of the underworld.

A god.

Dokja swallowed thickly, his voice coming out in a sibilant whisper. “What do I need to do?”

Joonghyuk provided problems for Dokja to solve. Sangah’s intelligence network is extremely proficient, however as the N’Gai Mafia has grown considerably over the years, there are issues that fall through the cracks that could potentially exploit seemingly small weaknesses in the N’Gai Mafia’s security spelling disastrous consequences. Having both Dokja and Sangah working on rooting out traitors, solving territorial disputes, and eliminating those that would seek to harm them both internally and externally, would significantly strengthen the N’Gai Mafia.

Dokja’s first task was to root out a traitor within their supply lines. The traitor was presumed to be lower level as no classified information had been leaked from the personnel that control the level directly below the inner circle. However they did have enough info to know what products were being acquired by the N’Gai Mafia and how sabotage their acquisitions. Poor quality weapons were being brought in: jammed guns, weapons falling apart, explosive devices malfunctioning. The five warehouse admins responsible for the orders, imports, and the supply lines were all suspects. Armed with this info—minimal it may be—Dokja was given permission to interview the admins to root out the traitor.

Through a variety of cameras and Heewon and Hyunsung’s reports, Joonghyuk watched Dokja’s progress.

Flanked by Heewon and Hyunsung, Dokja interviewed the first four men. They didn’t take kindly to an omega interrogating them but Dokja was not one to be cowed. Joonghyuk had bestowed authority and power onto him, and he was quickly becoming addicted to that strength. The first four admins that Dokja questioned knew nothing, however the fifth man acted in a suspicious manner. He was chagrinned about being interrogated by an omega and behaved duplicitously, being both condescendingly polite while avoiding giving Dokja straight answers. Heewon and Hyunsung were furious at Dokja’s treatment but did not intervene as Dokja had not given them permission to.

“So you know nothing about the sabotaged weapons entering our supply chains?” Dokja inquired, being unusually direct for someone trying to needle information out of a potential traitor. Of course Dokja wasn’t simply assessing their words but reading all of their actions. He was going through the room and touching objects, assessing them and putting them back.

“As I’ve already said, I know nothing about any of that—hey can you stop that? I know it’s in your nature but please don’t covet the objects in my office.”

“No.” Dokja succinctly refused, riling the alpha up as he continued his perusal of the room.

He took a key from one of the desk drawers and opened up a file cabinet, brushing his fingers along the accounting ledgers. The alpha flinched, a nervous sweat over coming him. With that, he slammed the drawer and moved towards the door. “I will take my leave for now.” Dokja’s words laden with meaning.

Dokja then spent the rest of the week combing through ledgers, account books, personnel files, and interviewing various people involved in the supply chain.

——————-

Dokja sat before Joonghyuk, ready to give him the results.

“None of the admins are responsible for sabotaging the supply chain.”

“None of them?” Joonghyuk parroted back.

“That’s right, although I’m fairly certain Admin Young is embezzling.”

“Understood, I’ll have Sangah look into that. If it’s not any of the admins then who is responsible?”

“From the files I reviewed and interviews I conducted, I believe that there are multiple traitors among the delivery personnel. Here are the files of the people I suspect. The weapons that we ordered are present at time of pickup, but sometime between then and arriving here, the weapons are switched for ones of lower quality. I suspect, that one of your enemies is abetting these traitors and buying cheap low quality weapons and taking the ones you ordered .”

A sharp scent filled the air, chilling and deadly. “So someone thought they could cheat me out of the goods I bought and paid for.” Dokja winced, despite the rage not being directed at him. Seeing that, Joonghyuk reeled in his pheromones, the tension in the room lessening considerably.

“You did so well.” Joonghyuk purred out, voice sultry and dangerous. “I knew you would exceed my expectations.” Dokja shuddered as a red blush adorned his cheeks. Joonghyuk was all too aware of how much his star enjoyed being praised.

Joonghuk had Sangah take over and lay a trap for the traitors. In one fell sweep, all of them were captured and subsequently tortured. There was a rising gang leader who had the audacity to try and grow his own power and usurp Joonghyuk’s territory. Joonghyuk made an example of them. All involved—even family members and friends only involved by association—were killed, their bodies left throughout the city where they had been slain as a warning. The people of city called such mass retributions Blood Nights.

Disturbingly though, there seemed to be a larger power backing the traitors, but their tracks were too well covered for even Sangah to locate.

The N’Gai Mafia’s territory was bordered by three others: Uriel’s territory, Gong Pildu’s territory, and some random guy name Kim Hyunwoo. Due to Uriel and Joonghyuk’s alliance the area had been relatively stable. However, with Nirvana’s government seizing primary control of the White City away from Gong Pildu’s mafia, the balance between the four cities was disrupted. The change in power seemed to embolden Kim Hyunwoo who had recently taken to blustering and making threats in an attempt to try and acquire more territory for himself. He had systematically been increasing tensions along the border he shared with Joonghyuk’s Red City using street gangs to wreak havoc, steal, and disrupt law and order. They were bringing weapons and people into Red City, in a an attempt to assert that the area should belong to them due to the population.

This was Dokja’s next task to solve.

Dokja lay on the leather couch in Joonghyuk’s office, contemplating how to proceed, while Joonghuk did routine paperwork that needed to be completed. It was a simple way to spend time together, and Joonghyuk was happy that Dokja was seeking him out more and more, rather than holding himself up in the library all day.

Dokja had already cycled through multiple ideas, thinking out loud and bouncing the them off of Joonghyuk. Assassination would only create instability. A territory war would be a waste of resources: Kim Hyunwoo’s city is in a strategically bad spot, not near any good resources or access points. Ultimately, Dokja had to answer the question: how to bring the man to heel without wasting resources, going to war, or becoming allies (Joonghyuk wanted nothing to do with him).

Joonghyuk could see that Dokja was frustrated, his mind continuously churning through ideas.

The omega let out a long suffering sigh, before turning over to face Joonghyuk. “Throw me your coat.”

Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow but quickly acquiesced, tossing his long black coat to his omega. The coat was reminiscent of the black coat from his first life. He always tried to replicate it in each lifetime, in order to hopefully illicit some unconscious familiarity and fondness in the fragments of Dokja’s soul.

Dokja took the coat, curled up tightly, and pulled the fabric over himself, until only the top of his hair was visible, emmersing himself in the alpha’s scent. While still not entirely sold on becoming Joonghyuk’s mate, under Seolwha’s guidance, he was listening to his instincts and engaging more frequently with his omegan behaviors. At the sight, sun burst in Joonghuk’s chest, a nova of love and longing.

An hour later, Dokj rolled over, the coat slipping from his head. He blinked blurry eyed at Joonghyuk and asked: “Joonghyuk, the Black Flame Dragon territory borders the White City to the north, correct?”

“Yes.” Joonghuk answered, eager to learn of the plan formulating in his star’s mind.

“I’ve worked at few bars and customers were always prone to freely gossiping like I didn’t exist—unless I was serving them drinks of course. There was a group of men that passed through one time—they were not from the Red City—they described the ruler of the Black Flame Dragon territory as extremely petty. Now as you’ve probably met him, tell me just how petty is he? Petty enough to start a territory war due to an insult?”

“He’s petty enough to start a territory war just because someone looked at him the wrong way.”

Dokja smirked victoriously, his plan coming into fruition.

Dokja and Joonghyuk spent the rest of the day implementing a plan to orchestrate a conflict between the Black Dragon territory and Kim Hyunwoo’s territory, which would force Kim Hyunwoo’s sights away from the Red City, ceasing his annoying and futile attempts to take over part of Joonghyuk’s territory.

At the end of the day, Dokja slumped against Joonghyuk, worn out. He inhaled, humming pleasantly as he smelled Joonghyuk’s pleased pheromones.

Joonghyuk leaned over and kissed the top of Dokja’s head. The omega had just started allowing Joonghyuk to perform such actions. “I am very happy my omega, you did so well.” He whispered into the crown of the smaller man’s head.

Dokja purred in response, enjoying being praised. “If you’re that happy then make me murin dumplings for dinner.”

“Gladly.”

—————————————

“Now Uriel can be. . . a bit much.” Joonghyuk stood close to Dokja and fixed his tie.

“A bit much, how?”

“Just a bit much.”

“Wow thank you for such eloquence—you helped so much.”

Joonghyuk tightened the tie’s knot, and then used it to pull Dokja forward with it. He slipped a hand around Dokja’s waist—fuck he had missed being able to touch him—bringing the omega’s body flush against his own. Seeing Dokja dressed so handsomely in a perfectly tailored suit riled him up. “I don’t need eloquence.” His voice a deep timbre, his expression feral.

Dokja met his taunt with bravado, leaning forward into Joonghyuk’s space, their breaths mingling. “Is that so? And here I thought smooth words and sweet nothings were the key to getting someone into bed? Perhaps if you were any good at that you would have already been able to claim me.”

Dokja always knew how to elicit strong reactions from Joonghyuk.

Joonghyuk growled, nearly snarling, as he exposed his fangs and pinned Dokja against nearest the wall. Dokja let out a low scintillating moan, partially due to the force with which he was pressed against the wall, and partially due to Joonghyuk’s hips pinning his own down, providing delightful contact but lacking friction.

Dokja whimpered under the force of Joonghyuk’s pheromones filling the air: pure unadulterated arousal, heady and addicting, he was losing his ability to form cohesive thoughts, his primal nature raging at its cage, trying to take over, trying to push his alpha to the precipice until he gave him what he wanted and sunk his teeth into the scent glands on his neck.

But rational thought prevailed.

“Joonghyuk,” Dokja’s voice a breathy whisper, “We’re going to be late.”

Joonghyuk acted like he didn’t understand, instead choosing to lean into the crook of his star’s neck, inhaling the redolent sweet spice. He relished the shiver that ran down his omega’s body, part fear at having an alpha so close to a vulnerable part of his body and part arousal.

“Joonghyuk-ah!” Dokja whined.

“Fine.” Joonghyuk relented, pulling away.

Dokja’s eyes were slightly teary, his skin flushed a delicious red. “You asshole. You just wanted me to call you that.”

“You so rarely call my name in such an affectionate manner, what else am I to do.”

Dokja groaned.

Joonghyuk rubbed his wrist lightly. “I’m missing my cuff links. I’ll meet you at the bar, and we can have a drink before heading out.”

Dokja gazed at him suspiciously but ultimately left the room. “Fine—you promised to show me how to drink, so you better deliver.”

He had told him that. After Dokja’s and Sangah’s drunken escapade, Joonghyuk had insisted that he would teach the omega how to drink in a responsible manner.

As soon as the door closed, Joonghyuk cursed out loud. “Fuck.”

He ran a hand through his gelled hair mussing it up, as he sat down on the bed and swiftly unbuckled his pants, pulling out his cock, and stroking it at a fast and brutal pace. Truly, his omega had no clue how he affected Joonghyuk or else he wouldn’t dare be so brazen. This was tenth time they had been in such a situation and it was the tenth time Dokja had bailed. But it was understandable—as much as his star liked to tease, it was all bluster. He couldn’t handle Joonghyuk’s retaliation without turning into a blushing mess. Joonghyuk had a millennia’s worth of knowledge in the art of seduction, while the Dokja in this life, at only twenty-one, had zero. He was easily overwhelmed by the more experienced alpha, and quick to turn tail and run away when he felt like it was too much.

As he told Joonghyuk after the third incident: ‘You make me feel like I’m going to combust.”

Joonghyuk was so wound up that he finished quickly, his seed spilling onto his hand. A sad sight. He’d much rather see it spilled across his star’s face, or painted across his lips, or buried in his cunt.

Fuck.

He was going to need to change pants.

Joonghyuk entered the bar wearing dark green slacks, a black dress shirt with a forest green vest, and emerald cuffs.

“Why’d you change?” Dokja inquired, from upon a bar stool.

“The pants didn’t match my cuffs.”

“You’re pants were black—black goes with everything.”

“Well these ones are better.” Joonghyuk gritted out.

Dokja gave him a once over before turning away with red cheeks. “True.”

Joonghyuk got behind the bar and got to work making cocktails for Dokja to try. Just like when Joonghyuk cooked for him, Dokja sat nearby watching intensely, captivated by the skilled movement of Joonghyuk’s scarred hands.

Dokja tried an array of colorful potion like drinks, only taking small sips so as not to get absolutely hammered before their dinner with Uriel.Some were too strong for his liking and he couldn’t help but twist up his face as the liquid burned down his throat. Others, despite having an alarmingly high alcohol content, went down smooth and easy, dangerous to the mind’s perception as they tasted like a fresh fruit juice or luscious desserts.

But, in the end:

“I think I like Sangah’s method more.”

Joonghyuk visibly wilted, his brows pinched. “Such unsophisticated taste.”

Dokja just smiled brightly, enjoying seeing his alpha pout.

“Just promise me that you and Sangah won’t get trashed like that again.” A hopeless request but one he had to try and make. He really didn’t want to end up with a pet fish again.

“I make no promises.” Dokja sung, while leaving his stool.

“Dokja.”

“No promises Joonghyuk!” He proclaimed as he left the bar.

————————————————

Dokja looked askance at Joonghyuk who only shrugged.

He had told him that Uriel was a bit much.

Currently, his omega was wrapped up in a bear hug by a tall blond haired woman whose slight body belied her true strength. She fawned over Dokja, eyes glowing with enthusiasm!

“You’re so adorable—just as I imagined! It’s so wonderful to meet Joonghyuk’s fated mate!”

Deciding it better not to protest against the excitable woman Dokja simply greeted her in return. “It’s nice to meet Joonghyuk’s ally as well.”

Finally letting go of Dokja, She quickly ushered both of them inside. “Come come! Dinner is already being set!”

Uriel gave them a brief tour as they made their way to the mansions dining hall
“Joonghyuk has told me so much about you! He’s been looking for you for so long—I had almost begun to think he would be alone forever, fated to die alone never knowing the warmth of his beloved.”

Uriel spoke in a romantic and poetic way that was vaguely uncomfortable for everyone else in the room. Joonghyuk, for his part, always wore an austere brooding expression which he artfully used to hide his emotions (and the intense cringe he felt), while Dokja wore his most professional smile.

“So Dokja, tell me everything about how you first met? Was it love at first sight? I already asked Joonghyuk but as I’m sure you know, words aren’t his strong suit.”

“Yes Dokja, why don’t you tell her everything.” Joonghyuk playfully smirked.

Dokja’s smile strained. Uriel turned to address a servant who came to fill her glass with more champagne and while her head was turned, Dokja viciously mouthed ‘Bastard’ at Joonghyuk.

Uriel was an important ally, and part of that allyship was their purported shared love of romance and fated mates. Dokja couldn’t tell her the actual truth.

Luckily, Dokja knew how to act and lie his ass off.

“Well he saw me at the restaurant where I worked. There was a strange man gazing longingly through the window at me. However, I ignored it as there are a lot of weird people on that side of town. Soon after, I started receiving declarations of love.” The most poetic way to say that Joonghyuk secretly scented the places Dokja stayed at without the omega’s knowledge or permission. “And realized I had a secret admirer. He had certainly caught my attention with his grand gestures. It wasn’t until I received a letter to meet in person, that I actually saw what he looked like.”

Uriel was starry eyed, hanging on every single word leaving Dokja’s lying lips.

“Was it love at first sight?” Her expression practically pleading for him to say yes.

“It wasn’t quite love at first sight. I was hesitant in meeting a strange alpha—my experience with love and alphas tainted during childhood.” A stray tear ran down Uriel’s cheek and she looked one second away from blubbering. It was hard to imagine that she was actually a ruthless warlord. “But I was certainly captivated by him.” Dokja lightly emphasized the ‘captive’ part of the word captivated, in a subtle manner that only Joonghyuk caught on to. The alpha’s eyes darkened as he met his omega’s playful gaze. “And now he’s doing his utmost best to win me over. Practically throwing himself at my feet actually.”

Joonghyuk childishly kicked Dokja’s shin underneath the table.

“As he should.” Uriel nodded in affirmation.

Dokja then steered the conversation away from his and Joonghyuk’s love life by using the age old tactic of continually asking Uriel open ended questions about herself.

They walked out of Uriel’s mansion at the end of the night exhausted and a little drunk.

Finally alone together, Joonghyuk sincerely commented, “We have a beautiful love story.”

Dokja aimed an elbow at Joonghyuk’s stomach, and being muscled and strong, he easily accepted the hit from his omega.

Dokja slightly lost in drunken thought commented. “We‘re going to need to come up with a more acceptable tale—we are not telling our children that.”

He kept walking, not fully comprehending what he said, or that Joonghyuk had stopped.

“Children . . “ Joonghyuk muttered.

Dokja’s face instantly flushed a it dawned on him what he had admitted to. He turned back around towards Joonghyuk. “T-that’s not what I meant—I meant in general, but when I have kids—it can’t be a stupid story.”

“Are you implying you’ll have kids with someone else?” Joonghyuk challenged, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“That’s for up to me to decide.” Dokja hesitantly retorted.

Joonghyuk approached, a dark shadow in his expression. He harshly gripped Dokja by his chin and tipped the omega’s head up. “Anyone you meet I will kill in the cruelest way possible. I will pursue you to the ends of the earth—there is no escaping me. You will be mine and only mine.”

Dokja bared his teeth in anger. “Fucked up bastard! I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

However, his challenge was dampened by his arousal, sweet pheromones swirling through the air. His own body gave him away. He loved Joonghyuk’s brand of crazy. That dark obsession that meant Joonghyuk only had eyes for him.