Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The conversation started because they were drunk and Beomgyu’s cologne did little to smother the smell of his desperation. He was wearing something expensive and woodsy, the kind an alpha would wear — although, Soobin never would. He preferred something clean and cottony. 

It fit him, though, just as the fishnets underneath his ripped jeans did. An omega who was looking at Soobin with a half-lidded gaze, like he was hungry. Then there was a beep of a new customer through the convenience store doors and Soobin blinked back to reality. How did his mind always travel there?

He was too drunk to be thinking about his best friend that way, and it made it worse that Beomgyu asked:

“Are you, like, a pleaser?”

Soobin spluttered, too dazed and confused to comprehend what he said. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“Because you’re an alpha who sucks at being an alpha, mostly,” he laughed, spooning rice into his cherry-tinted mouth. “How do we both keep going on Hinge dates that suck? You have to be doing something wrong.”

“Doesn’t that mean you suck, too?”

Because they had just both reconvened after their dates like they always did, always at the convenience store, always nearing midnight. This time they had decided to go on dates at the same bar and had accidentally gotten too drunk for who they had invited, promptly leaving them to fend for themselves.

Soobin felt bad, of course, he was human after all. His date was an attractive omega with a lithe frame and serpentine features, elegant in the way that usually caught his eye. Although, he couldn’t remember the structure of his face so much anymore. It had become smudged ink on a page, all blurred.

It was like he hadn’t been on that date at all. Maybe it was because his gaze kept drifting across the bar to where Beomgyu sat, all long legs and mussed hair, laughing too loudly at something he clearly didn’t find funny.

He was sitting with an alpha in a suit, a stuffy high collar and an upturned nose. Beomgyu always had a thing for those who were older than him, the put-together types. It was a fact that fluttered around in his mind uncomfortably as he watched them. He watched Beomgyu lean in a little too close, grin a bit too widely. That was until a serendipitous third round was placed in front of him and he downed it like a shot.

Again, he felt bad for his date. He was distracted.

“I do suck, you can’t relate.” 

He licked a grain of rice that was stuck to his lips into his mouth. Soobin tried not to look at his wet tongue.

“You’re a dick,” Soobin tried. It didn’t come out strong enough, more like a breath. “I’m not single because I don’t give head. I’m single because I haven’t felt chemistry with someone since Minju during freshman year.”

Beomgyu pulled a face. “Don’t say his name in vain.”

Beomgyu had hated every single boyfriend Soobin has had since they had met in the first year of middle school. It’s not like they lasted long enough to matter much anyway — his relationships were terminal, always dead before 2 months were up.

His best friend had even worse luck than he did. Doomed to a carousel of situationships and hookups, despite being the most hopelessly romantic omega Soobin had ever known. Beomgyu would always drag him into movie nights where they would watch tedious romcoms and sometimes he would cry on Soobin’s shoulder, his t-shirt a tissue for his runny nose.

They were both, unjustly, love repellent.

Soobin picked at his ramen and spoke around a mouthful of it. “I’m just tired of dating, you know? I don’t feel any spark, always finding something that annoys me about them. I don’t know what I can do to fix it.”

He was being vulnerable, it was the truth serum his date had laced in his drink. Soobin was familiar with his own bluntness mostly because it chased away more of his partners than he could count. The third bottle of soju might have exacerbated that issue. 

Particularly when he told his date that his first kiss was the man across the bar. He added: “Over there, the pretty one.”

And now the pretty one was sprawled in front of him with gloss on his chin, legs spread and slouching on a convenience store chair, groaning from the tension headache at the base of his skull. 

He pressed a cold can of beer to his head and he looked like a grumpy puppy, tail dragging along the floor.

“If I could delete Hinge and never re-download it, I would. You think you’re having issues with your dates? Try being an omega and finding an alpha who doesn’t immediately think you’re gonna roll over and purr for them."

“You always have so much fun on dates though,” Soobin mumbled and couldn’t help but recall the raucous laughter that came from his side of the room.

Beomgyu grinned at that in the sloppy, drunken way that made Soobin feel something in his belly. "If fun means wanting to jump into oncoming traffic halfway through, then yeah. I guess I’m having a blast."

“You looked pretty entertained by Mr. Big tonight, I don’t know.”

He tried to control the bitter roll of his tongue, but couldn’t help it. It was always on the tip of it. Maybe Beomgyu wasn’t the only one who hated when attention wasn’t on him.

Beomgyu pouted and leaned over to take Soobin’s soft cheeks in his damp hand, voice dripping in fake sympathy. “Is that so? You were feeling a little left out?”

Soobin’s throat went dry. He wanted to blame the salt from the ramen, but deep down he knew better. He kicked Beomgyu's ankle to get him off. 

“Not left out, just taken aback that you had such an entertaining date. It was like a stand-up special with the way you were going on. I think I saw your hand on his thigh so you didn’t heave yourself over the stool.”

Beomgyu leaned back and took a dumpling into his mouth, all in one bite. Beomgyu’s face was slim and sharp so the round tuft of dough and meat created an indent in his cheek. He looked like an eager mouse, maybe a squirrel with an acorn tucked into his gums. He looked best like this, and if Soobin hadn’t known any better, if he hadn’t known Beomgyu at all, he would have said that he looked sweet.

But Beomgyu wasn’t sweet; only sometimes to Soobin, but even that was pushing it. Beomgyu was nice and kind, but not sweet.

He would rip someone to shreds for someone that he loved, just as he was doing to the dumpling in his mouth. He was eating with his mouth open and Soobin could see the contents of it on his tongue. It was disgusting, really, seeing Beomgyu’s sharp teeth reduce it to mush. His hot, wet mouth. 

“It’s called performance, Bin. You wouldn’t know it if it hit you with a brick. You’re supposed to make your date feel like they are funny, you laugh and you smile and you boost their ego. It’s the name of the game.”

Soobin tried to listen but all he could focus on was his mouth and how the dumpling felt on his tongue. He pinched his thigh hard to cast it to the back of his mind, the very recesses of it. He shouldn’t be thinking about how it felt to be in Beomgyu’s mouth.

“You don’t get sick of performing all the time?”

Beomgyu shook his head and swallowed his food down, “No. That’s what you’re here for. My proverbial dumping ground.”

“That’s all I am to you?” Soobin asked, kicking at Beomgyu’s boots. “The alpha you go to when you need to rant?”

Beomgyu winked at him, “Something like that.”

He didn’t know why it made him shudder, a visible tremble that he would have to pass off as a chill from the cold. 

Ever since Beomgyu transferred to Soobin’s middle school from Daegu there had been red thread tied to their fingers. The seat next to Soobin was free, so Beomgyu sat there on his first day. Soobin had no friends in social studies, so he and Beomgyu were paired for an assignment. Beomgyu had opened the bathroom door a bit too hard one morning and Soobin had been right behind it, his nose gushing blood from the impact. 

It was as if Earth itself tipped Beomgyu into his lap, turning on its axis to try to shuffle them toward each other. It was the work of gravity because it had to be something celestial, too convenient. 

When Soobin presented as an alpha, no one was surprised. They knew it was coming. But when Beomgyu presented as an omega, people looked at them differently in the halls. Suddenly their friendship took a different shape because then everyone assumed they were dating.

Soobin couldn’t imagine dating Beomgyu, garish and brazen. He was his best friend — it would never go beyond that. The thought always made the two of them laugh.

“Why did you ask in the first place?”

Beomgyu hummed, “Hm?”

“If I’m a,” Soobin paused. “Pleaser.”

Beomgyu slapped his hair tie against his wrist and grinned at him. He had them because his hair had grown too long and he preferred it off his face, but Soobin knew he liked to have something in his hands to fidget with. He played with Soobin’s fingers often.

“Just thinking.”

Thinking about Soobin being a pleaser?

“Elaborate.”

Beomgyu was never flustered, but his ears pinked. He quickly pushed his hair from behind his ears to cover them. “Why do I have to elaborate? I was just asking a question.”

“Because if I asked you that question you would ask me why I asked.”

“That’s a wordy sentence.”

“And yet you understood it all the same.”

Beomgyu sighed and leaned back in his chair, the position of his legs drawing Soobin’s attention. His thighs weren’t thick like Soobin’s, but they were strong under the rips of his jeans. Omegas were delicate and polite — Beomgyu wasn’t and maybe that was what made him so interesting to Soobin.

“I’ve only hooked up with alphas who were, like, dead set on dominating me. The ones who don’t let you move a muscle, I’m always a fucking starfish. Don’t feel a thing.”

Oh.

Soobin didn’t want to think about Beomgyu that way, long hair spread on the pillow like some kind of angel. An alpha snarling and salivating above him. There was no one in the world who deserved seeing his best friend like that.

“You’ve never felt anything? At all?”

Beomgyu sighed solemnly, “At all.”

“There’s no way.”

“Well it’s not like I have a stats sheet where I can show you every time I’ve orgasmed, Soobin. You just have to believe me.”

There was a click of a tongue from the refrigerated section of the convenience store. They both turned to see an older woman, late 60s, glaring at them. Beomgyu glared back.

“When did everyone get so conservative,” Beomgyu whined. “Anyway, I asked because I think you’d, you know, do what I asked.”

There was already sweat beading on his scalp and Soobin brought his shaky hands to his hair to push it back. They got tangled in it, the strands were damaged from when Beomgyu bleached it the week prior.

“What makes you think that? You think I wouldn’t dominate you?”

The front of Beomgyu’s boot ran along his shin by accident. “Well, would you?”

Soobin paused. Did it make him any less of an alpha in Beomgyu’s eyes if he said he was never really able to dominate any of his previous partners? The words always felt so strange on his tongue. He hated the control and the exertion of power, he never knew if he was doing it right, preferred someone to make themselves feel good with his body.

There was a time where he sat in front of his computer with a notepad and pen, watching porn and noting down everything they said. 

His top 5, when looking back: 

• “Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?”

• “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

• “Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.”

• “You look just about good enough to eat.”

• “Take your clothes off. Right now.”

However, when Soobin used the fourth one on a previous hookup, the line was stilted and wonky. He said something like, “I will eat you now, I’m ready.” It got awkward after that.

Beomgyu was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, the corner of his mouth ticking upward in an almost-grin. His best friend, his omega, could see right through him.

Soobin stood up abruptly and the chair scraped against the tile floor.

“Let’s go, I need to have a shower. I feel disgusting.”

Soobin walked him back to campus after that and the crisp air at least dried the sweat that had accumulated, well, everywhere. 

The roads were quiet besides the soft pad of their feet against the pavement. Beomgyu always said he didn’t need an alpha to feel safe on the street, he did judo as a child, but Soobin noticed the way he always dug himself into his side on the walks back to his dorm. He never said no when Soobin offered to take him to the very front door.

Beomgyu was beautiful, Soobin wasn’t blind to it. Knew it was dangerous for anyone to see him walk around looking the way he did. Especially tonight, his dark makeup smudged and his jacket sliding off his shoulder.

Soobin quickly moved to tug it straight, fixing his collar.

Beomgyu looked up at him and knocked his head into Soobin’s arms. “You’re so annoying.”

“What?” Soobin laughed. “Why?”

“Stop treating me like a princess, you always do that.”

Did Soobin treat Beomgyu like a princess? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he did. He would have done the same to Taehyun, to Yeonjun. Not to Kai, mostly because Taehyun would glower at him, but he would if Taehyun wasn’t there.

“I’m just being nice.”

Beomgyu looked at him again, and when Soobin looked down at him, he turned away.

There was quiet between them for a long stretch of the walk, Beomgyu kicking pebbles every now and then to listen to them skitter along the cement. Filling the silence.

Then, in a quiet voice, “I have a question.”

There was never any hesitation when it came to Beomgyu, so Soobin replied quickly. “What is it?”

“If we are both tired of online dating, dating in general,” Beomgyu’s voice trailed off. He was biting on his bottom lip, worrying it, and Soobin wanted to soothe the red mark it left. “Have you ever thought of, like, just messing around with someone you trust? Taking the edge off but not having to commit to anything?”

Now, Soobin wasn’t dumb. Daft enough to walk across the road without looking at both sides, but not enough to miss the way Beomgyu was slapping his hair tie against his wrist again. Not enough to ignore the way Beomgyu turned to each passing shopfront to gaze upon, what, the design of the logo? 

Soobin had a degree in Beomgyu-ology, picked up each and every tell. 

But it was better for him to say it aloud, especially when Soobin’s heart was racing like it was. He gave the power back to him.

“Yeah, it’d be nice. What do you mean, though?”

Beomgyu shot him a look, eyebrows drawn together, frustrated. The kind of look he gave when Soobin finished the last cup of ramen without asking. It made Soobin want to apologize for not understanding fast enough.

“I’m saying,” Beomgyu said, exasperated, flinging his arms in the air like this was Soobin’s fault, “if you’re up for it, we could just…”

A gust of wind swept a strand of hair into his face. Soobin, without thinking, leaned in and blew it gently aside. Beomgyu’s nose scrunched at the puff of air.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

He knew it was coming, he didn't know how, but hearing it aloud still made his stomach flip so violently it felt like something inside him had dislodged.

Soobin’s tongue felt heavy as he mumbled, “You want to have sex with me?”

“I don’t want to, obviously,” Beomgyu groaned. “But if there is someone that I would rather fuck on the weekends, it would probably be you. Or Kai, but Taehyun would kill me if I asked him.”

“I was just thinking that before.”

Beomgyu’s gaze snapped back to him, wide. Searching, almost. “You were thinking of fucking Kai?”

“No.” Soobin looked away, heat inching up his neck. “Forget it.”

“Anyway,” Beomgyu continued on. “You know me, how I work. Doesn’t it just make sense that we use each other while we find our mate?”

Use each other. The very thought of it made Soobin tense — Beomgyu using him and his body to get off, being pliant for his pretty best friend. For once, Soobin imagined being wanted. Not as some fantasy of what an alpha should be: rough, dominant, controlling. But just… himself. Clumsy, earnest, trying. Useful, in the right way.

Beomgyu’s lashes fluttered against his high cheeks, his voice as soft as the breeze. “You’re thinking about it.”

Soobin swallowed, throat dry. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Beomgyu smiled, crooked and knowing. Knew who Soobin was and how he could build things up in his head without meaning to.

Soobin was someone who second-guessed everything that wasn’t written out in neon.

Of course it didn’t need to be complicated. He and Beomgyu loved each other, if only platonically. He was the best friend he had ever had. Back when he had dated hawk-faced Minju, beanstalk Woongki in senior year, too, Beomgyu had been the one to guide him. He was a mentor back then, texting in his place because Soobin couldn’t quite flirt back then like Beomgyu could. Sometimes they would walk past a grocery store front, eyeing the bouquets, and Beomgyu would tell him to buy a bunch and put it in his boyfriend’s locker. When Soobin did what he said, his boyfriend at the time had wrapped his arms around his neck and told him it was the most romantic gesture he had ever received.

At the latter end of every relationship he had, Beomgyu would tell Soobin when they were using him, when they were manipulating his gentleness, when he was losing himself for the sake of someone who wouldn’t even mate him if they had the chance.

Beomgyu had taught him how to kiss, too. In the dark of his bedroom, with a movie playing on mute and buttery popcorn between them, he had looked at Soobin with a tilted head and said, “You’re too stiff. Come here.”

Soobin had come. He always did.

He broke up with them all eventually. Not for Beomgyu, never quite because of him, but the line blurred too easily. And Beomgyu would always open his front door and say, “You want to watch something dumb and forget about it?” like it was nothing. Like he knew Soobin would always come back to him.

This was his best friend, and if he couldn’t have sex with him with no-strings-attached, who could it ever be with?

“We have to be careful, Beomgyu.”

It was half a warning, half a plea. Because he knew himself and how easily his emotions attached, how desperately he wanted things to mean something.

And because Beomgyu was Beomgyu, that was a yes. He shoved playfully into his side, their shoulders knocking, “Duh. We will write a list of rules and everything.”

“Lovely,” Soobin said, running a hand down his face. “Should we sit criss-cross applesauce and deliberate? Maybe light a candle? Summon the group chat and vote on best practices for fucking your best friend?”

“Don’t be so cynical. This is a collaboration, not a corporate merger.”

“I’m just saying, we’re not exactly good at simple.”

Beomgyu tilted his head in disagreement. “I think we are. Maybe we’re good at each other.”

That shut Soobin up. Not because it was a lie, but because it was true. Painfully, dangerously true. There was nothing that Soobin was good at quite like knowing Beomgyu.

The walk had been quick and it could have been from the leftover alcohol in his system or the buzzing that thrummed beneath his skin, from the promise they had made with each other. They came to a halt outside of Beomgyu’s dorm building and they finally stood facing each other.

What did Beomgyu see when he looked at him? 

He knew what he looked like. Tall, broad-shouldered, too much of everything. His face still held that round softness that made strangers mistake him for gentle before anything else. His hair was blond now because Beomgyu had tilted his head one day and said, “It’d make your eyes look prettier.” Soobin had pretended to scoff and let him put his head in the sink that night.

He always dressed too neatly, preppy. Sweaters and white t-shirts, a little too clean cut beside Beomgyu’s leather straps and graphic tees. They looked like they didn’t belong in the same picture. But they always had.

Friends with benefits. It was something that should have felt simple. Palatable. Easy. But even now, standing a breath apart, Soobin couldn’t help the lingering insecurity that was always there. He was an alpha who wasn't quite an alpha; looked like one, smelled like one, but could never perform as one.

Would he be enough for Beomgyu? Not just enough to touch. But enough to want in a way that wasn’t platonic.

“Are you sure about this?”

He was giving him an out. Something that Beomgyu could use as a buoy to haul himself back now that he had gotten some fresh air, sobered up. Soobin needed to give Beomgyu a chance to see him now and take it all back.

And because everything about Beomgyu was a light breeze, a steady tide, he stepped forward and smoothed his hand over the wrinkles of Soobin’s shirt. Beneath his hands, Soobin flexed instinctively and he hoped he couldn’t feel the heavy thud of his heart through the cotton.

“You’re overthinking again.”

“Hard not to sometimes,” Soobin whispered, tipping his head down just enough to meet Beomgyu’s eyes.

"I know," Beomgyu said back, quiet as he'd ever been. "You can say no, you know?"

Soobin knew he could say no, that wasn't really the problem. He wanted to more than he cared to admit to Beomgyu's face — he would make fun of him for it. 

But wanting came with risk. And Soobin had built his life around avoiding that. He’d never been reckless, never leapt first. Not with school, not with love, never with Beomgyu. And that was the crux of it. What was at stake wasn’t just a night of tension relief. It was the one thing Soobin couldn’t afford to lose; their friendship, the years of trust and comfort that lived between them.

Was it worth losing so many years of friendship? Just because Soobin was starved for touch, and Beomgyu was tired of alphas who didn’t take his fantasies into consideration?

Instead of asking these questions, Soobin tucked Beomgyu's hair that had slipped from his ear back behind it.

"Yeah," he breathed. "We'll make the rules some other night."

Beomgyu’s smile was small and secretive. Like he’d heard all the things Soobin didn’t say and was choosing not to call him on them. At least, not yet.

Soobin wasn’t very good at university. The concept of it, mostly. Time management eluded him entirely. He tended to leave assignments until an hour before it was due and, even then, sometimes he would submit them a day later, accepting the 10% mark deduction. A symptom of his laziness, his inability to fully focus on one thing at a time.

So when his group of friends had decided to enroll in the same elective — LIS304: Leadership in Society — for the fun of it, Soobin had issued a warning: “Just don’t count on me for the teamwork stuff.” They laughed it off at the time.

They weren’t laughing two weeks into the semester. His phone buzzed regularly with increasingly desperate messages:

Kai

hey bin, have you started your section yet?

Yeonjun

dude you arent on the google doc

Taehyun

I’ll do Soobin’s part. 

Bamie

@soobin u want me to come over and we can do it together?

Soobin always ended up replying to Beomgyu. He’d type something like sure if you want to, even though he always wanted him to.

Beomgyu was ahead of all of his assignments and, somehow, he still had time to attend clubs. Eventually throughout the night, Beomgyu would tire of Soobin’s waning attention, having to tap him intermittently to rouse him from sleeping while sitting up straight, and they would put on a movie. That was their thing for a long while.

One night, as Soobin’s head drooped again halfway through reading an unreasonably dense scholarly article, he got a message from the group chat.

Yeonjun

how about we do it together at the uni cafe we need a soobin monitor

Soobin grinned sleepily at his phone and passed it to Beomgyu. “They’re staging an intervention.”

Beomgyu didn’t even look up from the screen. “Too late. I already claimed you. I’m your pro bono tutor.”

me

Tomorrow morning?

Yeonjun

if youre up for it

you havent even made a dent in the powerpoint bro

me

I’m doing it with Beomgyu now.

Taehyun

So no work is getting done, got it.

Beomgyu scowled at his phone. “They think we are sitting around, doing nothing”

“Yeah,” Soobin tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. “I don’t know why they don’t trust us.”

Pouting, “I know. Like we would sit around fondling each other instead of working, we haven’t even had sex yet.”

Soobin turned around at his desk and gave Beomgyu a pointed glare. “Do you have to speak so loud? This is a sharehouse. Eight people. And they are all nosy.”

“They already think we’re hooking up,” he said, popping a gummy into his mouth. “They’ll live.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tensed as he chewed, a sharp line to match his neck with its pointy Adam’s apple, bobbing down when he swallowed. His lips were already red from the candy.

“What?” Beomgyu asked, lips curving.

Soobin huffed and turned back to his screen. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” Beomgyu sing-songed.

That was the moment Soobin decided: once they had sorted out the terms of this arrangement, he would never let Beomgyu into his room again. It was too dangerous, brought too many feelings to the surface.

The following day, Soobin had only mildly regretted suggesting to meet in the morning. The sun was beginning to rise but he felt no heat from it, just the sharp bite of winter cutting through his coat. He tucked his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind as he made his way to Beomgyu’s dorm. It wasn’t far, his own sharehouse sat just a block off the main campus, but it felt longer in the cold.

He could have spotted Beomgyu from a mile away. His sleepy eyes were closed as he leaned against a concrete pillar outside the building and his entire frame was dwarfed by the oversized hoodie he was wearing. It was one that he picked up at a concert some other time, one he went to see with Yeonjun because that was their thing. Soobin cast his gaze downward and wondered why he would wear ripped jeans in such cold weather, if the breeze was kissing the skin of his thighs. Soobin then wondered why he paid such close attention to Beomgyu and what he wore at all.

“Gyu,” Soobin called.

Beomgyu cracked one eye open. “You said you were around the corner.”

“I was. I left two minutes ago.”

“Two minutes too long.”

As they walked to the cafe, Beomgyu hooked his arm around Soobin and leaned on him for support. Beomgyu wasn’t Beomgyu in the morning, egregiously grumpy and too tired for his own good. He needed at least three hours to thaw before going out into the world.

“I have band tonight, by the way. We can’t meet up and discuss.”

“That’s okay,” Soobin said quietly, not wanting to speak too loud and ruin whatever peace Beomgyu found against him. “We can do it another night. Take our time, you know.”

“Don’t wanna. I don’t have a date this weekend.”

Soobin caught onto the implication of it. What Beomgyu meant was: I’m free. So be with me. Because you said you would. Because you said you’d take care of me.

Soobin didn’t reply right away. He just adjusted his arm so Beomgyu could lean a little closer and they carried on walking side by side until they made it to the cafe. It was squat in the middle of campus, mossy garden beds and wooden beams to help it stand upright. The fireplace in the corner was already cracking and a fine cloud of smoke hung near the rafters. The insulation was awful in old buildings like this.

Yeonjun, Taehyun and Kai were at their usual table near the corner, the one that wasn’t assigned but belonged to them anyway. No one else wanted to sit there mostly because Yeonjun had stuck so much gum underneath that even the bravest first-year wouldn’t risk sitting there.

As Soobin and Beomgyu approached, Yeonjun leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “No, seriously, guys. Please, take your time. Maybe a leisurely stroll, or a light jog if it’s not too much trouble.”

Soobin rolled his eyes at Yeonjun. “Did you order us drinks?”

“I did,” Kai smiled. “Beomgyu, I know you said you were quitting caffeine but I still ordered you an iced americano. Is that okay?”

Beomgyu, still draped around Soobin like a scarf, smiled and unraveled himself from him. It was the first sign of life from him that morning. “I love you so much, Kai.”

Kai grinned, clearly pleased with himself. Taehyun mumbled something under his breath about enabling addiction, but he slid the drinks across the table anyway.

“So,” Taehyun said, flipping open his laptop. “We have a few weeks until midterms, the presentation is a little bit after that. I’ve nearly finished my section, Beomgyu has too.”

He made direct eye contact with Soobin and he immediately felt defensive. “I’ve been trying.”

“He has been,” Beomgyu said, sipping on his coffee. “I was there last night. He got through almost a paragraph before falling asleep upright. Very impressive.”

“You’re the one who made me ginger tea. You know that makes me tired.”

“It was supposed to calm you, you looked like your head was about to blow.”

Yeonjun put his head in his hand and groaned. “Enough of the weird shit you two have going on. I need this to be done, do you know how many assignments I have due within the week? On top of studying for midterms?”

Kai stifled a laugh. “You mean some of us haven’t started any of our readings?”

“Correct,” Yeonjun said. “Now let’s lock in our parts of the presentation so I don’t drop out by Friday.”

Kai

are you coming over tonight?

pasta nightttt

me

Yeah, I’ll come down.

Is Beomgyu coming?

Kai

he said he would but idk he has a lot of uni work lately

me

He told me.

Kai

well obviously

no need to exert dominance over me, he is yours…

me

I didn’t mean it like that…

Whatever, I’m leaving now.

Soobin went to throw on a cardigan and some slippers — he wasn’t above walking around campus in his late-night best. He quickly typed out a message to Beomgyu as he locked the front door behind him.

me

Are you going to Kai’s tonight?

I can pick you up on the way, we’ll walk together.

Beomgyu was a fast replier, always taking only a second or two to shoot something off to him. When Soobin said this during dinner one night, Taehyun was baffled. Sometimes it took days for him to get a response from him. 

Bamie

yesssiiirrr

come to exit b though

im not in my own dorm

me

Whose dorm are you in?

Bamie

so many questions… so little time

see u soon!

Soobin wasn’t sure why it made him feel nauseous, but it did. He tried to push it down his throat, though, meeting him at the back exit. It was dimly lit, tucked behind the arts building and away from the wind, but even then the concrete always felt damp with condensation. Soobin waited with his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels like he was too restless to be still.

Beomgyu came out with his gloss halfway down his chin and it did nothing to quell that sickness inside of him.

“You didn’t have to come out tonight,” Soobin said.

Beomgyu pulled at the neckline of his hoodie, the zip-down slipping enough to show off the bruise that was a violet petal on his collarbone. “I’m not missing out on pasta night. You know I get FOMO.”

It was best to ignore Beomgyu in moments like this; when Soobin wanted to say something, but knew he shouldn't. So he turned on his heel and walked away, letting Beomgyu jog to catch up.

They walked everywhere — there was nowhere far enough that Beomgyu and Soobin would choose public transport over walking. Their friends all lived together, with a fourth roommate that stayed with their alpha boyfriend more often than not. Soobin might have moved in, had it not been socially taboo to mix sharehouses like that.

So he was passed on to a sharehouse packed with other alphas. The air there was too thick with pheromones, all of them constantly posturing amongst one another. Never Soobin, though. That’s why Beomgyu’s dorm was a safe haven; although, Beomgyu would never choose to live there if given the opportunity. Beomgyu hated the place. He would never have chosen it if he’d had the money, but he made it feel like his own so it felt less claustrophobic.

“You cold?” Soobin asked, side-eying him as they crossed the road.

Beomgyu scoffed, pulling his jacket tighter around him. “Are you offering to warm me up?”

Soobin looked away, jaw ticking. “Not funny.”

 “A little funny,” Beomgyu said, giggling to himself.

They had always joked like that, of course, but now that there was something tangible amongst one another, it felt all too real.

“So who mauled you?”

That caught Beomgyu’s attention. He whipped his head up and raised an eyebrow, mouth widening into the grin Soobin knew all too well. The way a cat might look at a bird with a limp wing. Someone who just found leverage, an inch of vulnerability.

“Mauled? What do you mean by that?”

“You told me that you didn’t have a date this week,” Soobin said. “Was it an alpha from your class?”

“Why does it matter?”

They had made it to the doorstep of their friend's small house, orange light glowing behind the frosted glass, but Soobin didn’t want to knock just yet. “I don’t know. Are we not doing the whole friends with benefits thing anymore?”

Beomgyu blinked. He crossed his arms over his chest, hoodie bunching at the elbows, voice suddenly cooler. “I didn’t think you wanted to do it.”

“I do.”

“You haven’t made any move to arrange anything with me. I’ve been at your place nearly every night helping you with the assignment and you haven’t said a thing.”

“We haven’t had time, Beomgyu. We were going to pick a night to talk about it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Beomgyu said, voice quiet, like someone might be listening in. There was a glint in his eyes, predatory once more. “You’re jealous. Just say that.”

Was Soobin jealous? He wasn’t a very jealous person, at least not anymore. He was jealous in middle school, maybe high school. Not as an adult.

“I’m not jealous. I just,” he paused. “I thought that meant exclusivity. In our own way.”

Beomgyu’s eyebrows knitted together, confused. “What made you think that?”

Soobin flushed red down to his toes. “You said—”

“I said,” he interrupted gently, “that we could use each other while we date around, Soobin. That was the deal. I’m still going to be seeing other people. And so can you.”

That made sense. Of course it made sense. How could Soobin possibly think that his best friend would be his to keep? They hadn’t discussed anything besides that one time on their drunken walk back home, and Soobin thought that somehow meant something? How could he be so stupid?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

Beomgyu stared at him for a second too long and Soobin wanted to hide. Beomgyu was an omega, smaller than he was, but there was no way to skirt around the fact that he held the power in their friendship.

He tried going for casual, but it sounded more strained on the way out. “Should we talk about it more tomorrow night? I’m free. I mean, we should probably talk about what exactly friends with benefits means, right?”

Nodding slowly, Beomgyu tucked his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I’m free tomorrow, I think.”

“Perfect,” Soobin said and knocked on the door.

There was soft padding against the floorboards and the door swung open, Kai’s bright smile greeting them, falling promptly as he looked between them. “What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu’s dorm room was so him that it almost suffocated Soobin sometimes. His scent clung to the drywall like something sticky and it gave him the animal urge to bury his face into the nearest pillow and inhale. He always smelled so sweet and bright despite the darkness of the room

He always kept things low-lit, a few candles in the corners, wax pooled and dripping down onto mismatched saucers. Beomgyu liked soft lighting, moody spaces. He once said it felt like time was slower, suspended in the darkness. The darkness didn’t hide anything, though. If anything, it made Beomgyu glow.

His desk was packed full of blind-box figurines and half open textbooks, stacks of paper left abandoned and ready to tumble over the sides. It was a miracle he could fit it all in the shoebox of a room: a twin-sized bed, a desk and a dresser to put his record player on.

There were many times that Soobin had visited where he wanted to cocoon himself here. The thought from the convenience store came back to him and he wondered if the warmth here was the same for all of Beomgyu, if he was warm anywhere else. It was another thought that he would keep to himself, knowing Beomgyu would make fun of him for it. It would sound too strange, like their relationship was something more.

They sat cross-legged on the floor of the room, half-eaten snacks from 7/11 surrounding them like a snack-seance, the street lights outside the window pulsing through the blinds.

Beomgyu was writing with a glitter pen he’d stolen from Yeonjun, tongue poking slightly out between his glossed lips as he scrawled:

RULES FOR CASUAL SEX (WITH MY BEST FRIEND)

1. No catching feelings
   
   

2. No cuddling (unless hungover or cold or watching something scary)
   
   

3. No kissing on the mouth during sex
   
   

4. No telling Yeonjun (or Taehyun or Kai, ever)
   
   

5. Stop before someone gets hurt.

Beomgyu paused after the last one, tapping the pen against his lower lip. “That one feels dramatic.”

Soobin leaned his head back against the bed frame, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to think about the fact that, after this, he would have sex with his best friend. In his dorm room steeped in Beomgyu’s scent and that cheap Hello Kitty strawberry body spray he swore wasn’t his but always lingered.

“Maybe change that one,” Soobin said quietly. “To… stop when someone doesn’t want to continue. Neither of us is going to get hurt. No need to include that.”

Beomgyu looked back at him with a small smile. “You might.”

Soobin blinked. Froze.

“What do you mean?”

Beomgyu looked infuriatingly beautiful tonight — he usually did, just not like this. He was in a black tank top and matching sweatpants and his arms bulged as he leaned back on his hands.

“What if we hook up and you fall in love with me because I’m so sexy? What then?”

Soobin scoffed, “Not going to happen.”

Beomgyu raised a brow. “So you don’t think I’m sexy?”

“Not what I said,” Soobin pouted, suddenly deeply invested in a stain on the carpet.

Beomgyu just grinned and returned to scribbling on the rule list, but his smirk said everything: I caught you.

He always did this, trying to catch Soobin in something that wasn’t there. It was as if he left breadcrumbs for him to follow, guiding him to answers he hadn’t even meant to voice. There’d been a moment in tenth grade, one of those late-night sleepovers when everything was funnier after eleven o’clock. They’d been playing Truth or Dare and half the group was tipsy on pilfered soju, the other half buzzed off soda and teenage adrenaline.

Beomgyu had leaned back, lazy and red in the face, and asked, “Who would you kiss here if you had to?”

It was a stupid, harmless question. But when Soobin hesitated, looked around the room pretending to consider, Beomgyu had just laughed. 

“You don’t have to say my name if you’re shy.”

The group laughed, Yeonjun the hardest, and then they moved on without Soobin having to answer. But his mind was there the rest of the night and he ruminated on it until it felt like a heavyset weight under his ribs. 

And now, years later, Beomgyu was still doing the same thing. Still teasing, still daring him to admit something that never existed in the first place. There was no world in which Soobin saw Beomgyu as something other than his best friend, an omega who deserved the very best that life had to offer.

Like clockwork, he waved it away like it had never been there. Always breaking the tension with an anyway.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu said. “I think this covers it. Should we add a ‘no spending the night’ rule? We do that already though, so it feels kinda counterintuitive.”

He’d spent too many nights curled up on Beomgyu’s rug, Beomgyu more often curled up in his bed. Their legs would be tangled together by midnight, half-watching movies until the screen turned blue. Soobin knew the shape of Beomgyu’s sleep like it was his own.

“Add it on.”

Beomgyu looked at him quizzically. “You sure?”

A beat. “Yeah.”

Beomgyu didn't say anything right away. Just looked at him, the glitter pen still between his fingers. Soobin forced himself to stay still, though everything in his body itched to shift. To fidget, to get up and walk it off, to do something other than feel the way Beomgyu’s eyes bore into him.

“You’re being weird,” Beomgyu said eventually. Not accusing, just observing.

Soobin shrugged, eyes trained on the paper. “I’m always weird.”

“Yeah, but not like this. Not with me.”

He was right. There was no denying that Soobin felt like he had poured honey on himself and sat beneath a massive oak tree. Heard the hornets buzzing in his ear. What he was doing was giving himself over to Beomgyu and letting him have him. Yet, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was after. Soobin was no good at after’s.

“It’s just a lot.”

Beomgyu tilted his head and got up on his knees, as if to move to him. “What is?”

“This,” Soobin said, motioning between them. “Rules and boundaries and pretending like this won’t mess everything up.”

He watched Soobin carefully. “Do you want to back out?”

He should’ve said yes. Every rational instinct told him to. There were a dozen reasons this was a mistake. It was the world’s way of tipping them toward each other again, a cosmic glitch that pushed him onto his lap. 

“No. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Beomgyu set the pen down and leaned forward, their knees brushing. He was so close Soobin could smell the strawberry-sweet lip gloss he always wore, the Hello Kitty spray. Could smell the way he felt but he tried to push that to the side, felt too intimate to intrude on. 

“You’re not going to lose me, idiot,” Beomgyu whispered. “You’d have to do a lot worse than fuck me for that.”

Soobin choked on a laugh. “God, your mouth.”

“You like it,” Beomgyu said, smiling lopsided.

Soobin didn’t answer. He just stared at him, his best friend, the boy who knew all his passwords and every bad date he’d ever been on, and tried to figure out how to step into this without stepping too far.

But Beomgyu never thought about lines, the ones that were drawn in the sand by society, not them. Because omegas and alphas were never just friends, no, they knew that from the rumors that spread throughout their school. They knew that friendship was holding hands, not grazing fingertips and then jumping backward. That was mostly Soobin — Beomgyu would do it purposefully with a smile and call it an accident. 

They always knew there was a line that they teetered on the edge of. A balancing act; it was a circus act highwire. Soobin’s feet were always too big for it and he was deathly afraid of toppling over the edge. 

What made him most afraid though was the realization that he was already halfway across without noticing. He hadn’t even recognized that he was on the tightrope until Beomgyu’s knobby knees brushed his, the ink of the pink glitter pen staining his fingers.  They were pressed into Soobin’s own thicker knees, the soft pads of them drawing small circles down to his shins. 

“Look at me, Soobin.”

Soobin thought he was looking at him, but his eyes had drifted over to the slow melting of the wax from the candles. When Soobin looked at Beomgyu, the flame flickered in his eyes. 

“It’s just me,” Beomgyu said.

It was just Beomgyu, his best friend.

“I know.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m not,” Soobin’s breath stuttered. “You’re just close.”

As if to add insult to injury, Beomgyu inched closer until their legs pressed against each other. There was a thick layer of cotton through their sweatpants but Soobin felt his heat all the same. It bled through every layer: clothing, skin, muscle, bone. How was it possible to feel Beomgyu in his bones?

“We’re going to have to get closer than this, I fear. Like, all over each other.”

Soobin did fear it.

“Should we talk about our, uh, preferences?” Soobin tried to control the level of his voice. Didn’t want to pitch it too high or too low. It was supposed to be a casual question.

Beomgyu’s fingers were still making shapes on his leg. They dragged along it as if he didn’t care where it was that they went. Soobin felt every sensation, hypersensitive in a way he had never been. 

“Yeah, discuss consent and kinks and stuff,” Beomgyu smiled. He had the casual tone that Soobin was trying for. 

It was so hot in the room that Soobin almost asked him to blow the candles out.

“So what do you like?”

Beomgyu lifted his eyes in thought, the hand that wasn’t touching him brought to his chin in feign thought. Soobin imagined that he didn’t have to think much about this at all. He probably had an itemized list at the ready.

“I like,” Beomgyu started, but his fingers were getting higher on Soobin’s thigh. His fingertips danced across the width of it and then back down to his knee. “I like things I’m not supposed to like. Does that make sense?”

Soobin tried to ignore the ache in his core and he hoped his body wouldn't react to a simple graze of Beomgyu’s hand. “You’ve always been like that.”

Beomgyu grinned. “I know.”

“I’m the same way.”

It wasn’t his fingers this time, but his entire palm spanned his knee. He held onto it, unmoving. “I know.”

There was silence because Soobin didn’t know what to say next. He hadn’t ever done this before and the conversation was making his brain hazy. Maybe Beomgyu had a point about time feeling slower in the darkness.

Beomgyu’s lashes fluttered as he looked down at their joined legs, then back up. His voice came out uncharacteristically sincere. He wasn’t teasing Soobin like he normally was.

“I guess I’ll just be upfront because we can’t exactly dance around consent. We have to be as blunt as possible.” A pause. “I like dominating alphas.”

Soobin tried to find his voice, but it caught in the back of his throat. 

The beautiful boy who had nearly made his way fully onto his lap had just admitted to being Soobin’s biggest fantasy. How ridiculous. Ridiculous that Beomgyu was gnawing at that glossy mouth, working his blunt teeth into his bottom lip, then his chin. That mouth that he had to constantly stop himself from thinking about. His tongue was sharp and witty, and constantly wet. It wasn’t right to be jealous of the food passing through your best friend's mouth, envious of the fact that he was laving at it instead.

Soobin found his voice eventually. “Okay.”

A blink. Beomgyu’s fingers twitched slightly but didn’t move. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Soobin said and he tipped his head back into the bedrame to look at the ceiling instead. His hand crept to Beomgyu’s on his knee, his big hand encompassing it and pressed down hard. He needed to feel Beomgyu in order to stay afloat, even if it was the cause of him drifting away. “I like being dominated, isn’t that funny?”

When Soobin looked to Beomgyu, he was only staring at him with those big eyes. Then his lips inched upward into a cheshire grin and he flipped his hand, palm up. He took Soobin’s hand in his and folded them together. Beomgyu’s soft hand wasn’t small, but it was much smaller than his. Everything about him was smaller, but he was so big. Always the biggest in the room in Soobin’s eyes. 

They had held hands before but this time was different, Soobin was sweating a little more than usual and he wanted to pull away and apologize for it.

“Funny. It’s like we were made for each other.”

It was then that Beomgyu fully seated himself in Soobin’s lap. He climbed on top of him carefully as if Soobin were a startled deer, one leg at a time, bracketing his thighs. His weight was perfect on top of him — he was meant to be there. There was no other body that had been on Soobin like this that had fit him quite as perfectly.

Normally when Soobin was straddled, his omegas were at his mercy. At least that's what they thought at the time. They looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to take control, to lead with authority. They wanted him decisive, dominant. That’s what they had signed up for.

But with Beomgyu it was different. There was nothing tentative in the way he moved, the slow roll of his hips that made Soobin's breath stutter, the teasing touch of his fingers tracing the curve of Soobin’s soft jaw. Beomgyu held all the power sitting in his lap and it made Soobin’s head foggy with anticipation.

“It’s not just dominating alphas, Soobin. You know that, right?” Beomgyu breathed and Soobin could feel it hot in his face. He wanted to open his mouth to suck it in.

“Then tell me what it is.”

Beomgyu’s hand cupped his chin, lifting his head up to meet his gaze. “I want to ruin you,” he whispered. “I want you messy. I want you wrecked because of me.”

What he didn’t know was that he was already halfway there. 

Soobin lifted his hand to lay atop the one cradling his face. “You can use me. Like a toy.”

Beomgyu held his breath at that, pupils blown wide. His eyelashes were so long from this vantage point and the glow from the candlelight cast shadows along his cheekbone.

“You say that like I haven’t been dying to,” Beomgyu laughed quietly under his breath. “I’ve thought about it, you know. What you’d sound like. How you’d look. If you’d beg to plug me with your knot.”

Soobin’s breath hitched.“Would you want me to?”

Beomgyu gave him a sweet look and then leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, their noses brushing. “There's so much that I want. I want you trembling because you're desperate to have me, but you can’t. Not until I let you. Not until I decide.”

His lips ghosted over jaw as he continued, but wasn’t that against the rules? Or did only the lips count?

“And when I still don’t let you? I want you to cry. Not because it hurts. Because you need it. Because I didn’t give it to you. So you cry more.”

Soobin let out a choked sound, he had gone to inhale but it came out as a whimper. His body burned under the weight of Beomgyu, the pressure of him against his cock.

“You think I’d beg?” he asked, raspy, barely there.

Beomgyu smiled. But Soobin knew him well enough to know, again, he was never sweet. “I think you’d do anything I asked.”

And then he pulled away and Soobin wanted his mouth back. How easy it was for Beomgyu to get under his skin…

“Anyway,” as he always said to diffuse tension, like he hadn’t just dismantled Soobin “Is there anything you need me to know? Weird fetishes? Kinks you’ve never explored? I’m down for anything, it’s kind of the point of this arrangement.”

Soobin loved Beomgyu, but he hated Beomgyu. Hated how he could breathe upon his skin and move on. Hated how this was probably nothing to him like it should be for Soobin.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really cared about sex when I’ve had it. I wasn’t... there. I didn’t think about what I enjoyed. I just did it.”

Beomgyu’s pretty face turned soft. “We can work that out together. Experiment, or whatever.”

And when Soobin didn’t respond, Beomgyu pressed his mouth into a line and shuffled off his lap. The sleeve of his tank top had fallen just a little bit from shoulder and his bony collarbone was on display for Soobin to stare at. His skin looked like something Soobin shouldn’t be allowed to touch, tan and smooth.

He dropped to the floor beside the piece of paper and the glitter pen and scrawled down another rule.

6. Talk about everything. Before, during, after. No assumptions.

Chapter Text

When Soobin woke in his bed the next morning, the sheets were cold. He ran his palm down the wrinkles that still held Beomgyu’s shape and slowly rolled over to cover the imprint, fitting himself inside. He was much too big for it, legs too long, shoulders too broad, but he felt closer to his best friend like this somehow.

Soobin inhaled deeply with his face to the mattress. Beomgyu always left his scent lingering in every corner of the room. It was tangy and stuck in his nose, like the dark acacia honey that he brought at the grocery store because it reminded him of Beomgyu.

It was cold and bleak without him to wake up to. Sometimes when he slept over, Soobin would wake up to Beomgyu snoring on the pillow, leaving drool residue on the pillow. There would be times where Soobin would stare curiously, wondering when it would be off-putting for him. Because, really, it should have been. Sometimes Beomgyu’s saliva would dry to his chin and it would cover his cheek and, if it were any other person, it would have been disgusting. But there was something innate within him that wanted to drink it up.

His bedroom door opened and Beomgyu crept in with two mugs of coffee. Soobin’s oversized hoodie grazed his thighs, threadbare with age. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Did you walk into the kitchen like that?”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, placing a mug on the bedside table. “Yeah. Why?”

“Did someone see you?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and collapsed into the rolling chair at Soobin’s desk. He tucked his legs up, crossing his legs at the ankle. The hoodie inched higher, revealing a long stretch of naked thigh. “So what if they did? No one is going to jump me, they’ve seen legs before.”

Soobin huffed. “You know some of these guys would cut themselves at the knot for a crumb of your attention, Beomgyu.”

It was the worst part of living here for Soobin. Every time Beomgyu came over — and he came over often — the other alphas would creep into the common area and lurk in their orbit. A moth to a flame. Some would walk to the kitchen under the guise of thirst. Others would lean against the doorframe and pretend to watch the movie Soobin had put on for the two of them. 

Beomgyu never discouraged them. He’d give them a bright smile and ask, “Wanna watch with us?” knowing full well what effect his scent, his voice, his very presence had. Soobin would tense at how forthcoming he was, but they all eventually would slink away mumbling that they didn’t like romcoms all that much.

Soobin couldn’t blame them. College students, all twenty-something, all alphas, having a beautiful omega in their home… 

“Would you?” Beomgyu asked, smiling over the rim of his mug.

Soobin became still. It was too early for this. “Why would I do that when I already have you?” 

Because he did. Because Beomgyu had been his best friend since middle school.

Now it was Beomgyu’s turn to freeze. Then, he tilted his head and tried to suppress his smile.

“You don’t have me. No one has me, and no one ever will.” He looked down at Soobin’s sleep shirt and sighed, “Especially someone who wears that shit.”

He looked down at himself, at the Lord of the Rings tee that he had definitely worn outside, not a sleep shirt at all. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You’re a loser, Soobin. Just being friends with you makes me a loser by proximity.”

“Liking movies doesn’t make me a loser. A lot of people like Lord of the Rings.”

Beomgyu groaned exaggeratedly and got up off his chair, stretching his arms up and over his head. The hoodie kissed the very top of his thighs and Soobin glanced down at the glimpse of his panties it gave him — lilac, frilly. Then, he lowered his arms and was walking over to stand between Soobin’s outstretched thighs. His delicate fingers came up to the neckline of his t-shirt and tugged at it, the cotton cutting into the skin of his neck.

“Lord of the Pups,” Beomgyu traced the cursive writing on the front. “This one is my favorite.” 

Soobin looked down, eyes unfocused and mind hazy from the press of Beomgyu against him. His fingertip had landed on a Maltese Terrier dressed as Gandalf. It was a white fluffy thing in wizard robes and a small staff. 

He should have said something casual and off-handed, something easy that would ease the tension in his belly. Maybe it would have been better to laugh. Yet, all the words, every noise, was sticky in his throat. 

Soobin swallowed hard. “Looks like you.”

“Hm,” Beomgyu was still looking down at his shirt, at the miniature puppy. “It does, doesn’t it?”

His finger moved down, grazing his abdomen lightly, down his long torso. And then the ghost of his touch was gone altogether. Beomgyu stepped back and gave him a coquettish smile, making purposeful eye contact as if he were observing his reaction.

“You okay?”

It was then that Soobin realized he hadn’t been breathing. He inhaled long, then a stutter of an exhale. “Yeah.”

A slow grin inched its way across Beomgyu’s face and he jerked his head to the bedside table, turning on his heels toward the door. “You should really drink your coffee. It’s going to get cold.”

The quad was packed with a campus tour, fresh faces and bright eyes being the telltale sign of innocence. They didn’t know just yet that college was a honey-trap, one that was set on the precedent that they would amount to something once they had acquired their degree.

It wasn’t a secret that Soobin had never wanted to go to college. He had accepted in his senior year that he would end up in retail, or perhaps working in a bookstore on the corner street. Soobin’s attention span allowed him a few seconds of focus before he eventually turned to something else — gaming with Beomgyu, texting Beomgyu, calling Beomgyu. 

But when his friends had decided to enroll, he did too. All he knew was this: if the people he loved were moving forward, he’d chase their coattails like a loyal ghost, following them to the ends of the earth if he had to. He had landed on Speech Pathology which turned out to be an insane choice for somebody who didn't like studying.

Taehyun was leaning against the railing, squinting out across the grass and gawking at the newbies who wore Omega Pi tote bags. It signalled an allegiance that went against his entire existence. He used to belong to the omega-only frat, but they ended up kicking him out for the benign crime of vaping in the kitchen too often. Every time Soobin had dared to visit, there would be a lemon-lime cloud near the oven. 

“Did you see the kids going to the Omega Pi stall? Why are they multiplying?” Taehyun frowned.

Yeonjun flipped them off as they passed and Kai startled, quickly tugging at his elbow. “No, they fucking suck, Kai. Fuck you, Younghoon!” 

Across the lawn, Younghoon glanced up from behind the Omega Pi table and flipped him off in return.

Soobin kicked off his shoes before sitting down on the damp grass, dropping his backpack to the side of him and pawing through it for his phone. He quickly texted Beomgyu their location. Not that he would need to know, it had been their spot since their own orientation week.

“Don’t start shit so early in the semester."

Yeonjun laid down next to him, shielding his eyes from the cold sun with his hand. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“Where'd Kai and Taehyun go?”

He sat up a little taller and squinted into the distance, “I asked them to get me a coffee. Don’t know where the stall is, let's hope they aren’t making out in a corner somewhere instead.”

“Without you? They wouldn’t dare.”

The three of them hooked up, it was no secret, although they didn’t share much about it. It was the perks of living in the same space. That’s why they had always assumed he and Beomgyu were a thing. As if two people can’t just be friends without the sexual or romantic pretense. Now that they had the friends with benefits arrangement they did, it was harder to make that argument — but it was strictly platonic on Soobin’s end.

“Hey!”

Soobin looked up to find Beomgyu barrelling over to them, a smudge of paint on his jaw and his headphones cutting into his neck. There was no world in which Beomgyu moved quietly; not strolling, but storming, always barging ahead of everyone else. This time he crashed into two people who had made the mistake of crossing paths with him. Like the polite omega he was, he gave them a small apology before trotting over to their spot. He collapsed against the maple tree, the wind carrying the scent of his honey and the leftover turpentine that clung to all of his clothes.

“Just drew a hot naked alpha in class,” he announced, breathless.

Soobin tried not to pout. “Good to know how you’re keeping busy.”

“You’re cute," Beomgyu said, reaching over to pinch his cheeks. "You should apply whenever you’re free, everyone would love to draw you,"

Yeonjun propped himself up on his elbows to give Beomgyu a pointed look. “Are there, like, size parameters for this kind of thing? It’ll get real awkward when Soobin drops his pants and the room goes silent.”

Soobin groaned, ‘Yeonjun…”

“I’m just saying,” he said slowly. “I feel like a huge cock might scare some people off, you know. It wouldn’t scare me off, but definitely some people.”

Beomgyu didn’t look away from Soobin, “Dunno. I think I could manage just fine.” Then, as if he hadn’t sent Soobin into a spiral, he pulled out his notebook and charcoal. “How was everyone's day? Has Taehyun seen the line for Omega Pi yet?”

“God, don’t remind him. He probably isn’t back because he is over there telling the pledges that Younghoon is a seedy little character...”

Beomgyu hummed as a response, beginning to smudge lines and shapes into his sketchbook. Soobin tried not to pay too much attention to him, opting for rolling a strand of grass between his fingers instead. 

“Don’t you have a book in your bag?” Beomgyu asked quietly. 

Soobin tilted his head in question, “Yeah, why?”

“Read. Don’t just sit there doing nothing. You’re making me feel awkward.”

“I’m not even looking at you.”

Beomgyu jutted out his lower lip, nodding, then turning his head downward to his book. “I know.”

He didn’t quite understand what had just happened, but Soobin rifled through his bag anyway for his book. There was just enough sunlight that had escaped through the clouds to make his eyes not strain so hard against the words; he had given up glasses entirely at the beginning of high school. Hadn't even gone to the optometrist for contacts, entirely too lazy to do anything about it.

Yeonjun kept rambling as Soobin read and Beomgyu drew — something about his theatre troupe. Taehyun and Kai still hadn’t returned. The winter air was chilling but it hadn’t yet begun to snow. It was perfectly serene to be sitting on the quad with his friends.

When Soobin eventually looked up at Beomgyu, he had his lip pulled between his teeth in concentration, thick brows furrowed. It was a wonder that Beomgyu had been single throughout his college years especially when he shared studios with other alphas. How could they see him so passionate and not want him badly?

He couldn’t help himself, he leaned over for a peek at what he was drawing. Soobin had expected dismembered body parts, anatomy of the alpha he had seen during life modeling. 

But it was a hand, shadowy and black. The knuckles were thick and led to thicker fingers. Nail beds perfectly pushed to the cuticle. A soft focus on the skin that stretched along the joints. Each ridge, line, crack, so distinctly familiar.

Soobin swallowed.

“You’re drawing me?”

Beomgyu’s charcoal stilled. For the first time in a long time, he was bashful. “Your hands,” he said. “They’re nice when you aren’t trying to control them. When they are holding books.”

Soobin stared down at his own fingers, suddenly unsure what to do with them. He curled them against his thigh, self-conscious by nature.

Beomgyu caught it quickly. “Don’t move yet. I’m almost done.”

Yeonjun had said something teasingly, but it was water in his ears by then. Everything felt like he had been pushed under a wave. He tried to keep still for Beomgyu, allow himself to be looked at. Tried harder to control the twitch of his fingers.

Hair fell into his eyes as he drew, and Soobin wanted to sweep it away, but he wasn’t allowed to move yet. Beomgyu tucked it behind his ear and gave him a small knowing smile. He put his charcoal down on the grass and wiped at his brow, a smudge of char left behind.

“Done.”

The mall was one of the worst places Soobin could ever be in the world, second only to Beomgyu’s bedroom. A huge entity that loomed only to eat you up, overstimulating in the masses of people that bumped shoulders. 

But Beomgyu was leading him into a seedy store, nets in the storefront with gothic graphics and imagery. The glow inside was low and purplish, lit more by LED strips and candle-shaped bulbs than anything overhead. A skull rotated in the window. Everything smelled like patchouli and the kind of leather that clearly wasn't leather at all. Beomgyu worked at Eldritch Emporium on the weekends, only getting three hour shifts if he was lucky. He wasn’t the best piercer out of the bunch, made more for customer service with a face like his. He was good for business no matter where he was.

Beomgyu shoved at the alpha tidying the counter space. “No way you’re piercing me today.”

Soobin tried not to bristle when his coworker turned and he was not only tall — not taller than he was — and handsome. Sharp jaw, multiple piercings, nails painted matte black. He looked up from wiping down the glass box of jewellery and smiled wide at Beomgyu.

Soobin paled in comparison: messy, geeky in posture and in dress, too good.

“Gyu,” he smiled. “No shit. Belly piercing today?”

Gyu.

Beomgyu leaned on the counter, palm on his chin. “Thought I’d come in and see who's on shift first, decide after sussing it out."

“Well then, you must be glad it’s me.”

Soobin was shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was like he wasn’t there. He read the man’s name tag: Lim Jimin. Lim Jimin hasn’t even acknowledged his presence.

Soobin coughed and they blinked from their stupor, the two of them turning in unison. “So, are we doing it or what?”

“Oh shit, sorry man.” He looked between Beomgyu and Soobin with a raised eyebrow, “I didn’t mean anything by it. Let me go clean my needle.”

Then he was gone and Beomgyu was turning to him with a frown. 

“What was that about?”

“What was what?”

“You cockblocked me, freak.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

Beomgyu scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, now he probably thinks we’re married or something.”

That didn’t sound half bad.

Beomgyu stamped all the way to the back room and Soobin followed behind, led away from the dark motifs around the store and into something more like a doctors office. The walls were bare besides the laminated posters outlining hygiene procedures and aftercare instructions. A tray of tools sat on a metal bench and Soobin had to look up at the ceiling to not faint at the sight.

Beomgyu sat pretty on the client chair, lifting his hoodie to his sternum, his tan torso exposed. Each breath he took in made his ribs lift, stomach rising and falling. Soobin wanted to reach for it and run a hand over the thin skin if only just to feel the shape of it in his lungs.

Besides that, it was perhaps the first time Soobin had seen him under someone else’s control. Maybe even a little nervous at the prospect of getting poked with a needle, especially one of this size.

His hands were palm-up on the armrest and Soobin fought the urge to take them in his. That was until Beomgyu’s bottom lip jut out and he shook them, reaching for him. “Hold them, it’s going to hurt.”

Soobin turned to Jimin, who was eyeing them closely as he sterilized the needle. Had Beomgyu ever spoken about him at work? If he had, it couldn’t have been much. The way he’d flirted with Jimin when they walked in felt like they had done it many times before. Comfortable, easy.

 Soobin wondered what the two of them looked like now: best friends, or something else entirely. He so desperately wished for the latter, mostly because it would scare Jimin away. He wasn’t right for Beomgyu.

“You’re a baby,” Soobin said, but took his hand anyway.

Beomgyu’s hands were damp in an anxious way, and if it were Jimin holding it, he would have jerked his hand back, Soobin was sure. He squeezed it, a thumb glancing over Beomgyu’s knuckles to soothe him. They were sharp and bony, the skin around it so thin and delicate that it rolled around the bone. Soobin knew every line by now. So many years of holding this hand and memorizing the way the three lines ran along his palm. He ran a finger over the curve of the life line, the fork in the heart line, the deep bend in the head line. 

“Keep doing that,” Beomgyu hummed.

Whispering, “Feels good?”

Beomgyu closed his eyes and relaxed his jaw, throat bobbing as it unclenched. Soobin looked at his torso, the same one he had seen so many times before, and he swallowed hard. Beomgyu and Soobin had done swimming lessons together in middle school, had showered together after PE, had seen each other strip to change their outfits, and yet it had never felt as intimate as this. Sure, Soobin had let his gaze settle upon his bare skin for a few seconds longer than he should have back then, but it had never caused his stomach to heave so aggressively. 

Because Beomgyu was older and his body had matured; a soft belly that had faint indent of muscle when he inhaled, skin so smooth that he wondered what the texture was like if he touched it. Would it be soft under his tongue? He would kiss it first, a small peck before he bit into it. It would be so plush between his teeth, nothing like the thin skin of Soobin’s own stomach — too toned, too muscular, too long. Beomgyu would be so small beneath him. He imagined kissing a path around his waist, fifty times, maybe fewer, before he could span it completely. 

Jimin coughed and Soobin jumped, his hands slipping from Beomgyu’s. He was staring between them, “Sorry. You just need to step back a bit.”

And Soobin complied, stepping back to put enough space between himself and his thoughts. He folded his arms and leaned back against the far wall.

Jimin snapped on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed an antiseptic wipe, wiping the area around Beomgyu’s belly button gently. Soobin could see every twitch of muscle, every shallow breath Beomgyu took as the cold hit him. His hands lingered too long, it could have been a second or an hour. Soobin wasn’t possessive, but his fingers twitched at the contact between them.

“Are you 100% on this, Gyu? You have to be ready for the upkeep. No wearing mesh or fishnet for a while,” Jimin smiled.

Beomgyu’s eyes cracked open. “You going to watch, Soobin? Or faint?”

“I’ve seen worse than someone getting a piercing.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a once over, “Big talk for someone who looks like a sourdough starter. Want me to pierce yours next?”

Soobin scoffed and leaned back into the wall, almost toppling over as he lost footing. “I think I’d rather die."

Beomgyu barked out a laugh and Soobin knew exactly what he was thinking. Of course Soobin wouldn’t want a piercing. He was predictable like that. Safe.

Jimin was smiling, too, and it was at his expense.

“Fine. I’ll get one.”

They both whipped their heads around to give him a pointed look. Beomgyu frowned, “He was just messing with you, you don’t actually have to.”

“Not today, obviously,” Soobin spluttered. “Just… I’ll get one. In the future.”

“No peer pressure from us, blondie,” Jimin grinned. He was clearly entertained by the back and forth, glad Soobin was no competition.

“It’s not peer pressure. Just get him over with so I can go home and do my assignment.”

Jimin shrugged, turning back to his kit to collect his needle, threading the ball through. 

“Wait.” Beomgyu looked over at Soobin, “Don’t listen to him. Come back and hold my hand.”

Because at the end of the day, no matter the bravado, no matter the teasing, Beomgyu always turned to him.

Soobin walked over to the chair and took his hand once more, “Baby.”

“Not a baby, that thing is huge,” Beomgyu sulked and turned to look at the needle.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly. Just for him.

And Beomgyu, for once, didn’t have a comeback.

The process felt longer than it should’ve. Mostly because Beomgyu flinched every single time Jimin so much as moved the needle an inch closer. His reactions were loud and dramatic; yelping, snapping his head away, mumbling curses under his breath. The grip on Soobin’s hand never faltered. It was iron-clad and his knuckles blanched white. Soobin knew he’d leave the store with crescent moon indents pressed into his skin.

“Alright, don’t move this time,” Jimin warned for the third time.

Beomgyu opened his mouth to respond — likely with something sarcastic — but the needle had already pierced through.

He screamed.

“Stop whining,” Soobin pouted.

It came out too soft, too concerned. A gentle scold, more of an apology than anything else. Beomgyu didn’t answer him, just squeezed tighter and leaned his forehead against Soobin’s shoulder. Soobin let him and ran his fingers through his long hair.

“You’re doing a good job, Bam,” Soobin whispered. “Almost done.”

Beomgyu didn’t speak, but his head nodded faintly against Soobin’s shirt.

When Jimin finally pulled back, Soobin allowed himself to look down from the corner he had distracted himself with. There was a hole in the roof with mold growing from it, not quite sanitary enough for Soobin to feel safe getting pierced there. When Soobin’s attention turned to Beomgyu’s abdomen, there was a short moment in which he was sure he was going to lose consciousness. Not because it was particularly bloody; but because Beomgyu’s navel glistened.

It was only a small starter piercing, a barbell sitting inside of him. The skin around it was taut, a little pink, still shining faintly with the antiseptic Jimin had used. The metal of the two balls glinted under the lights and Soobin’s mouth went dry, then flooded with saliva all at once, like his body couldn’t decide how to handle the sight.

It was a multitude of things, really, if Soobin were to think about it. Even though he mostly didn’t want to think about it at all. 

The way Beomgyu’s stomach moved as he caught his breath. The way his abs tightened slightly every time he inhaled. The glossiness of his sweat clinging to his skin.

Soobin turned his head away to look at something else, anything else.

But it was too late. The memory of it had been already seared and branded into his skull. He wasn’t sure it would ever leave.

Beomgyu looked down at himself. “Fuck, I’m sexier than before. I don’t know how I do it.” Then, as if by magic, as if he could always tell when it was all too much for him, he grinned at Soobin’s pained expression. “Come on, alpha. It’s time to book your appointment.”

Bamie

y r u not talking to me

[mini golf]

[cup pong]

[8ball]

[archery]

[darts]

me

Stop sending me so many games, my phone is going to overheat.

Can you please do your work?

Bamie

no i physically cannot bring myself to

and u should be understanding

look at the group im in

Soobin looked up from his phone and scanned the room, making eye contact with Beomgyu in the corner. He was slouched discreetly in a dark spot on a circular table with a group of people who seemed to know each other well. If Beomgyu’s silence and fidgeting and their combined laughter meant anything.

Me

Why don’t you try and talk to them?

Bamie

y r u texting me and not talking to YOUR group?

Touché

It helped that they had similar course structures. Beomgyu, technically a Fine Arts student, had more flexibility to explore other areas of interest. Soobin, in his own Speech Pathology undergrad, had taken an odd route into a photography elective at the behest of Beomgyu in his second year.

Their photography portfolios were mostly just an excuse to take pictures of each other: on their trip to Vietnam that they had taken just the two of them, when Soobin had joined Beomgyu in his hometown Daegu, at nighttime when they felt most brave to capture quiet moments.

Soobin looked up again. Beomgyu was already staring, chin in hand, phone tilted just under the table. He raised an eyebrow like he knew Soobin was thinking about him.

His phone buzzed.

Bamie

save me. they just asked me to sing fall for you by secondhand serenade 

fully expected me to break out in BECAUSE TONIGHT WILL BE THE NIGHT THAT I WILL FALL FOR YOUUUUUU!!!!

they see ripped jeans and a pair of boots and shit their pants

me

They would probably bully me for my Bucky t-shirt.

Bamie

/i/ bully you for your mr barnes tshirt

even though i do find him a little sexy..…

come sit with me no one even likes u over there liek i do

me

No.

Meet at the library after this?

I booked a study space

Bamie

thank fuckkk

ur the best

ill suck ur dick for real to show my gratitude

Soobin flinched, nearly dropping his phone, and scrambled to hide the screen against his thigh. He leaned his elbow on the table, palm pressed against his cheek to hide the flush that painted its way across it. Fuck Choi Beomgyu.

Especially now when every thought was of him. It used to be the minutiae of everyday Beomgyu; how Soobin would notice his lashes flutter when he laughed, or how his eyes lit up when he spoke about something he loved. How he tucked his hair behind his ear when he was thinking too hard. Those were the kind of passing things that a friend might notice.

But somewhere along the line, those innocent thoughts turned into whatever this was. Wanting to trace the slope of Beomgyu’s nose, touch the faint mole beside his mouth, the dip of his collarbone. Into thinking about how delicate his ankles looked in those weathered Docs.

It was definitely the ankles that did him in. The day he caught himself staring, Soobin knew he was in danger. Best friends don’t get fixated on ankles. Does anyone get fixated on ankles?

And now Beomgyu had allowed him to see his soft belly, the piercing that was now stuck in his navel. He hadn’t listened the entire class because it plagued him. He could only think about the way Jimin had placed his hand so gently on his hip while inserting the needle and how Beomgyu’s grip on his hand eased because of it. Couldn’t stop thinking about how it was probably beet-red and that he wanted so badly to kiss it better — in the way a friend would apply a bandage to a grazed knee.

Books being packed into backpacks and the jingle of keys cast him back to reality, his group beginning to shuffle out of the class. 

“Come on, alpha. Up and at ‘em,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Soobin groaned, bones creaking as he stood. He almost toppled back into Beomgyu. “I didn’t do anything that entire workshop.”

Beomgyu heaved his tote over his shoulder and grabbed for his hand, lacing their fingers together. It wasn’t so much as pulling, more dragging him through the door and toward the quad.

The library was a phantasm of a life that existed before them. The entire university was built around it as it stood squat in the middle. More cathedral than a study hall, less of a book archive and more a space for he and his friends to sit around and do nothing. Soobin didn’t love college, but he loved the library. It was the one thing he would miss when he left. Its gothic brilliance, its hush.

Their particular spot was the seventh floor of the library, the one with study pods that provided a little bit of respite from other people. Some privacy.

As they made their way toward it, Beomgyu swung their interlocked hands back and forth. “So what are you working on today? You need any practical help with tongue placement?”

Soobin shot him a look, rolling his eyes when Beomgyu smiled sweetly at him. “I’ve got a replica for that, thanks. Your tongue’s too small anyway. Useless for demonstration. Wouldn’t even see it.”

“You’ve been looking at my tongue? Oh my god, ” Beomgyu gasped theatrically. “Pervert!”

Soobin didn’t dignify it with a response. He just shoved open the glass pod door and held it, watching Beomgyu breeze through like he hadn’t just accused him of oral fixation in a public library. He didn’t have one. Obviously.

“Thanks,” Beomgyu said sincerely.

The door clicked shut behind them and Soobin realized quite quickly that he had booked the wrong space. The pod was too small. Barely enough room for two people and a pair of laptops.. There was a couple of crumpled sticky notes that still clung to the corner of the whiteboard, someone else’s handwriting. None of their doodles in the corners.

“Bam, I won’t fit in here, we have to go somewhere else.”

Beomgyu, who had already made himself at home along the small banquette, looked at him quizzically. He patted the small space next to him. “I’ll scootch over.”

Soobin eyed the space. Then eyed him. 

“There’s no amount of scooching that’s going to make my ass fit there.”

Beomgyu blinked. “Stop humble bragging and sit down.”

“Bam.”

“Sit down and shut up.”

And he had just enough authority in his voice to make Soobin place his laptop onto the table and attempt to dwarf himself to fit next to him. There was no space left between them, and nowhere else to go. His thigh pressed firmly against Beomgyu’s and he could feel his heart rate jump.

Beomgyu didn’t move.

If anything, he seemed to lean into their touch, his arm brushing Soobin’s as he reached over to open his bag. “See? Fits fine.”

Soobin glanced down at their legs. “It feels like I’m sitting on your lap.”

“You say that like it’s a problem,” Beomgyu grinned and before Soobin could hide his blush, he was onto another topic entirely and scouring his laptop for a game to play.

If not for Beomgyu, the pod would have been silent. There was only the hum of the air conditioner and his voice and Soobin could feel himself relax, all the anxiety from the day melting from his bones.

He could barely focus on his phonetics textbook with the way Beomgyu had nudged himself further into him. It was under the guise of stress, as if his Roblox game had him on the edge of his seat, but Soobin knew better. 

“You’re crowding me,” Soobin mumbled. He tried to keep his eyes trained on the chart in front of him: oral stop, nasal stop, trill…

“No shit, there's no room in this pod.”

Then to prove a point, he let his leg fall heavier against him. His foot nudged Soobin’s under the table. It was subtle at first, a slight pass against the side of his heel. The second time was with the tip of his boot and it travelled up the side of his ankle and lifted his jeans, only slightly.

“Don’t distract me, Beomgyu.” Soobin tried his best to be assertive but it came out pitiful.

And Beomgyu said all too simply, “Kind of the point.”

Soobin could move. Soobin could leave. Soobin could tell him no. Yet, he never did. It didn’t seem possible when Beomgyu was so close, all his warmth, all his attention on him. 

Because they didn’t need to do this, it wasn’t a part of their arrangement. They were going to have sex. It wasn’t whatever this was.

He was prettier up close — the kind of omega that an alpha would kill for, start wars for.

A firm knock on the glass door startled them both and they quickly turned to two students as they passed outside the pod, laughing like they’d caught something scandalous. Soobin couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but they didn’t understand the context. They didn’t know that he and Beomgyu were only friends.

A breath, “Back to work.”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu replied, embarrassed..

This pod was too fucking small.

Bamie

dont pick me up…. #busy

ill get there by myself so dont worry about me

me

What do you mean?

I won’t let you walk alone at night.

Bamie

dont alpha me

i can survive on my own

and someone has already offered to walk me there

ur stressing ur pretty little head for no oreaons

reassn*

reason*

Soobin knew what game Beomgyu was playing. Beomgyu always did this. Pushed just enough to get under his skin, but never far enough to start a fight. The bait was obvious: someone already offered. He wanted Soobin to ask who?  Wanted him to care. 

He hadn’t known that it was all a power play until their freshman year of college when he had sent a Snapchat of a hickey on his neck with the caption you know how to hide these things?

That night, Soobin turned off his phone and left it on read. He didn’t know why it caused the itch of irritation that it did, the kind that he felt like a cough at the back of his throat. Just knew that it did.

Because Beomgyu had always wanted a reaction from him.

me

Alright, see you there.

Beomgyu read the message and didn’t respond.

When Soobin arrived at the omega sharehouse, Kai glanced behind him. “Alone?”

"Beomgyu said he had better things to do. He’ll be here later," Soobin replied.

Kai clapped a warm hand on his back, pulling him inside. “Less drinks for him then. You want a bottle of soju, or we’ve got Taehyun’s dad’s ancient whiskey? Kind of tastes like how it would feel to swallow a hot coal.”

He was talking fast to try and make it less awkward, but Soobin didn’t flinch. Didn’t feel anything, or at least nothing that really mattered in the grand scheme of things. Beomgyu was Beomgyu. You couldn’t smother a hurricane like you could fire, it had to roll on by.

Their house was neat for a group of men and warm in a way the alpha sharehouse never managed to be. Where the alpha place was cold tile insulated by gout and scattered gym gear, this felt curated. Loved because they loved each other.

Yeonjun had the better taste of the three of them, so he was ultimately in charge of decorating the space. Fairy lights hung in their lounge area along the rafters, woven between beams like stars. Like Soobin’s bedroom, there was an abundance of terracotta-potted plants and a thrifted wooden coffee table that he had helped install. Was it incense or their scents that made the place smell so good?

Soobin didn’t bother to reply, already fishing through the fridge for soju. He cracked the cap and let the condensation cool his warm hands. “God, I fucking needed this.”

“Language,” Yeonjun called from the bathroom, almost silenced by the white noise of the hairdryer.

Taehyun was already sitting on their tattered sofa as he sipped on his neat whiskey. Ever the refined gentleman. He was setting up a card game and was fanning them out in his hand, making them disappear up his sleeve intermittently.

“I poured some soju into a water bottle the other day and took it to class. Couldn’t get through contractual law without it,” he said, taking a long sip of his drink. “Is it too much to ask for a Kahoot? Like one little dopamine hit before I sentence myself to alcoholism?”

Soobin flopped onto the couch opposite of Taehyun as Yeonjun walked through the hallway with fluffy red hair, the ends of his mullet flipped at the ends, speaking to someone on the phone. “Can I be honest? I’m so fucking sick of my theater group. We are a month away from the production and barely any of them speak to me anymore. Like I’m contagious, how’s that for teamwork and group morale?”

He turned to look at them and then mouthed: Beomgyu.

Beomgyu’s hookup couldn’t have been that good if he resorted to calling Yeonjun mid-stroke.

Soobin took his own swig of soju and wished for the corners of his mind to blur, if only just for the time being. He needed to stop wondering where Beomgyu was and what round he was on.

By the time Kai had come back into the room with a board game and extra drinks, they had all postured themselves around the coffee table. Soobin had never cared for board games but Kai couldn’t drink without them. He was a product of loud friends and louder sisters, someone who needed a collective rather than singularity. Kai never cared for the actual act of drinking, but he craved the community of it. The games were what made him feel at home — so they played for him.

They played two games of Uno and were halfway through Jenga when Beomgyu arrived.

The door swung open, shoes kicked off at the mat. Beomgyu waltzed in like he owned the place. And maybe he did, because everyone froze. Soobin’s second bottle of soju was still tucked into his mouth and he couldn’t bring himself to swallow.

Beomgyu was wearing an off the shoulder crop top with sweatpants that hung just low enough to see the jut of his hip bone. His piercing gleamed under the fairy lights. “Hi, ladies.”

Yeonjun guffawed. “What the fuck is in your belly button?”

Funny how profanity suddenly didn’t matter when it came out of his own mouth.

Beomgyu skipped up to the couch and planted his palms in a triangle over his stomach to frame it.

“So,” he started. “It’s obviously still healing, yes, I know, don’t yell at me, but the balls were hideous. I swapped them for this cute little butterfly. See? Pink. Adorable.”

Soobin still hadn’t swallowed. The soju was burning the roof of his mouth now, stuck halfway down his throat. All he could think was: so that’s where he was. With Lim Jimin . Letting him touch that piercing. Swapping jewelry. Laughing. Flirting. While Soobin sat like an idiot, waiting for him.

He finally pulled the bottle away, eyes lingering on the tan swathe of skin. It never got easier. “You shouldn’t be touching a fresh piercing."

Beomgyu didn’t even look at him. “Thanks, Mom.”

Soobin’s fingers curled around the bottle as he took another long swig. He couldn’t help the tick of his jaw when he noticed the overwhelming scent of alpha that was carried into the house. Jimin’s scent wasn’t pleasant, a sour wine or rotten bark. It covered the sweet smell of honey that normally emanated from Beomgyu. He wanted it back desperately.

When Beomgyu flopped onto the floor beside him, Soobin’s eyes wandered around the room, feigning nonchalance. “Did you go back to the mall?”

Beomgyu grinned at the opening. Soobin had given him a clear thread to pull.

“No, why?”

A beat. “Where did you go to replace your piercing?”

He turned to him, and knew instantly that it was a mistake. Beomgyu was devastating today. His long bangs were tucked behind his ear, exposing his long neck as it led to his glossy collarbone. His face was bare besides the smudged eyeliner from the night before.

Soobin’s eyes glanced down, for only a breath, to his mouth. A blush pink, parted enough to see his wet tongue. When Soobin looked back into his eyes, they were shining. Caught you again.

“Jimin’s place. He has a little apartment. It’s nice, you should visit sometime.”

Soobin downed his bottle in one smooth, burning gulp. It wasn’t about Jimin. It was about the intimacy of being in somebody's space, the scent on his clothes. Not jealousy, more spite.

“I have better things to do.”

Beomgyu reached for a shot glass, filling it with tequila. “What, like playing LOL? ” He downed it. “Besides, you don’t have to worry. He was gentle with it. Real careful with the clasp. He asked first.”

“I bet,” Soobin smirked, tongue caught in his cheek.

“Beomgyu, the shots are for later. Don’t have anymore,” Taehyun frowned.

Then the electrical wire between the two of them was snipped, the fire snuffed out. Soobin blinked back into his body and felt shame crawling up his spine. He shouldn’t have said what he did; he sounded every bit the possessive alpha that he loathed. Soobin had let it show. The bite in his tone, the territorial sharpness. When did he start caring so much about who Beomgyu saw?

Maybe it was just more painful when he wasn’t there to watch from the other side of the bar.

Soobin cleared his throat. “What game are we playing with them?”

Yeonjun fanned out a deck of cards and held them up. “Bought these the other day because they looked more fun than Jenga. Has questions on it, you know, text your ex-situationship. Stuff like that. Stupid, but fun.”

God knows they had a lot of them to choose from.

Beomgyu leaned forward, arm brushing Soobin’s thigh, and reached over his lap to grab a spare shot glass. He placed it down in front of him and filled it with tequila. “Not later. Now. While Soobin’s feeling honest.”

“Are you sure?” Kai asked, glancing sideways at Soobin. “We could play Monopoly.”

Beomgyu got on his knees and shuffled over to Yeonjun, pulling a card from the deck. When he turned back to move back to Soobin, he tried desperately to not glance: at his abdomen, his sweatpants that had dipped too low. Tried not to think about the fact that he was clearly not wearing anything beneath them.

“Nah, boring. I’ll be brave and go first.”

Yeonjun whistled under his breath and leaned back against Taehyun, “Let’s go, bear.”

Beomgyu sat with his legs crossed and cleared his throat. "Who would you hook up with in this room?”

The room paused as if it, too, was waiting for the answer. Taehyun’s eyes darted to Soobin and then back to the thread that had come loose on his pants. He and Yeonjun moved in unison to pick at it, distracting themselves from the tension.

The longer it took for Beomgyu to answer, the more anxiety beat against Soobin’s ribs. Why did this make him so nervous?

Beomgyu hummed, “You know, I’ve thought about this.”

He didn’t doubt it.

“Kai.”

Kai’s head whipped up, eyes wide. “What?”

Beomgyu bit back a grin, teeth just peeking out. “You’re tall. Strong. And I bet you’d be sweet about it.”

Across the room, Yeonjun doubled over in Taehyun’s lap who mumbled something under his breath. Soobin’s jaw clenched as he nodded, lips jutted out. Beomgyu’s pretty face slid back to him.

“Why do you look disappointed?”

“I’m not,” Soobin shrugged. “You and Kai would look good together. He follows orders just like you want.”

Kai scoffed and Beomgyu grinned. “Yeah. He would, wouldn’t he?”

And just like that, the static between them was back.

The next card was pulled but Soobin didn’t hear it. 

He wasn’t lying, Beomgyu and Kai would look good together. Soobin could imagine them against each other. He could picture it vividly, Kai’s hand being guided down Beomgyu’s stomach, past the piercing, to his core. Beomgyu’s thighs twitching, lips parted, eyes glazed. How wet it would be and how Kai’s brows would furrow in concentration. Beomgyu would whimper as he twisted his fingers just right inside of him, and would call his name. His voice was vivid. “ Soobin…” 

Because the image had morphed without him meaning it to. It was Soobin underneath him, fingers pruning with Beomgyu’s wetness, wrist sore.

There was a tap at his ankle. It was gentle, as if they were scared of spooking him. Soobin blinked and saw Kai looking at him curiously.

“Your turn, Soob,” he said quietly. “I’ve been calling your name.”

Next to him, Beomgyu was watching. Not smiling, nor teasing. Just waiting.

“Where’s the cards?” Soobin asked, taking a shaky sip of the bottle next to him. He didn’t know if it was his but he needed to ease the dryness in his throat.

Beomgyu grabbed one from the pile and gave it to him. “You okay?”

Soobin took it from him and tried to clear his mind, but the alcohol had made everything wavy. He flipped it over and read it: text your first love.

“Shot.”

The group of them guffawed. Taehyun slid the tequila over to him, but Yeonjun was faster, snatching it back. “Absolutely not. It’s the first card, don’t be a pussy.”

“I’m not doing it,” Soobin shrugged. He held the glass out to Kai, who poured soju in without a comment.

“Wait.”

Soobin turned to Beomgyu who had something wicked in his eyes; the kind of look that never meant anything good.

“To make it more interesting,” he started. Then he laid back against the rug, one arm behind his head, making the hem of his crop top ride up above his ribs. “Why don’t you do a body shot?”

It was one of Beomgyu’s dares. Where it normally felt like they were playing chess during most interactions, moments like this felt like he had swiped every piece off the board. Anything to make Soobin react.

“I’m not putting soju in your freshly pierced belly button, Beomgyu.”

“Why not?”

“Do you want staph?”

He snatched the shot glass from Soobin’s hand, pouring some of its contents into the dip of his navel. Some of it overflowed and the liquid traced a line down his lithe waist. Soobin wanted to lick it off him. He wanted to crawl over and press his tongue to Beomgyu’s skin and taste the salt and tequila and something only Beomgyu could give him.

“Be good,” Beomgyu said lowly, “and do what I say.”

There was silence in the room, their friends' mouths parted as they stared, looking as if they had stumbled into something too private.But Beomgyu didn’t look away. He was staring up at Soobin like he already knew what came next.

It was a beautiful trap. If he declined, he was a coward just as they all had pinned him as, too affected by his best friend. If he gave in, he was weak in another way entirely. Either way, Beomgyu won.

So, shouldn’t he just shed his need to control and do exactly what he so desperately wanted?

Soobin got on his knees and leaned over Beomgyu, whose chest rose with every shallow breath. He leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss into the skin just below the butterfly. Too intimate for how tipsy Soobin felt, too romantic for it to be only friendship. He shouldn’t have done it but he couldn’t control the need to feel the softness of his stomach against his mouth.

 Then he hovered, hesitating for only a moment, before dipping down. He wrapped his mouth around the small pool of soju in Beomgyu’s navel and sucked. Beomgyu gasped, his hand shooting up tangling in the back of Soobin’s hair. It should have been over quickly, but Soobin stayed there for a few seconds longer, his tongue collecting any remnants of liquid that remained. Warm, wet tongue and the cool of metal against his teeth. Soobin’s hand came up to grab his waist, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss against it.

When Soobin lifted his head, licking the corner of his mouth, Beomgyu was still holding him. His eyes were wide and his pink lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them.

The salt on his tongue, the warmth of Beomgyu’s skin, the quiet sound he made that only Soobin could hear.

For once, Soobin had left Beomgyu speechless.

“Okay,” Yeonjun said slowly. “Kai, you’re going to have to wring out your mattress after they sleep over tonight. Good luck.”

The bedroom door closed behind Soobin clunkily, catching on the skin of his elbows as he fell back against it. 

Beomgyu was already sprawled on Kai’s bed, the mismatched patchwork quilt bunched beneath him. He looked impossibly relaxed: arms folded behind his head, one knee bent, grinning like he was sufficiently entertained by Soobin’s fumbling.

“Why are you locking it?” Beomgyu said with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Expecting something?”

“Fuck off,” Soobin mumbled. He could already feel his cheeks heating, pink and rosy. Some alpha he was — flushed at the slightest jeering.

His back was pressed against the door, chest heaving with what felt like adrenaline and a bit of nausea. Nausea from the alcohol, nausea from the fact that he had finally pressed his lips to a square of Beomgyu’s skin tonight. He could still feel the metal of the piercing against his plush lips, its cool copper biting into the warmth of it. Soobin wanted more of it. In his mouth, on his tongue, the feel of it against him…

“Come here.”

Soobin hadn’t realized that he had drifted off, eyes focused somewhere in the corner of the room. When he looked to Beomgyu, he was smiling like he saw right through him.

“Why are you thinking about me when I’m right here?”

Soobin swallowed hard. His hands had curled into fists at his sides, as if the want in his veins could be squeezed from his fingertips. Beomgyu was still lying there, back arched ever so slightly, that ridiculous crop top grazing higher up his ribcage. “You don’t know what I’m thinking about.”

Beomgyu’s half-lidded eyes looked him up and down before settling on his lips. “I always do.”

Was that true? It could have been. Maybe that’s why it was always so easy for Beomgyu to burrow himself beneath his skin, the muscle. He was always so tightly wedged, a hair refusing to be plucked. 

“You’re always so hesitant, even when I give you the upper-hand on a silver platter,” Beomgyu continued. “I thought we agreed on an arrangement?”

“We did.”

“Then what is stopping you from coming to me?”

Soobin, even in his alcohol-induced daze, knew exactly what it was. It tumbled from his lips, “Will we be friends after this? I want to be able to still look at you.”

Beomgyu’s expression changed, his eyes becoming more like that of a doe. Wide, sparkling. Gentle.  “Oh, Soobin.” He held out a hand, an open palm. “Let yourself give in like you want to.”

And it wasn’t just about desire and lust, although, sometimes it was. It was about trust and allowing oneself to not see the future as something foreboding. It was giving in without losing yourself. About choosing someone, not because they made it easy, but because living cautiously had never given him anything to be excited about.

So, Soobin walked one foot in front of the other until he reached Beomgyu’s parted thighs, and took his smaller hand. It was so soft and completely overwhelmed by Soobin’s. How could someone so graceful, so beautiful, be in control of the moment?

The thought sent a full-body shiver through him and Beomgyu watched him curiously before squeezing his hand between his fingers, then pulling him down on top of him.

Soobin awkwardly collapsed onto the bed, one knee pressed into the edge of the mattress and the other straddling Beomgyu’s thigh. His palm was just beside Beomgyu’s ear and they were so close now that they were breathing each other's air.

“Pretty alpha,” Beomgyu whispered, one hand at the curve of his waist, the other against his jaw. “I’ve always thought that. So pretty. What alpha has a face like this?”

He wrapped his legs around Soobin’s middle, effectively trapping him against him. Soobin looked down between them and his heart stuttered. The hem of Beomgyu’s crop top had ridden up, revealing a sliver of skin, the soft line of his ribs, the edge of a nipple.

It was so tempting, he could simply touch it. That torso that had infected his senses, the skin that was still warm on his tongue. The memory of it lived in his mouth

And Beomgyu knew, because he always did.

“You can touch me, you know.”

So he did. Fingertips tapping along the slope of Beomgyu’s ribs, pausing to commit the texture of his skin to memory, then following to the dip of his waist. Beomgyu was the most beautiful omega he had seen with clothes, but without them, he could only imagine.

He followed his waist to the piercing, rolling it between his fingers.

“You never told me if you like it or not,” Beomgyu whispered. When Soobin looked up, was it a glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes?

His voice had never been so hoarse when he spoke. “I love it,” Soobin replied, “so much.”

Beomgyu’s lashes fluttered, mouth parting like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. Instead, he leaned forward, his breath brushing against his cheek.

“Then why don’t you show me more often?”

Soobin’s eyes never left his abdomen, fixing his position to sit fully on his thighs, hands running down the line of his soft tummy and then over his belly button. “You’re my best friend, best friends don’t do that.”

Beomgyu snorted, tipping his head back against the pillow. “Friends with benefits do.”

“But we’ve never done this before,” Soobin said quietly. “I’m not good at making the first move.”

Beomgyu nodded. “I know, baby. Can I call you that?”

Baby.

The word melted off Beomgyu’s tongue like treacle; sickeningly sweet and light, dark and tempting. There was nothing Soobin wanted as much as being somebody's baby, even if it was someone who wasn’t Beomgyu. Had always wanted the omega’s he fucked to say that he was doing good, to tell him what to do next. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, you can.”

And that was all his best friend needed.

“Up,” Beomgyu ordered gently, patting his chest.

Beomgyu must not have expected Soobin to be so easy, because when Soobin sat back on his heels quickly, his brows knitted together. Then, a lopsided grin. The kind that means in Beomgyu-speak: this is going to be fun.

He tapped at his thighs and Soobin clambered off of him. So big and clumsy, he wished he moved like Beomgyu did. He got himself off the bed and stood opposite him, hands on his chest. From this angle, Soobin had to look down to make eye contact with him; mischievousness gleaming there. “What now?”

Beomgyu pushed against his chest, hard, and Soobin fell onto the mattress, the weight of it making the bed frame scrape into the wall.

“You don’t need to think so hard when I’m in control. Don’t ask what’s next. I’ll lead you there.”

Soobin swallowed, hard. “I’m trying.”

Beomgyu was crawling on top of Soobin, a pleasant beat in his cock from being so close to him. 

“So annoying. For someone so submissive, you’re really bad at it."

“I’m not submissive, I just like…”

Beomgyu jutted his bottom lip out, pouting. “Submitting?”

Well, when he said it like that.

“Kind of par for the course when you’re submissive, you know. The whole submitting thing.”

Soobin ran a palm over his face, “Alright. I got it, oh my god.”

Laughing, Beomgyu guided Soobin’s hands to the hem of his crop top. 

“Take it off.”

He tried not to hesitate, if only because he didn’t want Beomgyu to tease him any more than he already was, and obeyed. Soobin peeled it up and off his body, revealing his bare chest from the hips up. The butterfly that glittered from his navel, the pink of his nipples, this elegant collarbone, there was no space on Beomgyu’s body that he didn’t want to lap at.

Before Soobin could speak, Beomgyu tugged him forward by his belt, their chests and hips brushing. And then, before slipping it out of the loops of his jeans, Beomgyu looked up at him. Soobin’s jaw was slack as he stared at that mouth of his, bitten red. 

The most divine omega, the only omega.

“Tell me if you want to stop, Soobin. We can end this now.”

Soobin had to inhale, for he hadn’t breathed in what felt like minutes. Hadn’t breathed since he had met Beomgyu, it felt like. It had been caught in his throat since he was thirteen and he had never understood why.

“Keep going,” Soobin tried to make his voice sound certain, sure. Beomgyu had to know that he would never give this up. “Please.”

His hands hovered awkwardly over Beomgyu’s hips like he didn’t know what he was allowed to touch. Beomgyu fixed that. He grabbed Soobin’s wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head with one hand.

“Then, no talking now,” Beomgyu whispered, sliding his thigh between Soobin’s legs. “You will only touch me when I say. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Soobin’s eyes fluttered shut, exhaling the softest whimper. He nodded.

“So good for me.”

And then he leaned down until they were chest-to-chest and arched into him. Beomgyu’s thighs tightened around his waist, skin hot and unbearably damp between them, and his free hand moved down the front of his chest to tug Soobin’s Star Wars t-shirt over his head.

“This wasn’t doing much for me, anyway,” he laughed. “Although, I’ve kind of always liked the nerdy vibe you had going on.”

Soobin choked out a laugh of his own. “I don’t have a nerdy vibe, that was special edition. It's cool in the community.”

“Sure, baby,” Beomgyu said as he leaned down and nipped at the corner of Soobin’s jaw. “Coolest guy I know, now sit back like the good alpha you are and shut up.”

And Soobin shut the fuck up.

It wasn’t smooth and it felt clunky to be with Beomgyu in this way. Not because of him, but because Soobin had never stepped into this role. He had only fantasized about it, he felt like a virgin more than anything. He wasn’t: he’d slept with at least six omegas, one alpha too during a lonely, blurry winter break. But none of that seemed to matter now. Because with Beomgyu, he moved like he’d forgotten everything. Like his hands didn’t know where to touch, like his body didn’t trust itself to be good enough.

He didn’t want Beomgyu to think he was bad at this.

But it didn’t seem like he minded much, because he was kissing down Soobin’s sternum and down his abs. “Fuck, I’ve always been so jealous.”

“Your body is better than mine,” Soobin tried.

“I wasn’t saying I was jealous of your body.”

His fingers reached down between them and began to unzip his fly, taking the waistline and peeling his jeans slowly from his thighs.

Beomgyu was stripping him. It was an image that Soobin wouldn’t have been able to conjure even in his deepest fantasies. Even the wet dream that had him shooting up in bed; the ones where he would trace a finger down the seam of his boxers, feeling the sticky residue left in the wake of it.

His long hair hung over his dark eyes, the strands wispy and messy — Soobin wanted to brush it off his beautiful face, but touching wasn’t allowed. Soobin hadn’t been given permission yet.

“You’re pretty like this, Soobin,” Beomgyu said. His fingers danced along his bare skin. Across his pec and circling over his nipple, moving down to his abdomen and outlining the lines of muscle there. Soobin couldn’t bring himself to inhale lest he disturb the moment. “You know, I had a friend in high school who had a massive crush on you. He thought you’d pin him to a wall or something, have your way with him.”

All the muscles within Soobin contracted as his hand drew nearer to the bulge in his pants, fingertip following the line of hair from his belly button down. When he looked at Beomgyu, he was staring at his body like a predator does their prey. No omega had ever looked at him like that, like he owned him. 

When did Soobin realize that he so desperately wanted to be owned?

“If only he could see you now, so obedient for me. The big, bad alpha. Putty in my hands,” he whispered, lips brushing the skin of his neck.

Soobin’s whimper was low, throaty, and Beomgyu lifted his head from the hollow of Soobin’s neck. A smile spread across his face slowly as his palm slid down to cup his clothed cock.

It was then that Soobin knew that there was no going back. Although, he should have known before, back when they were writing the rules to their arrangement. But how could he have understood the gravity of having his best friend in his lap? Beomgyu was all warm skin, warmer breath. Prettiest person he had ever known. Soobin was struck with the disturbing realization that there was nothing that he wouldn’t do for him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why aren’t you replying to me?”

But Beomgyu didn’t need to hear him speak.

He already knew he had him.

Soobin managed to, anyway. “You told me to shut up.”

Beomgyu’s small hand began pumping him through his boxers slowly. He could barely wrap his hand around Soobin's cock and the difference in size made him twitch, a flush heating his cheeks at Beomgyu’s giggle.

“I didn’t mean it,” he smiled. “I’m greedy. I want to hear you speak and to know what part of you is most sensitive, makes your voice crack mid-sentence.”

It didn’t take long. Beomgyu rubbed the flat of his palm in a circle around his tip, right at the wet spot where he leaked precome. Soobin tipped his head back and moaned loud. His hips arched up to chase the feeling, or to run away from it. He wasn’t sure which it was.

Beomgyu’s eyes lit up and he turned to the door, as if ready for Yeonjun to crash through it. “Don’t be too loud, they are going to hear.”

“It hurts. Can’t control it," Soobin whined.

Beomgyu nodded, but continued his assault on the head of his cock. This time he used his thumb and index finger to roll it between, using Soobin’s own wetness to help the slide. “You’re shaking.”

Soobin buried his face in the pillow, his head turned to hide the way his face contorted. He hadn’t ever felt this sensation before. Not only pain, not only pleasure, but an intense force in his belly.

“I-I’m not used to this.”

For the first time that night, Beomgyu looked down at him sincerely. He was nervously biting at his bottom lip. “Me either. We can learn together, right?”

Soobin’s entire body lit up when he delicately reached into his underwear and fully wrapped his hand around his naked cock. He pulled it out and laughed out loud at the way it slapped against his lower stomach, red and hot.

“I’ve never seen you hard, how strange.”

Following his line of sight, Soobin blinked down at his cock. It wasn’t anything remarkable: thick, veined, it curved upward which was something his omegas normally liked. But Beomgyu was salivating.

“Touch me again,” Soobin breathed.

Beomgyu looked up at him, eyes so dark in the low light of the room, lips parted just slightly. “Say please.”

It was something Soobin would have to get used to. Everything that he had been taught an alpha was, everything that he should never be. Alphas were not meant to beg. They don’t yield. They don’t fall at the feet of their omega. So why did his cock drool more when Beomgyu told him what to do?

His tongue ran over his lips, wetting them.

“Please, Beomgyu.”

And Beomgyu smiled in satisfaction because that was it. Soobin was finally giving in.

“Good job.”

His hand was a fist around his shaft, pulling upward and then back down to the base, and when Soobin jolted and grabbed Beomgyu's thigh, he batted it away. He stroked him faster and, with each pass, he applied more pressure. Soobin’s lower body tensed as his hips lifted off the bed to chase his hand; the sounds that left him were no longer words, but broken, desperate sounds that grated his throat.

“Look at me, baby.”

When Soobin did, Beomgyu was watching him intently. Like he couldn’t quite believe he was on top of an alpha, making him feel this way. Like he couldn’t believe that it was Soobin beneath him. 

Beomgyu spat down onto him and the saliva was a slow line from his plush lips to the head of his aching cock, wetting his hand and making the glide impossibly overstimulating. His fingers ran over the veins that pulsed on his shaft, over the flared head, then down to the base where he brushed his fingers through the soft patch of hair there.

“You going to come for me? I wanted to play with you for a bit longer, but you are twitching in my hand.”

Soobin could barely breathe, blurting out, “It’s not enough.”

Beomgyu tilted his head curiously and slowed his hand, passing the wet palm of his hand over his tip and rubbing it along his slit enough to have Soobin writhing on the bed. 

“What would help, baby?” he asked. “My hand isn’t enough?”

It was too embarrassing to admit out loud. Hurt more to realize how obsessive Soobin got about the slightest things, seeing something and immediately fixating on it. It consumed him. For a long time it was Beomgyu’s lips; that was the worst one for a long time, always catching himself staring at them. Sometimes it would be during conversations, other times he would zone out during class thinking about their shape. Beomgyu noticed quickly but had never called him on it — he wasn’t the kind of person who embarrassed others publicly. But he used it to his advantage. Biting down slowly on his bottom lip when he wanted something, running his tongue across them before speaking, pressing them together as he tilted his head just so. 

Soobin always let him have his way, too enamored by his lips to listen to the words that passed between them.

Now, ever since Beomgyu had gotten that god forsaken piercing, Soobin had dreamed every day about it. Fantasized, stupidly, shamefully, about how it would feel to rub himself against it. How the metal might catch just slightly on the sensitive skin of his cock.

Soobin squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the embarrassment that clawed at his chest, leaving red claws mark across it in the form of a blush. 

Beomgyu leaned down until they were a breath away, his clothed core hovering just over Soobin’s cock. How desperately Soobin wanted to lean in, taking his lips in his mouth…

“Tell me what you want, Soobin.”

But kissing was against the rules.

“I want to finish on your stomach.”

Beomgyu stilled. Eyes wide. And then a dangerous smile curved across his face and Soobin knew he would never be able to live this down.

His eyes turned to his stomach, down at the shimmery butterfly, and then back to his face. “Seriously?”

“Beomgyu…”

And he had to hold onto Soobin’s chest to steady himself because he was laughing so raucously, shaking violently from the sheer velocity of how funny the revelation was. Or maybe not a revelation, but a confirmation.

“I fucking knew it,” he tried to catch his breath. “I knew you liked it. Wore this top just to see if you’d stare, you’re so predictable. I kind of wanted you to come in your pants from the body shot and when you didn’t I was like, maybe I was misconstruing his reaction and he actually hates it.”

Soobin groaned and ran a hand along his face. “God, you’re so annoying. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You want to finish on my piercing!” Beomgyu sing-songed. 

He let go of Soobin’s cock just long enough to lift his shirt and tug the waistband of his shorts down a few inches, just enough to reveal the piercing again. The skin around it was soft and pink, still tender from how new it was. Beomgyu trailed his fingers over it lightly, teasing himself.

Then he looked down at Soobin’s cock, standing hard and flushed, precome smeared slick between his belly and Beomgyu’s knuckles.

“You still want it?” His voice was low, more serious. “Want to come on me?”

Soobin tried to meet his eyes. Beomgyu’s were utterly alive, shining with newfound ambition. There was nowhere to hide underneath his gaze so he swallowed his pride.

“Yes, please.”

“Yes what?”

“Please, Beomgyu. Can I come on your piercing?”

Beomgyu bit those beautiful lips again and it wasn’t to tempt him this time, but as if to ground himself in this reality. A reality in which Soobin was begging for him, desperately asking for permission. His thighs clenched around Soobin’s own that he straddled.

“Okay,” he whispered.

He shuffled back slightly, carefully positioning himself before grabbing Soobin’s cock once more. This time he didn’t stroke. He lined it up with the plush skin of his stomach and lowered his hips so it ran along the piercing.

Soobin shuddered.

The cool chill of the metal against the hot tip of his cock, the give of Beomgyu’s skin beneath him. The weight of Beomgyu on his thighs and the way he slightly rocked into him as if for his own relief. The way Soobin had to plant his feet on the mattress in order to buck up against him. 

“F-fuck, Beomgyu," Soobin keened.

Beomgyu’s eyes were glazed over, lips parted and the palm that held Soobin’s cock steady was trembling slightly. Soobin wanted to assure him that he could touch himself, too. That he didn’t need to hide the way he was subtly grinding against him. That he wanted him to feel good too. That he could use him if he needed to. That Soobin liked when he did.

“So good for me, baby,” Beomgyu breathed.

Soobin was being so good for him, pliant and fisting the sheets to keep himself from touching him. His legs burned from the way they thrust up but he couldn’t stop himself, especially when his omega groaned so loudly when he grinded into him just right.

“I know you’ve thought about me, Soobin,” Beomgyu said breathlessly. “Probably got off while imagining this. What is it that you think about? Just this?”

Soobin could barely comprehend what he was saying, breath caught in his throat, head shaking. “I don’t — I haven’t.”

“Liar. Where did you finish when you fantasized about me?”

It was obvious that he was asking Beomgyu to enact his fantasies and he wanted to catch Soobin in it, get him to finally admit it. There was a throb in Soobin’s lower belly and he knew he was undeniably close. 

“Fucking up against my stomach like a dog, especially while our friends are just in the other room. I think it's cute. Have you always wanted this that bad?” Beomgyu could barely speak, sentences broken in the middle and pitched up in a moan. 

Soobin choked on a groan, barely able to keep his eyes open, mind blurry.

“Come on me, Soobin,” Beomgyu whispered, ragged. He pointed at the butterfly that dangled idly, “Right here.”

And it was over as soon as Beomgyu offered himself up to him, he should have known he wouldn’t last long like this. Especially with his best friend and his swollen mouth, sweat beading on his brow, humping a wet spot into his own shorts. With the next pass of his cock over the long plane of his abdomen, Soobin burst ropes over it. It was thick and hot and painted everywhere he had wanted to: the subtle lines of his abs, the peak of his nipples, along the metal of the butterfly and pooling inside the dip of his navel.

He came with Beomgyu’s name on his lips like he sometimes did in private and Beomgyu shuddered against him, collapsing onto Soobin’s bare chest and writhing up and down, chasing his own high.

It was the hardest he had come in his life, if he had ever come at all with his previous partners. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? Overstimulating, intense, all-encompassing? Or was it just because he shared the experience with his best friend, the person he has shared so many vignettes of his life with?

Beomgyu still shook from the aftershocks, twitching slightly against him. His voice cleared as his climax waned. It wasn't romantic, not intimate at all:

“Ew. I feel gross.” Soobin went to wrap an arm around him but Beomgyu pushed him off, “Rule number two, dumbass. No cuddling.”

He rolled off him and groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. His chest still heaved to find his breath. A fingertip danced across himself and along the mess on his stomach. 

Half turned on, half disgusted, “Stop playing with it, that’s gross."

“Then come clean me up.” Beomgyu turned his head to look at him, lower lip jutting out in a pout. “It’s drying.”

He was infuriating. Impossible. Utterly divine. Still flushed pink from his orgasm, cheeks warm. His audacious mouth was like a cherry and Soobin couldn’t help the need to lick the blood from where he had bitten too hard. He ached at the sight of him.

Soobin rolled onto his side and ducked down, letting his tongue drag slowly across Beomgyu’s stomach and scooping the streak of his own cum into his mouth. He kissed the skin open-mouthed and wet, sucked softly at whatever he could reach. Beomgyu shrieked when Soobin’s tongue dipped into his navel, right where it pooled.

“Not like that, you big perv!”

“Sorry,” Soobin tried to control his grin, but his dimples gave him away. “I’m too lazy to get up for wipes.”

Beomgyu shoved at his shoulder, but it lacked any real power. He was still shaking. Still glowing from the inside-out. Still letting Soobin touch him like this.

Soobin kissed one more open-mouthed kiss into his hip and rolled onto his back. They were shoulder to shoulder and the heat that radiated off of his best friend wrapped around him like a second skin. He could have laid like that for days.

“You’re still not allowed to cuddle me,” Beomgyu frowned.

“This isn’t cuddling. I’m just laying near you.”

“Practically all up on me.”

“Good god, whatever will we do.”

“You’re such a loser.”

“A loser who made you come in your pants.”

“Go fuck yourself, you came from humping my stomach and that’s way more embarrassing.”

“Maybe. You want to watch Star Wars in chronological order?”

And Beomgyu groaned as he always did, but they watched it well into the night, still drunk on the soju and each other’s touch. Soobin tried to ignore the fact there was something building between the lines; but it was hard when Beomgyu was once again snoring on the pillow next to him.

Chapter Text

Bacon grease, burnt butter and the sweet scent of vanilla from the pancakes that were steaming on the counter had created a cloud of steam in the small kitchen. Soobin had woken before Beomgyu and the others, sunlight only just beginning to peek from beyond the windows, and he had been overcome with the urge to prepare something for them. 

It was more a compulsion, possessed by something else entirely. It led him to the fridge, to the stove, pulling utensils out to measure ingredients to the milligram. Soobin didn’t even really know how to cook. All he knew was that Beomgyu would be hungry when he woke up.

He pulled up a recipe titled Best Pancakes You’ll Ever Make and then followed it to the minutiae, adding chocolate chips because he knew Beomgyu would only eat them if they were interesting. Soobin wasn’t going to make bacon and eggs, but he figured maybe Beomgyu would want something savory after the sweet. He told himself it was just considerate. That he’d do the same for anyone. But still, he plated things a little too neatly. Thought a little too long about timing them perfectly with Beomgyu’s wake-up.

“What are you doing?” 

Kai padded into the kitchen, hair stuck in tendrils to his forehead despite the winter chill that ran through the house. He was hot-blooded, eternally warm and Soobin could only imagine Taehyun’s — and sometimes Yeonjun’s — struggle while sleeping beside him.

Soobin swatted his hand away when he reached for a pancake, “Don’t touch them.”

“Why not?” Kai yawned, rubbing the sleep from one eye. “They all for you?”

“They’re for us.”

“Then why can’t I have one now?”

“Beomgyu isn’t awake yet.”

Kai gave him a long look, now too awake for someone who hadn’t even brushed his teeth. “Neither are Yeonjun or Taehyun.”

“Yeah, I know.”

A beat of silence.

Kai grinned slowly, catching him in it. “You know you don’t have to impress him, right?”

Soobin didn’t answer. Just turned back to the stove, flipped a piece of bacon, and pretended the sizzle was louder than it was. 

Truth be told, he was still dazed from the night before. Not because he had a hangover, no. He wished he woke up with an ache, one that told him that he had been drunker than he actually was. Maybe that would have made it all better; knowing that the compulsion to be deep inside his best friend was brought on by the salacious itch only alcohol can give you. Instead, Soobin woke up clear-minded and warm, his arms wrapped around Beomgyu’s middle. He was holding him tight even in dormancy as if nothing could ever bring them close enough. So close to his best friend that he could smell the scent of his shampoo on his scalp.

This daze had been brought on from having had Beomgyu’s calloused hand wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it for all he was worth. Soobin had even leaned over and licked his own cum from his belly button… 

“Are you okay, Soob?”

When he turned around, Kai was looking at him with a furrowed brow. Concerned. 

“Yes, of course. Why?” Soobin asked abruptly.

“You looked like you were a second away from putting your hand on the pan.”

He was. He could still do it now, no one could stop him. Maybe if Beomgyu rushed him to emergency he would forget about last night and it would all be a distant memory. 

“Just thinking about the fair.”

Kai set himself up at the counter, leaning delicately on his elbow. “Why did you say yes? You should have said you are busy helping out with our set.”

He piled some scrambled eggs onto a plate and shoved it across the counter toward Kai, more forceful than he meant to. “I need extra credit,” he said flatly. “I’m about to be put on academic probation. My results are shit.”

Kai blinked. The frown line between his brow deepened, and for a second Soobin hated him for how soft his voice went. Like Soobin needed to be coddled. “Seriously? But you’re always at the library. I thought… have you not been submitting anything?”

Soobin busied himself with the towel on the oven handle, flattening it even though it didn’t need straightening. He tugged the corner, again and again, as if it could keep his hands from shaking.

“I get too distracted,” he muttered.

Kai was silent, but Soobin didn’t have to look up to know what face he was making. The one that understood too much.

The one that knew distraction had a name, and that name was Beomgyu.

“Did I wake up at the losers' convention?”

And that same omega, who always woke as if he were a bear rousing from hibernation, dragged his feet to the stools tucked into the kitchen island. He flopped onto one and picked a pancake up with his fingers, breaking small pieces off and biting at them. Soobin could only exhale when he heard a tiny noise of assent, a happy mmm at the taste of it.

Kai, watching this entire exchange with raised eyebrows, finally reached out for one himself. Soobin gave him a nod. Permission granted. Kai wasted no time and folded one in half, stuffing it into his mouth whole. 

“Do they taste good?”

Beomgyu shrugged, “I’ve had worse. I’ve also had better.”

“These are really good, Soobin,” Kai said with his mouth full. “Seriously. Best I’ve had in a long time.”

Shooting him a look, Beomgyu wrinkled his nose. “Don’t give him a big head. It’s big enough already.”

“If you didn’t like them, you wouldn’t be eating them,” Soobin grinned.

Beomgyu stuck his chocolate-covered tongue at him. 

They made easy small talk for a few moment, but Soobin couldn’t help but watch the way Beomgyu popped another piece into his mouth. How he licked his thumb clean after, the smudge of chocolate painted against the curve of his bottom lip. He wanted to reach over and swipe it off with his thumb. Intrinsic nature, the part deeper down, wanted to run his tongue over it and see if it would taste different when it was from his mouth. If not even morning breath could stave off his desire, then what would? Where were Soobin’s boundaries when it came to Beomgyu? It seemed as if there was none; a symptom of their years of friendship, seeing each other for everything they were — naked, utterly vulnerable in all senses.

When Soobin came back to, Beomgyu’s eyes were more awake, glimmering in his direction now.

“So you cooked all this, huh?”

“He did, I saw him,” Kai smiled.

Beomgyu reached for the syrup and a plate, pouring a puddle onto it. He swiped his piece across until it was half-coated and lifted it to his mouth. The sticky residue clung to the corner of his lips, catching where the chocolate had melted. He grinned as he chewed. Eyes still on him.

“Like our own little house husband,” he said, a voice like honey. “Isn’t he, Kai? Should buy you a slutty apron to walk around in.”

Kai choked on the piece of bacon he was tearing into. Soobin’s eyes snapped to Beomgyu, wide. But Beomgyu was unbothered, eyebrows raised in challenge. He was teasing, sure — but it was the kind of teasing that hit bone. Saying the quiet part out loud. You’re waiting on my every whim. You’d do anything I asked. And the worst part: Soobin knew he was right. And Beomgyu knew he was right too. Had always known. When did he first realize?

Soobin swallowed hard.

It was unbearable, the way Beomgyu saw through him. But it was also the only kind of honesty Soobin could stand.

Kai stood, finally catching his breath. He had obviously realized that he had accidentally stepped into something far too intimate. “Alright, I’m heading back to bed before Taehyun wakes up and realizes I started breakfast without him. Pray for me.”

Soobin nodded, but he kept his eyes on Beomgyu. The door shut behind Kai with a soft click, and suddenly, the room felt as if it had shrunk around them. Just the two of them, like it had always been.

“I was joking,” Beomgyu eventually said, careful.

Soobin leaned against the counter, arms crossed in a loose fold — the only way to keep his hands from trembling. “Were you?”

Beomgyu was silent for a few seconds, too many, and then he leaned over, too. He wrapped his thin fingers around Soobin’s wrist and moved them down to his fingers. Lifting his hand, Beomgyu guided his index finger to the corner of his mouth and grazed it across the mess on his lips. Chocolate, syrup, some of his saliva, coated the pad of it. Then, Beomgyu brought it to his mouth and closed around it. He licked the syrup from his finger, swirling his tongue around it and Soobin tried not to knot in his pants from feeling the hot warmth of his mouth enveloping him. Without breaking eye contact, Beomgyu pulled off with a pop and dropped Soobin’s hands back to the table. He had lost all feeling in his body so it hit the laminate with a thud. 

Beomgyu stared at him, searching for something. Then, finally, shrugged. “Half. You do have the house husband vibe. Kind of pathetic. Kind of sweet.”

Soobin’s voice was hoarse when it came out. “Fuck off,” he coughed loudly to clear the scratch in his throat.

“No, it’s cute,” Beomgyu said softly, standing now, his plate forgotten. He walked over to him, syrup still on his breath. “My alpha house husband, so devoted to me that he cooks pancakes the only way I like them. Cute.”

“I just thought you’d be hungry.” Soobin swallowed. And then, because he was feeling brave, “You can’t be like this. It’s friends with benefits, you should only be saying this stuff at night.”

Beomgyu stepped into his space. He was close enough that he caught the faint sheen at the dip of his collarbone. Dried there, unmistakable under the morning light. Something neither of them had properly cleaned off the night before. Something too intimate to speak aloud.

“I am hungry,” Beomgyu said, looking down to his lips.

Being this close to him was a slippery slope, Soobin knew it more than anyone. Especially when he could bend down and connect their lips; it would be so easy to lean down and capture them in his own, taste the remnants of breakfast on his tongue. It was the one rule that Soobin constantly thought about breaking — only goaded further by Beomgyu, who loved to teeter on the edge of that line. 

“Did you enjoy breakfast?” Soobin whispered. The simplest of questions, shrouded to hide what he was really asking.

Was last night okay for you? Did I do well? Will you have me again after this, even now that the experience is over and I’m no longer new and shiny?

Because Beomgyu had finally gotten a taste of what he was never allowed to have: Soobin had always been the one toy he wasn’t allowed to play with. Now that he had him, what was next?

Then, as quickly as he came into his space, Beomgyu stepped back. Exhaled like he was shedding something. Raking his hands through his hair, “What time is our lecture? You want to play League in class?”

Chat transcript:

thelegendhimself

L

ez

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

nice int

Thelegendhimself

?

?

?

get better

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

get fucked

thelegendhiself

dont mind if i do

They were aggressively tapping at their keyboards, a full setup on their small lecture hall trays. Both of them had brought their full setup: mouses, mouse pads, wired headphones. There was no way they would remember the content of the photography lecture after this. They weren’t alone — the beta next to them was watching a show on his laptop, too.

Soobin jumped in his seat when his Xayah made it halfway down the midlane, destroying more turrets than Beomgyu had so much as touched. He was so close to his nexus he could almost taste it.

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

kill diff

Thelegendhimself

[prof

look ed a tyou

i cant spell and play

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

ㅋ

Soobin glanced up just long enough to see Beomgyu look at the podium at the front of the lecture hall, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. He used the split second of his distraction to push through to Beomgyu’s side.

Serialkillerchoibeomgyu

beomgyu

Ff

The sound of minion waves mixed with the sound of their professor’s droning about lens flares. Soobin’s CS score ticked higher and, for once, victory was in sight.

And then he felt it.

Beomgyu’s hand had slid underneath the desk and made its way onto Soobin’s lap, resting at the inseam of his jeans. His inner thigh was static where his palm pressed; the smallest bit of pressure, only touching him slightly. Soobin couldn’t help but choke on his own breath, faltering just enough for Beomgyu to sneak a skillshot through.

“Bam,” Soobin hissed. “This is cheating.”

Without an answer, Beomgyu continued to rub small circles into the denim. His thumb brushed upwards every time, getting too close to where heat was beginning to pool. Yet his eyes were fixed on the screen as if he wasn’t systematically breaking Soobin in with one hand.

Soobin’s ult was ready. So close. He tried to focus, but his eyes were intermittently darting to Beomgyu’s creeping hand and the screen. His hand twitched on the mouse.

Misfire.

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

Fuck off

thelegendhimself

L + ratio + next patch

serialkillerchoibeomgyu

Get ur han n dn off me

Im serisos

thelegendhimself

or what?

Then, Beomgyu’s fingers danced up Soobin’s thick thighs and landed on his zipper, playing with the metal teeth of it. Soobin’s breath hitched. His fingers fumbled on the mouse, and then dropped away entirely, his hand dropping down to cover Beomgyu’s. On instinct, not out of resistance. His palm was clammy, his grip loose. 

“Beomgyu,” he warned.

Beomgyu finally turned to look at him. The corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile.

VICTORY! 

The win screen lit up on Beomgyu’s laptop, bright and illuminating the side of his face.

“GG. You’ve never played well under pressure, have you?” Beomgyu whispered.

Soobin stared, stunned. He was still holding his wrist, still hard under the table. Because Beomgyu had won just as he always had.

Soobin had to buy his own decorations for the college fair. A tedious task for someone who didn’t know much about his major. Yeonjun had jokingly — not so jokingly — said that he was picked by his course advisor because he was hot. They had taken photos of him for the poster, donned a uniform he hadn’t known existed and tried to pose candidly. Despite his failing grades, he had been tasked with teaching hundreds of people what a swallowing disorder was.

Not only that, but he would have to create his own booth. Which would have been great if he knew how to do stuff like that; rearranging, organizing, color-matching. But he didn’t. Sometimes the image of how something should look would get muddled in his mind and everything would begin to smear. So, when Soobin imagined what a Speech Pathology booth might look like, the only thing that came to mind was that there should be a mouth.

When he thought about who to contact, Yeonjun came to mind. Always so good at putting things together. His mind was a hive for that sort of thing, constantly arranging things as they should be and creating patterns.

He instead called Beomgyu. Who wasn’t flashy like Yeonjun but whose every movement was purposeful. Clean. Delicate. He was the kind of person who folded receipts and tucked them into color-coded drawers, despite his outward appearance being so extravagant.

Soobin hadn’t even needed to explain why he needed help. Beomgyu had simply said, “I’ll come after class,” like he’d been waiting for the call.

They had walked around a craft store for what felt like hours as Beomgyu dropped items into their cart. Flowers, tablecloth, miniatures and lamination sheets. They must have been a sight: Beomgyu in his leftover eyeliner and knee-high combat boots, Soobin in his Minionstee and scuffed sneakers.

When Beomgyu’s focus began to wane and began yawning into his sleeve, Soobin pushed the cart to the register.

“I’ve got it,” he said.

Beomgyu blinked. “You’re paying?”

“It’s my booth. You picked it all.”

Beomgyu’s eyes cast down to the total on the screen, then to Soobin’s wallet, then to his face. His voice was soft when he spoke, “But you don’t work like I do.”

Soobin laughed, “Did you think you were paying for all this?” He picked up both bags, ignoring the way Beomgyu looked down at the veins bulging in his forearms. “You aren’t my sugar mommy.”

As they walked out, Beomgyu nudged his shoulder. “Fine, Mr. Money Man. Let’s stop at a grocery store. You can stock my fridge as penance.”

“Penance for what?”

“For dragging me around town, obviously. For me being your little interior design omega fantasy.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever fantasized about interior designer roleplay.”

Beomgyu glanced back at him with a smile, as if he didn’t fully believe it. Soobin guessed if Beomgyu ever wanted to try it out in the bedroom he would still say yes. 

And then they were standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the frozen food aisle. His arm brushing Beomgyu’s as he leaned past him, searching for his best friend’s ice cream. Triple chocolate with chunks.

Beomgyu peered around his broad body to see what he had picked up, “I have a question.”

“What is it?” Soobin asked, packing it into the cart. 

They had been walking from aisle to aisle for the past half-hour, pointing out new seasonal flavors they hadn’t seen before and Soobin sneaking booze when Beomgyu wasn’t looking.  It felt easy and all too domestic. Soobin liked that part. Liked this part. Grocery shopping with Beomgyu was natural and the only place he felt like he didn’t need to perform, just had to go through the motions. The way he hummed and harred about nutritional value and how he carefully guided the cart. Soobin just nodded along and pretended not to be completely undone by the way his best friend squinted at packaging or rolled the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows.

“If I were an ice cream flavor,” Beomgyu began, slightly breathless as he quickened his pace to keep up with Soobin’s long strides, “what would I be?”

The cart rang as it struck the grout in the tiles and Beomgyu placed his hand on the handle to steady it, overlapping Soobin’s hand. It was warm and small, just rough enough to be proof of the hours he spends strumming his guitar. How had this been the hand that had been around his cock? The same one that had fisted him, a palm that circled his head dangerously. And why couldn’t he stop thinking about it like Beomgyu clearly did? They were talking about ice cream like nothing had changed.

“You’d be something fake sweet. Like birthday cake. Pretty on the outside. Rotten core.”

Beomgyu laughed, genuinely. “I like to think that’s code for: you’re too sweet, Beomgyu. I’m just too emotionally stunted to say it properly. ”

Soobin didn’t really mean it. Beomgyu was everything that was good: the smell of chlorine swimming pools and salty summer air, a sun that hangs low before sunset, the first bloom in spring. He would never say this to him; would never actually divulge what Beomgyu actually meant to him. They were feelings he had struggled to process for most of his life.

“Coffee, maybe. You make me feel awake.”

Beomgyu glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. He turned his head back to the rows of canned food, letting a hand graze against the metal as they walked. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

And, because he didn’t want to explain that sometimes Beomgyu made him feel like he had spent his years dormant until he had met him, “Well, it makes sense to me.”

Before Beomgyu, he’d been half-asleep. Drifting. Going through the motions. Meeting him felt like switching on a light and realizing you’d been living in shadow. He didn’t say that being near him made the static in his mind go quiet, or that his presence felt like a pulse beneath his skin.

Beomgyu bumped their shoulders together. “Fine. Coffee is fine. But I’m the Italian kind. You know, the one they only serve after a meal.”

Soobin laughed. “Too fancy for my taste.”

“If there is anyone who's your taste, it’s me.”

Soobin turned away so Beomgyu wouldn’t see the flush rising up his neck. He should have laughed it off, made it into a joke. But there was nothing but silence.

As if to break it, “You’d be triple chocolate,” Beomgyu mumbled mostly to himself. “With chunks.”

Beomgyu still hadn’t moved his hand from the cart. Because Soobin could feel his thumb had started brushing over Soobin’s knuckles. Small, absent strokes like it didn’t mean a thing.

Soobin was at the mall, halfway to Eldritch Emporium when he received a text.

Taehyun

You dont have to do this, you know.

me

I’m aware.

It only took a dozen more steps before his phone buzzed again.

Kai 

soob you arent going to be able to eat for like a month i think 😭😭😭

me

It’s actually a few days.

He had only just thumbed send before another message came through and Soobin couldn’t help the groan that escaped him.

Yeonjun

i think you are going to look really sexy if that matters

me

Are you three sitting together, taking turns texting me?

Because the day had come. He had only booked an appointment to silence Beomgyu and maybe to prove something to Jimin, peacocking. Prove that he was an alpha with worth, one that didn’t only follow along his omega best friend like a lap dog while wearing absurd clothes. That he could commit to something bold and that he was the kind of person who followed through.

So he powered on, rowing against the current of mall-goers.

There was Jimin behind the counter, setting out a tray of autoclaved jewelry that reflected off the various mirrored balls that glittered from the roof. Soobin didn’t think he could ever get used to the feeling the store gave him, a constant state of feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb just by existing in it. Jimin caught his eye and smiled, lifting his hand in greeting.

“Thought I saw your name on the bookings list. Kind of thought you’d cancel, but it’s good to see you.”

Soobin huffed, running a hand over the decorative heads. “You kind of don’t know me at all.”

Jimin gave him a confused smile but clapped him on the back, anyway. He turned and strode toward the procedure room, so easy in his own space, and Soobin trailed behind him automatically. Annoyingly obedient. The lap dog that he said he wasn’t following its handler. 

Soobin couldn’t help but notice his confident strides, the way his shoulders rolled back ever so slightly. The fact that he’d been close enough last week to trade the barbell in Beomgyu’s navel for a butterfly. He had seen him in that crop top — had Beomgyu dressed up for him, or for Soobin?

Before he could follow that train of thought, Jimin had pushed open a back door and Soobin was met with his new reality: he now had to follow through.

“Sit down. You’re a little too tall for the chair, so try and get as comfortable as you can.”

The chair was vinyl and it hissed as he sank into it. He wasn’t wrong, Soobin’s lanky limbs hung from the chair like it was made for a dollhouse. Jimin busied himself with prep: alcohol, cotton pads, a sealed needle, the small silver stud Beomgyu had helped him pick out weeks ago. He hadn’t really chosen it for him, but it was close enough. He had looked at the display, pointed to one shaped like a tiny star and said that one would suit you. Soobin hadn’t asked why. He’d just agreed.

All it ever took was one word, maybe two.

“So how did you decide on a tongue piercing? You look more like the nipple type.”

Soobin blinked at him, nose scrunching. “I’m not the nipple type.”

Jimin laughed, tapping the needle gently against the tray, letting it clink. “No, c’mon, imagine it. You, walking around in your dorky little tees, all modest. And then bam, a stud through the fabric. It’s subtle. Sexy in a quiet guy next door way..”

“Jesus. Fuck off.”

Jimin shrugged, “Suit yourself. Beomgyu would have loved it.”

Soobin’s jaw ticked, the muscle clenching. “Don’t talk about Beomgyu.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows but he didn’t apologize. “Touchy.”

“Just don’t.”

Soobin sat back in the chair, exhaling hard through his nose. Jimin didn’t push it, just nodded once and got back to prepping the clamp. 

“Stay still and poke out your tongue.”

The clamp was cold against his lips, and Jimin’s gloved hands were steady as they tilted his jaw slightly. Soobin couldn’t still the shake of his tongue, the muscle trembling in Jimin’s grip.

“You’re nervous,” he whispered, amused.

Soobin rolled his eyes. His tongue was already stuck out and he wouldn’t have been able to reply, anyway. Still, he made a sound of protest.

“Whatever that means,” Jimin said, brushing a thumb over Soobin’s chin in what felt too much like affection. “You’re doing this for him, right?”

Soobin tried to glare, but Jimin had already moved to line up the needle.

“I mean, it’s obvious,” Jimin went on, quieter now. “The star, the timing, the attitude. If it’s not for Beomgyu, then it’s to get his attention back.”

Was it to get his attention back? No. Soobin had his attention. So what was this for?

The clamp tightened. His mouth stayed open.

“Beomgyu’s a good omega. Different, but good. And if you need to know, we are just friends. I figured you knew the first time we met, but then you started exploding me in your mind,” Jimin said with a smile, eyes glancing up to meet his.

Soobin huffed a laugh through his nose.

The metal slid through with a sharp pinch, and Soobin winced, his fists curled at his sides. Jimin worked quickly, threading the barbell easily, but Soobin’s mind was far away. There was too much to make sense of.

When it was over, Jimin wiped the corner of Soobin’s mouth and said, “There. Shiny. Bet he’ll lose his mind.”

Soobin stood, ignoring the burn on his tongue and the confusion beginning to settle in his bones, rigid, his legs refusing to walk properly.

“Sorry for being rude,” he said, lisping around the metal. Then he walked out, not waiting to hear if Jimin had accepted his apology.

The college fair was exactly what Soobin had expected upon arrival. Loud, so loud. Chaotic and overrun. There crowds of students and alumni alike who were packed together like sardines as if to fend off the cold winter chill. Soobin was lucky enough to be stationed in the indoor basketball court, the entire hall being stripped of its hoops and bleachers, replaced by rows of fold-out tables that snaked around the entire space. 

Soobin didn’t fit in here; not with his stuffy button-down and too short trousers. The overly enthusiastic reps were handing out brochures like pudding. He decided to not go in just yet, save some of his energy for later.

Out on the quad, a stage had been set up for the student performers. Fairy lights were strung between trees that would glow brighter once the sun dipped, street lamps lining the paths were hanging the posters that Soobin dreaded seeing most. His smiling, airbrushed face stared back at him. How ridiculous it was to represent academic success.

Yeonjun had met him somewhere in between, laughing and pointing at one as they walked. “Studious as fuck. Look at that dashing, dimpled smile. Did they give you that uniform? I kind of want the backpack.”

“Any other comments to make?” Soobin huffed, navigating through the courtyard. It was already nearly time to head back to the gym, start talking to people he didn’t want to talk to.

They did their best to weave through groups of students lining up at food stalls and other college-branded merch tables with free pens and tote bags. Yeonjun somehow knew everybody they passed, despite spending most of his time with Soobin and their other friends. He had always been like that, even in youth. Knew how to talk to people in a way Soobin never did. Confident in a way Soobin never was. 

He was in full performance gear, too: a white tank top that clung to his chest despite the cold, a spiked choker at his throat. His red hair was freshly dyed, jagged at the ends like flames. He was beautiful in that loud way that Soobin was too proper to pull off. He didn’t care if people stared. He wanted them to.

“Yeah, does the Dean know you’re repping the college with a tongue piercing now? She’d have a heart attack. You know how betas are about defiant alphas. You should’ve gone with the Minion tee to cancel it all out.”

Soobin paused mid-step. “Wait, do I actually look cool?”

“You look cooler than you usually do,” Yeonjun said with wide eyes. Like he was trying to make sure he knew he was being honest.

“Oh.” Soobin didn’t know what to do with himself. “That’s cool.”

Maybe that’s all he’d been trying to figure out — how to look like someone worthy of being under Beomgyu’s gaze. First he bleached his hair; it turned orange at first, but he worked hard to tone it down to something more aesthetically pleasing. Then Beomgyu painted his nails black one night while they were curled on the couch watching horror movies, promising he would take the polish off after he was done. He kept it on, chipped, just because they matched his best friend's. Now it was the tongue piercing, which still made his mouth feel numb if he played with it too much.

None of it had really worked.

But Beomgyu liked them.

They entered the gymnasium and realized it would never be all that difficult to spot Choi Beomgyu. While the other students had opted for something more business-casual, Beomgyu was in a worn leather jacket that had been passed down by his father, its lapels too crowded with enamel pins: little frogs, band logos, flags of countries he has been to. His hair was mussed like he had been playing with it too much, and he moved like he had all the time in the world. He as in the middle of draping the tablecloth they had bought across the front of the booth, biting at his bottom lips. When he caught sight of them, his whole face lit up.

“How good does it look?” he called out, beaming.

And it did look good — so good that Yeonjun let out a low whistle. The table was framed in vine leaves and topped with laminated speech diagrams, tongue anatomy models and a vase of orchids Beomgyu wasn’t able to let go of in the store. Above it all, a cursive sign read Speech Pathology - Allied Health and Health Sciences. He had turned what was but a smear in Soobin’s mind into something tangible.

“Thanks, Bam. You did good,” Soobin said, stepping closer.

Beomgyu tilted his head. “Huh?”

“I said you did good.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you speaking with a lisp?”

Before Soobin could protest, Beomgyu was in front of him, fingers curling under his chin. He tilted Soobin’s face up with all the ease of someone who had touched him before. His thumb grazed Soobin’s lower lip as he leaned in, squinting.

Soobin barely had time to protest before Beomgyu’s fingers were coaxing his mouth open. His thumb grazed the edge of Soobin’s lip, the pad of his finger catching just enough to feel how soft it was, before tugging his tongue forward between his fingers.

Beomgyu went quiet.

Not teasing, but looking.

It was only a second, maybe two, but it stretched so long that Soobin was feeling lightheaded from not breathing. His gaze dragged from the new silver star in the middle of his tongue to his eyes, his own narrowed slightly, not with judgment but with a sort of morbid fascination.

“Cyat gawt ya towing?” Soobin tried, lisping around his held tongue.

Beomgyu didn’t laugh. His brows twitched, lips parting like he might say something, but he didn’t. And that was worse. That look, that pause, wasn’t for just anyone. It was the Beomgyu he knew back in high school; completely enamored by the smallest things that sparked joy, clinging desperately to them when he found them. Music, textures, colors, moments. Like if he held them tight enough, maybe they wouldn’t be taken away.

His parents never let him fully be himself, not then. Soobin remembered the polos and the cargo shorts and how Beomgyu used to shrink himself, trying not to want too loudly. But when he found the bands that he loved — Paramore, The Cure, Lamp — his whole face would change. As if it were some looking glass into what could be. And even if no one gave him permission to claim that identity, he did it anyway. Quietly at first, then with enough force to topple anyone in his path over.

After graduation, he had started to stretch into himself more. Grew his hair out. Got a tattoo on his lower back he refused to show anyone but Soobin. Started wearing whatever he wanted, experimenting with style and reclaiming lost time. He looked loud, but his actions were always precise.

Beomgyu always said Soobin was repressed, but Soobin had never known what it felt like to want something so openly and be told no. He’d never had to claw for space to exist.

Now here Beomgyu was, staring at him in that same way, and Soobin didn’t know where to put it all. He felt it settle low in his belly, shame and desire twisting ropes there and his throat tight with how much he wanted to be wanted.

“Let gwo,” he lisped, quiet.

Beomgyu blinked like he was surfacing from a dream. His fingers loosened and withdrew but his eyes lingered.

“It suits you,” he said. His voice was quiet and utterly sincere.

Beomgyu stepped back and the warmth the two of them had created disappeared, replaced by the rush of empty air and suddenly the buzz of the fair was back. Voices, footsteps, a distant microphone crackle. It all came flooding in too loud.

Beomgyu turned back to the booth like nothing had happened, that easy grin sliding across his face. “For someone that is about to do a lot of talking, your tongue is pretty swollen, Speech Boy.”

Soobin wiped his mouth and he tried to hide the tremble. His heart beat too fast in his chest, shallow and confused.

Yeonjun leaned in close to his ear, “I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I’m going to go now.”

That startled a choked laugh out of him. Soobin broke from his stupor to usher Yeonjun away with a vague hand wave. People had already begun to crowd the area as they parsed through in waves so that meant Soobin would eventually have to start actually doing his job.

Unlike the volunteers who set up booths and eventually wandered off to do something better with their time, Beomgyu sat behind Soobin on a rickety stool. On his phone mostly, but there for moral support nonetheless.

At one point, just as Soobin was mid-explanation about tongue-tip strengthening exercises, Beomgyu disappeared. When he returned, he held an iced tea in one hand and slipped it into Soobin’s line of sight without a word. Not for himself, but for Soobin. The gesture was so casual and so quietly thoughtful that it made his throat tighten.

He didn’t thank him out loud. Just nodded, lips pressed together.

The next hour blurred like a fever dream.

Soobin stood behind the booth, voice slightly hoarse from overuse as he talked through articulation, speech development, resonance and placement. He demonstrated how consonants sounded without proper control using tongue depressors. He even caught the interest of a couple of senior speechies who orbited longer than expected, nodding along as he explained compensatory techniques. Most took a flyer and moved on. 

Somehow — despite the academic probation, the missed deadlines, the constant distraction — he sounded like he knew exactly what he was doing.

By the end, Beomgyu was quietly hovering. Fixing a stack of handouts, straightening the laminated signage, adjusting the orchids. It was subtle, but Soobin felt it: the eyes on him.

It was drawing to the end of the convention when Beomgyu had begun to tap on the table, a gesture that meant let’s start packing up.

And then, just as he began to bend down to start putting objects away, someone called out.

“Hey!”

Jogging toward the booth was someone vaguely familiar. Not by name, but by presence. He was an omega from one of his morning classes. Sat near the front, always raised his hand. The kind of person who volunteered to present when no one asked and created group chats and followed up on readings. The kind of person Soobin generally avoided, not because he disliked them, but because they made him feel unmoored. He didn’t have the stamina to match that energy.

“I heard you were volunteering,” the omega said, cheeks ruddy from the exertion, a sheen of sweat on his brow. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Soobin blinked, racking his brain. The face was so familiar: soft features, almond-shaped eyes. It could be anyone. He remembered a Kyungmin in his class, but he was an alpha. Mark? Could be. 

The omega tilted his head, cute. “Hao.”

“Right,” Soobin said, letting out a breath. “I knew that.”

Hao could have been miffed, seemed like the type of person to get attention wherever he went. No one should forget a pretty omega’s name. But he grinned, unbothered. “You looked like you didn’t.”

“Well, I did.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Eventually.”

Hao laughed softly and stepped a little closer, peering at the diagrams still displayed on the booth. “You did all this?”

“Yeah, but Beomgyu did most of the work.” He turned to catch his eye, still sitting on the stool behind him with a furrowed brow — close enough to hear, if he wanted to listen.

Hao nodded. “It’s nice. Didn’t expect a tongue piercing, though.”

Soobin stiffened, only slightly.

“Looks good on you,” Hao added. Was that a purr? “It’ll help you at work, gives people something to look at.”

Soobin cleared his throat. 

“Thanks. It’s new.”

Beomgyu’s hand brushed against his back a second later. Just in passing, or maybe not. He didn’t say anything, but the press of his fingers between Soobin’s shoulder blades lingered longer than it needed to. It made his hair stand on end.

Hao noticed. His eyes glancing briefly to Beomgyu, then back to Soobin. Still smiling, but there was a glint of something behind it now. Interest. Challenge. Maybe even a dare.

“Hey, Roki was telling me she came around before. She told me you’re really good at practical instruction. Can you do that thing you were showing earlier? With the depressor? I didn’t get to see it properly.”

“The tongue placement demo?”

“Yeah,” Hao said, already parting his lips and leaning over the table. “I’m curious. You make it sound so simple.”

Behind him, Beomgyu made a sound that was something between a cough and a laugh, vindictive in tone. Soobin didn’t turn around.

“Okay,” Soobin said, pulling a tongue depressor from the pile and pulling on a pair of gloves. “Just say ah for me.”

Hao did as he was told, wide-eyed and boyish, and Soobin gently pressed the wooden stick onto his tongue. His other hand cupped Hao’s chin clinically, tipping it just slightly as he angled him to show where the sounds were formed.

“Now, when you form an L, the tongue curls up and touches the alveolar ridge here.” Soobin tapped the roof of Hao’s mouth. “But if it’s too far back, it can sound slurred. Hear the difference?”

Hao attempted to make the sound and Soobin nodded. “Better.”

Beomgyu, from behind the table, had gone quiet. His fingers no longer shuffled the pamphlets; he wasn’t even pretending to organize things anymore. He just stood there, watching them.

“Your hands are cold,” Hao said, laughing around the depressor. “You’re making me shiver.”

“Then wear a jacket,” Beomgyu said under his breath.

It wasn’t loud, but it landed just as sharp as he wanted it to. Hao’s lips curved upward, catching it. He slowly reached up and pulled Soobin’s wrist away, letting a thin trail of saliva stretch and snap from the stick to his tongue. A performance, so intimate. 

“What was that?”

“No, nothing.” Soobin turned around and Beomgyu was staring at the omega with a pretty smile. “But your time is up, I’m afraid. It’s pack up time. Unless you want to stay back and help for a bit?”

Hao blinked, looking around at the booths folding their tables and placing them against the wall. “Oh. Right. You’re performing in a bit, aren’t you? I could probably pack up while you prepare.”

Beomgyu shook his head, moving to stand beside Soobin. “All good. I’m prepared. Having two omegas around isn’t good for our poor Soobin, he might just burst. You better head out.”

And, finally, Hao frowned. 

As if acknowledging that he had lost to Beomgyu: “Well, thanks for the demo. It was enlightening.”

Beomgyu gave him a small wave. “Anytime. You pronounced your L’s just right.”

Hao left with a parting smile — one meant for Soobin rather than Beomgyu — but the second he made it onto the quad, Beomgyu turned to him.

“You gonna lick the next one clean too, or was that a special?”

Soobin sighed. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” Beomgyu said. “Just wondering if I should have waited in line.”

“He asked for help.”

“Sure he did. With his mouth wide open and batting his lashes. Alpha instincts kick in all of a sudden or were you just enjoying the view?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Soobin rolled his sleeves up. It was getting hot in the gym, despite the chill of the broken ventilation and the winter sunlight glaring through the high windows. His skin was damp at the collar. “And if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’re a little jealous.”

Beomgyu didn’t flinch, but he didn’t meet his eyes either. He continued packing the miniatures and models, laying the fabric over the top like he was tucking something delicate into bed.

Softly, “Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu looked at him for a moment, doe eyes round and moving rapidly around Soobin’s face. Looking for signs of something Soobin would never know, searching for a truth there. No, it wasn’t jealousy. It was something more vulnerable than that.

He turned back to the container and latched it shut. “I have to perform soon, So I’m going to run this back to the arts department.”

Soobin stepped forward.

“I’ll take it.”

But before he could reach for the box, Beomgyu had already lifted it, stepping back out of reach. Always out of reach.

“It’s near my dorm,” he said. His voice was light, but his grip on the crate was solid. Soobin could see it in the way his knuckles blanched around the handle, “And I need to grab a few things. So don’t worry about me.”

And then he walked from the hall without looking back; the sound of his heavy, booted footsteps and the rustle of his leather jacket. Soobin was alone again and left with the agonizing reality that, between the two of them, there were a million conversations that they weren’t having.

One of which was the fact that he could not understand Beomgyu no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe Beomgyu didn’t understand him either; had seen him shallowy this whole time. A submissive alpha, yes, but one that was content with whatever bone was thrown to him. One that hated confrontation. An alpha who didn’t want to only be led sexually, but emotionally guided. Had Beomgyu finally seen it all today, decided it wasn’t what he wanted?

How could that make sense when they weren’t anything, anyway? Best friends, always. Friends with benefits, now. Never anything more. Why had it been feeling like so much more lately?

Soobin dragged a palm down his face, fingers pressing into his eyes until he saw stars. He deserted the fold up table and trailed outside into the cold. Anything to get out of the stale air that had built up in the hall. 

The performances had already started: a group of freshmen he recognized from Beomgyu’s class, one of his friends Lune. They were probably performing next, Taehyun somewhere in the area.

There was that round head, the stiff glasses he hadn’t replaced since ninth grade, and a solid-colored shirt from his rotation of the same five, worn under a long coat. He sat on a picnic mat someone had thrown over the grass, resting on his palms, shoulders bouncing to the rhythm.

Soobin approached, falling down beside him.

Taehyun turned his head slightly. “Done?”

“Yeah, longest hour of my life,” Soobin sighed. 

Humming in response, Soobin couldn’t help but notice the lilt of a grin on Taehyun’s face. “Beomgyu told us all about it.”

“I was doing the same thing the whole day, it’s not like I changed the demonstration for a random omega.” Soobin raked his hands through his hair, the bass rattling his brain. “Did he talk to you for long afterwards?”

“No, just told us you had your hand in Hao’s mouth. Walked off afterwards so he didn’t exactly elaborate. Did you two talk?”

Which was Taehyun-speak for: did you two finally say the quiet part out loud?

“No, he just left.”

Taehyun turned fully to him, crossing his legs at the ankles and casting a glare to the stage as if the performers had interrupted an important conversation. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the tall beams that held up the stage, the glimmer of Lune’s outfit. Everything felt like it was happening just out of reach; behind frosted glass.

“It’s weird,” he said eventually. “We’re not together. We’ve never said anything. But it feels like something is happening and I don’t know what it is.”

“You know what it is, Soobin. You aren’t silly.”

Soobin’s throat bobbed. His tongue was still numb from the piercing, a dull ache at the back of his mouth. He wanted so desperately to blame it for how heavy it felt against his palate. Like his mouth was stuffed with cotton.

“He’s my best friend.”

The crowd clapped politely as the performance ended but Soobin felt rooted to the ground. Beomgyu, his best friend. Beomgyu, his soulmate. Beomgyu, his. It had always felt that way. His omega. In some desperate, hopeless way. Always his.

“Clap,” Taehyun said, nudging him with an elbow and a soft smile. “Beomgyu’s been anxious about this all day.”

Because his friends were climbing onto the stage. All black and leather, colored hair, instruments strapped to their chest. Such a stark contrast to the academic background and the prepped-up students that surrounded them. 

Beomgyu, in his all-encompassing beauty, looked terrified. His armor could barely hide the tremble of his body as he stood in front of the microphone. 

He was trying so hard to look like he belonged there, with his eyeliner smudged just right and his lip bitten pink. But his posture was all wrong, hunched in the same way he used to do to shrink. Shoulders pulled tight. The way he kept swallowing, hard. The way he refused to look at the crowd for longer than a second.

Soobin’s heart clenched.

Something had been happening between the two of them lately. They were regressing into their former selves. Those scared, uncertain boys who didn’t know where they fit in the world, only that they fit with each other. Back then, Soobin had been afraid of what Beomgyu made him feel. The ache in his chest when he looked at him for too long, his writhing gut when Beomgyu would speak to a boy in class that wasn’t him.

And now, watching him on stage, vulnerable in a way he hadn't been in years, Soobin felt it again. That same ache. But this time it was the overwhelming compulsion to climb the stage. Just to stand beside him. To hold the mic steady.

But instead, despite everything inside him that desperately told him not to…

Soobin walloped, “Let’s fucking go, Beomgyu!”

Beomgyu’s head whipped over in his direction, searching for his voice. When their eyes locked, the tense knit of his brows softened. His eyes said everything. Thank you , his gaze said. Or maybe: You’re here. I needed that.

And then Beomgyu turned back to the mic, spine a little straighter, and breathed a little deeper.

And he began to sing.

They went to a diner after the fair. Beomgyu needed something greasy to soothe the scratch in his throat, and Soobin needed something slick to ease the persistent ache of his healing tongue. Their friends talked cheerily, voices overlapping as they rehashed the day: who showed up at which booth, who flubbed their performance, who flirted with who.

But Beomgyu stayed quiet. He stirred his milkshake until it melted, barely touched his food. His thigh pressed against Soobin’s beneath the table, but there was no nudge, no teasing jab to his knee. Just a warm weight, still.

Soobin tried not to lean into it, but he wasn’t very good at pretending not to want things.

“Are we still going to mine next weekend?” Taehyun asked, rolling fries around his plate with a prong of his fork.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun said. “Unless your aunt has said no, then we can book a pension somewhere nearby.”

“She wants us there. But I know how you guys get when you’re in the middle of nowhere. One canoe and half a bottle and we’re calling search and rescue.”

“It’s not in the middle of nowhere. Remember last time it only took five minutes for those safety guys to come and fish Yeonjun out of the water,” Kai said wistfully, as if recounting a fond memory.

Soobin smiled but it was hard when Beomgyu’s fingers had curled around the edge of his plate like he was holding onto it just to keep himself steady. His eyes hadn’t lifted from the melting milkshake.

Soobin wanted to reach under the table and take his hand.

He wanted to ask, What’s wrong? But more than that, he wanted to ask, Am I allowed to be what you need?

As the night began to wind down and everyone started sliding out of the booth, Beomgyu stood. “You guys go ahead. I need to pick up laundry.”

“I’ll come,” Soobin said too quickly.

Beomgyu turned, eyebrow raised. “You really don’t need to, Soobin,” he bit. Like Soobin was only offering because he felt guilty, not because he wanted to.

“I need to grab some stuff too.”

A beat.

Then Beomgyu nodded and turned to go, pacing ahead of him, boots scuffing the pavement with each step.

Soobin followed silently.

The walk to the laundromat was short but quiet.

Beomgyu didn’t speak, and Soobin didn’t know how to start. The cold clung to the space between them, visible with every huff of breath. The air smelt like wet leaves and leftover rain, the city still damp from the drizzle earlier that afternoon.

The laundromat was just a block from the student buildings, a square room that left much to be desired in the aesthetic department. There was nothing but the deep churn of machinery and the cicada buzz of the overhead lights. The floor tiles were cracked and yellowed from too many years of bleach and soap. One older woman had just finished folding socks in the corner when they had entered, and she passed by them with a small smile. 

Beomgyu moved quickly for one of the dryers and began pulling out his warm clothes, stuffing them into a canva tote without looking at Soobin. His leather jacket creaked as he moved, his badges clinking.

Soobin reached for the bag, quietly taking it from him and dumped the contents onto a washer. Beomgyu stilled and his arms hung at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Soobin began folding. Slowly and delicately. His lace-trimmed tanks, faded band tees, thrifted flannels, those impossibly cropped tops... Beomgyu treasured his clothes more than anything in the world, so Soobin would treat them with that same care.

“You didn’t eat,” Soobin said quietly.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You didn’t sing during the second half either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

Soobin folded a hoodie and set it down like it was made of glass.

“I didn’t do anything with Hao,” he said suddenly. “If that’s why you’re upset.”

That made Beomgyu’s fingers stop tapping against his thigh, the one part of his body that had moved since Soobin had begun touching his clothes.

“I was showing him the same thing I showed everyone,” Soobin continued. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Beomgyu turned, grabbing the stack of clothes that Soobin had finished with. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you don’t fold your clothes right. It’s better if I do it.”

Impossibly quiet, “I don’t like when you do it.”

There was a pause of silence. Then, Soobin asked, “Did I do it wrong?”

Beomgyu sighed petulantly, like he was frustrated that Soobin just wasn’t getting it. But it was so hard to understand him sometimes. His desires, his fears, what we wanted from Soobin.

“No. I just don’t do nicely with gentle, Soobin. You are folding my clothes like you are my practice boyfriend when it’s not like that between us.”

For a moment, Beomgyu just stared at him. His eyes were glassy and his jaw was tight.

“I’m not upset about Hao. You’re not mine, so there is no reason for me to be upset.”

And still, he looked at Soobin like he couldn’t stop being upset anyway.

“Okay,” Soobin whispered.

Beomgyu sighed and jumped to sit on the dryer, running a hand over his face. He looked more tired than he had ever looked and Soobin hoped, wished, that it wasn’t his fault. But even like this, Soobin couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful. The most perfect omega was standing before him; how could he ever think of anyone else?

“You looked really good today,” Beomgyu said finally. “Unfortunately.”

Soobin blinked. That was not what he’d expected. Embarrassment bloomed across his chest, up his neck like heat. He fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt, fingers clumsy around the buttons. “Why is that so unfortunate?”

“Because you walk into the gym in a button-down shirt and a tongue piercing and I’m expected to behave. And the worst part? I don’t even have to behave anymore. You’ve got permission now. But instead of doing anything with me, you go and touch someone else.”

There was only the slap of wind against the windows and the tumble of clothes, so quiet in that small room. Anyone could walk in — it had only just gotten dark outside. But it didn’t really matter. Soobin wanted to get on his knees in front of his best friend and tell him that there was no one else he would rather touch. That Hao’s mouth hadn’t lingered in his mind for more than a second; that Beomgyu’s own had been something he had fixated on for as long as he could remember. That every inch of him ached for Beomgyu and only Beomgyu.

All he could muster: “I didn’t touch him the way I want to touch you.”

Beomgyu’s eyes snapped to him, a tilt of his head. 

“And how,” Beomgyu asked, “do you want to touch me?”

Soobin’s throat bobbed. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can.”

How could he articulate his thoughts, put all his feelings into words? It was possible once; maybe when he was a teenager he could have sorted it into sentences. Maybe then he could’ve made it simple. Something like I like the way you say my name. Or, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe. Or, I think my soul already picked you, and I never had a say in it.

There was no explanation for how Beomgyu made Soobin feel. How when Beomgyu’s eyes were on him, the warmth of his attention wrapped around him like a buoy, constant in rough waves. It was remarkable, how quickly everything could shift, how Beomgyu simply noticing him could make him feel stable again.

What is a friend if not a hand to hold? Isn’t that what friendship is?

“I want to worship you. The way you move. The way you talk. The way you look at me like you already know what I’m thinking. I want my hands on you so often they forget how to hold anything else. I’m so scared, Beomgyu, I can’t stop thinking about how you felt on top of me, pressing me down into the mattress.”

Beomgyu didn’t speak, didn’t blink. 

The washing machine rumbled beneath Beomgyu’s weight. Soobin couldn’t tell if he was beginning to spread his legs to create space for him or if he just liked the vibration between his thighs, both possibilities made something stir deep in his gut.

Instead, he leaned back on his palms, head tilted as he gave him a once-over, head to toe. “Come here.”

Soobin moved without thinking, placing himself in the gap Beomgyu had made. He grasped the long length of his calves and dragged his palms upward to his knobby knees. Although he was smaller than Soobin, everything about his body was strong — legs, arms, the set of his jaw. How could someone so delicate be so hard? 

The muscle that twitched just beneath his skin, the same that kept him moving toward Soobin. The lips that stretched into a grin were the same ones Soobin had dreamed of kissing, biting, breaking open. Soobin could do it, take them between his teeth and bite until blood was drawn. Could suck the liquid into his mouth and make Beomgyu whimper like he did the night he grinded on Soobin until he finished.

Suddenly, for the first time today, Beomgyu knew he was the one back in control. Soobin wanted to tell him that he always had been.

As if he felt the same way, Beomgyu reached up and plucked Soobin’s bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. 

Deprecatingly, “Say ah.”

Soobin’s tongue lolled out, heavy and wet. Ever since he got the piercing, he’d been salivating more. Or maybe it was just Beomgyu. Maybe his body already knew what it was for. There was an undeniable urge to lean in and pass it to him; but that wasn’t what Beomgyu wanted from him, he had passed the control back to him.

A cat with his mouse, a one-winged bird and the predator that pawed at it. In the animal kingdom, the prey knows it is going to be eaten, will move and seek escape. But Soobin did not run. He let Beomgyu’s fingers play with his lip, then curled his tongue nice and slow, giving him a better view as an offering.

“God,” he said. “This shouldn’t make sense. You should look like a poser.”

Soobin looked up at Beomgyu, eyebrows knitted together pleadingly. He couldn’t speak with his tongue caught in the mouse-trap of Beomgyu’s fingers. Everything he wanted to say was in his eyes: 

Take me. Ruin me. I’m yours.

“It’s not breaking the rules if I sucked at it, right? It isn’t kissing.”

Choi Beomgyu was a wolf in sheep's clothing. The ultimate trap for suckers like Choi Soobin. There would be more that had come before him, others that would be after, surely. But none of them were as desperate as he was — he would do anything to be kept. None who’d burn just to be near the flame.

He shook his head, parting his lips further to give Beomgyu more room in his mouth. Beomgyu clearly enjoyed his hopelessness because he leaned in close, nose nudging the line of his jaw. Soobin could feel the heat of his breath against his skin and he had to stifle the small sound that threatened to escape him.

It was terrifying, being so close to the person who had been plaguing his thoughts since he had ever known him. He had been close that night, felt his hand around his cock, and yet it didn’t feel as intimate as this.

Soobin tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck without thinking.

Beomgyu took it just as quickly. His thighs wrapped around Soobin’s middle and drew him into his chest, arms wrapping around his neck and digging his face into the side of it. All Soobin could feel was that mouth on him, wet and licking stripes up the column of his throat, purring. 

Soobin’s hands gripped him tight, fingers digging into the hem of his jacket before he yanked it down his shoulders and tossed it aside. He needed to feel him. Needed skin, heat, proof. All he wanted to do was lean in; get so close that their bodies merged and became one. 

Beomgyu kissed his way up to his ear, lips dragging over skin that had gone hypersensitive. He sucked gently at the lobe before licking up the shell, breath hot.

“Everyone always looks at you,” he whispered. “Why don’t you look back? Hao is so pretty.”

Soobin’s breath caught. His eyes shut at the way Beomgyu’s mouth found the spot just behind his ear, kissing it open-mouthed, so wet that saliva dripped down his neck.

“He is.”

The vibrations of Beomgyu’s voice against his skin made him shiver, “Then go to him. I won’t be mad.”

“No,” Soobin tried. “I want you.”

Beomgyu pulled back, staring at the star on his tongue once more as it flicked out against his lip in a nervous tic. His round eyes lifted again, looking at him like he was still trying to catch him in a lie.

“No one else will feel that piercing but me, right?” he asked.

“No one,” Soobin said. 

A vow.

Nodding, Beomgyu finally breathed. 

“Then come back to my dorm and let me feel it.”

Soobin nodded back, knowing he had made a mistake.

All Soobin could feel was his mouth on him. It was everywhere, ravenous and seeking. Beomgyu was charting a path down his neck, along his jaw, across his collarbone like he had been starved.

Beomgyu’s room was packed so tightly full of things — trinkets, textbooks, blind box miniatures — and they knocked into each one as they moved about the room. Tripping over piles of clothes and a chair that hadn’t been pushed in, Soobin groaned, spine colliding with the edge of Beomgyu’s desk.

“You good?” Beomgyu asked, breathless and laughing. His lips were cherry-red from his attack on Soobin’s body.

He grabbed his coccyx, massaging the skin there. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Beomgyu looked like a phantasm under the lamp light, long, dark hair strewn across his wind-burnt face. The tank top sleeve was slipping from his shoulder and Soobin wanted to bury his mouth there. There was so much skin he had yet to try and he wanted it between his teeth so badly.

“You’re so clumsy,” Beomgyu laughed as he hurriedly tried to unbutton Soobin’s shirt with his black-polished fingers. “A fucking giant in a dollhouse.”

“You’re the one who shoved me.”

“I barely touched you.”

“You’re insatiable, you basically jumped me.”

Beomgyu smirked, tugging the shirt open without care. “You don’t want me to?”

He did. He wouldn’t say it, though. Just like everything else.

Soobin shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one motion instead. It felt like shedding skin; like stepping out of the rigid mold he had squeezed into all day. Button-downs and expectations, stripped away. The moment his arms were free, his hands were back on Beomgyu. Possessive, greedy, sliding under his tank top and gripping at his waist with enough pressure to see the pale indents of them.

“Where do you keep your fragile collectibles? I want you to aim a bit closer next time when you slam me into something.”

Then his lips lowered, sucking just under Beomgyu’s scent gland, close enough to make him gasp. His hands dragged up Beomgyu’s torso, fingers mapping out every curve of bone and every soft area. Parsed over the piercing in his navel to his ribs. The pain of his own was nothing but a ghost in the back of his mind, eclipsed by the little sighs that came from Beomgyu’s perfect mouth.

“Don’t—” Beomgyu broke off when Soobin bit just a little too close to the hollow of his neck. “Don’t take out my Cinnamoroll. He was expensive.”

Soobin towered over him from this vantage point, practically folded over his body and laving over every inch of skin he could find. His mouth dragged hot and wet over all the exposed skin he could reach: over clavicle, throat, shoulder. When he sucked just under the collarbone, a bruise blooming beneath his tongue, Beomgyu’s hips twitched. 

Beomgyu shoved at him, not with real intent to push him away, just enough to part their skin, enough to make a point. His mouth was turned down into a scolding frown.

“You’re slobbering on me like a dog,” he said. “Back.”

And Soobin — too big, too flustered, too obedient — stepped back without question.

Beomgyu laughed, “You’re so easy.”

Not easy, he just followed orders well.

He pointed to the bed. “Sit, puppy.”

Soobin, as if on autopilot, hobbled over to the bed, still clutching the small of his back, and dropped onto it. His breath was ragged and his hair was already matted to his forehead. He tried to run a hand through it, but the bleach made it knotted.

Beomgyu looked at him from across the room with folded arms, eyes raking over his body. He was bare from the waist up, pants low enough to reveal the dip of his hips and a sliver of his boxers.

Squinting at the sight, “Are you wearing Spongebob underwear?”

Soobin blinked, looked down, then shrugged. “They were at the top of my drawer.”

“You didn’t think about looking sexy, just in case?”

“Did you?”

Beomgyu smiled, too saccharine for the moment. He dropped his hands to the hem of his tank and pulled it up slightly. Then, without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs in his jeans and dragged them low enough to reveal the lace of his panties. Black and so thin that, if Soobin wanted to, he could rip them off his body.

Soobin inhaled so sharply he nearly choked on it.

“Jesus Christ.”

Beomgyu tilted his head. “Still feel good about the Spongebob boxers?”

“No,” Soobin croaked. “But I wasn’t trying to win.”

He had already won by having Choi Beomgyu in lace panties in front of him. It was up to Beomgyu to discover he was the one on the losing team, could have his pick of any alpha he wanted. Tonight, Soobin would attempt to show him he was the only one worth going to.

Beomgyu came over and took his face in both hands. He tilted his head up, forced him to meet his eyes.

“How far are you willing to go tonight?”

Soobin swallowed. His lips parted and closed again before he could speak. His heart thudded so loudly he was sure Beomgyu could hear it, could probably feel the staccato beat against his fingertips.

How far?

As far as Beomgyu wanted. Any distance, any depth. If Beomgyu asked him to crawl, he’d scrape his knees without complaint. If he asked for everything, Soobin would give it and then some. Bruised, bitten lips, every inch of himself. Every inch of his cock.

“Whatever you want from me. I already told you, I want you to use me.”

Beomgyu’s mouth twitched, delighted by the response. He leaned in, lips hovering just over Soobin’s. Not kissing, never kissing, but so unbearably close.

“Can I sit on your face?”

Soobin felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Please.”

Beomgyu grinned, the sly kind of grin that always made Soobin feel like he was left in the sun for too long. Heatstroke dizziness, red raw.

“Lie back,” he said softly. “Let me see what it feels like.”

Soobin did as he was told, scooting back on the tiny bed until he was laying down on the pillows. Beomgyu’s bed had always been too small for him; each of his limbs would be off the mattress if he so much as extended them. Beomgyu said he liked the look of it — seeing him take up so much space.

He positioned himself with his palms flat and legs spread in invitation, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again to watch Beomgyu through his lashes. His throat bobbed as he tried to swallow, the anticipation of having him only just starting to unfurl in his core. It was the room in its blood orange hue, the way the lamp behind Beomgyu made his silhouette look almost angelic. The glow made his skin look like gold and Beomgyu stood just within his reach, half shrouded, haloed in that dusky lens that only Soobin saw him with.

It was funny. Beomgyu was reaching down to unzip the fly of his jeans, peeling the denim gently off his thighs. He covered himself with his palm, fingers curled over the stretch of black lace when his pants hit the floor. Beomgyu glanced up then, lashes dark and thick, and for a split second, he looked bashful.

Soobin thought he might combust with how much he wanted him. Not just like this, bare and beautiful, but always. Not just the pieces Beomgyu was willing to give. All of him. The anxious parts. The proud parts. The ones that were sharp and meant to warn him.

And here he was now: lace and naked skin and averted eyes, a fallen angel with shaky fingers.

An omega that was his. Maybe not forever, maybe only right now. But his, still.

Beomgyu climbed onto the bed slowly, moving to straddle his middle. He reached forward, brushing Soobin’s hair from his face.

“Open up,” he whispered.

Soobin did.

The lamplight made the silver star glint and the tip of his tongue was red, still a little swollen, but healed enough to use. Beomgyu only stared. Something had changed at the college fair, because he was looking at him now with the same fascination. As if he was seeing something Soobin had been offering all along. Something he hadn’t known he was offering in the first place.

“God,” Beomgyu breathed. “I was half-joking when I said I wanted to feel it. But now I think I’ll die if I don’t.”

His body dipped down, resting his hands on Soobin’s chest for balance. Then he dragged his fingers down, nails scratching the skin lightly until they passed over his nipples. When Soobin inhaled, Beomgyu smiled.

A voice that was barely there, “What do you want me to do?”

How desperately Soobin wanted to reach up and take Beomgyu’s face in his hands, maybe drag them up his knobby knees to his muscular thighs. Wanted so badly to be someone who could make him feel good. Wanted to be good.

Beomgyu shook his head curiously, like the question was unnecessary. “You’re already doing it.”

He lifted himself slowly, thighs tense where they caged Soobin’s ribs. The bed creaked beneath them as it adjusted to their shift and his body hovered above him. Beomgyu was all smooth skin and only the faintest stubble from his belly button piercing and disappeared just beneath the waistband of his panties.

Beomgyu nudged forward until his thighs were framing Soobin’s face, the wet fabric brushing the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, the corners of his parted lips. He stopped just above him as if giving him one last second to pull back.

There was not one moment in Soobin’s life where he would pass up this opportunity he had been gifted.

Not only that, but he could barely breathe under the weight of it all. Not just Beomgyu hovering above him, but what it meant. To be given this. To be trusted with this. His hands stayed at his sides, gripping the sheets. He would be good for him even if he wanted to grab his hips and pull him down onto his mouth.

“Look at me,” Beomgyu said, a distant fever dream.

Soobin’s eyes met his.

“Use it. That pretty tongue you got pierced just for me.”

Then, finally, he lowered himself.

All he could feel was fabric against his lips first. He was too afraid to part his lips, flick his tongue out to taste the wet patch that soaked through. Beomgyu hadn’t placed his full weight on him because he was gripping the headboard for steadiness.

Soobin opened up and allowed the tip of his tongue to flick out to taste. Beomgyu shuddered above him, thighs closing around his ears. He couldn’t properly eat him like this; not when the lace threatened to catch on the ball of Soobin’s tongue piercing if he wasn’t careful, so he didn’t risk it. Instead, he flattened his tongue and pressed it up against the center of Beomgyu’s folds. 

A soft sigh sounded from above, so he did it again. 

He pressed up harder this time, lips parted around the delicate lace, his breath warming it through. Soobin’s hands were still fisted in the sheets and fighting the urge to touch, to grip, to pull. Beomgyu was already arching forward with twitching hips, drooping lower. It was the slow give of his thighs; the collapse he was fighting against.

“Can you pull them to the side,” Soobin said, breathing raggedly, “so you can ride my face properly?”

Beomgyu looked up at the ceiling, lips pressed into a line as he cursed.

His nimble fingers traced down his torso until the meet the edge of his panties, teasing even himself as he slipped two fingers beneath the lace. He dragged the fabric aside to give Soobin access. 

This close, he didn’t know what to do with it all. Everything was flushed and swollen, glossy with slick. He wasn’t shaved and his hair was damp and curled against his inner thigh.Soobin’s mouth parted involuntarily, a whimper caught in his throat. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Beomgyu’s pussy was plush and pink and his clit stood out, larger than any other omega Soobin had been with, and it pulsed as if he were aching for attention. Soobin could barely keep still. He wanted to sit up, to pull him down, to take him in his mouth. He would eat him for hours if he had the chance.

When Beomgyu finally gave himself over to him, Soobin opened up wide with his tongue lolled out. As his clit met the metal of Soobin’s piercing, Beomgyu gasped like he’d touched electrical wire. His hips bucked slightly and it was only then that Soobin’s hands came up to hold his thighs steady.

“No,” Beomgyu jerked, “keep your hands down.”

Soobin could feel the tremble of his thighs now underneath his palms. The vulnerability of it. So, he slowly lifted his hands off him and rested them against the sheets again.

“I’m—I’m going to use your mouth,” Beomgyu stumbled.

He nodded, eyes locked on Beomgyu’s face, and opened wider.

Beomgyu began to move tentatively at first. His hips rolled shyly as if testing the pressure, but that first full grind against Soobin’s mouth pulled a sound from him that came from his chest, deep and low. Soobin moaned under him and the vibration paired with the sting of metal against his sensitive core made Beomgyu shiver violently.

He picked up a rhythm fast, the graceful line of his body arching as he rocked into his mouth. Soobin could only lay back and take it. It was divine; the taste of him, a sweet honey like his scent, but a little more sour. He wanted to live here right between his thighs, let his chin prune from it.

Beomgyu’s head fell back as the star caught on his inflamed clit, Soobin circled it unintentionally and it was then that he fully dropped onto Soobin’s face.

His hands slid from the headboard and braced on the pillows near Soobin’s head as he began to move more earnestly. Slow, deep grinds turned messier and more desperate. 

“Soobin, fuck,” Beomgyu cried.

Besides the squelch of Soobin slurping him up, the only other sound in the room was Beomgyu’s broken breaths and the sound of rustling sheets. He hadn’t thought about Beomgyu’s dorm neighbors, didn’t care if a RA was called on them. Soobin had his omega in his mouth, fucking up against him.

When his thighs tensed and his movements started to grow lazier, Soobin adjusted. He began to move his tongue in wide strokes at first, letting Beomgyu adjust, letting him know it was okay to let Soobin make him feel good. 

Beomgyu’s body went still. Permission.

Soobin fisted the sheets and licked a stripe up Beomgyu’s puffy folds. He could barely breathe, crushed under his weight, but he would die here if it meant he got to hear Beomgyu’s soft whimper once more.

It only invigorated him to continue laving at him, flicking his tongue back and forth on his clit, letting his piercing create satisfying friction. Every time Soobin curled his tongue just right, Beomgyu would almost laugh — like it was driving him insane that something so filthy could feel this good.

“So good at this,” he moaned. “So good. Fuck, why are you so good at this?”

Soobin didn’t answer, couldn’t, and he didn’t need to. His tongue was made for this. Made to be drinking up Beomgyu’s slick, following every twitch and tremble with another suck where he was most sensitive. It was about finally doing what he’d dreamed of for so long.

With each pass of Soobin’s tongue, Beomgyu continued to rock. He was chasing his high with his eyes fluttered shut and whining too sweetly for him to bear. If Soobin were able to see him, he would knot in his pants from the sight.

Beomgyu’s fingers found his hair and he tugged on it, pads of his fingers gripping it from the root. Soobin groaned, encouraged as he licked deeper, messier, the wet sounds between them growing more obscene. In this position, Beomgyu could finally ride his face like he meant it.

 His jaw ached and his face was soaked. Yet, Soobin lapped at him messily, open-mouthed and so wet that a mixture of his saliva and Beomgyu’s slick rolled down his cheek. He was going to make Beomgyu finish, just like this. 

The suction of Soobin’s lips met every rut of Beomgyu’s hips until suddenly Beomgyu was folding over him like his body could no longer hold itself upright. One arm wrapped tightly around the crown of Soobin’s head and he used his last bit of strength to hump desperately on his tongue, crying out.

Soobin didn’t stop licking even after he was finished. Trying to draw every last drop of pleasure he could from him. He didn’t know how to stop.

A shaky breath. Then a tug at the root of his hair.

“Fuck, puppy, stop.”

And Soobin did immediately. Placing a final kiss to his clit, eyes wide and blown as Beomgyu lifted away from him and he fell back onto Soobin’s chest. 

There was no omega, no alpha, no one in the world more beautiful than Beomgyu was in this moment. He sat astride Soobin’s pecs with legs spread, spine arched in the aftermath of his own pleasure. His neck was bared as he sucked in air, small whines leaving him with each breath. Perspiration beaded at his brow and there was a faint blush on his cheeks that spread down to his neck. 

But when he looked at Soobin, there was the smallest smile that lit up his face entirely. Jaw slack in awe. “You look ruined.”

Soobin was panting, eyes glassy, mouth red and swollen. His tongue was lolled out in attempts to catch his breath,

"I am," he rasped.

With another breath, Beomgyu moved from his position and kneeled to straddle him once more. He was stronger than Soobin who was too fucked out to move from where he laid. 

Then, the light was gone and Beomgyu was leaning over him as he hooked a thumb into his mouth and pulled it wide.

“You really did that for me, didn’t you?”

Soobin nodded.

Beomgyu leaned in close. Cheek to cheek, lips near but not quite. Still not kissing.

“Don’t ever let anyone else feel it.”

“Never,” Soobin promised.

Their foreheads rested together and when Beomgyu finally laughed, winded, Soobin thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

When Soobin got back home, the alphas he lived with had congregated in the kitchen. Empty bottles were strewn around the living area and the pack of them were sweat-slick. Someone was slamming their palm against the bench, laughing too hard at a drinking game Soobin didn’t care to ask the name of.

As he slipped his coat off and hung it on the rack, one of them broke away and stumbled toward him

“Dude, you smell fucking crazy right now.”

Soobin wasn’t that kind of person, but if he was, he would have socked him in the mouth. No one should have the privilege of smelling Beomgyu on him. Not when it was still pressed against his skin, soaked into his clothes. 

He didn’t, though. He simply nodded and made his way to his bedroom and shut the door gently behind him. So different from every alpha he had ever known. Where could he ever fit in?

The room was dim, the only bit of light was the soft glow of his PC in sleep mode. He collapsed into his chair, still dazed. Still tasting him on his tongue.

He reached for the mouse and clicked.

Opened his browser.

Typed slowly.

Am I in love quiz

Question 1:
When you think about them, your first physical reaction is:
A) A little smile, maybe. Nothing crazy.
B) A tight chest, sweaty palms, dry mouth. Standard anxiety.
C) My heart tries to crawl out of my ribcage.
D) I forget how to function as a human person.

Question 2:
You’re apart for a few hours. What do you do?
A) Shrug. People are busy.
B) Check your phone once or twice, maybe reread old messages.
C) Watch their story 13 times. Accidentally like a photo from 2018.
D) Count down the minutes.

Question 3:
When they touch you (even a little), you feel:
A) Mildly flustered, in a cute way.
B) Like your skin was lit on fire in the best way possible.
C) Like you’re going to levitate out of your body.
D) Everything everywhere all at once.

Question 4:
When they’re with someone else, you:
A) Feel happy for them.
B) Pretend you’re fine. Spiral later.
C) Develop new levels of pettiness.
D) The green-eyed monster.

Question 5:
When they look at you like you’re their whole world, you:
A) Smile politely.
B) Forget how to breathe.
C) Want to memorize their face forever.
D) Would trade your lungs for another minute of that look.

Question 6:
You imagine your future and they’re:
A) Not really in the picture.
B) Maybe a passing character.
C) There, and it’s nice.
D) Holding your hand, making coffee in your kitchen, wearing your hoodie.

Question 7:
If they said, “Don’t ever let anyone else feel it,” you’d:
A) Be confused.
B) Think it was hot.
C) Agree.
D) Promise that you will never be with a person who is not them .

 

It was only when he had come out of it with a blinking 100% that he realized that it might have been the first time he had ever gotten full marks on anything in his life.

Chapter Text

'Cause you talk to me and it comes off the wall

You talk to me and it goes over my head

So let's go to bed before you say something real

Let's go to bed before you say how you feel

'Cause it's you

Oh, it's always you

Oh, I always knew

Oh, it's you

────── 〔✿〕──────

Soobin had been coming to Taehyun’s aunt’s lake house twice a year, ever since they met. Every summer had been the same: sunburnt tank-top lines branded into their soft skin, the air thick with sunscreen, perspiration collected at the nape of their youthful necks as they lounged on the pier or dared each other into the freezing water. 

Those sun-drenched days had a way of stretching endlessly, as if time itself melted under the heat. Mornings bled into afternoons, afternoons into the more golden evenings, the beating sun making everything so loose and sweet it felt like anything was possible. Back then, Yeonjun liked to pretend he was in charge. He would play house and try to delegate chores or lead the games, only to abandon his authority the second someone asked to play tag. It was always Taehyun who ended up taking the lead, commanding in the way only he could. He would be best at drawing the lines between right and wrong with maturity far beyond his years.

And the wrongs? Almost always enacted by Beomgyu. It was Beomgyu who used too much of the hot water, who dripped lake water across the kitchen tiles, who snuck whiskey from Taehyun’s aunt’s cabinet and drank it from her little teacups. And no one ever stayed mad at him. Not really. It was so hard to be.

Soobin, even back then, was never at the center of it. He would always hang at the seams, watching, absorbing. It was his favorite place to be. Because being the watcher meant he could bear witness to all the little things: the way Yeonjun laughed so hard he folded over, the way Taehyun’s voice got raspy when he was tired, and the way Beomgyu shone when he was caught in the gilded sunset; laughing too loud, cheeks flushed, so alive compared to the shadow Soobin constantly hid in.

It was a privilege. Watching the people he loved, love.

And then winter, shorter and more silent, when the lake froze over and warmth was only something a bonfire could provide. Even now some of his sweaters still smelled of smoke. Those winters were snowier and time wasn’t boundless, but frozen over. As if everything had been put on pause, just for them. 

But this winter was different. 

The lake didn’t freeze. Instead, its surface rolled in ripples — neither cold nor warm. The air was light, like the world itself had granted them a small reprieve. A few days where the Earth had said to them: Take this. You can rest now.

They crammed into Yeonjun’s old, battered Jeep like sardines. It had been handed down through two generations, its leather seats cracked and its heating barely functional. Beomgyu, as always, was the first to connect his phone to the AUX cord. No one ever tried to stop him anymore; they’d long since succumbed to the inevitable. The three-hour drive wasn’t so long with them together.

Back when they were kids, the trip had looked different: two separate cars, Taehyun’s mom in one, Soobin’s in the other. The adults would sit on the porch with mojitos in hand while the kids swung from tire swings and jumped off the dock. Life was louder then. Or maybe it was louder only in hindsight.

Not like now.

Now, Beomgyu’s thigh pressed against Soobin’s. It was innocent enough; space was tight in the backseat. Soobin felt it in his chest this time even if it wasn’t the first time they’d sat like this. But this time, everything was cracked wire. An electrical socket that dangled precariously. Every bump in the road, every bit of Beomgyu’s weight against him.

Because Soobin now knew what that quiet, hidden word was. The one he had run from for so long.

Thinking about it now, it felt silly to only realize in his mid-twenties that Beomgyu wasn’t just a best friend to him. When did it all begin? Was every moment blanketed by that warm affection, even the ones that felt so casual? 

Soobin had been so lost in thought he barely registered them pulling into the gravel driveway. The lake house was a spectacle, even after all these years. Two-stories, wooden beams and stone-built. The kind of home that would survive the test of time. 

“Out,” Beomgyu kicked his ankle. “I’ve been breathing your hot air for too long.”

Soobin pouted. “When has that ever been a problem?”

He thought he was being quiet, but Taehyun snickered from the other side of the backseat. Beomgyu nudged him again in the side. “Not funny.”

They piled out of the car and hurried for their bags because they knew it didn’t take long for the sky to turn against them. Rain was torrential and snow wouldn’t be far behind, but they ran the risk every time. The five of them stealing these moments for themselves was sacrifice; that is what their connection had always been built upon. Endless work, maintenance. It didn’t feel that way all the time. Sometimes their friendship was easy and smooth as the dormant lake.

It was the one thing Soobin had. The one thing he wouldn’t ever give up. So why had he and Beomgyu made it more difficult? Soobin could have willed those feelings away, he could have. He could have. And now he can’t. They have settled in his belly like sinking skipping stones.

“You’re thinking too much.”

Kai dropped Soobin’s bag down in front of him, shaking him from his reverie. “Not too much. Just the right amount.”

“Nuh-uh. You were swaying and everything. I thought you were going to fall over.”

“Kai, you know he just does that.” Beomgyu had materialized out of nowhere, as he normally did — only in his dreams though. “The leg tapping and the swaying. It soothes his pretty head.”

Soobin rolled his eyes and swung his duffel across his shoulder. The gravel rolled around under the sole of his shoe as he walked away from them to the front door. 

“I can’t do anything with you guys around. Not even sway.”

Beomgyu jogged to catch up to him, empty-handed. Kai had taken his bags like the angel he was. “You can’t do anything unless I tell you to.”

“Yeah I can. Just did.”

“More fun when you are a big play-thing.”

Soobin scuffed his shoes at the door before taking them off and putting them into the shelf right by it. Now on his knees, he motioned Beomgyu forward.

With an arch of his brow, “What?”

“You are wearing Docs in the mud. I’ll untie them.”

For a second, Soobin thought he wouldn’t move. It was more likely that Beomgyu would make a teasing comment or a curt remark like he did at the laundromat. Instead, he stepped forward and lifted one foot slightly, placing it between Soobin’s knees.

Soobin’s fingers worked around the laces to untie them and he gently placed a finger in the heel of the shoe so Beomgyu could slip out of them easier. 

“You’re so serious about it,” Beomgyu laughed beneath his breath.

Soobin didn’t look up. “I don’t want you tracking mud through the house. You know Taehyun’s aunt will kill us.”

He tried to hide the blush of his cheeks when he had slid Beomgyu’s shoes beside his own, reaching for the door handle, opening it to go inside.

It didn’t take long for them all to settle in once they had unloaded their bags. It was like laying down old roots; they had done it so many times before that they could track their footprints in the carpet. The thought made something heavy settle in Soobin’s chest — he never thought of himself as nostalgic, but his much smaller feet had once stepped the same path. Things were so different back then, so simple.

Yeonjun planted himself in the middle of the living room the moment they were all inside. “Alright, I’m taking the main room, as per. Taehyun, still okay bunking with Kai?”

Taehyun, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost, nodded a little too quickly. 

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at Kai. “If you’re okay with that.”

Kai didn’t meet his gaze. Too focused on the lake outside. “Yeah. If you are.”

Soobin glanced between them, turning to Beomgyu with a raise of his brow. Beomgyu shrugged. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones navigating something volatile.

Yeonjun pressed his lips into a line, clearly clocking it too, before he turned toward Beomgyu. “And you’re good sharing with the big guy?”

Soobin opened his mouth at the exact same time as Beomgyu.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Soobin said.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Beomgyu said.

A beat passed.

Yeonjun sighed, pinching his nose. “We aren’t doing this. Be normal, everyone. We are here to get drunk and slightly aroused, not whatever this is.”

Beomgyu cleared his throat, standing abruptly. He was wearing his usual ripped jeans and band tee, but it would be traded out for a sweater or a hoodie sooner or later. Soobin understood it as something he acted out — he wore a costume, something he could shuck on to become someone he had always wanted to be. It never lasted long at the lake house. All of that ended up sinking into the floorboards until it was finally time to leave; it was absorbed by the water and smoke.

“Good chat, everyone. This time tomorrow?”

Taehyun pressed his lips together and nodded. “Let’s avoid all meetings led by Yeonjun from now on.”

“Hey, it was you who made it awkward, not me.”

“You know those weird camp counselors?” Kai asked. “He is like those guys. The really sex-positive ones who call you a legend and stuff.”

Tension began to thaw as they laughed and chatted amongst themselves. They were all beginning to move toward their bags, luggage mostly duffel bags besides Yeonjun’s. He had brought an actual suitcase, hard-shell, the kind that clacked each time it passed over a divot in the ground.

The floorboards could almost sag beneath the weight of their ten feet rattling the house, each of them unpacking and reaching for their swimsuit. It was too cold; there was no way it was safe to swim in the lake. But it was tradition, and in their friendship, tradition is what held them together.

Soobin climbed the stairs and stood outside the wooden door that led to he and Beomgyu’s room. The handle was chipped, paint worn down from summers spent going in and out barefoot and sun-drunk.

His best friend didn’t seem to care much about their living arrangement, he was already unloading onto the left side of the bed. Made himself thoroughly at home.

Beomgyu glanced up, one eyebrow cocked as he shoved a handful of shirts into a drawer. “You gonna stand there and wait for me to knight you inside? I grant you permission, your majesty. Enter.”

He couldn’t help but hesitate in the doorway.“Are you sure you’re fine with this?”

“Soobin, not only have I slept in this bed with you before, but I also sat on your face last week.”

Soobin’s eyes widened, looking left, then right, behind him and then finally settling on Beomgyu again. “Be quiet. Do you want them to hear?”

He tossed a pair of jeans onto the bed and leaned his hip against the creaky bed frame with crossed arms. “No, that would be against the rules. And you know I’m one of the best rule-followers. So are you.”

Soobin’s throat worked around a swallow, his fingers gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles went pale.

Beomgyu’s hearth eyes, the warmest brown he had ever seen, had begun trailing down his body. It was as if he made sure to catalogue every part of him. The shake of his fingers, of his legs. His mouth that was usually turned up in a smirk had softened and suddenly he looked meek. Gentle.

“Close the door.” He coughed, turning back to the bed. “You’re letting the heat out, gonna catch a cold.”

It was hard to be in the same room as this Beomgyu. The one that showed he cared. It gave Soobin a false sense of hope. The kind that sounded like I feel the same way . That was dangerous.

So he unpacked at his own pace, trying not to breathe in Beomgyu’s honey scent. Without the dust and grime in the metropolitan, it was brighter. Nothing but salty air and the smell of him.

He also tried not to look up and watch him undress. He was facing the wall this time, more modest than usual. However, it only made it worse. It gave Soobin an unobstructed view of his back, the fragile line of his spine leading down to the tattoo grazing his tailbone. A love heart drawn to look like spiderwebs, two redbacks on either side. He would give anything — anything — to press his lips to it, to feel the shiver he knew would ripple through Beomgyu’s body.

“You’re going in, right?” Beomgyu asked once he finished dressing.

“Yeah,” Soobin managed roughly. “Of course.”

Beomgyu turned then, ruffling his mussed hair, the strands curling softly against his cheeks. He looked so painfully effortless, so alive in this place.

“Good.” A hint of a smile made its way across his face, the corner of his lips turning downward. “I’ll wait for you.”

Tradition implied that Soobin did this every time he visited the lake house, but that would be wrong. There was that winter in 2016, the one so cold it felt like the air itself might shatter if you blew out a puff of breath. The snow had come early that year, frosting the pier in a brilliant white.

Taehyun had been the one to dare them all, back when his voice was high and childish. “Just your toes! Come on!” Yeonjun and Kai had stood at the edge, shoving each other — I’ll do it if you do it. I’ll push you in. Taehyun, knobby knees and knobbier elbows, had ended up ramming them both in, giggling as he leaped in after them. Their screams had rung across the lake, echoing across the vast landscape.

Soobin remembered all of it in vivid detail; but what he remembered most was Beomgyu. Smaller then, shivering with nerves even as excitement lit up his whole face, eyes glittering with something Soobin didn’t have a name for back then. Hadn’t read enough books to know many words. He had leaned close, breath hot against the shell of Soobin’s ear, close enough that the strands of his bangs brushed his cheek.

“I’ll go in if you do,” he had whispered.

Soobin had tried to be casual and played it off with a shrug, though the nearness was enough to send sparks dancing across his skin.

“Not gonna. You can, though.”

Beomgyu had looked at him then. Really looked. Like he was trying to read through every layer Soobin kept hidden. His lips parted slightly, a question there that never quite left his mouth.

“You sure? I can hold your hand.”

Soobin had shaken his head, looking away to not face the disappointment on Beomgyu’s face. “No. It’s okay.”

There was a pause, then, without another word, Beomgyu had turned and ran. A wild, fearless cannonball that sent water exploding up in a glittering hoop around him. He hadn’t screamed like the others, just disappeared for a moment beneath the surface before bursting up again, hair plastered to his forehead.

It had been a prophecy. The writing on the walls of their friendship that Soobin couldn’t yet read: Beomgyu always dived headfirst. Soobin always hesitated, clinging to the shore.

But now, standing at the edge of the same lake, Soobin felt it in his marrow. He couldn’t hesitate anymore. Not when the entire world felt like it had shrunk to this moment, to this boy who had once offered to hold his hand.

This time, he would jump.

Now 24 years-old, he was standing in the backroom of the house dripping wet and cold. He had let Beomgyu pull him into the water because he had grown weak. So many years of fighting it, every tendon, muscle, had become tired. 

It was worth it, though. Because now Beomgyu was stood in front of him with his hair soaked, long strands strewn across his cheekbones and curling beneath his jaw. He was furiously toweling himself off, agitating his skin red raw. Soobin tried not to stare; but it was difficult when he was given Beomgyu’s bare skin on a platter. He followed every sweep of the towel, wishing to be in its place. 

Then, without hesitation, Beomgyu hooked his thumbs into the band of his swim shorts and dragged them down. The fabric caught on his feet as he tried to kick them into a corner.

“Jesus,” Soobin spluttered, turning toward the wall. “Someone could come in, Bam.”

Beomgyu didn’t pause, unbothered. “Why does it matter? They’ve all seen me naked.”

The floorboards creaked as Soobin shifted, the house groaning beneath him like it, too, couldn’t believe it. He pressed his towel harder against his own chest as if it could somehow shield him from the implications.

“Why have I never seen you naked then? I mean, before the friends with benefits thing. We’ve known each other for so long.”

Beomgyu paused in the middle of wiping off his legs. His brows pulled together into a frown, corners of his mouth twitching like he was debating whether or not to answer.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “It would’ve been awkward.”

Soobin turned to look at him, watching the way Beomgyu’s stare had shifted to the window, out toward the glisten of the lake's surface. Their friends were still there, paddling their feet and talking about things that Soobin and Beomgyu would never know about. They all shared one thing in common — they each had their people.

“Why awkward with me, but not with them?” Soobin asked, softer this time.

Beomgyu's shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug, but he didn’t look at him. “Because it’s you.”

What could that have meant? Soobin wracked his brain for it, tried to place it somewhere. Because it’s you. Because you are someone special to me. Because it scares me most being bare in front of you, it’s something so much more.

But that was reading into it. There was so much that could be hidden between the lines.

The stairs groaned as Soobin dragged his feet up them, calf muscles pulsing with each step. His body ached from hauling logs to the firepit and his palms were still red raw from the bark. Taehyun had insisted they prep for the following morning, creating a pile of wood so they didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn in the freezing cold.

And Yeonjun, wrapped up in a cardigan on the patio rocking chair with a beer in hand, had decided that since Soobin was the only alpha, he should carry the heaviest logs.

Soobin wasn’t weak. But he also hadn’t been to a gym since freshman year, and now his limbs felt like wet cement. His shoulders burned. His back throbbed. All he wanted was to collapse into bed.

But the bed was another hurdle he hadn’t crossed.

It was so hard when everything in him told him not to enter the room: the wind howling behind the timber panels of the house, the stairs that threatened to collapse beneath him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

It wasn’t as though they had never shared a bed. They do it all the time, so wrapped up in each other that their bodies merge into one. But this feeling was new. The one where sleeping together had suddenly become special to Soobin. He had realized that he wanted to spend a thousand mornings just the two of them. That was what felt so new.

But Soobin didn’t even make it to the bedroom door. He didn’t get to glance in and see if Beomgyu had already curled under the covers, hoodie pulled over his head the way he liked to sleep when it was cold. The bathroom next door was lit warmly, the door slightly ajar.

He was a ghost when it came to Beomgyu; always had the tendency to float without knowing where he was going. His body always moved first. Like some part of him knew before he did: knew that Beomgyu was nearby, how to find him even in a crowded room, even if they hadn't spoken in hours, even if his mind was clouded and tired.

That wasn’t friendship, it never was. He knew that now. Too late to change how long he’d pretended otherwise. The way he lost sleep, lying awake at night thinking about if Beomgyu would glance at him first before the others. That slight eye contact that always heated him from the inside out; no, that wasn’t what friendship was.

So many wasted days and so much time spent ignoring the way his heart had always, always, understood who Beomgyu was to him.

And still, his feet carried him forward, toward the half-open door, toward the hazy light from the bathroom, toward Beomgyu. 

When he pushed it open, Beomgyu was sat on the edge of the bathtub and combing at his damp hair. It clung to his neck and cheeks, sticking in messy strands as he dragged a comb through it with frustrated motions.

He was wearing one of Kai’s old band tees, oversized and falling halfway down his thighs, but otherwise he was bare; legs curled up beneath him, skin dewy and flushed from the heat of his shower. Soobin caught the pale shine of his knees, the curve of his calf, then looked quickly away. Looked instead at the bottle of detangler sitting on the counter.

“Fucking lake water,” Beomgyu muttered petulantly. “Made my hair smell all weird. I even used Taehyun’s aunt's shampoo, the strawberry one.”

Soobin leaned against the archway and took a deep breath. “Smells like old people.”

Beomgyu stuck his tongue out at him.

Every time he caught on a knot, his face would twist up and he would wrench it through unceremoniously. Why was he always so gentle handling everything but himself?

He watched a little longer and couldn’t stop his heart from aching at the sight.

“Here,” he said, stepping fully into the room. “Give it to me. I’ll help.”

Beomgyu blinked at him as he made his way over. When he got closer to the tub, he held out a palm. Eyes wide as a doe’s, Beomgyu passed him the comb. 

Soobin dropped to one knee in front of him, comb at the ready. He began at the ends and tried his best to be gentle, untangling each knot as if it were thread being unwinded. And then Beomgyu relaxed, exhaled softly and closed his eyes. Fell completely into Soobin’s touch. 

Beomgyu moved slightly so the fabric of his tee rested on the porcelain instead of his bare thigh, so cold in the room that Soobin moved closer to transfer his warmth. He kept combing until it passed clean.

“You’re always so rough with yourself. I swear you treat your guitar better..”

Beomgyu kicked him softly in the backside. “Only one of us costs more than a million won.”

Soobin smiled, eyes glancing over his skin that was damp and freckled, the beginning of a sunburn along his neck. He was stunning, unfairly so. His body unconsciously tipped toward him and he breathed in faintly. Even through the lakewater and strawberry shampoo a la Taehyun’s aunt, Beomgyu still smelled like himself. Like honey and sweat, like the winter air outside. 

He parted another section, his fingers brushing against the back of Beomgyu’s neck, and he felt him shiver.

“Sorry,” Soobin whispered.

“It’s okay,” Beomgyu replied, matching his tone. “You’re gentle.”

Soobin didn’t say anything to that, just kept combing. The silence wasn’t something they felt the need to fill. There was only their shallow breathing, the hiss of underused pipes and the occasional creak of the old house settling into its bones.

Beomgyu’s eyes were still shut but his head tilted ever so slightly toward Soobin’s touch, not leaning exactly, but not not leaning. Was it weird to overthink something so casual? Should he be overthinking every move his best friend makes, using each expression to confirm he feels the same too? It didn’t feel fair.

Soobin combed behind his ear and took a breath.

“You used to sit in front of me in class,” Soobin said suddenly, the words bubbling up before he could stop them. “And I always wanted to touch your hair.”

Beomgyu’s shoulders stilled.

“I know that sounds weird. But it’s true, you’d play with the ends when you were bored. Or run your fingers through it when you were nervous. And I just… wanted to.” Soobin added, trying not to look up and see if Beomgyu was watching him.

There was quiet for a moment. Then: “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think I was allowed.”

This time, Beomgyu lifted a hand to Soobin’s chin. It was barely a graze of touch, but Soobin lifted his head to meet his eyes anyway.

“You’re allowed now.”

And Soobin, still holding the comb, still crouched in front of him, nodded. Then he gently it down on the counter and reached up with his hands instead.

Fingers threaded through damp strands, combing now not for the sake of detangling but just to feel. He pushed Beomgyu’s hair back from his face and tucked it behind his ears, then let his hands settle on the nape of his neck to play with the long strands there. He was allowed to do that now.

Beomgyu’s eyes fluttered closed again.

He tried to huff out a small laugh, then whispered, “You’re going to make me cry,”

“In a good way?”

A beat.

“In a good way.”

Neither of them moved; not yet. Just skin against skin and the ache of their entanglement strewn along the bathroom tile like a web of intestines. That’s what it felt like to be honest with Beomgyu sometimes. Reaching a hand inside and laying yourself out for him — blood in the grout, muscle and nerve endings scattered. You can have me, all of me. This is all for you.

Soobin let his fingers trail down the length of Beomgyu’s hair one more time before drawing them back. His hair was still damp but it had begun to dry. It could have been hours, days, of them sitting there on the edge of the tub. He glanced around the counter for something, then picked up his black hair tie from beside the sink. It was one of Beomgyu’s, the one he would slap against his skin to ease whatever had boiled up inside of him. Sometimes anxiety, sometimes excitement. He just needed to take hold of something.

“Can I?” Soobin asked, already reaching up.

Beomgyu gave a small nod, didn’t speak. He just tilted his chin upward slightly and offered him his neck.

Soobin gathered the strands as gently as he could muster, thumbs brushing the soft skin behind the shell of Beomgyu’s ears, fingers grazing the base of his skull. He drew the hair back into what he hoped was a ponytail, twisting the tie clumsily. It was something he’d never done for him before but had always wanted to do. All Soobin had ever wanted was to see that pretty face.

As he nudged back a few wisps with the palm of his hands, his fingertips lingered at the scent gland at the hollow of his neck. His skin was still warm from the shower and it pulsed beneath his touch. Was he just as nervous?

“There. Is that okay?”

Beomgyu lifted himself just enough to look in the mirror and he smiled fondly down at him. “It’s so bad. I’ve never seen a ponytail so bad in my life.”

Soobin couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. Leave it to Beomgyu to ruin the mood. “You’re so annoying. It looks the same as you normally do.”

Beomgyu didn’t smile, not this time. He only looked at him.

“I want to say something,” he breathed, “but I’m scared it’ll ruin this.”

Soobin exhaled. Oh . “Say it anyway.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he propped himself comfortably on the lip of the tub, legs brushing Soobin’s as he reached up to tug at the ponytail.

Hoarsely, “It’s tight.”

Soobin groaned and got up, running a palm over his face. Fantasy over.

“Don’t come to bed tonight thinking I’m going to touch you, you don’t deserve it. Stay on your side.”

He didn’t want to sleep just yet. Sometimes he snored and Beomgyu would kick him beneath the blankets, whisper-shouting that he wasn’t able to sleep. So, that night, he let Beomgyu rest first.

What Soobin hadn’t expected when he quietly opened the front door to the porch was that Yeonjun would still be there. He was still holding his empty beer bottle close, but his guitar laid across his lap. 

His fiery red hair was windswept as he turned to him. “It’s cold, go back inside.”

Soobin shook his head and flopped down beside him, the swing groaning from their weight. Finally without Beomgyu next to him he felt like he could breathe.

“Oh, Soobin. You look a mess.”

He tried to suppress the grin that worked its way across his face. “Thanks, you’ve always known how to make a person feel good.”

Yeonjun sighed, a finger strumming along the strings of the guitar. He had learned how to play when Kai had asked him to; telling him their plans to start a band with Beomgyu. It fit him, even if he hadn’t thought so at the time. 

He had always been larger than life, too radiant. Soobin didn’t even think the end of the world could touch him. He could picture it: the aftermath, the ruins, the dust settling over the earth like snowfall, and Yeonjun standing there, somehow untouched, shaking the debris from his hair like it was nothing. He would be fine. Of all of them, he was the one who would be able to survive the demise of their friendship. Because Yeonjun wasn’t just a person; he was a star, burning too bright to be extinguished. Someone else would love him just as much as they did.

Maybe that had been Soobin’s fear all along. That without them, without Beomgyu, Soobin was nothing.

“You know,” Yeonjun started. “I don’t think I really understood whatever was going on between you and Beomgyu until recently.”

Soobin turned to him, wide eyed. “There isn’t anything going on.”

“I can lie, too. I think you are really cool and I love your wardrobe.”

“Asshole.”

Yeonjun chuckled but continued strumming. “I hope you make peace with it all one day. It’s tearing you apart, we all see it.”

Soobin looked up at the stars and he felt the innate need to trace its edges. It was a ball of gas, not the five-points he was taught to draw in first grade, but it comforted him more to think of it that way. That even out in the vast universe, there would always be the five of them.

“Do you think that I’ve ruined everything?”

Yeonjun shrugged, “I don’t know what you’ve done. You don’t tell us anything.”

“I can’t,” Soobin breathed.

“Then I can’t answer that question, Bin. All I know is that Beomgyu is your best friend and so am I. We just love you differently.”

That word.

“How is it different?”

“Oh, come on,” Yeonjun laughed. It was a beautiful sound that spilled out across the front lawn like fruit seeds. Soobin thought that if Yeonjun walked by them they would bloom. “You know the answer to that.”

The next morning, Soobin had to peel Beomgyu’s legs from around his middle. They were hooked tight at the ankles and locked across his waist. He paused for a moment to savor it all: the way his face was pressed into the crook of Soobin’s neck, breath fanning out in puffs, how his smaller body couldn’t span him entirely.

It was harder during the night as he was trying to sleep. Beomgyu had sidled up behind him and let a cold fingertrip trace the bumps and ridges of his spine, a hand up his t-shirt. Soobin had been rock hard for hours and almost succumbed to Beomgyu’s temptress ways when the pads of his fingers teased the hem of his underwear.

“Beomgyu, not tonight. I’m too tired.”

He laughed and Soobin could feel it at the back of his neck. “Not fucking you with Minecraft boxers on, anyway.”

Soobin fell asleep at four in the morning, and even then, REM barely came to him.

So, this morning he needed coffee.

Soobin had one last glimpse at Beomgyu’s hands that rested on the flex of his abs, then he tried to untangle himself. Beomgyu mumbled something and tightened for a second before letting go, flopping onto his stomach and snoring once more.

He plodded downstairs, doing his best to step lightly on the floorboards that were in dire need of replacement. The cold air nipped at his ankles and he hugged himself as he made his way into the kitchen.

Mornings were beautiful here because — unlike the university campus’ stench of cigarette smoke and old pizza — the lake house was all old firewood and pine needles. Even the simple act of grinding beans for his latte was a peaceful respite. The whirring of the grinder and the hiss of the milk steamer was a welcome sound, not offensive like it normally would have been. Soobin leaned in and let the steam warm his face; huffing the sweet smell of milk.

Once he finished, he had to settle for coffee in a teacup because it was all that was in the house. Feeling like an established gentleman, he made his way over to the worn and weathered sofa and curled his long legs beneath him.

A dog-eared novel waited on the armrest where he had it last: The Hobbit , again. He would finish it this time. He would make it past the first chapter. The words blurred for a moment, his mind back upstairs to where Beomgyu slept, sheets tangled around his bare legs.

He was never going to finish the first chapter.

It only took fifteen minutes for Beomgyu to wake up, which was strange given he roused late like a bear would. Probably sensed Soobin’s absence and felt the innate need to irritate him more.

Beomgyu passed through the room, yawning. “That can’t be what I think it is.”

“Oh but it is, Ewok.”

“You’ve been reading that book since, what, senior year?”

Soobin tried to raise his voice above the hiss of the kettle that Beomgyu had turned on. “I already put the cocoa in the teacup by the fridge, you just need to heat the milk in the microwave. Don’t have tea, you don’t even like it.”

When he didn’t answer, Soobin looked up from his book and found Beomgyu staring at him. Eventually, he nodded and mumbled a soft, “Thanks.”

Beomgyu moved around the kitchen and heated the milk just as Soobin had told him to, following instructions for the very first time.

When the cocoa was finally ready, Beomgyu carried it over to the couch. Instead of sitting at the other end like he usually did when he was teasing him, he hovered in front of Soobin for a moment.

He looked up from his book, eyebrows quirking in question. Before he could ask, Beomgyu set the mug down on the coffee table and, with a sigh, sat beside him and then fully laid down, resting his head right in Soobin’s lap.

There were plenty of times where Beomgyu had rested his head in Soobin’s lap, each time making his heart race. This time, however, Soobin was allowed to touch the way he always wanted to. He had permission to touch the pretty omega in his lap, hair spilling messily over his thighs.

“Comfy?” Soobin asked, one hand coming down to card gently through Beomgyu’s hair.

Beomgyu hummed and closed his eyes. “Mhm. You’re warm.”

Soobin tried to turn back to his book, thumb brushing over Beomgyu’s temple, but it was so hard. Every little rise and fall of Beomgyu’s breathing felt like a direct stab at his own. How could he possibly care for fantasy when his very favorite was laying just shy of his crotch, bare-faced and tired?

Beomgyu cracked one eye open at some point and caught Soobin staring down at him, a smirk across his face

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Soobin lied, cheeks pink as he looked back at the book, though he wasn’t truly seeing any of it.

Beomgyu let out a small laugh and shuffled closer, nuzzling against Soobin’s stomach. His hot cocoa still steamed on the coffee table but he had a feeling that making it was only an excuse to come downstairs.

Soobin lowered the book to rest against Beomgyu’s shoulder, letting his fingers run down the smooth skin of his cheek. Then he moved up to the shell of his ear and played with the piercings that ran across his lobe. So much metal, so many things that Beomgyu had experienced without him.

His eyelids shut again as Soobin scratched at his scalp.

Soobin’s heart ached with how easy it was to take care of him like this. To cradle him close and keep his cold body warm, finally feel like an alpha who was capable of protecting his omega. He wanted to press a kiss to his forehead, to his hair, anywhere he could reach. But that wasn’t allowed, not yet.

Eyes still closed, “You’re staring, again.”

Soobin swallowed, his thumb brushing softly over the curve of his jaw. “Can’t help it.”

“You should be reading. You have, like, eight million pages to go.”

Beomgyu’s fingers came up to toy with Soobin’s shirt like he had last night, tugging gently at him, needing something to hold onto. It was like he was melting into his lap.

“You could read to me.”

Soobin’s hands stopped their movement. “Really?”

“I like your voice,” Beomgyu admitted, shy in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.

“From the beginning?”

Sleepily, “Yeah…”

Soobin couldn’t stop the pounding beneath his ribs as he picked up the book again. He cleared his throat softly and began to read, trying for something soft so as to not disturb him.

“ In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort…”

Beomgyu listened in silence, his breathing syncing with the cadence of Soobin’s words. Every now and then, he would press his nose against Soobin’s stomach and sidle closer; as if nothing would ever feel close enough. He felt the same way more often than not.

Soobin read on and even when Beomgyu finally drifted off, his fingers still curled in Soobin’s shirt, he kept reading. For him, for himself, for the softness of the moment.

“...It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle.”

That morning, Soobin read exactly six chapters.

It wasn’t cold that afternoon, there was no wind so the lake stood still as they hung in the middle of it. Beomgyu was laying back against the canoe’s rear, an arm hanging out to reach the water. His fingers danced across the surface of it, trying to catch the glint of sunlight that dotted along it. It sparkled as he did; a mirrorball that cast its light upon Soobin. Little shapes formed on his skin from it.

There was so much all around him — massive pines that would soon be blanketed in white snow, the smoke that drifted from the lake house's chimney, a tundra of land around them  — and yet all he could look at was his best friend.

His hair splayed out on the weathered wood with its jagged, self-cut edges. His unfocused eyes stared out into the vastness. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the same breath he so desperately wanted to have for his own. That oxygen, mixed in his own lungs. Nothing would ever be close enough to be satiated.

How ridiculous that he only now knew that the word he was looking for rhymed with above and shove and dove. The word that had only two syllables but felt like it should have more. Four letters, but it encompassed so much more than that.

Soobin wasn’t daft. He had said it once before but that was half-hearted. There was still a part of him that believed maybe he was giving himself too much credit. Now, though, he had bravery that was only obtained when you have finally beat a boss battle. It was the same kind of recognition, he imagined, that Anakin must have felt the moment he discovered the Force was his. That strange, sweeping feeling of oh, of course.

 Of it’s always been this.

It has always been Beomgyu laying back and reflecting his light upon whoever comes in his path and Soobin basking in it hoping that, one day, it will be shone onto him.

“How come we never dated?”

Soobin had startled as if it hadn’t fallen from his own mouth. It was more of a tumble, his tongue unconsciously speaking his thoughts aloud.

Beomgyu stilled, but his fingers stayed in the water. Soobin wanted to pull them out and warm them in his hand.

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t know what he meant. It was a silly question and it made no sense. But he couldn’t control his mouth.

“I mean,” Soobin felt his throat tighten around the shape of each letter, “is there a reason that you didn’t look at me in high school?”

Beomgyu didn’t turn his head, but his eyes glanced over at him. He was so close but felt so far. His voice was light when he said, “I looked at you.”

“You dated Yeonjun. I know it was only for a few days, pretty much nothing, but you loved him for a moment.”

There was nothing but birdsong and silence; the sway of trees because the wind was just beginning to pick up. Soobin felt the chill of it before he heard it, his knuckles were starting to pink. He wanted to reach across and wrap Beomgyu in his arms to protect him from it. 

As Soobin was about to speak to break the tension, apologize for bringing it up, Beomgyu spoke.

“I didn’t love Yeonjun like that. We realized pretty quickly it wasn’t anything, we were too young and I was exploring all those leftover feelings from puberty. I don’t know, it was hard to compartmentalize everything into neat sections. Like that one is happiness and that one is depression , it was harder knowing the spectrum of like back then. I thought I loved everyone.”

He was right. It was all those nights they spent in each other’s arms as teenagers, it was so vivid in his mind. Back then everything had that sheen of taffeta over it as if each of those moments were protected by their bedroom walls. It didn’t mean anything if it was in their hideaway, they could practice kissing without it meaning something more. 

Beomgyu was making sure he knew what love meant and exploring what it felt like. His hands were smaller back then and they would always rest on his thigh as he shyly leaned forward to peck him on the lips. He was less cool back then; his glasses would fog up when their breath mixed. 

That unclear feeling Soobin felt back then, the one he felt in the pit of his stomach…

“You know what growing up was like for me,” Beomgyu continued. “I was constantly fighting to be understood. I love my parents, I don't even know where I'd be without them, but they knew I was different. It wasn't some cipher to figure out, I guess. Always been strange. I could always kind of tell they loved the version of their son that lived in their head. The good omega kind. A good boy, wore good clothes, neat hair and all. I tried so hard to be that person and at some point I realized that part of my sense of self had become untethered and it was all fragments of someone who didn't really exist.

I've always been left with this dread and I never understood what it meant, where the feeling stemmed from. I was all sorts of different people depending on who I was with and I think it was to make them happy. I knew how to make people love me because I had been doing it my whole life."

Soobin knew all of his smiles because had spent years cataloguing them like a collector. The one that creased his eyes and made him look like sunlight, the close-lipped one he reserved for people he knew but only just barely, and the one that was only ever meant for him. That one wasn’t about teeth or dimples; it was all in the eyes. Soft and just like his honey scent.

But this smile didn’t touch the corners of his eyes. It didn’t soften the little crease in his brow or awaken the dimple near his left cheek. It felt artificial, a patchwork of expressions assembled like paper mache crafting. A smile stitched together.

"Always felt like a shapeshifter. It gave me a little bit of relief back then, you know, to think of it that way. I just adapt to different people. Now it feels like I'm a liar. There's something manipulative about it, don't you think? It isn't right. I've been getting better though. Back then there were so many Beomgyu's that I didn't know who was who, but I think this is me. My parents would hate it. I normally change outfits when I go back home."

After Beomgyu trailed off, Soobin moved his boot slowly over to Beomgyu's leg. He rubbed the sole of it slowly up and down his calf. To soothe, to let him know he was there. That he was listening. 

“You know, I think that’s why I’ve been single so long,” Beomgyu laughed. “Everyone is always getting a different version of me.”

"I've always known who you were," Soobin's voice carried through the air like a whisper. He thought each word might be taken with the wind.

But Beomgyu heard. He knew because his boot made the same motion Soobin was.

“Which me do you know?”

Without hesitation, “All of them.”

His fingers that had been still in the cold water began to move again, this time, two fingers walking along the surface.

“Do you like them all?”

Was there a part of Beomgyu that he didn’t like? He couldn’t think of one. Soobin had spent his whole life devoting himself to every aspect of him; the good, the bad, the parts of himself he couldn’t accept. Now that he could put a word to it, it was so much easier to answer.

“I like them all.”

Beomgyu, who was looking at him, turned back to the water. He nodded his head slowly, his hair falling into his eyes with the effort. “Okay.”

The cold was starting to settle in now, they should be heading back. Beomgyu still made no move to sit back up. He laid there as if he were a stone.

The bonfire crackled; amber and ash floating like a cloud above their heads, the logs stiff beneath them. It was nights like this that Soobin enjoyed most: the ones that were warm, right by Beomgyu’s side. His thighs, just barely grazing his, radiated the most heat. He imagined what it would be like between them…

But that he already knew. Had spent the night between them just the week before, could feel the wetness against his cheek even still. It was hard to give it up — that need, the one that clawed against his ribs. Harder was it to sit next to Beomgyu now after finally understanding his true feelings, the not so desperate ones.

Those ones were more dangerous. They came mostly during the day. That morning, when Beomgyu dipped his converse into the chilled lake, frost was just beginning to create a hard shell along the surface. Soobin had quickly pulled him by the elbow and had dropped to his knees, the bone cracking as it bent. He had delicately grabbed the hem of Beomgyu’s jeans and rolled them up once, then twice, making sure it didn’t get wet.

That, to Soobin, was hard to manage.

The feelings that made him want to care of his omega; the protective instinct, the need to take his hands and warm them between his own.

Kai knocked his knee with his own and the log they sat on groaned as Soobin jumped from his stupor. “S’more?”

Soobin looked down at Kai’s open hand: graham crackers, marshmallows and a bar of milk chocolate that was already half-eaten. The two of them had snacked on it before dinner. He couldn’t say no to something so sweetly decadent. Always a sucker for something sweet.

“Make one for me.”

And because Kai was so kind, he started gently stacking the s’more. “So are you going to tell us what’s going on or are we going to have to figure it out through context clues.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Soobin said quickly. Too quickly, because Kai smiled in his direction and then down at his leg that jittered. “It’s nothing.”

Kai held the stuffed crackers over the open fire and leaned to rest his chin on his hand. It felt wrong to lie to him; especially when he had been with Soobin through everything. He remembered when Kai was smaller, how he had clung to him in the early days, looking up to him with wide eyes. Now he was nearly his equal in height, maybe even stronger. The years had shaped him into something steadfast, the silent pillar of their group. And yet, in this moment, he felt young again as if the firelight were a rearview mirror.

“I don’t know what to do, Kai,” Soobin whispered.

Kai nodded as if he knew, anyway. He had probably always known. Maybe Soobin was the only one who didn’t. 

“I think you are scared of being wrong. But you are wrong about a lot of things, so what’s different about this one?” Before Soobin could pout or deny it, Kai continued. “Sometimes I think that you don’t let yourself have things because the idea of losing them hurts too much. I get it, obviously. No one wants to feel loss. But you would never lose him, there is no place in the world where he wouldn’t follow you.”

Soobin shook his head, “You’re wrong. It’s the other way around. I’ll always be his follower.”

Kai took the s’more off the fire and began peeling the burnt coating off the marshmallow — he knew what Soobin liked. To be loved is to be known, or something like that.

“I don’t think you know Beomgyu at all.”

And before Soobin could reply, Kai had given his knee a squeeze before passing him the s'more and getting up to pad softly over the mulch to Taehyun and Yeonjun who were huddled on another log. 

Soobin turned back toward the house, his eyes catching on a familiar shape a few meters away. Beomgyu was perched on the edge of the wooden steps leading up to the porch, his arms wrapped around himself to fight the cold. He was curled in on himself, elbows resting on his knees as he looked out at the lake.

Beomgyu looked beautiful. It was the distant glow of the bonfire that barely reached him, it made everything look serene. The slope of his shoulders, the way his hair fell into his eyes. It was nice for Soobin to see him finally at peace, not performing.

Swallowing down a heavy breath, Soobin pushed himself up. His legs felt like they were wading through water. He stepped around the firepit, around the piles of napkins and tin foil, and walked until he stood just below the steps.

“Why are you over here and not with us?” 

Beomgyu looked up at him and then at the s’more. “You aren’t going to eat that?”

Soobin glanced at it, “It’s for you.”

As he reached for it, their fingers brushed and Soobin tried to ignore the flash of electricity that pulsed in his veins.

“Thanks.”

Without a word, Soobin stepped up and sat beside him; so close that their shoulders touched. They didn’t talk for what felt like hours, days. Just listened to the sound of their friends laughing and chatting amongst themselves. It had probably only been five minutes. 

“I didn’t want to intrude. You were all having a good time.”

Soobin looked at him with knitted brows. “What are you talking about?”

Beomgyu played with the twine of his scarf. When the light caught on his lap, Soobin saw a pile of thread sitting on his knee. 

“I would have ruined it, I think.”

It had never made sense, Beomgyu’s insecurity. Maybe if he could see himself with Soobin’s own lens he wouldn’t ever have to feel that way. Sometimes have an angelic glow to him, an apparition caught in the flesh. The kind of person that looked like they floated around the room. 

“You would never ruin anything. Not with us,” Soobin said gently.

Beomgyu nodded but didn’t reply, only reaching up to slide the s’more into his mouth.

Soobin tried not to look. If he did that would let his mind wander like it always did when he looked at his mouth. He always managed to make it weird, so he tried his best not to. Tried not to imagine what it would taste like on his tongue. Would it be gooey, melting on his palate? He then tried not to think about the click of his jaw when he opened his mouth to eat it. Would his jaw sound like that when it wrapped around him?

He coughed loudly like a dad would to cleare his throat. His voice came out hoarse when he pointed down at him, “You have pine needles in your sweater.”

Beomgyu looked down at the woolen fabric and picked at the green that poked through the holes.

Pouting, “I look like a dog that just rolled around in the grass.”

“Let me.”

Soobin’s fingers weren’t as delicate as Beomgyu’s; knuckles too thick, too big unlike his. They shook as he reached over because he was so close to him. It was impossible not to in his space, the adrenaline 

Beomgyu didn’t move away. He only watched as Soobin carefully plucked each pine needle from the loops of the knit. Focus only came when he had a task to work on, but it never lasted long. Sometimes it would take Soobin days upon days to open up a blank word document for his assignments — weeks if it felt like a layer of frost had encompassed his brain. However, when the task was Beomgyu , Soobin could sit there and labor over it forever. Beyond infinite.

Beomgyu only blinked as he watched Soobin work, and when Soobin leaned closer to catch a stubborn piece caught near his collarbone, their foreheads nearly brushed.

“Dumb fingers are too big to grab them,” Beomgyu laughed..

Soobin swallowed, breath hitching. His fingers fumbled slightly as he brushed the last needle away. “You like them that way.”

“Why are you always so careful with me?” Beomgyu asked, voice almost taken by the darkness around them. 

Soobin’s eyes glanced up to meet his. Brown and round like a doe, sparkling in the far-off bonfire light. There are times that he caught himself staring at them and he had to will away the thoughts that came with it. He only knew it now, but now that he did, it was hard to make peace with the love he had for him; just like Beomgyu had once said, he didn’t know what to do with it.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

There was only the sound of the groaning house, the ticking of ember and the lake water running along the beams of the pier.. Beomgyu’s lips curved delicately as if they couldn’t help themselves.

Then, abruptly, Beomgyu moved and closed the already tiny gap, his shoulder pressing into Soobin’s chest. “You’re such an idiot.”

Soobin let out a shaky laugh and dropped his hand from the sweater, quickly swiping the pine needles and scarf thread from his lap. The cold had been forgotten because he felt like he was on fire.

Beomgyu turned fully so his knee pressed against Soobin’s thigh. His fingers toyed with a loose thread on his sweater, head tilted only slightly, hair falling into his eyes.

“Thanks,” he smiled, flicking a piece of lint from his chest. Then he glanced up at Soobin with a crooked smile. “Gonna start charging you for all this maintenance.”

Soobin snorted and, in an attempt to try to hide how his hands were still trembling, he swiped his palms along the fabric of his sweats. “I’ll send you an invoice.”

Beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head. 

“As if you’d even know how to charge me for anything. If you did, I think I’d owe you a lot of money.”

The dancing shadows that were cast from the fire were all over Beomgyu’s face. In the glow, the darkness beneath his eyes and his pink cheeks from the cold were so charming that Soobin wondered why he didn’t walk around like this all the time. The picture-perfect omega but Beomgyu had never wanted it that way. Preferred to be sharp edged and hard to protect himself. Soobin preferred him in every way.

Soobin leaned forward before his brain could tell him not to, brushing a stray ash smudge from Beomgyu’s jaw with his thumb. His breath caught in his throat when Beomgyu didn’t move away — instead, he watched him with a half-lidded gaze, lashes low over his eyes.

“You’ve been acting strange.”

Soobin breathed, “What have I been doing?”

“Do you still want to do this? Me and you, the arrangement?”

Soobin opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t have the words to explain it. How could he articulate that it’s all he has ever wanted yet knew would be his downfall? Beomgyu, in every life, would be his downfall.

Beomgyu scoffed again and shook his head, turning his eyes back to the lake as if the moment hadn’t happened. But he didn’t move away. His knee stayed pressed against Soobin’s.

Soobin swallowed hard, finally letting out a shaky breath. He didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his hand falling to rest on Beomgyu’s knee, fingers curling there tentatively.

Beomgyu glanced down at the touch, then back up at Soobin with sharp eyes.

Somewhere across the way, Yeonjun’s laugh carried over, Taehyun and Kai’s voices overlapping. Kai had told him that Beomgyu would follow him anywhere; he had to trust him.

Beomgyu shifted again, and this time his thigh pressed more firmly against Soobin’s, and his hand slid over to cover the one on his knee. His thumb dragged over Soobin’s knuckles, back and forth. Another one of his tests. This one was simple: do something.

Soobin felt his pulse hammering at the base of his jaw. He wanted to say something but his mouth felt dry as if someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton.

Beomgyu glanced at him from under his lashes, a glimmer of his natural mischief cutting through. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Soobin’s breath hitched. “Like what?”

“Like you’re gonna eat me alive,” Beomgyu sing-songed, leaning in just slightly closer, their foreheads almost touching now. The light that was reflected in his eyes made them look molten.

Soobin’s fingers flexed on Beomgyu’s knee, nails digging in slightly. “I want to.”

Beomgyu snorted, but the sound dissolved into something breathier as Soobin’s hand slid higher on his thigh. Wavering, “Big words.”

The corner of Soobin’s mouth twitched. “Not words.”

His thumb pressed into the soft inside of Beomgyu’s thigh, feeling the warmth there, the faint tremor that showed Soobin that it wasn’t just him. It couldn’t be only him.

“Careful,” Beomgyu sucked in a shaky breath, his eyelids fluttering. Though his hips angled forward into the touch. “You putting on a performance for our friends over there? Want them to think you are top dog, Mr. Alpha?”

“I want you all over me. Your mouth.”

That mouth parted. Beomgyu’s hand came up to clutch at the collar of Soobin’s hoodie, fingers curling into the neckline.

“Not here.” 

Yet he didn’t move away — if anything, he leaned in further, his nose brushing lightly against Soobin’s cheek.

Soobin’s hand slid even higher, fingers grazing the seam of Beomgyu’s jeans, pausing just at the edge. Beomgyu’s breath shuddered, his hips jerking forward again.

“Then tell me where,” Soobin whispered, his lips ghosting along Beomgyu’s jaw, so close he could taste the salt of his skin.

Beomgyu’s eyes darted around quickly. Taehyun had his legs kicked up on Kai’s thigh and Yeonjun nowhere in sight for the moment. He bit his lip, then shot Soobin a look.

So soft that he could almost have convinced himself that it was just the wind, “Our room.” Then he tugged sharply at Soobin’s sweater and pulled him up.

Soobin didn’t need to be told twice. He stood abruptly and grabbed Beomgyu’s wrist to haul him up with him. Beomgyu stumbled with a laugh, following as Soobin dragged him toward the back of the house.

They didn’t bother with the pretense of subtlety; the other boys might have heard the shuffle of their feet and the door creak, but neither of them cared anymore. They had each other in the palm of their hands. Their push-pull had devolved into something more carnal, the immense need to possess one another.

As they slipped inside, Soobin slammed the door shut behind them. Beomgyu spun to face him, eyes bright and grin gleaming because this was the fun part for him.

And then Soobin was on him again, pinning him to the wall, hands everywhere at once.

Soobin’s fingers shook as they grazed Beomgyu’s waist, trying to understand what his body wanted next.  But Beomgyu’s hand was warm and sure as it covered Soobin’s, gently guiding it lower. They knew each other like the back of their hand. He needed guidance.

“What do you need from me tonight?”

He tried not to let his heart flutter at the vulnerability in his voice. Instead, he turned his attention to Beomgyu’s fingers that were threading through his hair, coaxing his head to rest against his chest.

There was no rush, no pressure. Just the pull of Beomgyu’s hands tracing over Soobin’s body, holding him in his arms.. Soobin’s hands fell, yielding.

“You’re safe here,” Beomgyu whispered, lips brushing Soobin’s temple. “Let me take care of you.”

Because if there was anything that Beomgyu knew about Soobin, it was that he had the tendency to not allow himself the good things. And tonight the good thing was the one person he had wanted all along. 

“I’m going to ask you for a few things, alright?” He waited for Soobin to nod before he continued. “You’re going to undress for me and do what I say tonight. We aren’t going to make it special, even though I know you want it to be. I’m sorry. Just let me make you feel good and tomorrow we can talk about everything just like the rules say.”

Soobin nodded into his chest and almost groaned at the sheer force of the cold when Beomgyu stepped away. Like a lynx, he tiptoed across the floorboards to the bed, dragging a fingertip across the wooden beams of their bed. At the edge of the bed, he paused, glancing over his shoulder with a small smile and lifted his sweater over his head. The fabric slipped up his spine, revealing skin inch by inch until it cleared his arms and he dropped it to the floor.

His nipples pebbled in the cool air immediately and Soobin’s mouth watered at the thought of closing his lips around them, of warming him from the inside out.

Beomgyu crawled up onto the bed slowly, knees sinking into the mattress one after the other, and laid back on his elbows to watch him.

“Your turn, puppy.”

God, he was his puppy. The invisible collar on his neck that Beomgyu tugged every so often to keep him in step. The way Soobin would beg on his knees if he could for a treat, a taste. Would roll over and wag his tail for an inch of affection.

Was it sick that it turned him on?

He pulled his shirt over his head and Beomgyu’s eyes followed every movement. The lines of his abdomen and the freckles that dotted his chest. Soobin felt like he was being devoured.

“Everything.”

Soobin’s big hands fumbled at the drawstrings of his sweats and he pulled them down in one go. He flushed hot all the way to his ears, eyes darting up to the ceiling like he could pretend Beomgyu wasn’t looking at him like that.

A low whistle sounded from the bed.

“Cute boxers,” Beomgyu drawled, syrupy as ever. “You get them just for me?”

When Soobin didn’t answer, Beomgyu let out a throaty laugh.

“Aw, don’t get shy on me now. You were so brave out there.”

Soobin pressed his lips together, refusing to admit that, yes, he had bought them for this trip. His first ever Calvin Kleins , chosen after way too long standing in the underwear aisle thinking about how Beomgyu always looked beautiful for him. How he wanted to give that same care back.

“Come here, baby.”

There was a burning sensation that made its way all the way down to his stomach. It was Beomgyu’s authority, the way commands felt in Soobin’s chest.

He followed instruction and kneeled down on the edge as Beomgyu rolled over with one leg draped over Soobin’s thigh. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boxers and snapped the elastic back against Soobin’s hips, making him flinch.

“Grey is your color,” Beomgyu smiled, his gaze dropping to the obvious swell pressing against the cotton.

His deft, nimble fingers grazed the base of his shaft through the fabric and Soobin shuddered under his touch, his jaw going slack 

Beomgyu’s thumb pressed, then circled, drawing a sharp breath from Soobin. But just as quickly as the contact came, he pulled back. He moved so he was lying back against the mattress and he stretched out like a cat, arms above his head. His jeans dipped just enough for Soobin to see a strip of his panties — another black lace pair.

With a finger ushering him forward, “Get on top of me.”

There was only a breath he could muster before crawling forward, hands braced on either side of Beomgyu’s head. As he hovered above him, their chests almost touched, breath intertwined in the space between them. Beomgyu tugged him again by the waistband until Soobin dropped his full weight onto him.

“There you go,” Beomgyu moaned. “Just like that.”

Soobin’s forehead dropped to press against Beomgyu’s. He felt so big above him, but somehow he was the one who felt small. His breathlessness, the way his hands moved so tentatively.

Beomgyu arched up just enough to grind their hips together and the friction ripped a strangled sound from Soobin’s throat, his hands fisting into the sheets on either side of Beomgyu’s head.

“You okay to keep going, baby? Going to keep doing what I say?”

Soobin nodded.

“You’re going to kiss down my chest now,” Beomgyu sighed.

He did as he was told. He looked up at his best friend through his lashes as he kissed a wet path down from his collarbones to his sternum. Each press of his lips lingered longer than it should have, wanting to bask in being watched by Beomgyu. He got drunk on it sometimes; that pretty face, his bitten pout.

His big hands ran along the sides of his torso, wanting so desperately to do more: graze his fingers along the damp patch on his panties, pass over his soft stomach and his navel piercing, elicit more sounds from him. But Beomgyu was in charge as he always was. Only he could tell Soobin what to do next.

“Play,” he swallowed, “with my nipples. Please.”

There was no hesitation when Soobin moved to mouth at the stiff peaks. How could there be when he was asked so nicely? Beomgyu was always so good to him. He said please even when he didn’t have to. 

His tongue laved over the bud in one slow stroke, then he placed his mouth over his pec to suck at it. Beomgyu’s head tipped back onto the pillow at the suction and his hand took root in Soobin’s bleached scalp, tugging at his hair until it hurt. But it didn’t matter; Soobin liked when it hurt.

“Such a good alpha. What other alpha would follow instructions so well? Only mine.”

Mine.

Soobin looked up at him, eyebrows knit together as he flicked his tongue over the bud once more. His lips were slick with his own saliva and there was a sheen of his spit all over the chest and neck he had just been lapping at. He had been slobbering on him by accident and, if Beomgyu didn’t like it, he would have apologized. But he knew more than anyone that just as Soobin liked to be used, Beomgyu liked it messy.

“Am I doing well?” Soobin asked, breathless.

He nodded down at him, tipping his head back against the pillow. A breath, “Yeah. So well, baby.”

Soobin spat on his chest, the translucent glob hanging by a thread from his tongue and falling slowly onto the peak of his nipple. He leaned down and licked a broad stroke up it, the silver star catching on the pert bud. The mewl Beomgyu sent a wave of heat through him and it went straight to his cock. 

“Pretty,” Beomyu said, glancing a hand through his hair. It mustn’t have been very soft; he would have to start deep-conditioning for him. The rough texture was probably off-putting. “Can you come up here for me?”

Docile, he lifted onto his palms to hover over him. Their faces were so close that he could see everything there: the mole next to his mouth that had faded from childhood, the thick fringe of his lashes as they brushed the top of his high cheekbones, the glossy press of his lips.

How beautiful was he, the omega of his dreams? The one person that had always felt like home even when Beomgyu didn’t have one. Those nights he would be at his doorstep, when they were much younger and more fearful. Soobin would take his hand and lead him up to his room, let him take the left side, and would stroke his hair until he fell asleep. There would be times he could hear his muffled cries; those would be the worst of all. His home, all around him. His home, in his arms but in such pain.

“I want you to kiss me, is that okay?”

Beomgyu: an omega, his best friend, the person who he couldn’t bear to live without. 

The only person.

The eyes that melted him when they were cast in his direction.

A nose that wrinkled in disgust around things he couldn’t stand the sight of — tomatoes, seafood, when Soobin didn’t wait to eat dinner with him.

Those cheeks that flushed at the slightest gust of wind, dusting pink across them.

Eyebrows, teeth, hair, the curve of his ears, thick column of neck.

There was nothing that Soobin hadn’t dreamt about having his lips on. He had already thought about what it would feel like, the press of it. Which part of him would give way underneath his lips and whether he would lay still for him. Whether or not he would take control and grasp Soobin’s chin with those hands. His tongue was too thick for Beomgyu’s, it would take over his whole mouth. Soobin could swallow him down so easily, suck the breath from his lungs.

“Beomgyu,” his voice shook as he spoke, “you have to mean it.”

He lifted a hand to Soobin’s cheek and trailed a finger down it. “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

Soobin, for the first time in his life, didn’t hesitate.

He leaned in and slotted their lips together gently, sucking Beomgyu’s plush bottom lip into his mouth. It tasted just like he thought he would — cherry chapstick and bonfire smoke, a glance of chocolate on his tongue. That honey scent that clung to every fibre of his being. An omega that was made to be eaten whole; sickly sweet.

But Beomgyu didn’t ever take anything slow. He let his fingers settle at the crown of Soobin’s scalp and grabbed from the root to push him down and onto him. His breath stuttered in his throat as he was forced downward, crashing fully against Beomgyu’s waiting mouth. Not gentle, nor nice. Beomgyu was all saliva and teeth and it was like he wanted to take something from him. Their teeth clicked together, the messy wet sounds all too loud surrounded by the quiet timber walls.

Soobin whimpered into the kiss, hands fumbling at Beomgyu’s sides to take hold of something, giving him a sense of stability. But Beomgyu only pushed harder, mouth moving so fast and hard against him that it made him dizzy. His head swam with the scent of him, the taste of him, finally, on his tongue.

It wasn’t like their first kiss, no , that one was too innocent. It still had clacking teeth, too much tongue. Now they moved against each other with the weight of each other's desire and the knowledge that it had always been this way. The two of them. A singularity when together like this. Soobin let Beomgyu take the control that he needed by allowing him to tilt his head, using his hair as leverage to deepen the kiss. He relaxed his jaw and let Beomgyu lick into his mouth and slide against the back of his teeth, shivering in his hold, giving himself over to him.

Soobin’s tongue had healed, the piercing comfortable in his mouth, but Beomgyu bit down onto it hard enough that it was raw once more. He groaned loudly and felt his cock jerk in his boxers; the pain, the ecstasy of having him in his mouth. 

He pulled back and Soobin, head still tilted in Beomgyu’s hand, stared at the glossy lips he had fantasized about his entire life. They turned upward in a grin, “You liked that?”

Obedient and eager to please, he nodded. His brows drew together in a pretty, pained scrunch but he knew what Beomgyu wanted. He lolled his tongue out, swollen and flushed, and showed him the blood that leaked to the point of it.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu breathed. “How are you real?”

Beomgyu dragged his thumb across the seam of Soobin’s tongue, smearing the blood and spit together before slipping it into Soobin’s mouth. He closed his lips around it and hollowed his cheeks to suck, his eyes fluttering shut as he whimpered.

“Good boy. Good alpha,” Beomgyu purred.

Soobin could barely think — his mind had become a roaring chasm, split down the middle from overstimulation. They had barely started and Beomgyu had his claws in him. It felt like he had his nails buried in the fissures of his brain. How long had he been buried inside of him like this, infesting every waking thought? There was nothing Beomgyu could ask of him that he wouldn’t do. There never had been. There was always a dust cloud that blanketed every reasonable decision he palmed off for Beomgyu. And now with him beneath Soobin, he could barely utter anything comprehensible. 

Beomgyu whispered, in awe as he stared at him. “You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out, pup. So beautiful.”

Soobin’s lips stayed wrapped around Beomgyu’s thumb, his lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks as he suckled. Every small flick of his tongue sent a shiver down Beomgyu’s spine. No alpha had ever let Beomgyu use them like Soobin was. That made him better than all the others. He could be a good mate for him; this was his interview. See? I am your toy, play with me however you see fit.

Beomgyu pulled his thumb free with a slick pop, watching the string of saliva snap and cling to Soobin’s swollen lips. He traced that same thumb gently across Soobin’s lower lip, smearing the wetness.

“Lay back. Now.”

Soobin scrambled back without thinking, climbing off him and falling onto his back. His breath was already coming out in staccato bursts and his hair, messy from Beomgyu’s fingers, framed his flushed face.

Beomgyu, for all of his grace, moved like a predator. His eyes were constantly locked onto Soobin’s trembling form and when he finally hovered over him, Beomgyu paused to look at Soobin beneath him: the parted lips, the wild eyes, the bruised jawline still pink from his grip.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” Beomgyu smiled as he leaned in to brush his lips over Soobin’s jaw, down to the hollow of his throat. He paused there, sucking lightly, then bit down hard enough to make Soobin arch, moaning loudly.

Beomgyu’s hands roamed down Soobin’s chest, thumbs brushing over each nipple and circling before pinching just enough to make him gasp, but not enough to hurt. Soobin’s hips bucked to chase any friction he could find, but Beomgyu never made it that easy.

“You like that?” Beomgyu teased, his mouth ghosting over each new mark he made.

Stammering, “Y-Yeah.”

Beomgyu chuckled before scooting down his long body and resting his clothed core on Soobin’s wet boxers. He rolled his hips down and ground down slowly so he could feel the shape of him through their layers of clothes. It made Soobin keen, his hands flying up to grab at Beomgyu’s sides, desperate for more contact, more pressure, more of him.

“Don’t move unless I tell you to,” Beomgyu growled.

He caught Soobin’s wrists and pinned them above his head.. His breath caught, his eyes hazy as he looked up, completely at Beomgyu’s mercy.

Beomgyu lowered his mouth again, this time taking a nipple between his lips and sucking hard, biting at the peak while his hips rolled down in delicious circles. Soobin writhed beneath him, his legs falling open to invite him to press down more firmly.

“Please…” Soobin gasped, a ragged plea, eyes begging for more even if he didn’t know exactly what. If he even deserved more.

Beomgyu looked up from his chest, his mouth glistening. “I know, puppy. I know exactly what you need.”

He released Soobin’s wrists slowly, his hands moving down to outline the divots of his abdomen, slipping teasingly to ghost over the waistband of his boxers.

“You’re okay,” Beomgyu whispered. He was leaning in so close that their lips almost touched. His words melted into Soobin’s skin and if he were a stronger man, he would have reached up and caught them on his tongue. But he was weak, instead laying back and taking it. “Always making me feel so good. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Beomgyu started his descent, dragging his lips down Soobin’s jaw, his neck. He stopped only to mark each area with a suck and a bite. He was making sure he mapped every inch of Soobin’s body, leaving behind a constellation that they would only discover when morning came.

When he finally settled between Soobin’s spread thighs, eye to eye with the heavy, straining bulge in his underwear, he paused. Seeing Beomgyu’s breath catch gave him a little sliver of victory; he had won something in their little game for once.

He wasn’t victorious for long because Beomgyu let his lips hover there, his breath hot against the damp fabric. Soobin’s cock twitched, aching for him, and Beomgyu let out a delighted giggle.

“God,” he muttered, flicking it with his index finger. “It’s so fucking big. How am I supposed to take all of this, huh? It won’t fit.”

Soobin groaned deep in his throat, his knuckles blanching where they gripped the sheets, trying to keep himself from pulling Beomgyu onto his cock. He knew it wouldn’t be as fun that way, though. Beomgyu was wicked. He pressed a kiss over the head through the cotton as if mocking him further. 

“Bet that gets you off, huh?” he flicked his tongue out to trace the outline beneath the boxers.

Soobin’s head fell back and he groaned lowly, trying to stop his thighs from trembling on either side of Beomgyu’s shoulders.

Beomgyu hummed and clearly decided Soobin had enough torture for one night. He hooked his fingers under the waistband, dragging the underwear down and pulling them from his ankles. He kept his eyes locked on Soobin’s face, watching every twitch, every gasp.

When Soobin’s cock sprang free, red and fat against his stomach, Beomgyu whined as if it were inside him. He wrapped a hand around the base, giving it an appreciative squeeze.

“I hate that you kept me from this for so long,” Beomgyu pouted, thumb brushing over the slick head. “Had to fuck all those awful alphas when I had one right next to me. One that could make me orgasm at that!”

Soobin’s hips bucked helplessly into the touch, eyes glassy. He was passed the point of no return — too dizzy to think, mind too cloudy to articulate anything of substance.

“Please,” he choked out. “Bam, please.”

Beomgyu’s smirk turned soft, understanding he had put Soobin in subspace by accident. They hadn’t explored it before but it was bound to happen eventually. Beomgyu’s tongue was too sharp and Soobin’s resolve was too delicate.

“Sorry, baby. I’ll take care of you now.”

Then he finally parted his lips and began to sink down, excruciatingly slowly, savoring every inch. His tongue ran along the underside and across each vein. With each uneven breath from Soobin, Beomgyu went deeper.

It was too much. The heat of Beomgyu’s mouth enveloped him completely, so wet and warm that every muscle in Soobin’s body went rigid, wound so tightly. He had always watched Beomgyu eat popsicles, lollipops, suck on his hair tie; he had always desperately wanted to know what it would feel like to be between those pursed lips. Always wet from gloss or chapstick or spit. 

Beomgyu’s palms skimmed his thighs and smoothing over the tense muscles as if to help him to relax, to let go. Didn’t work, of course, not while his mouth worked him deeper, deeper.

When Soobin dared to look down, he nearly lost all composure. It was Beomgyu’s flushed cheeks that hollowed around him, his dark hair that fell messily over his pretty eyes, thick lashes as he looked up at him. An angel was doing something filthy — but he knew Beomgyu was not an angel at all. Looks were deceiving.

“Don’t,” Soobin stuttered. “Don’t look at me.”

But Beomgyu only hummed around him, the vibration of it shooting straight up Soobin’s spine. 

This was the moment he had dreamed of, night after night. For years. Beomgyu between his thighs and stretched wide around his cock. Back then in the dark with his hands wrapped around himself he imagined it. Always Beomgyu on his knees. Black eyeliner smudged from tears, smoky streaks running down his soft cheeks, hair sticking to the mess on his chin and throat. The image had haunted him.

Now it was real and even more devastating than he had ever imagined. Because now, Beomgyu wasn’t crying. His eyes were half-lidded and amused…? He watched Soobin fall apart with the confidence he was known for, like he was meant for this.

Beomgyu slid down again, taking him deeper, and then deeper still until his nose buried in the soft hair at Soobin’s base. The slick wet drag of his throat made Soobin’s vision blur. His long fingers finally found Beomgyu’s hair, fisting it because he was unable to stop himself anymore.

His lips stretched, cheeks hollowing as he pulled back just to sink down again, his throat swallowing around him. Every sound Soobin made was answered by a squeeze at his hips. I’m still here.

When he pulled off for a breath, “Tastes so good.”

His already deep voice was hoarse and wrecked and it made Soobin twitch in his hand. Beomgyu’s thumb swiped at the spit smeared across his chin before he sank back down, eyes locked on him once more.

He moaned around Soobin’s length, vibrating along the sensitive underside. Lashes fluttered shut, his brows knitting together…

Soobin had never seen someone enjoy his cock like this.

When he pulled up again, his hands replaced his lips, fisting the slick shaft with a twist of his wrist. His tongue darted out to lap at the pearls of precum that spilled over as if he were an omega addicted.

Soobin’s head tipped back against the pillow, the rope in his core tightening into a blazing knot. Every muscle trembling and taut. He could barely breathe, let alone think.

“B-Beomgyu.”

His hands trembled where they hovered near Beomgyu’s shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or drag him closer.

Beomgyu hummed again like he could feel how close he was, how badly Soobin was struggling to hold on. His fingers squeezed at the base as his tongue circled around the tip.

“Enough!” Soobin barked, so low and hoarse that it sounded like it had been dragged deep from his core.

In a desperate attempt to get him off, he grabbed a fistful of Beomgyu’s hair and yanked him, forceful enough that Beomgyu’s head tilted back.

For a moment, time stilled.

From this angle, Beomgyu looked utterly divine. His eyes fluttered shut. Saliva mixed with his own precum clinging to his lips and dripping down his chin in rivulets. His cheeks and nose were flushed as if he were heatsick, strands of hair stuck to the sweat at his temples.

But then Beomgyu made a sound Soobin hadn’t expected — a gasp that dissolved into a throaty whine.

Soobin’s heart lurched, panic quickly taking over. He released his grip immediately, hands coming up to cradle Beomgyu’s jaw instead, his brows drawn together in alarm. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Beomgyu’s lips parted as he leaned into Soobin’s touch. He moaned out a strained mm-mm , shaking his head.

Soobin allowed himself a breath, letting his head fall back against the pillow as his palm dragged down his face. “Fuck, Beomgyu. I nearly came.”

Beomgyu’s eyes glimmered before he dipped down and gave the swollen head of Soobin’s leaking cock a kitten lick. Soobin jolted violently upright.

Giggling, “Sorry. Tastes so fucking good. God, I knew it would be good before I even had my hands on you.”

“You’re going to ruin my fucking life,” Soobin groaned. “What do you want from me next?”

Beomgyu’s smile curled upward and he flopped onto his back beside Soobin, eyes fixed on the ceiling before turning to him with the kind of daring look that almost always scared him.

“You’re going to fuck me.”

Soobin’s jaw went slack, eyes going wide. “Beomgyu, it won’t fit. I need to stretch you out first.”

Beomgyu turned his head fully now.

“I like the pain,” he whispered.

It knocked the air from Soobin’s lungs. In that moment, he realized Beomgyu wasn’t asking; he was offering himself, completely. This omega was going to ruin his life. Soobin caught the glint of sweat along his hairline and his fingers trembled slightly as he reached out, brushing Beomgyu’s hair away from his forehead.

“You don’t have to,” Soobin whispered back, his thumb curving along the edge of Beomgyu’s cheekbone. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want to feel it,” Beomgyu leaned into the touch. “All of it. I want to feel you tomorrow.”

Soobin leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, his breath coming out harsh and uneven.

“Beomgyu…”

His lips ghosted over the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth, close enough to taste his breath. He would swallow it down like liquid gold if he could. To have Beomgyu’s air in his lungs felt like a privilege he wasn’t worthy of.

Beomgyu’s hand slid up to the back of Soobin’s neck, fingers curling tightly in the hairs at the nape of his neck. His nails bit into the skin there, urging him closer.

“Stop talking, just do it.”

And what was Soobin to do but follow along? It was his job now to cater to Beomgyu’s every whim, every desire.

He crashed their mouths together in a kiss that was all teeth and hot tongue. Beomgyu pulled him in with a ferocity that left no room for him to hesitate. Almost like he knew Soobin would pull away for breath and second-guess what they were doing.

Beomgyu arched against him, sliding a leg up around Soobin’s hip, hooking him close. Their bodies moved together in a frantic dance; grinding, touching, feeling.

Soobin’s hands traced down Beomgyu’s sides, fingers digging into the dip of his waist before sliding lower to the buttons of his jeans. With a pop , Soobin had undone his pants and slid them down the length of his legs, presenting Beomgyu’s body on a silver platter.

Black lace that led to a string waistband — if Soobin flipped him over, he would find a thong slicing through the pert globes of his ass. If he was a different kind of alpha, he would put Beomgyu on his knees and refuse to knot him. He would spill all over his spine and panties instead.

Pressing open-mouthed kisses down Beomgyu’s jaw, across his throat, his teeth scraping against his soft skin, Soobin lapped up any square inch of skin he could find. His fingers so desperately wanted to be inside him to feel the way his walls would tighten and clench around them. But that wasn’t allowed yet.

“Stop thinking so much. I can take it,” Beomgyu said raggedly.

Soobin groaned, his own hips bucking into the mattress to try and ease the pain in his groin. Beomgyu reached for his hip and pulled him down on top of him.

“Don’t do that, puppy. Save it for me.”

What Beomgyu didn’t quite understand is that nothing would ever be the same from this moment on. He didn’t know that Soobin wasn’t too far gone to find someone else; he could like somebody else at some point. He would eventually find the right person. Someone soft and kind, delicate like Beomgyu was but not quite as mean. Short hair, a mouth that wasn’t so slick. If Soobin ended what they had here, it would be okay. 

But it was Beomgyu beneath him. Pale skin which was a symptom of winter, muscular arms that flexed when he moved, the prettiest face that contorted and twisted when Soobin touched him right. 

Soobin could save himself, but he didn’t really want to. If this would ruin him, he would allow Beomgyu to be his demise.

When Soobin wrapped a fist around his shaft and lined himself up, Beomgyu’s hands caught his waist to urge him closer.

Soobin bent down, their foreheads brushing.

“Can I start?” he whispered.

Beomgyu’s eyes were wide as he nodded.

Barely a breath, “Now.”

Soobin pushed forward, slow at first, feeling the warmth of his wet walls grip him. Beomgyu’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, his nails digging half-moons into Soobin’s skin.

Every inch was a test of control, a hot, trembling ache that built and built until they were both shaking. He couldn’t bear to see the pain on Beomgyu’s face. A tear rolled down his cheek and it glimmered in the moonlight like a pearl. Soobin’s muscles locked and everything within him told him to stop, to check, to soothe — but Beomgyu’s body kept pulling him deeper.

He ducked down, pressing his forehead against Beomgyu’s “Nearly there, I promise.”

Beomgyu tried to nod but it was more of a jerk of his head, “Hurry.”

Soobin could barely breathe, fighting to keep his hips fixed as he pushed the rest of the way in. When Soobin finally bottomed out, he paused, both of them panting, bodies slick.

Then Beomgyu’s hips rolled up and when Soobin whined, his hips snapped up again.

His hands moved to hold onto his waist as if it was second nature, trying to still him, but Beomgyu only tilted his head, smiling at him coquettishly.

“Don’t stop,” Beomgyu mumbled, a dusty pink settling across his cheeks and nose. “I told you, I want it to hurt.”

Their eyes found each other, both wide and glossy, and Soobin searched Beomgyu’s face like he might find an answer there to the ache crawling up his spine. His chest rose and fell rapidly to control the way the knot inside of him was already unfurling. He had to make it worth Beomgyu’s while, he couldn’t finish after one stroke.

“But—” Soobin tried, wanting to say something tender, something about how he felt.

Beomgyu only smiled. He leaned up slightly, brushing his nose along Soobin’s jaw before pressing a soft kiss just below his ear. “I know. Just feel me.”

His fingers flexed, gripping Beomgyu’s waist a little harder as he pulled back, head just breaching his entrance, then pushing in again.

“There you go,” Beomgyu sighed, bliss in his voice. He rocked his hips up to meet Soobin’s thrusts, matching his rhythm.

Soobin’s forehead dropped to Beomgyu’s shoulder, his breath fanning out over his collarbone. “You feel so good,” his lips brushed his skin as if he couldn’t stop touching him.

Beomgyu’s hand threaded into his hair, tugging gently to tilt his head up. His gaze was smoldering as he whispered, “I know. You’re making me feel so good too. My good alpha.”

A moan tore from Soobin at the praise, his hips stuttering before slamming forward harder, the wet sound their bodies made eliciting another roar from his core.

Beomgyu gasped, his back arching, legs tightening around Soobin’s waist. 

“Yes, just like that. So good.”

Every thrust seemed to pull them closer; their lips brushing, hands roaming, nails digging into plush skin. Beomgyu was branding his body with his own mark. How desperately Soobin wanted to give him a mark of his own, right at the base of his neck…

Beomgyu reached up, thumb brushing over Soobin’s cheek. “Look at you. You’re so pretty when you’re trying so hard.”

Soobin’s jaw fell slack, a deep groan spilling out as he drove into him again and again, driven by the soft encouragement. He had always worked so much better when someone was dangling a carrot in front of him, when he had the hope of something just out of his grasp. This time it was that, one day, he would be able to feel Beomgyu around him again.

The room felt like it moved with them, groaning and swaying in the breeze outside. There was nothing in the world that wasn’t tethered to this moment.

Soobin rocked into him again and again but it was never deep enough. He had to bury himself so deep that there was no space left between them, no air. 

He felt like he was hovering on the edge, always so close to that final release but never quite tipping over. Every time he looked down, it nearly undid him: Beomgyu beneath him, flushed and panting, hair stuck to his forehead, eyes blown wide. His dream boy. His dream omega. There was no one else in the world like him.

Soobin leaned down to brace himself on trembling arms and captured Beomgyu’s lips in a soft kiss. It was messy. The kind of kiss that made their chests ache from lack of air. They licked into each other, swallowing each gasp and whimper, trying to become one in a way that went beyond skin.

The lips he had fantasized about for so long. His own haunting.

He was moaning too loudly, everyone would hear the way it rumbled from Soobin’s throat as the pleasure coiled tight in his gut and vibrated up his spine. He pulled back just enough to see Beomgyu’s face. He had to see his face or else it wouldn’t be real.

Soobin’s hips stuttered, movements all the more frantic as he chased his high. Each snap forward made him feel as if he were on the precipice of exploding.

Beomgyu’s hands curled into his hair and dragged him back down, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re so good,” Beomgyu breathed against his mouth, “doing so well.”

Soobin whimpered into his skin. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Beomgyu only pulled him closer, hooking a leg tightly around Soobin’s middle. 

“Then come.”

Soobin surged forward, hips snapping desperately as he chased the edge that had teased him since the moment Beomgyu first touched him. And then — the rope inside him snapped. He came apart with a guttural whine, stars bursting behind his eyes. His body shook, mouth falling open.

He didn’t even realize the words tumbling from his lips until he heard them echo against the bedroom walls: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t bite them back, even as his high ebbed. Even as his motions stilled and he could barely hold himself upright, his arms wrapped limply around Beomgyu’s waist as if trying to keep him from hearing what he had said.

But Beomgyu didn’t pause.

Instead, he pushed Soobin’s chest back until his spine met the mattress. Then he climbed on top of him, moving to straddle his hips, sliding down onto him again.

Beomgyu began to bounce down on him, hard. Not offering any solace to Soobin who was being milked dry, already so oversensitive. Beomgyu's was head thrown back and his eyes were closed so he didn't have to face him.

Soobin watched, hollowed out, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. Every clench, every squeeze around him was felt tenfold. Yet, it was the ache of what had happened that submerged him in ice-cold water.

Beomgyu was using him. He was taking what he needed, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to see the love written all over Soobin’s face.

And Soobin let him.

Because even if the words weren’t returned, he would always let Beomgyu take whatever he wanted.