Chapter Text
— “You kids these days are just brats, aren't you?”
Juwon growls.
Well, he tries to. He feels like he's been frozen and the sound is weak, not at all as threatening as he wanted it to be.
“Growling at me, too?” Dongsik continues, wholly unbothered by his attempted warning. “Put those fangs away.”
Juwon does not. He bares them even harsher.
Dongsik smiles and then something… throaty, and shaky, comes from him. It's a purely primal sound and Juwon feels like he's a pup again, being scuffed and growled at. Dongsik is an omega, yet he still gets the urge to bare his neck in submission. He can't do that, even if he knows he hasn't got the upper hand with his scruff captured securely in Dongsik’s fingers.
Still, he growls back, unwilling to back down. Dongsik scoffs.
“The nerve of this kid,” he murmurs. “Didn't I tell you to put those fangs away? I'm not letting you go until you do.”
It's not a difficult task, or an unreasonable command. Dongsik is older. No one should be growling at their superior.
Juwon isn't no one.
Pointedly, Juwon bares his teeth in defiance. Dongsik sighs, like one would do with a child they found petulant and amusing. He sighs and then he gets up in Juwon’s face, so close his stubble tickles him, so close that all he can smell is the harshness of his scent.
And he snarls.
Juwon is shocked out of his body from the vicious ferocity of the sound, eyes going wide and his breath halting. He hasn't even heard alphas make a sound so — animalistic. So wild. He immediately quiets and he forces his throat to close around what he knows was a pathetic keen of defeat.
Lee Dongsik’s fangs are sharp beyond his pink pouty mouth as his lips part. When he grins down at Juwon, they glisten.
“See?” He teases Juwon. “You don't like that, do you? All I told you to do was close your mouth, little prince.”
Juwon feels shaken and fuzzy. He obeys now almost as an instinct, and Dongsik coos.
“Good boy, good omega — I'm going to let you go now, hm?”
Then, Dongsik does just that. He gets off of Juwon where he had pinned him to the floor. Justifiably. It was Juwon who lost composure, who let seething emotion jump out of him and make him lunge at Dongsik.
“That's —” Juwon’s voice is shaky. “Forced… forced submission… it’s…”
— Is a crime. That's what he wants to say, not because he actually plans to cuff Dongsik, but just to try and regain his composure, to slip his mask back into place.
He can't. His brain won't cooperate, and he feels all fuzzy and a bit woozy.
“You’re a sweet little thing. Never been scruffed, have you?”
Juwon has sat up by now yet for some reason he can't stand.
“Of course you haven't. Who would scruff a pretty prince like you?”
He's never felt this way before. He's been on suppressants and blockers since he was sixteen, and has been fully trained to not allow pheromones to affect him. Dongsik didn't use his pheromones, or touch Juwon’s scent glands.
He only scruffed him, and growled at him. That's hardly grounds for a deep submissive state, especially since Dongsik is an omega. So why can't Juwon stand? Why does Dongsik’s exposed scent gland, shiny on his neck, look so desirable - ?
He shivers. Dongsik reaches for him and he doesn't growl. He tries to hiss but what comes out instead, mortifyingly, is a whine. It's a desperate, vulnerable sound Juwon has never made before. Because, before he was an Omega, he was Han Kihwan’s heir.
His father’s heir, despite his failure as a subgender, is not allowed to be weak.
“Aigoo. Come here.”
Juwon bares his teeth in a weak attempt to growl, to snarl like Dongsik had, yet the older omega is completely unaffected by his attempt. Juwon is dragged into his lap like a kitten or an actual pup and he fights it for a moment, fighting it with a whine and a quiet keen that drifts off into silence when Dongsik’s wrist presses to his nose.
Dongsik's scent. He's never smelled it this close before, unmarred by scent blockers, and before any rationality can stop him he snuffles that scent gland, greedily inhaling as much as he can. A soothing hand rubs his belly, one of his most vulnerable places.
Juwon should growl and bat him away.
His mother used to do that. He has faint memories of being a toddler, of his mother patting and rubbing his belly until he went lax and boneless and fell asleep right inside of her arms. How does Dongsik know about that? How does he know exactly where to touch Juwon, in places that should make him recoil but only make him crave more?
“A repressed omega is a miserable omega, you know,” Dongsik says, holding Juwon in his lap, rubbing his belly like the omega hadn't just pounced on him.
“I used to be like you — So convinced I could hide who I was, even though everyone already knew. Don't you know you have to let loose sometimes, Han Juwon?”
Juwon’s head tilts to bear his neck. Dongsik is so close, close enough that he could nuzzle Juwon’s scent glands if he wanted to. Yet… He doesn't. He cups that side of his neck, yeah. His hand is warm and feels good against that sensitive spot, makes him feel all tingly and almost numb.
But he doesn't scent him, and Juwon doesn't like that. Is he not good enough? Is the sweet scent he carries, the one his father forced him to hide, the one that tells everyone how much of an omega he is, repulsive to Dongsik? His heart races at the thought and there's weight on his chest.
The hand is gone from his scent glands to cup his cheek.
“Oh? What's this?”
His face is wet. The wetness is caught by Dongsik’s thumb because Juwon is crying. He hasn't cried in years but here he is, crying, whimpering.
“What's wrong?” Dongsik asks, his voice sweet and smooth like honey. Juwon sniffs and blinks through his flooded waterline.
“Want…”
His voice is unfamiliar to himself, this shaky, weak vocalization he produces. It isn't right. He is never supposed to be weak.
“Yes?”
That same hand is still swiping his tears as Juwon nuzzles further into Dongsik’s wrist.
“Speak up. What do you want, little prince?”
Dongsik calls him things like that all the time. Prince, pretty boy. But, it's always in passing, always teasing. He hasn't ever addressed Juwon directly with these endearments.
“C’mon, use your words. You usually have no problem running that pretty mouth of yours.”
What does Juwon want?
“Want your…” he says. “Scent.”
God, he can't even speak in complete sentences. His cheek is patted in what might be praise and regardless, he receives it that way, chasing the older’s palm when it pulls away.
“Good boy.”
Juwon bares his neck without being asked to, heart thrumming. The first touch of Dongsik is his nose. Then, his entire face is sealed against that junction of Jiwon's neck.
His brain goes empty for a moment. His hands are moving, pressing into Dongsik’s arm. He's kneading him, kneading him like he's a stupid little pup. Juwon stops himself - even despite the way his chest lurches with displeasure.
“You kneading me?” Dongsik asks. He sounds amused, not bothered.
His cheeks get warm when he's called out. Dongsik’s voice sends vibrations through his neck and his lips are soft on that skin.
“...Not supposed to,” Juwon replies timidly. Why can't he shut his mouth?
“Mm? Really?” The hand is on his belly again, patting.
(You're making him soft.)
“Who told you that?”
(A young Juwon shrinks back from his father’s cold voice. His paws desperately knead against his mother’s belly once more, but his father crosses the room, yanking him by the arm to separate him from her. He whines and his mother moves like she's going to collect him. Please, he thinks, craving her soft embrace once more.)
“Juwon-ah.”
(It's bad enough that you didn't give me an alpha. Omega or not, no child of mine will be soft.)
“Han Juwon.”
(The next time Juwon tries to knead his mother, she sends him away, and that's another part of his biology he learns to shut off.)
“I know you hear me,” Dongsik says, but he doesn't sound angry, accusatory. He sounds… Playful. Teasing Juwon like he always is.
“Come out of that pretty head. Who told you that, hm?”
Juwon sniffs. His lips are trembling, barely able to form around a word.
“...Appa…”
His voice quivers and is hardly audible. Dongsik hears him just fine.
“Your Appa, huh?” The older omega replies. “Is your Appa here now?”
Juwon blinks, then slowly shakes his head. His Appa isn't here. He can't see Juwon being weak, disobeying him.
“That's right,” Dongsik confirms. “He's not here, so you don't have to listen to him.”
Dongsik’s face leaves his neck and the older shushes him when he makes a noise, shifting their position. Dongsik is lying down and Juwon is on top of him. He's too hazy to worry about if he might be too heavy.
“Go ahead.” Dongsik smiles up at him, patting his own belly. “Get to work, make some biscuits.”
Juwon has no clue what he means by that last part and isn't in the headspace to question it as Dongsik takes his hands, guiding them to his stomach. Dongsik has a soft belly. The flesh squishes under the heels of his hands when he hesitantly begins to work them, up, down, up, down, every movement taking him further into this delirious state.
“Good omega. Take what you need, prince.”
Juwon has never been good. Not as an omega, or a person. He has always been rotten; a disappointment, a mistake that couldn't be reversed. Here Dongsik is, praising him, calling him a Good boy and a Good omega and a Pretty thing as Juwon contently kneads his belly.
He tires himself out. There is a second of hesitation, his eyelids heavy as he thinks about whether or not he was allowed to lay on Dongsik’s chest when the older omega decides for him by pulling him down.
His body is vibrating.
Oh. He's purring. Juwon is purring and Dongsik is cooing at him like the sweet, pretty thing he claims Juwon is. Fingers scrape through his scalp and Juwon lets go of his consciousness.
When Juwon wakes up, he is in his apartment.
His head feels funny and his mouth is dry. Rubbing his eyes, he sees that he's in his bedroom, wearing different clothes than what he last remembers despite no recollection of changing them himself.
And Hyuk is in the corner, wearing glasses instead of contacts, paired a silky two piece pajama set, reading a book. When he glances up and notices Juwon is awake, he sticks a bookmark between the pages.
“Where —”
He swallows the rest of his words before he can let them out, because no, he was not about to ask Hyuk where Dongsik is. His memories are coming back quickly and dread sleeps into his veins. The purring. The kneading. The scenting. The scruffing.
“Lee Dongsik is in Manyang,” Hyuk responds, like Juwon had said a full sentence. “You're here because he called me, from your phone, to come take you home. He said he had somewhere to go, and didn't want to leave you alone while in a submissive headspace.”
What. What? Submissive is not a word Juwon has ever used to describe himself. He is a leader. He takes the reigns. He is a Han, Han Kiwhan’s son.
But at the end of every day, he is still an omega.
“You have today off.”
Juwon blinks. “I don't,” he denies. He knows his schedule by heart. Hyuk hums.
“You do. I spoke to the Chief myself, and you'll be back on the force tomorrow.”
Juwon decides not to ask what Hyuk told him, scared of the answer. That doesn't even matter, compared to what he's done with Dongsik. He doesn't know what to say. Two people now have seen him in the most vulnerable state of his life, one he bumps head with, and the other who has been around since he was a child. It's embarrassing, mortifying.
“So —”
“Don't,” Juwon tries to protest, unable to make his voice steely. Hyuk ignores him.
“Lee Dongsik?” He asks, crossing his legs. “Does your father know you're courting with an omega? And him, of all people?”
“We’re not courting,” Juwon denies. Hyuk raises his eyebrows.
“So you just go into a headspace around anyone? Got it.”
“That's not —” Juwon tries to argue, feeling flustered. “That wasn't supposed to happen.”
“How did it happen?” Hyuk prods. “All Lee Dongsik said was, quote, “Ask the prince yourself”.”
Juwon doesn't know how to answer without making himself look bad. What is he supposed to say? Oh, I broke into his basement, attacked him, and got scruffed and growled at? And it kind of awakened something within me that I've been keeping hidden for decades?
He's silent for a moment or three too long.
“... You're not sleeping with him, are you?”
“No,” The omega denies, more vehement than he would've normally been. “I don't have casual sex.”
“That was a little more than a casual relationship,” The beta calls him out. “Be honest with me, Juwon-ah.”
Juwon tightens his fists inside of the bedsheets. “I'm not,” he denies once more. “I have no reason to lie. The situation is incriminating as it is.”
Hyuk tilts his head. “There's nothing incriminating about the situation… Except that Lee Dongsik may be a criminal.”
The mindset Juwon has had for the past few months is that Lee Dongsik is a horrible, evil man who somehow slipped through the gaps of the law and worked his way into the force.
A mindset that has begun to slip. The same hands Dongsik used to murder those women, including his own sister, had touched him so softly. The same mouth that lies about his crimes had addressed Juwon so sweetly.
Maybe Juwon is going insane. Or he should get checked for brain damage.
He kicks Hyuk out and spends the rest of his forced day off holed up inside of his apartment. Though it hadn't been his own decision, he finds he's glad he doesn't have to go to work. He feels out of it and hazy, hungover without the alcohol. He can't even do any sets on his exercise bike and ends up spending most of the day in bed between small meals.
On the drive back to Manyang the next morning, Juwon’s heart is racing. He had spent all night thinking of how he was going to handle the aftermath of the situation. Dongsik could use this against him. He's on a pedestal now, with leverage over Juwon, leverage he could use in any way he pleased.
He's filled with dread when he walks into the station, stomach turning at the unavoidable event that is seeing Lee Dongsik. However, there is no sign of the older omega. He isn't at his desk and the cloying smell of his scent blockers (Barely able to mask his true aroma) isn't in the air either. That's strange. Dongsik is always there before Juwon.
“Ah!” Nam Sangbae brightens at Juwon’s entrance. “You dragged your feet today, didn't you? We were waiting for you, I have some news.”
The news turns out to be a family emergency. Lee Dongsik had a family emergency and has the next two days off.
Family.
His father is dead. Yuyeon has been ‘missing’ for decades — Juwon knows that if the woman has been miraculously found alive, he would've seen it on the news before he even arrived here, that the station would've been swarmed with reporters.
The only living family Dongsik has is his mother, and Juwon somehow knows what that means even if Chief Nam doesn't directly tell them. Everyone does.
When his shift is over, Juwon sits in the driver’s seat trying to will down the compelling force guiding him to Dongsik’s house. He manages for all of fifteen minutes, and pulls off the highway to drive back to Manyang.
Dongsik is on the front porch when Juwon walks up to his house. He's sitting with a lit cigarette and he looks… he looks like he always does, not anymore disheveled or unruly than what's considered normal for him. He's not crying and his face shows no signs that he’s shed any tears.
Dongsik looks fine, until Juwon walks up and they meet eyes.
“The prince has returned, I see,” Dongsik drawls, then takes a drag of his cigarette. Juwon offhandedly thinks of how long it might take to get the smell out of his own clothes.
“I know the Chief told everyone I'm off for the next few days,” he continues. “Looks like you'll have to find someone else to pester for a little while.”
Juwon swallows and remains silent. Dongsik is looking out at the street now, gazing at nothing.
“Did you kill them?”
Dongsik doesn't even flinch at the question. “Who?” He asks. “My sister? Lee Gumhwa? Bang Joseon? All the others?”
He sucks in another lungful of smoke and exhales it.
“All of them,” Juwon replies, then repeats — “Did you kill them?”
The older omega looks up at him, then. He's smiling but his eyes are something Juwon has never seen before.
These don't look like the eyes of a cold blooded killer. They're not soulless and empty, void of everything. There's so much emotion in them that Juwon feels suffocated.
“I don't know, Lieutenant,” Dongsik drawls. “Did I?”
It's the same fashion he always replies in, and before this moment, Juwon had interpreted it as him being smug and cocky, knowing Juwon had no evidence to convict him.
Before this moment, Lee Dongsik’s eyes were not shiny and suspiciously wet as he looked away from Juwon. He inhales a shaky breath of air.
“I'm not in the mood to be interrogated right now,” he tells Juwon. The hand holding the cigarette is shaking ever so slightly. “Maybe check back in tomorrow, I'll even tell you where Yuyeon’s body is.”
What was once seen as a cruel joke by what Juwon thought was a serial killer doesn't ignite rage in the omega. Dongsik isn't taunting him with unspoken words of, You'll never catch me.
Dongsik is playing with him. This whole time, Juwon was thinking that Dongsik was a fool, a fool who would be caught eventually.
Juwon is the fool now, he realizes. And right now, Dongsik is hurting.
Dongsik throws down his cigarette and stamps it out before he stands up. He's going inside of his house.
“You should head home. You never know who could be lurking.”
Dongsik shuts the door. Juwon's left alone just a foot from his doorstep. He stands there for a few seconds before slowly moving back in the direction of his car.
His eyes keep drifting to Dongsik’s empty desk at work. Patrol with Jihoon is different from the routine he and Dongsik have fallen into. Jihoon doesn't tease, or bicker, or try to work Juwon’s nerves. He doesn't take calls on his phone for senile men lost in fields. He calls Juwon hyung and spends a half hour putting a baby bird back in their tree.
It's ridiculous, and Juwon is thinking that Dongsik would've done the same thing.
He visits Dongsik again the next day, driving home to shower and change clothes after work, and purchasing a bouquet of white chrysanthemums before he drives right back to Manyang. He doesn't break in this time. He goes to the front door and he knocks.
A few knocks later, Dongsik opens the door and Juwon’s breath leaves his chest. Dongsik isn't wearing scent blockers. He's fresh from the shower with his hair still wet, a faded T-shirt hanging off his shoulder and only boxer shorts covering his legs. When he inhales, the tough, metallicness of Dongsik's scent swarms him, something so harsh and almost dirty for an omega.
He's reminded of the incident a few days before. His memory of that day is patchy, but he remembers snuffling Dongsik's wrists, huffing every whiff he could get.
“Glad to see you’ve become a law-abiding citizen,” is the first thing Dongsik says. “What’s with the flowers, Lieutenant? A parting gift before you lock me away?”
He's joking, but Juwon shakes his head. He extends them with a small bow. “For your mother,” Juwon says. He doesn't explain how he knows she's dead. He doesn't even know this officially, really, but it's obvious.
“My mother?” Dongsik repeats. For a second, Juwon thinks; Oh no. Did he assume wrong? Then, he feels guilty. It's better for him to be embarrassed than a woman to be dead.
Embarrassment doesn't come with Dongsik’s next words.
“You planning to become a grave robber? A dead woman can't hold flowers.”
The ease in which Dongsik talks about the horrible events of his life unnerved Juwon. Now that he's almost sure Dongsik is not the monster he was he was believed to be, he sees him in a different light. Would he be able to handle it, if he were scorned the way Dongsik was, and still is? Would he be able to joke so freely?
“It's common courtesy,” Juwon replies carefully.
Dongsik opens the door a little wider, his scent attacking Juwon. Not attacking. Swarming him; embracing him. He takes the flowers and makes a show of smelling them.
“Very thoughtful of you. You went out of your way for this, huh? For little ol’ me?”
Juwon swallows. “For your mother,” he tries to deny, weakly. Dongsik audibly laughs this time.
“Tell me, Lieutenant. If you didn't run a background check on my whole family, would you even know her name?”
He has a point. Juwon neglects to reply and Dongsik chuffs.
“Thought so.”
The door moves, and Juwon thinks it's going to be shut in his face. However, Dongsik is stepping back into the foyer, opening the door as wide as it can go.
“It's cold tonight. And late,” Dongsik says. “Flowers can't make it in the cold or the dark.”
Juwon blinks. “You're going to leave them outside?” He asks, puzzled. A smile stretches on Dongsik’s lips.
“I’m not talking about these flowers.”
It takes a second for Juwon to realize Dongsik is calling him a flower yet again, and inviting him inside. His heart jumps with the protest on the tip of his tongue.
“I should go home,” he says, and Dongsik hums.
“But you've already been home, haven't you?” He gestures to Joowon’s clothing. Really, he's only wearing this coat to hide the fact that he's wearing a pajama set, since he did plan to go back to his apartment for a final time after delivering the flowers. Still, it's clear this isn't his uniform.
“And there's no flower shop in Manyang that has a bouquet this expensive,” Dongsik continues.
Damn him and his observations.
“You've already wasted time driving out here twice. I promise I only bite a little bit.”
Juwon swallows thickly, unable to come up with an argument. Dongsik probably wouldn't listen to him, anyways, and he's right. Juwon didn't have to do this, yet he did. For a reason he will claim he doesn't know if ever questioned.
And there's a part of Juwon that wants to stay. That part of him guides his feet inside of the Lee family house and shuts the door behind him.
Dongsik puts the flowers on a table in the entryway. “These deserve a nice vase,” he says. “Maybe I'll drive and get one tomorrow.”
Juwon neatly takes off his shoes. There's no rack so he arranges them out of the walkway, then peels off his coat, hanging it upon a hook. This feels odd and alien. He and Dongsik aren't close, yet here he is, standing in his foyer in his pajamas.
“And you're sleepover ready?” Dongsik puts a hand over his chest, feigning shock. “Wow, Lieutenant. I'm impressed.”
“I was going to go straight home,” he defends himself. “There was no need to wear proper clothing.”
The other man huffs out a laugh.
“Did you eat yet?” Dongsik asks. Before Juwon can tersely remind him he doesn't use other people's dishes, Dongsik speaks again.
“I have an unused set of dishes, still in the box. Been meaning to break them out for a while now,” the omega continues, like it's natural of him to consider Juwon’s needs.
Juwon notices he's barefoot, and it would lightly bother him if his attention weren't drawn to his thighs. The blue plaid fabric of his boxers peeks out from beneath the big shirt and his thighs are paler than the rest of him, slim.
He doesn't know why he's looking there or why he's so reluctant to look away.
“Can you even cook?” He asks Dongsik, who laughs.
“I was wondering when you'd get that attitude of yours back,” he replies. “Mouth off too much, I might have to scruff you again.”
Juwon freezes. This is the first time either of them have acknowledged that day and his body runs hot as he attempts to think of a comeback, but Dongsik has already moved on.
“I don't trust my own cooking either, so I was planning on ordering something. Any suggestions, Lieutenant?”
Dongsik’s scruffing comment is not forgotten but Juwon chooses to let it go. “I'll pay,” he says. “Do you like Western cuisine?”
“Rich boys and their rich tastebuds,” Dongsik remarks, sighing. “Surprise me. I'm going to the bathroom, make yourself at home.”
Dongsik leaves, and Juwon opens his phone to scroll through the delivery catalog. As he does so, his mind drifts back to that day; the day he borderline regressed in front of the man he swore to put behind bars. As he thinks, he remembers something.
Hyuk said Dongsik called him because he had to go somewhere. Then, a day and a half later, the Chief indirectly tells them Dongsik’s mother has passed. It isn't hard to connect the pieces and Juwon’s chest feels tight all of a sudden.
He imagines it. Dongsik, getting a call from the nursing home, telling him his mother is dead. Dongsik, who instead of dropping everything and leaving Juwon vulnerable and alone… Unlocked Juwon’s phone and called someone he thought would handle him safely.
It's a lot to think about and makes Juwon feel slightly queasy. No one has considered him that way before.
“You drink?”
Juwon snaps out of his stupor as he realizes Dongsik has returned, plopping down onto the couch a decent distance away from Juwon. He has a six pack of beer.
“You have to drive in the morning, actually,” Dongsik says before Juwon can answer. “Not safe for you to get drunk.”
Just out of defiance, Juwon takes one of the cans. “I'm tolerant,” he replies. “One beer will have no effect on me in the morning.”
“You didn't even want that until I told you not to,” is what Dongsik retorts with, amused. “If you weren't my partner, I'd think being a brat is your full-time job.”
Juwon cracks open the beer and takes a sip as he adds food to his cart. Obviously, he doesn't drink more than one. Even if he didn't have to drive, he still has to work in the morning.
Dongsik drains one beer quickly. Then two, and he chugs half the third one before he sets it down and exhales heavily. His head leans back and his eyes shut for a few moments. Juwon takes advantage of that and openly stares at his side profile, the line of his throat.
His scent glands.
He looks away when Dongsik opens his eyes once more. The older omega is uncharacteristically quiet. It's the alcohol, maybe. He did just toss back two cans like it was nothing.
“Are you going to do anything about them?”
Juwon looks back to the older omega to find Dongsik isn't looking at him.
“About who?” He asks.
“My sister,” Dongsik says. “Bang Joseon. Lee Geumhwa. All the others.”
He turns his head to look at Juwon, his eyes dark and glittery.
“Are you going to find out who killed them?”
Juwon is quiet. “You're still a suspect,” is what he comes up with, and predictably, Dongsik smiles.
“Yet you’re in my house.”
“You invited me in.”
“Oh, so now the little prince can be peer pressured?” Dongsik scoffs. “Let's say this is part of your plan, then. Did you plunder around for evidence while I was in the bathroom?”
Dongsik drinks the rest of his third beer. His throat bobs when he does, the movement enticing.
“...No.”
“Rhetorical question, and you didn't answer my other one.”
Juwon forces himself not to look away from Dongsik. “I will,” he confirms; promises?
No. Han Juwon does not make promises, flimsy words that have no grounding. He commits and he acts. That's that.
“You will?” Dongsik repeats. “Of course you will. You're Han Kihwan’s son, fresh from the city, with your snobby attitude and expensive car. Failure isn't a word in your vocabulary.”
The words make Juwon bristle. They aren't quite an insult but they can't exactly be taken nicely and for the umpteenth time, Juwon has no retort.
“Oh, but… Maybe I'm wrong,” Dongsik continues, smiling yet again. “After all — Why else would Daddy Dearest send a prince like you to the sticks?”
A burning warmth ignites within Juwon. He remembers Lee Geumhwa. Her ring, her face aged with hardship, her accented Korean.
“I wanted a change of scenery,” Juwon replies. “Is that so bad?”
“A change of scenery, huh? You know, you're a horrible liar.”
Dongsik stands up, surprisingly stable for someone three drinks deep, and scoops up the beer cans from the coffee table. He has to bend over to do so and when he does —
Juwon does not look at his butt. He does not. Suddenly, the remaining two beer cans seem very enticing. However, he resists. His resolve has always been strong.
… Around everyone except Lee Dongsik. He stretches like a cat when he returns from disposing of the cans and his shirt rides up to expose the soft, flat belly Juwon has kneaded just a few days before. He has a mole by his navel and the band of his boxers is either worn out or the garment is slightly too big. They slip down the tiniest bit, exposing the thorny points of hip bones, the small swell of his lower belly that harbors the reproductive organs, hair that disappears down into his boxers.
His waist. Juwon has big hands, he could fit them on Dongsik's waist.
Dongsik puts his arms back down, retaining modesty once more. Juwon looks away and wonders why the room has suddenly gotten warmer.
“I think…” Juwon starts, as stable as he can. “...I think I should go home.”
“Sure.”
Juwon hadn't expected that. He expected Dongsik to push and pull like he always.
“But…”
He should've known better.
“...Is it because of what I said about you and your father?” Dongsik continues, cracking open a third can. “Or the fact that you haven't been able to keep your eyes upwards since you came inside?”
This is an unfamiliar situation. Usually, it's Juwon reading people, dissecting them, picking their actions apart and fishing out the thoughts they didn't reveal. But…
That's not right, is it? Dongsik isn't people. He's Lee Dongsik.
“I can see it in your eyes now, the way you think you're so clever, picking people apart. Never got a taste of your own medicine, have you, little prince?”
Juwon is not blushing. He's flushed red from… anger. Yeah, anger. His fists ball on his thighs and his back is rigid. He can keep his composure. Dongsik is no different from anyone else.
Juwon will keep it together no matter what stupid names Dongsik calls him.
“Cat got your tongue?” Dongsik asks, eyes shiny, grinning lips taking a sip from the can. “Never thought I'd see the day you shut your mouth.”
The younger tenses his jaw. “You're one to talk,” he refutes, trying to regain the upper hand, thinking of something to say to excavate this feeling in his chest he can't (Doesn't want to) identify.
Dongsik, per usual, takes no visible offense. “You know how old dogs are. We like to howl, be heard by someone, and so do little pups like you.”
“Don't —” Juwon snaps, more aggressive than he intended.
He reigns that emotion back in, and emotion he won't identify.
“... Don't call me that,” Juwon says again after a moment. “You're in no place to undermine me —”
“‘Course I'm not. You're a grown man. You've done great things,” Dongsik agrees easily. “But at the end of the day, you can't keep holding yourself back. Every part of us comes out. Every part.”
Dongsik’s scent is incredibly enticing right now. Which it shouldn't be. Dongsik is an omega and so is Juwon. His pheromones shouldn't affect Juwon this way. Is it possible he, somehow, forged his subgender on all that paperwork, paperwork that runs decades deep? Juwon will have to find out —
“What part of you have you hidden away?”
Juwon exhales and closes his eyes. He wants to tell Dongsik that who he displays is who he is. There's nothing hidden away. He isn't hiding anything. Who he is is who he was meant to be.
What comes out of his mouth instead is not anywhere near as firm.
“Stop,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper.
Dongsik doesn't stop.
“Who hurt you? Told you to be like this?”
… Then again, has Juwon ever been allowed to say no; or stop; or that he's getting overwhelmed?
No. He pushed everything down and trekked forward. One step, then two. A brisk pace in his life that would never falter.
Was never supposed to falter. His knees are weak now and he's falling behind. He's falling behind.
“Do I remind you of him?”
(No child of mine will be weak.)
“Someone who picks you apart. Makes you feel small.”
(No child of mine.)
“...Weak…”
(You're a Han. You represent me, and I don't represent weakness.)
“Powerless.”
(Always have the upper-hand, Juwon. Never let them get into your head. Emotions are a burden. The only thing you should be feeling is determination. Fix your face.)
“Like no matter how hard you try, you’ll never get above them.”
(There's no room for mistakes or failure. Failure isn't a part of the process, Juwon. Success is the process.
Succeed.
How many times are you going to fail me, Juwon?
How many times are you going to be weak like your mother?)
Juwon lets his emotions consume him, and his thighs are over Dongsik’s lap, and their lips are pressing together. Dongsik tastes like yeasty beer and his lips are just as plush as they looked.
Dongsik laughs into his mouth and then Juwon’s scruff is being grabbed again but only for a moment, only to pull him away.
“Look at you,” he drawls. “From a sophisticated mutt to a wild hound. How shameful.”
He's being mocked and he doesn't like that.
“Oh? What's with those eyes?” Dongsik asks. “Are you challenging me, little prince?”
Juwon seethes. His carefully masked composure is slipping, cracking.
“I am not weak,” Juwon hisses, fisting his hands into the front of Dongsik’s shirt. “And I am not powerless. No one's hurt me in the way you think —”
“Really?”
Dongsik’s hand cups his cheek. Juwon can't even flinch, captivated by the older omega's eyes.
“Then why are you crying?”
Juwon tries to furiously wipe at his own tears, but Dongsik beats him to it, his other hand grabbing Juwon’s while he tenderly pats the tears away. One after another they fall, and Dongsik catches every single one.
“It's okay,” Dongsik soothes him. Juwon thinks he's trying to comfort him, at first. Get him to stop crying.
“You're allowed to cry.”
Oh, fuck him. Juwon growls but there's no real bite behind it and Dongsik knows that, huffing out a laugh in Juwon’s face.
“This again?” He muses. “It’s okay. You can growl at me, hiss at me, or show your pretty fangs. Anything you need to do to get those emotions out.”
“Fuck you,” Juwon snarls, the sound pathetic compared to what he knows Dongsik is capable of vocalizing. The older omega’s scent is stronger and his pupils are blown out.
“Of course I will,” Dongsik replies easily. “How do you want me to, Juwon-ah? Where do you want me to touch you?”
Frustrated, Juwon tries to kiss him again, to make Dongsik shut up and stop spewing words that make him feel fuzzier by the second.
Dongsik doesn't let him. He grabs Juwon by the back of his neck, not quite his scruff, but enough to get the point across.
“Ah, ah,” Dongsik chastises him. “Tell me. Use your words. Tell me what you want so I can give it to you.”
He's just being — being cruel. He knows what Juwon wants. He can smell it in Juwon’s scent; see it in his eyes.
He doesn't have to make him say it. He doesn't have to make Juwon feel so small, and the omega fights the feeling, fights Dongsik. Yet another growl rips from his throat and anyone else would've heckled him. An omega? Growling so many times at his superior? It's unacceptable; unheard of.
Dongsik only smiles and pets the hair at the nape of his neck. That makes Juwon angrier, the gentleness, the tender touch. The anger is hot and filling him up, overflowing, but he still doesn't move from Dongsik’s lap or tear himself out of the older omega’s hold.
He finds that he doesn't want to and that ignites him further.
“Kiss me,” Juwon says at last, airy and low. He wants it to come across as a demand. However, he's breathing fast and his knuckles are white, clenching in Dongsik’s shirt.
Said omega gently, firmly unfurls his balled fists. “Good boy,” he praises. “Good omega.”
Then he kisses him.
Any sort of intimacy is alien to Juwon. He is a stranger to physical contact. An enemy of it, even. Germs make him itch and there is so much bacteria inside the human mouth, bacteria that mingles when his slips slide against Dongsik’s.
For once, it doesn't bother him. Dongsik’s lips are soft and Juwon thinks he knows what he's doing. Juwon wouldn't know. His life has been dedicated to studying, trekking the path paved out for him a path that had no room for partners or hook-ups along the way.
A virgin bride. That’s the image his father has groomed him into, with monthly exams to ensure he showed no signs of penetration — Nevermind that the hymen could be ruptured in other ways. Juwon is supposed to walk down the aisle with an alpha of his father's choice, to become impure only on his honeymoon, be leashed into a marriage and birth pups that will continue the family legacy.
Warm wetness is dirtying his underwear, his thighs slippery with his slick. It perfumes the air lightly, the scent of his arousal, damp and musky.
He impatiently grabs Dongsik's hand and guides it to his thighs, making the older laugh breathlessly when they pull apart.
“Don't be bossy,” he tells Juwon, grabbing his hips instead. “If you want something from me, ask me for it nicely and I'll give it to you.”
Juwon hisses, displeased. Dongsik hisses back, sending a shock down his spine, and only prompting him to hiss again, weaker this time.
“What, you're a kitty, now?” Dongsik muses. Juwon is not impressed.
“Aigoo. You're a fussy little prince, aren't you?”
A hand strokes down his spine. Juwon preens into the touch yet his lips stubbornly remain glued shut.
“Gonna keep quiet?” Donhsik asks. “Fine, then. We can play like that.”
Donhsik pats him until he moves and slinks down into the couch. His fingers, thick and small, fiddle with the buttons of Juwon’s pajama top until they come undone and expose his bare chest. A calloused hand runs down the soft, smooth skin and catches on a tawny colored nipple.
Juwon's back arches the slightest bit. Dongsik coos like it's the cutest thing in the world.
He pinches his pebble nipple between his forefinger and thumb, pinching until a soft whine is forced out of Juwon. It hurts, painful in a way he isn't used to; aching in a way that feels so good. His cunt throbs with desperation, clenching tightly around nothing.
“Look at you.” Dongsik's voice is soft, bordering on a purr as he massages Juwon's pectoral.
“Just gorgeous.”
His thighs spread, beckoning the older omega to come closer. His throat constricts and his eyes tingle.
“H…”
He hiccups, lashes fluttering.
“Hyung.”
Dongsik’s grin is sharp, cutting into him, and he welcomes the sting, embraces it.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Juwon swallows down… something. A thick pool of saliva and something else, something desperate and shameful.
“...Hyung,” he calls again, quieter. He reaches for Dongsik until his hand is wrapped into the older’s.
“I'm right here,” Dongsik replies. “Do you want something, little prince?”
His cheeks are wet, salt slipping between his lips and into his tongue until he parts them and lets out a sob.
“Hyung,” he pleads. “Please. P-please, hyung.”
Dongsik kisses his collarbone. “Good omega.”
His fingers grab into Juwon’s waistband and tug at his pants, Juwon needily raising his hips to aid in getting them off. They slip down with his underwear and the slick has smeared all over the insides of his thighs, making them shiny and wet.
His hands push Juwon’s thighs apart until his fingers can stroke the fleshy outer lips of his pussy and his hips roll against the contact, breath stuttering.
“I've never heard you call me that. Can you say it again?”
A digit brushes the skin of his labia, the tiny entrance of his urethra. Juwon shivers as he processes it, and his voice is tiny when he says; “Hyung.”
He's rewarded with one finger, just one, pushing at his entrance.
“Good boy,” Dongsik breathes, and when Juwon inhales, his scent goes straight to the omega's brain. His hole seizes the intrusion, pulsing and leaking around it.
“You don't have to be a little brat when you're with me, Juwon-ah,” Dongsik drawls. “If you want something from me, you open that pretty mouth and ask me, like a good boy.”
The finger sinks in up to the palm and gently moves in and out. It isn't a big intrusion in the slightest though it burns deep in his gut, scratching an itch he didn't know he had and simultaneously forming another that crawls along his skin. Slick pours out of him, and he's wetter than he's ever been.
“Aigoo, look at this mess,” Dongsik teases, gently prodding in and out of Juwon. “You've been needing this, I can tell.”
Then, all contact is removed and Juwon growls in displeasure. Dongsik chuffs at him, and Juwon quiets, watching the older omega strip his boxers off. There's a thick bush of hair between his thighs, so different from Juwon’s sugar waxed flesh, and he smells downright delectable. His hips push up against nothing , begging for —
… Something. Anything, if it involves Dongsik’s slim body and wet cunt, Dongsik as a whole.
“You'll have to take the reins here, sweetheart,” the older omega says, already gently switching their positions. Dongsik is on the bottom now, his shirt pushed up his belly, exposing a soft tummy and a glistening pussy hidden beneath curly hair.
“These old bones can't move like yours do.”
His hands position on Juwon’s hips, the thighs that Juwon has been unable to keep his eyes off of spreading wide. It feels instinctual to straddle Dongsik, to press their bodies together until their legs are slotted against each other.
Juwon shivers, letting out a soft exhale. Dongsik smells different from him. A musky sort of sweet, over ripened, but still mouthwatering. He braces his hands upon Dongsik’s shoulders, brain trying to compute how he should move.
“I've never done this,” he admits in a small, breathy voice.
“With an omega?” Dongsik asks, gazing up at him. “An older person?”
Juwon swallows. “Anyone,” he elaborates. Dongsik releases a heavy breath and a curse that sounds more like a prayer.
“It's not that hard.”
Those small, callous hands are grabbing his hips again, tugging them forward.
“Just move like this.”
Friction is produced and the pleasure is immediate. His clit jumps from the shock of stimulation and his hole pushes out a rush of slick that spills over Dongsik. He doesn't need any further instruction, any hesitation or caution lost as he grinds his hips more confidently.
Dongsik moans. Juwon has heard him grunt, and groan; hiss and growl, but never a sound so downright lewd. His exposed throat bobs when he tilts his head back and the blunt tips of his fingers dig into Juwon’s waist.
Juwon has the tantalizing urge to bite him. His fangs tingle, saliva pooling in his gums as he brings Dongsik’s wrist to his mouth.
He doesn't bite his scent gland. Floaty as he is, he still knows that would be a reckless action. Still, his canines have a mind of their own and scrape Dongsik’s skin — teething him, almost, as he huffs his aroma, canting his cunt against Dongsik's with a desperate, needy rhythm.
“You wanna bite me?” Dongsik asks, the hand that hasn't been snatched by Juwon reaching back to squeeze his ass.
“Bite me.”
Juwon makes a small, whiny sounding growl in the back of his throat.
“Go ahead,” Dongsik encourages him, voice husky and eyes hazy. “Mark me, like a good pup.”
Juwon isn't a pup, yet his teeth still sink into Dongsik’s skin, just a few centimeters away from his pulsing scent gland. Dongsik trembles and Juwon savors the taste of his blood, his flesh.
It's sweeter than anything he's ever tasted.
He suckles the wound, lapping up the crimson blood that spills out of the injury. It isn't a proper mating mark, but he feels satisfied anyways, sucking so hard the area around the puncture begins to bruise.
“Good boy,” Dongsik praises him, breathless. “Keep going. Cum for hyung.”
The younger omega whines. His clit is throbbing and he can't keep this up much longer, the sensitivity driving him mad.
“Mm… That's it. Take what you need from hyung. Make a mess.”
When Juwon orgasms, he does just that.
His body bursts into a fit of tremors and he's so unsteady he can't keep himself up, keeling over and letting his body fall over Dongsik’s. His hips grind, seeking a last little bit of stimulation as he pants heavily through his mouth. There's so much fluid, him and Dongsik leaking slick in tandem, a wet, slippery mess made between their thighs.
Small hands hold him close, a soft voice crooning in his ear. It almost hurts to pull away, but the omega inside of Juwon is eager, hunting until his face stuffs into the gooey, sticky cunt between Dongsik’s thighs.
He's swollen; a shade of pink that Juwon can't describe. His skin is so soft that Juwon can't settle on just one place, growling as he nuzzles Dongsik’s cunt, lips messily securing the erect pearl of his clit.
“Ah.”
Dongsik’s moans are like music to his ears, stroking him just the right way. Hair tickles his cheeks, rubs them raw, and he doesn't stop even when he feels Dongsik’s pussy let out a gush of creamy slick.
“Juwon-ah —” Dongsik almost begs, laughing. “An old hound like me can only take so much. Have mercy.”
He's pulled away firmly by the hair, and in response, he sinks his fangs into Dongsik’s thighs. The older omega hisses through his teeth. Still, a hand strokes his scalp, preening through his hair and encouraging him to bite and suckle as he pleases. The omega inside Juwon is frantic, not calming until the pale skin of Dongsik’s thighs are decorated in reddened bites and suction marks.
“What am I, a chew toy?”
Juwon gnaws on the meat of his thighs, as if to prove Dongsik’s point.
“Bratty little thing,” Dongsik scoffs, trying to move, and Juwon growls. He doesn't want Dongsik to be even a foot apart from him.
Somehow, someway, Juwon is coaxed into a bath, where he bites Dongsik’s collarbones and chest until the older omega actually has to scruff him to make him stop. Even then, Juwon is not deterred, passionate on his mission of marking Dongsik up.
“Up, up. Up you go.”
Juwon doesn't want to get up.
“I can't carry you, especially since we’re both wet — You have to get up.”
Juwon doesn't want to. The omega in him wants to stay right here in the warm, soapy water, sucking marks into Dongsik’s skin.
He doesn't comprehend toweling off, or changing back into his pajamas. He whines when Dongsik tries to make him drink some water.
“Whine all you want,” Dongsik sasses at him. “You lost a lot of fluids, drink up.”
He nips at the older omega’s fingers and growls, but there's no actual threat in the sound, and Dongsik knows this. He hisses at Juwon, fangs glistening.
“Just the fussiest little brat I've ever met,” he mumbles, and presses his wrist near Juwon’s nose.
The younger omega perks up at the scent, chasing it, but Dongsik draws away from him before he can snuffle him. Juwon doesn't like that, not in the slightest, and makes that known by chuffing in displeasure.
“Just a few sips,” Dongsik tells him. “A few sips, then hyung will let you scent him.”
It's a decent bargain. Juwon begrudgingly drinks the water, then immediately pushes it away, pulling Dongsik down to lay with him. He thinks he hears Dongsik laughing but he isn't completely sure, his head spinning in circles as the pheromones enter his system.