Archive of Our Own

Autumn light shines in through the window where Minho sits, an orange glow cascading over the small, intimate shop. He squints his eyes to avoid the glare. It’s quiet, just the faint sound of smooth jazz emanating from a small speaker in the corner and the litter of whispered conversations filling the room. The smell of faint strawberry fills his nose, and he isn’t sure whether it's the cakes or just Felix’s scent filling the room.

It’s his favourite place, The Sugar Button. He thought originally that Hyunjin’s investment in a bakery just to appease his mate was a stupid idea, but as he always does, Felix outdid himself and made the place a success. Plus, Minho happens to get free baked goods delivered to his house whenever he makes a few too many than needed, so really, who is the real winner?

Minho sits back in the small brown chair he is perched on and takes another forkful of his brownie. It's 14:55, and he knows he is slightly early, but even still… he wouldn’t miss a chance for one of Felix’s most popular recipes.

The door swings open with a small ring of the bell, and the familiar face that Minho has been waiting for enters. 

Hyunjin is a soft alpha, his hair neatly shaved but growing out nonetheless, and the way he walks and carries himself isn’t that of a typical alpha. No, everything he does is softer, delicate; one could easily mistake him for an omega. In fact, that happens a lot when he and Felix are seen together. But Felix — being one of the feistiest omegas Hyunjin could have possibly found — is quick to set the record straight.

Minho watches as he makes his way to the counter, leans over the wooden panel slightly and leaves a small kiss on the soft skin of his omega's cheek, startling him.

The smell of strawberry and green tea pulses steadily into the room, most people don’t notice… Minho, however, has been too exposed to it not to.

“You stink.” Minho points as Hyunjin finally takes a seat at the opposite side of his table. “What, are we just not wearing scent blockers anymore?”

Hyunjin laughs a little, takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m happily mated, I don't need to wear those shitty things anymore. Where I may be, let my scent roam free and all that jazz.”

“Hm, speak for yourself.” 

“Well, Mr ‘I don't need a mate to be happy’ maybe one day you can stop wearing them too.” Hyunjin air quotes.

Minho has known Hyunjin since they were children. From the small BBQs in the family garden, to Minho hysterically laughing when Hyunjin fell and grazed his knee. Their mothers would often sit together on the front porch, watching them play, the best of friends. Minho even thought at one point that maybe they could be mates, but the idea was quickly thrown when they both presented as alphas around the same time.

Since then, Hyunjin had had a fair share of omegas to help him through his ruts, and would help his fellow omegas through their heats, their friend Seungmin being one of them, but none ever slotted into his life the way that Felix did. Hyunjin changed instantly, seeking out his omega until one particularly tough heat hit, and Felix finally asked him to help. Minho nearly threw him in the air fryer when he had returned with a mating mark and claimed he was ‘in love’, but here he is now. Felix had quickly become an important part of Minho’s life too, there was a strange comfortability that sat between them, an essence that he radiated that made Minho open up to him; he understood him, they were best friends… a trio. 

Minho was the opposite of Hyunjin.

He had never been one for normality; he often would find himself actively avoiding omegas, actually… Hyunjin would tease him often — “oh you want some alpha on alpha action? Is that what it is!” — that wasn’t what it was, but the idea of being mated, claimed by someone, claiming someone else? Never sat right with Minho. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet.” His mum would say, but Minho was in no rush.

He managed his ruts completely fine alone, actually — along with the help of Felix. The omega always delivering him his weekly baked goods, adding something extra sweet in there and hand delivering it every single Friday after the week ends. Even during his rut, Felix would come and sit with him. Never worried about his Alpha instincts; they never crossed any lines. Hyunjin was more than happy for them to spend time without him — even if he did scent Felix as much as he could before he left to make the trip.

However batting off a queue of omegas Hyunjin had sent his way was an everyday activity for him. None of them fit; he was too busy with work, his cats, his life… he didn't have time or patience to seek out a mate. Sure, he was most certainly not an innocent man, his alpha urges would get the best of him sometimes… but luckily, his friend Jeongin, both a gorgeous man and also not one for normality, had presented as a Beta, and whenever Minho's natural urges would spike, he would be there for Minho to sink his teeth into — metaphorically of course.

“So, the showcase.” Felix’s voice sounds from behind them both.

Minho scoots his chair over slightly to make room for him, “aren’t you meant to be working?”

“Nah, someone's covering me, I've got five minutes.” Felix slaps his hands on his thighs. “So, tell me, what's the vibe?”

The three fall into comfortable conversation. Felix has always been like a tether, bringing them back down to earth when they get carried away. The three of them worked for a successful dance company in the city, Minho being the main choreographer, that’s how Felix and Hyunjin had met, too. They talk about the showcase, about the costumes, lighting, and how bad one particular student is.

“We definitely have to put him at the back.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. Felix slaps him lightly on the shoulder and tells him not to be mean. Minho laughs high-pitched and airy at them both.

Five minutes quickly rolls into forty.

Felix had been called away a few times from the conversation to go and help with manning the counter, and each time Hyunjin’s scent had spiked into a bitter lemon at him being more than five feet away.

Minho can't imagine himself feeling that way, can’t imagine someone having that effect on him. He supposes that when the time is right, the right person will find him… no matter what or who they are.

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It's a regular week, work has been hectic as always with the planning and rehearsing, especially with Hyunjin missing from assisting because of his rut hitting, and Minho is exhausted. Thank god it’s Friday. 

Minho turns the lock to his front door and presses his back against it.

“Thank god I'm home.” He kicks off his shoes, depositing them in a haphazard pile next to the shoe rack. He doesn’t even care about how messy his house looks right now.

There's day-old washing up in the sink from his thrown-together meal last night, and his throw cushions are in one pile on the couch with a cat curled lazily around them. His floor could do with a hoover, and his rubbish bin needs emptying.

He can be a responsible adult another time, right now… he has to prioritise his rest, it's not like anyone's going to see his house anyway, aside from Felix delivering his usual weekly goods, and he certainly won't care.

‘Meow’

Minho looks down at his feet, where an orange tail wraps around his ankles.

“Ah, Soonie baby! Are you hungry?” He reaches down to scratch under the feline's chin. “Ok, ok, let's get you some food, hm.”

In the kitchen, he’s reminded of how bad his house actually looks. Still, he crouches down and tries to pay no attention as he squeezes a fresh pouch of cat food into three bowls.

‘Pst pst’

The jingle of tiny cat bells ring in chorus through the hall, Dori, followed closely by Doongie, and Soonie is already tucking into his bowl.

“Hungry boys!” He scratches at the base of Doongie's tail before leaving them to eat in peace.

His body aches, he supposes from the treacherous hours in the studio, his clothes smell of sweat and burnt coffee, stronger than usual, and his stomach is grumbling so loud it could wake a sleeping bear. He sighs, checking the clock. He has twenty minutes before Felix comes over.. 7 PM on the dot every week. He supposes a shower is in order.

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The cool water is soothing on his aching muscles as he stands under the spray, coating his skin and running down his chest in rivulets. He leans his head under the fall of the shower, letting it cascade over his hair, sticking it to his forehead and closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath as the quiet surrounds him, his chest shakes on the exhale.

Minho has always been a fan of solitude; the option to spend his time with people or to spend it alone has always been something he has valued. Hyunjin and Felix came as a duo, so it was pretty easy for him to fall into some kind of trio friendship with the pair. 

In fact, it was Felix who made him understand omegas, taught him they were much more than what society liked to make out, helped him see them as more than just what they could add to his life. He always knew his urges screamed when certain omegas were near, and sure, he had sexual desires, but whenever he had the urge to knot a pretty omega, Felix had always slapped him on the wrist.

“We aren't pieces of meat. You have to treat us with respect.”

His voice still rings in Minho’s head to this day, and that was five years ago when they first got close. But it stuck, Minho suppressed his natural desires and the voices in his head, and only really spent time with omegas when it was completely platonic.

But now, he genuinely just thinks he works best alone. He couldn't imagine someone coming and filling any space in his home, in his life. In fact, there was no space, work and his three babies took up all of his time. He was fine alone.

As much as he likes being alone though, the silence did sometimes make him want to have someone around.

Minho brushes his wet hair out of his face as he steps from the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and picking at one corner of his scent blocker patches to peel it off, the small hairs on his neck tugging from the sticky residue. He hates them, but he knows realistically it’s better if he wears them in public. Hyunjin and Felix were again the exception to smelling his natural scent.

As he makes his way to the living room, he checks his watch, 7:03 PM… It's unlike Felix to be late, but not impossible, but still, he feels uncomfortable about it, on edge, and his stomach isn’t getting any quieter. He lifts out his phone and shoots a quick text to the omega.

Minho -

Hey lix, where are my weekly pastries! I'm wasting away over here. 🙁

Do you want your Hyung to die?

Lix - 

Don't be dramatic, Hyung.

They are on their way.

Minho smiles at the knowledge that in a few minutes his home will smell of fresh pastries and his stomach will be filled with deliciousness, then… he can finally relax for the night. Deal with his house in the morning.

He lazes on the sofa, and Soonie climbs up onto his lap as he scratches behind his ears.

There's a small knock on the door a short while later.

“Come in!” Minho shouts, not bothering to move. Felix always lets himself in anyway.

Another knock.

“I said come in lix!” He shouts again, a little more impatient this time. Maybe it’s the hunger.

He hears the front door click open, his mouth waters at the smell that fills his space, fresh pastry, blueberry muffins, maybe some cinnamon rolls. God, Felix went all out this week. Maybe he knows Minho’s pre-rut has hit; he’s always been a sucker for sweet foods when the time comes around.

“Just pop them on the counter, Soonie’s asleep I don’t wanna wake him.” He’s a softie for his cat's comforts.

Felix doesn’t speak, which is unusual… He normally announces his presence with a loud “HONEY IM HOME.” His strawberry scent filling the space, sweet, too sweet for Minho. Come to think of it, there is no strawberry smell.

“Lix?” He shouts, twisting slightly on the sofa to peer at the kitchen. 

Soonie is abruptly woken up as Minho jumps up from the sofa, he meows grumpily as he pads off towards the bedroom.

Minho expects Felix, expects his weekly delivery… What he doesn’t expect is –

“Erm hi, I-Im Han Jisung.” 

The man’s voice is uncharacteristically deep for his small frame. Minho would think it would sound a little higher, sweeter, airy. The man stands in the kitchen doorway, hands by his sides.

Minho’s eyes are locked onto the unwelcome figure, a growl escaping his chest, the air spikes with a bitter scent of burnt sugar and burnt coffee.

“Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house!” He snarls.

“Oh, sorry. Jisung, I- Felix told me to drop these off.” The man, Jisung, mumbles.

Minho didn’t even notice the box in his hand, a baby-blue package wrapped in a bright pink bow, ‘The Sugar Button’ scrawled on the front in calligraphy font.

“Felix?”

“Yeah, he said he couldn’t come… asked me to pick these up from the shop and bring them here, he didn’t want you to go without. I’m sorry if I’m late, by the way, I actually got stalked by this weird looking pigeon on my way here and I swear it was trying to steal the pastries. I didn’t let it of course. Felix told me to make sure they got to you ok and –”

Minho’s eyes widen as he watches Jisung yapping into the space between them, every word rushed and awkward. Cute.

His inner alpha purrs.

He’s staring at Jisung’s mouth now, watching it as if time is in slow motion; it doesn’t stop… just keeps going, as if he is reading off his entire inner monologue.

‘Meow’

The sound of Soonie breaks him from his trance.

“Aw, hey little erm –” Soonie’s tail wraps around the curve of Jisung’s ankle. He crouches down to reach a hand out for him to sniff.

“Guy.” Minho swallows, "He's a boy.”

Jisung looks up at Minho with wide eyes before fixating back onto Soonie, who seems to now be nuzzling the side of his face on the back of Jisung’s hand. “Hey little guy. Felix didn’t say you had cats.”

Minho groans, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hm, Felix forgets to tell people a lot of things clearly.”

Jisung stands, straightening out the sleeves of his cardigan. “Could I use your bathroom? The walk was pretty far.”

“You wal – I mean, yeah sure, through the hall to the left.” Minho shakes his head.

“Thank you,” Jisung whispers as he tiptoes out of the room.

As soon as he hears the lock click for the bathroom door, Minho grabs his phone, dialling Felix’s number. He holds it to his ear, hearing the faint shuffle of feet in the bathroom.

“Hello?” Felix answers within a few rings.

“Don’t ‘hello’ me! What the fuck did you send a stranger to my house for!” Minho shout whispers.

“Dont swear at him!” 

“Hyunjin?” Minho takes his phone away from his ear for a second to glance at it.

“Hyung, I would never let you miss out on the goods!” Felix sounds like he’s smiling

“The goods, being a pretty little omega! Hannie is cute right?” Hyunjin laughs quietly on the other end.

“What are you guys even doing, actually… don't answer that. What the fuck do you mean an omega??” Minho swallows.

Jisung is too quiet, or maybe it was Minho’s brain rebooting that made him not hear the flush of the toilet and the lock of the bathroom door, because now Jisung stands in the hall again, and Minho struggles to form a competent sentence.

“Thanks again.” Jisung smiles.

Felix gasps on the other end of the line. “Oh my god is that JiJi? Tell him i said h-”

Minho cuts the call before he can finish his sentence.

“Was that Lix?” Jisung smiles brightly, Minho’s throat is dry at the view of the omega’s teeth, his heart-shaped mouth when he smiles, fuck… he’s actually really pretty.

“O-Oh, yeah. Was just letting him know you got here ok. Thanks for the pastries by the way, you didn’t have to like, walk here.”

Jisung still stands in the doorway, rocking on his feet back and forth.

“Oh my god, I’m so rude, here.” Minho steps to the side slightly. “Have a seat, do you want a drink?”

Jisung scoffs out a laugh. “Where do you want me to sit? On a cat or on the pile of cushions that look like your omega can't make a nest to save their life?”

Minho scrunches his eyebrows together. “My – My omega? Oh, no. That's not, that's not a nest, it's just.”

“Minho hyung, it’s fine.” Jisung steps around the sofa, clearing a small space for himself and perches on the edge.

Minho isn’t sure why the honorific sends prickles down his spine. His inner alpha screams at him for letting the omega exist in his space, no prior warning, just placed on the edge of the sofa.

He leaves the room to step into the kitchen, running himself a glass of water that he chugs down as if he had just spent a month in the middle of the Sahara Desert. His skin bristles from the faint glide of material against his chest, his scent spiking into something sweet —he blames it on his rut approaching. He clicks his neck before grabbing a can of soda from the fridge, and walks back towards where Jisung is sitting in the front room.

He hands Jisung the drink, who takes it with a small thank you, and then sits in the furthest seat away.

“So, why exactly did Felix ask you to deliver them instead of him?”

“Well, urm…” Jisung swallows, his cheeks suddenly blooming red.

From the newfound closeness between them, he can see the faint bead of sweat on Jisung’s temple. He’s dressed in a light green cardigan and a white sheer shirt underneath, his jeans look two sizes too big, and his clunky, well-worn trainers stick out of the flared edge of the bottom of them. His skin is a honey gold, and his hair is styled in a soft middle parting. Minho watches the tensing of his hand and the bob of his throat as he tries to speak again; he’s nervous.

Minho has always prided himself on not being a ‘typical’ alpha, he didn't lack self control like some of the others he had come into contact with — Not usually, But with Jisung sat so pretty perched on the edge of his couch, so small regardless of his wide shoulders and thick arms, something stirs in Minho’s gut, something akin to his natural urges, his alpha screaming about how easy it would be to pin him -

He shakes the thoughts away, focusing on Dori, who is curled into a ball near the cat tree instead.

“He erm, he said he was spending Hyunjin’s you know…”

Minho does know, but somehow seeing Jisung struggling to even say the word ‘rut’ stirs something in his stomach.

“Hyunjin’s?”

“Erm, his… his rut.” Jisung bows his head, stares at the can of soda in his hand instead of at Minho.

Minho nods, of course… he isn't sure why he didn’t put two and two together, he smirks before composing himself again. “Ah, well… that's a lot more important than some pastries, I guess.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, then looks back up at Minho. “Hm, I don't know… I love coffee so pastries are important to balance the flavour.”

Minho realises a little bit too quickly that he’s in the presence of someone other than Felix and Hyunjin, and he’s not wearing scent patches, he’s always been good at masking his scent, he never wanted people to assume things of him because of his alpha pheremones, He quickly slaps a hand over his scent gland and winces at the newly burnt coffee smell in the air. Jisung didn’t mean it like that; he wasn't saying it about Minho. Coffee is just a regular thing that goes with pastries.

“Yeah, anyways.” Minho swallows.

“I think I need to probably get going, thanks though for the drink and all.” Jisung lifts the can in a cheers before standing quickly. Minho barely has time to register him leaving before the front door slams behind him, and Jisung is gone.

Minho removes his palm from his neck; his scent bursts with a fresh aroma of caramel, an undertone that rarely shows.

His stomach grumbles again, and he places a hand on his waist, the smell of blueberries still so strong in his nose, like it’s clinging there… It's been eight hours since he last ate; his body must really hate him right now. Rushing into the kitchen, he pries the small sticky label from the box and lifts the lid, his mouth watering, so fucking ready to stuff himself full of sweet treats, to satiate the gnawing ache in his stomach both from hunger and his pre-rut. But as his eyes scan the box, a frown forms on his face.

He would be lying if he said the plethora of goods that Felix has prepared weren’t good enough, cinnamon swirls, pan au chocolat, some savoury pastry of some sort tucked into the one corner, but none of them seemingly blueberry… he picks up the small note sticking to the lid on the inside of the box, usually scribbled with a doodle of one of his cats that Felix has drawn during a quiet period at work – he claims he’s been learning how to draw thanks to Hyunjin, Minho still thinks his cats look like overfilled balloons but who is he to judge – He reads the note aloud.

Minho hyung, sorry I couldn’t hand deliver today! I’ll miss you. I promise I'll bring you 5 extra sweet treats when your pre-rut hits, mwah xx

He takes out his phone to snap a picture of the note. He probably won’t get a response for a while… not if Hyunjin is latched onto his neck anyway, but still, he types out a small message.

Minho -

[Image attached]

News flash tiny omega, I'm already in pre-rut. Also, which one has blueberries in it?

He hits send, but before he can place his phone on the counter, it begins to ring. Minho taps the answer button and places it on loudspeaker.

“Minho hyung, why didn't you say you were in pre-rut?! Are you crazy!” Felix is a little breathless on the other end of the line.

“What? When have I ever had to tell you, it doesn’t make a difference any other time!”

“I sent an omega to your house!” Felix whines.

Minho’s glad he isn’t in the same room because even from the high pitch of Felix’s voice, he can tell his scent must be spiking something sour right now.

“Yeah, you did. He’s gone now.”

Felix sighs. “What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened, nothing happened. He brought me goodies.” Minho’s stomach grumbles. “Speaking of which, blueberry… which one am I grabbing first?”

He can almost hear Felix swallow when he whispers. “There is no blueberry.”

Minho scoffs, “Ha. Ha, very funny… If I starve because of you then you wont have an alpha to bake for any more, so quit lying.”

“Minho.” Hyunjin’s voice startles him. “You just made my omega a shivering wreck. Can you not?”

“Ok. One, reign in your alpha right now before I shove you in the air fryer, two… how did I make him a wreck? I’m just asking about the sweets!”

“There isn’t any blueberry Minho. The blueberry smell is Jisung.” He groans.

Minho laughs a little, but the silence on the other end of the call is a little bit too loud. “Wait, you're not joking?”

“No.” Hyunjin states, matter of fact.

Minho cuts the call, stares at the screen for a second before grabbing the cinnamon swirl from the centre of the box and forcing it into his mouth. Anything to satiate the gnawing sweet tooth.

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It doesn’t help; the ache in Minho’s abdomen is persistent, sending goosebumps through his body, an uncomfortable nagging. He’s been planted in a spot in the kitchen for the past thirty minutes, and he isn't sure when he ate seven pastries, but all the sweet ones are gone. They usually last him a week minimum, and the smell of blueberries still clings to his insides as if it's a craving.

He takes a deep breath and closes the lid to the pastries, pocketing his phone and making his way to the front room. 

As he walks closer to the sofa, his inner alpha perks up. The smell here is heady, so strong… as if someone is holding blueberries directly in front of his face, dangling them there, like they’ve squeezed them slightly so their juice drips onto Minho’s tongue. He needs to satiate this ache.

The sofa Jisung was previously sitting on is only a few steps away. He glances over at the cushions and decides to grab one, for no reason. Definitely not his alpha screaming for the scent of the pliant omega that's infiltrated his space, leaving his sweet, sickly smell in Minho’s home.

He leans down over the back of the sofa and grabs one fluffy light green pillow that’s fallen onto the seat, but as he lifts it, his jaw drops open.

There, on his sofa, is a patch of something wet, staining the fabric a little darker. It’s not like his cats to pee on furniture; he's never had that issue. And when he presses two fingers into the stain and lifts it to his nose to inspect it, his mind isn’t thinking straight. It could be anything, but Minho is more concerned about his couch to care; he can wash his hands. The sofa, though, would need a full clean from the looks of it.

The residue coats his fingers, and glides over them like honey – definitely not anything he has spilt – he brings it to his nose and instantly regrets it. The fresh scent of blueberry hits him like a wave, his fingers brush against the tip of his nose, and he audibly groans.

Shit

The smell is so strong that Minho is dizzy, he walks around the sofa and kneels in front of it, his face dangerously close to the cushion, his fingers shine under the light from where the residue clings to his skin. He presses his nose closer, taking in a deep inhale and shudders when a thousand prickles rush through his body.

“Jisung.” he groans.

His eyes shoot open wide, slick. Jisung has slicked all over his couch. The thought sends his mind into overdrive, he puts two and two together and gets four. No wonder Jisung was in such a rush to leave; he didn’t even give Minho a chance to say bye, to see him out. Was he in a rush… because of this?

Minho’s alpha surfaces, primal instincts taking over as he digs his fingers back into the wet patch again, bringing it to his nose and inhaling once more, the scent is heavenly. His stomach aches, his head is fuzzy, and his whole body is on fire. He glances around his room as if there could be anyone to watch what he’s about to do… there isn't even a cat in sight. And then…

He parts his lips, pressing the pads of his fingers into the flat of his tongue, blueberry and something distinctly chocolatey bursts on his taste buds, his mouth filling with saliva at the taste – it’s not enough, he needs more. He nuzzles his face against the sofa as if it’s the omega, as if he’s scenting Jisung, claiming him. His nose presses against the wet spot before his tongue darts out, licking at the expanse of the fabric. 

He gasps when his hips instinctively rut forward, chasing the slick hole that doesn’t even exist in his reality. The seam of his shorts presses against his now hard cock, he is aching. The material already soaked with his own pre cum. 

He licks again, laps up at the juices hungrily, like a dog starved.

“Shit, shit, Jisung.” He whispers, his lips pressed against the chair as if it's the omega’s burning skin under his hungry mouth. His hands find a throw cushion, he stuffs it between his thighs and grinds against it as he continues defiling his couch.

He cums like that, releasing into his sleep shorts, breathless, needy, hungry. Jisung’s name whispered under his breath, and his tongue pressed against the remaining wet spot on his sofa.

If he sends Felix a text asking to pass his number on to the omega, well… that is no one’s business.

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Minho wakes the next morning, his back aching from the position on the floor he fell asleep on after coming harder than he has for a long time. His clothes stick to his skin, his shorts more so, though. Minho winces at the sensation before standing from the floor and glancing around the room, as if he isn’t sure how he got there.

He stretches his arms above his head, groaning at the pain that flickers over the expanse of his thighs, when his eyes catch on a scarf that seems to have been dragged in by Doongie.

“Hey boy, pst… where did you get that?” He walks over, lifting the material from the floor, the fabric catching on one of the feline’s claws as he pulls it away.

It isn’t anything that Minho recognises, and it’s definitely not something Felix or Hyunjin would wear either… which could only mean.

“Jisung.” He winces as the name rolls from his tongue.

A deep pain swirls in his stomach. He bends slightly, gripping at his own abdomen as he takes a deep breath; the pain lingers as the smell of the material flows freely into the air.

He cannot, and will not, be affected by this. He slams open the door to his cupboard, grabbing a discarded carrier bag and stuffing the scarf inside, before shoving it into the empty space. The scent fades slightly, and Minho finally feels like he can breathe again.

He can't ignore the unease that claws its way into his chest, though.

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The rest of Minho’s day goes slowly. He showers quickly under a steady stream of cold water, and after sending a text to Felix telling him to come and pick up Jisung’s scarf whenever Hyunjin finally lets go of his neck, he makes a start on cleaning his entire apartment.

The scent of blueberry is still there, faint but persistent, as if every fibre on Minho’s couch is dipped in the omega’s slick; it clings as Minho soaks a sponge in the soapy liquid he has whisked up and leans down to clean the cushion.

His head and his heart seem to be at war. Minho knows he cannot just leave his sofa like this, damp and coated with an omega’s fluids. Not only would it be torture for him every single day when the faint smell wafts into the air of his room, but it’s not very polite of him to make guests sit on that either. The other part of him sulks with the thought of getting rid of the scent, of not smelling it anymore.

Sure, his alpha is partly satisfied from yesterday's antics, but something else burns in his chest, tightens around his throat. 

Jisung hasn’t texted him, and Minho isn’t even sure if Felix would have passed the number on regardless. Felix knows how Minho works; he knows sometimes his pre-rut makes him stupidly reach into his urges and then immediately regret them afterwards. He probably picked up Minho’s text and brushed it off; he didn’t even send a reply back. Minho pretends he doesn’t care, that he doesn’t regret chasing his urges this time, but something blooms painfully in his chest.

As he places the sponge onto the fabric, a deep pain shoots through his abdomen again, causing him to keel over in pain. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, sweat clinging to his skin. He is dripping.

The faint memory of Jisung’s face swirls in his head, the way his dark blue hair flashed brighter when the light hit, the softness of his cheeks, the small mole on one, his broad shoulders and pert chest, the way his throat constricted when he swallowed down the nervousness of even saying the word ‘rut’. God, Minho has never had an omega lingering in his head the way that Jisung is from their mere ten minutes together.

Ten minutes that apparently had the omega so worked up, he slicked all over Minho’s couch. He wonders what it was that had that effect… whether it was Minho’s scent, if Jisung was just as hungry for him as he was for Jisung’s blueberry scent.

Is that why he said he liked coffee? Minho’s scent can be overpowering at times, and he hasn’t ever really found anyone that matches well with him; his caramel undertones often making them too sweet together, and the slight bitterness of coffee being too strong to pair with anything more savoury.

He doesn’t linger on it too long, but somehow he manages to forget to clean the patch from the sofa.

🫐꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷🫐

Hyunjin’s name lights up on his screen as Minho lies in a pile of blankets on his bed, a carefully chosen film plays on the small TV in the corner of the room that he hasn’t been able to focus on anyway.

The gnawing want has not faded, and Minho has tried everything. Blueberry muffins ordered from a twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street – Too chewy. Freshly picked blueberries from the local fruit market – Too sour. Blueberry flavoured lollipops, candy, fizzy drinks, anything to take care of his need.

None of them work. Jisung is sweeter, fuller, as if his slick has been specifically infused with blueberries only found in the deepest parts of the forest, where they grow on the greenest bushes, where they’re kissed by the brightness of the sun and the depths of the moon, where the rain falls in droplets that gather on the round of them and trail down their stems. Maybe he is insane.

“Hello?” He answers, pressing on the speaker button and discarding the phone on the pillow next to his head.

“Hyung.”

“What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin never calls, always one for texting, which Minho thinks is a little ironic when every time Felix calls, he always seems to be shouting his two cents in the background.

“Well, good news… my rut is finished. Bad news, Felix went into heat last night.”

“He what?” Minho whines, that's at least another week of him organising and teaching for their end-of-year performance at the studio.

“He blamed my rut! Can you believe it?”

Minho knows that Hyunjin means well, means to make a joke, but he snaps before he can process it even leaving his mouth – his rut making him over agitated.

It’s not funny , Hyunjin! I’m not doing this performance if I’m being left to do it all. I'm exhausted, you think this is funny?.”

Hyunjin is silent for a second until a faint huff echoes through the phone.

“Dont you darehuff at me.” Minho snarls.

“You’re so grumpy old man. Get laid already.”

“Fuck you!” Minho snaps again, it isn’t on purpose, none of how he is acting is on purpose… he doesnt quite know why. “And you better come and get this damn scarf before i throw it out.”

He cuts off the call without hearing the words that Hyunjin begins to spew out on the other line.

🫐꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷🫐

It’s been four days since Minho met Jisung, and for some reason, he hasn’t felt the same since. His pre-rut seems to be never-ending; the ache in his stomach is persistent now. He feels on edge, uneasy, unrested. Like a tightly pulled thread waiting to snap. Jisung’s faint scent radiating from the hallway cupboard doesn’t help either. 

Lingering.

Dragging Minho into a headspace he has never been in. His thoughts on a constant loop of Jisung Jisung Jisung.

He doesn’t even fucking know Jisung.

He could already be mated, maybe that's why he was in a rush, maybe he slicked up at the thought of his alpha scenting him when he got home. Maybe Jisung’s alpha is over possessive, and knots his omega as soon as he gets home smelling like another alpha’s scent.

Still, he finds himself lingering a little too long next to the cupboard in the hall; he hasn’t touched it… not yet, at least, but the ache is there. Persistent. As if the omega is crying out directly to his alpha, begging to be knotted.

The nauseous feeling bubbles in Minho’s throat, he swallows it down. He throws off his blankets and pads down the hall. When he reaches the cupboard, his fist immediately grabs the handle, tugging open the wooden doors and reaching inside for the carrier bag.

Blueberry fills all of his senses; he drags his finger over the material delicately. It’s been so fucking long since he has felt the breath of another on his skin, touched someone, felt their quivering under his fingertips.

He races to the front room, lying back on the couch and clinging to the fabric of the scarf, his cock already hanging heavy between his legs, throbbing, he needs this.

He needs the omega.

He bundles the fabric in his hand, balling it up and pushing it into his nose, smothering himself with the silk. The scent is so strong since the scarf was wrapped around Jisung’s neck, as much as he wants to not remember. He supposes he wears one to further block his scent, and not so a needy alpha can use it to fuck his fist to.

Minho’s palm is dry when he finally curls it around himself; he hisses at the friction on his skin. He dips a thumb into the tip, gathering the pearly fluid that gathers there, and he uses it to slide his fist back down the length.

His breathing is laboured, struggling to breathe as he inhales deeply into the clutch of the scarf.

He’s already so fucking close, four days. Four whole days of smelling an omega in his space, four days of torture every time he walks down the hall. His stomach is sore from suppressing the urges, his skin is burning now, sweat clinging to his head.

*knock knock*

Minho startles at the sound of his door; he isn't expecting any visitors. 

Felix is in heat, Hyunjin won’t leave him… or maybe he would, just to fetch the scarf back. That's the last thing he said to him after all, three days ago.

But Hyunjin would usually also just walk straight in, both he and his omega having a key in case of visits so Minho can laze on the couch instead of getting up to answer the door. He’s a brat like that.

The door knocks again just after. 

Minho tucks his cock back into his waistband, pushing it up against his stomach with the elastic. He can’t shout for whoever it is to just ‘come in,’ not after last time anyway.

Lest a stranger stroll in and slick up his couch again.

Or even worse, Jisung’s alpha boyfriend has paid him a visit, and he has to rock his shit.

Still, Minho is confident enough that whoever he is greeted by, he can deal with. Especially when his whole body and senses are heightened. When he feels like he has the strength of twelve men, the stamina of a stallion.

He walks over to the door, reaching for the handle. But before he can unlock it for his unwelcome visitor, a tensing in his stomach causes him to fall to the floor. His temperature is soaring, his skin is faint with the sheen of sweat, his hand is still damp from pre cum, and he groans deep in his chest from the pain.

“Who is it!” He growls through the wood.

🫐꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷🫐

Opening the door is the worst mistake Minho thinks he may have ever made. He isn’t sure what he did in a past life to be punished the way he is being.

He can no longer deal with whoever it is, fake confidence can not help him this time, because there in the doorway stands Han Jisung.

“Hi, M-Minho hyung.”

Minho gulps, his alpha crawling up his throat and threatening his composure.

“Why are you here?” His mouth hangs open.

Jisung is beautiful. Blue curls twirl around the edge of his ears and lightly graze his eyelashes when he looks upwards, his cheeks are pink with blush, and he looks flushed. The zip-up jacket he’s wearing is drowning him, but Minho can only imagine what he looks like underneath. His hands drown into the sleeves as he pulls them down and tugs at them, as if he knows he isn’t meant to be here, standing at Minho’s door.

“C-can I come in?” he stutters.

Minho needs to say no, needs to tell him to turn around and walk away right now. He would hate to see him go, but he would love to watch him leave, he wonders if he was to turn around right now would he be wet with slick? Would the fabric of his jeans be darker around the curves of his ass? 

“I don’t think that’s a good id-”

Before he can finish the sentence, Jisung pushes himself into the doorway, closing the door behind himself, his back still facing away from Minho’s line of sight. The proximity, the closed door blocking any outside smells, the only thing Minho can smell is him. Blueberry, freshly baked pastries and sugar, and the faintest undertone of something he can't quite pinpoint.

“I came for my scarf.” he points to the silk still bundled up and placed on the couch cushion haphazardly.

Minho winces.

“Why is it, on the sofa?” Jisung’s eyebrows pinch together.

Minho wants to say something, anything. Scared though, that his inner urges will get the best of him, he forces himself to stand as far away as he can before he responds.

“So Hyunjin sent you?” He can feel a growl bubbling up at the thought of Jisung even listening to another alpha. His scent spikes something bitter in the air, the harsh scent of burnt coffee.

“Felix, actually.”

Minho keels over again, the temperature of his body near boiling its point, dropping to his knees onto the kitchen tiles. Shit.

Jisung runs over before Minho has a chance to stop him.

“Hyung? Are you ok?”

“Jisung. You need to leave.” Every single urge is surfacing now, the need to pounce, to pin the pretty omega down onto the hard kitchen tiles and breed him.

“Alph-” Jisung clears his throat. “Minho, I’m not leaving. What's wrong, do you need me to call Felix?”

An intense waft of burnt sugar surges over Minho, as if the mere thought of Minho needing another omega doesn’t sit well with Jisung.

“No.”

“Then what do you need?”

“I need you to leave!!” he snaps. He isn't meaning to be as harsh as he is right now, but for Jisung’s own safety, he needs to step away. “I’m in rut.”

Jisung’s eyes look almost comical, wide and dark. Minho thinks that's it, that he’s finally understood, like he finally is going to get up and walk away.

But then…

Jisung’s hands are soft, placed delicately onto the bend of Minho’s wrist. His grip just tight enough to pull Minho’s gaze from the small crack in a single kitchen tile to look him in the eye. The contact from Jisung’s skin is burning, like electricity zapping up Minho’s spine.

“Minho, A-alpha, what do you need?” Blueberries spike something fresh in the air surrounding them, Minho sniffs at it and his mouth salivates.

Alpha? Jisung just called him alpha; this time, he didn’t stop himself.

“I need - “ Minho pauses. He looks up at Jisung, then back down to where their skin is still touching. You?

“Hyung, let me help.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement. Jisung’s fingers grow tighter on Minho’s wrist, causing indentations in the flesh from his fingertips. 

“Jisung.”

“Alpha. I want to help, please. Let me.”

Minho could let him, in theory.His ruts are never usually this painful, never usually this unsettling. He can normally do it alone; he can satisfy his urges and lock himself in a room for the few days it takes him to feel like himself again. But Jisung is right here, Jisung… his omega.

“Jisung, my pretty omega.” His hand flies to the back of Jisung’s neck, gripping at the base of his curls.

Jisung’s eyes are wide, his mouth parted, “Alpha.”

It’s all he needs. In a short second, his lips find Jisung’s, pressing firmly into the soft cushion of his mouth. The clash of their bodies sends heat licking up his spine, the sweet taste of the omega’s mouth, pliant, open, and wet. Minho needs more.

He pulls back for a second, their faces only inches away. “Jisung, I don't usually do this.”

“N-neither do I.” Jisung mutters.

“I dont know why I feel like this, shit Jisung, I need you.”

“Please.” Jisung swallows, and Minho watches the bob of his throat. 

Every nerve ending is on fire, the need to bite, to claim, to knot. He leans in again, capturing the omega’s bottom lip between two teeth, their breaths mingling between the millimetres of space.

“We don’t even know each other,” Minho pants against Jisung’s mouth.

“I’m Jisung. I’m twenty-five, I went to college in Seoul. I work as a producer part-time, and the rest of the time i spend with my friends, Felix being one of them.” He kisses Minho in between every few sentences. “I love coffee, I don’t have a mate, i’m single, and have been for a while, actually. No one can quite handle me.”

Minho scoffs at that. Pulling back to look into Jisung’s eyes, and raises a brow in question. “No one can handle you? That’s a shame, with a pretty body like yours, alphas should be doing a better job, cherishing you.”

It doesn’t sound like him, the words coming out of his mouth, Felix would slap him, call him a knothead.

“Well,” Jisung gulps. “The thing is, I erm…get too wet..”

The words hang heavy between them, as if they are processing in Minho’s head.

“Too wet?”

Jisung nods. “My slick, I… I overproduce slick.”

Fuck, Minho is in trouble.

“All of the other alpha’s I’ve been with they… they couldn’t y’know, they hated it, it was too messy, too slippery, too much.” Jisung almost looks sad, defeated, but his eyes are still locked onto Minho’s gaze, never wavering.

Minho’s alpha pounces.

He drags Jisung to his feet by his arms, before lifting him, one hand around his back and the other tucked into the crease behind his knees.

"No other alphas deserve you." He whispers into Jisung's ear.

"No others, but y-you?" Jisung stutters.

Every single fibre of Minho is electric. Jisung’s body is so small beneath his clothes, and the thought of seeing his omega, spread open and panting, clouds his vision as he walks them to the bedroom.

The wet patch on Jisung’s jeans seeps through the fabric, coating Minho’s forearm as he walks towards the bedroom. The air is filled with the blueberry scent mixed with Minho's sweet caramel coffee. Like a perfect bakery, on a cool autumn day, orange and red leaves falling around it and settling onto the mist-soaked ground.

When they reach the door, Minho kicks it open, ushering out his cats with a haphazard wave of his foot. He slams the door closed behind them and places Jisung onto the bed before he backs away.

Jisung panics. 

“W-where are you going.”

Minho paces.

“J-just need a second. I'll be right back.”

🫐꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷🫐

The bathroom mirror is unforgiving. Minho stands with his hands running over his own hair, the strands falling into his eyes. His whole face is burning red, the fire in his belly is so strong that it might coat the room in molten lava, his eyes look dark, fierce, and he doesn’t look like himself.

“It’s fine, you’re fine.”

He whispers to himself as he paces the bathroom floor, back and forth, his inner voice chanting through his bones like there’s a small devil on his shoulder.

Knot. Ruin. Breed. Mate.

He’s never had the thoughts he’s having now, even with other partners. Not this bad, not ever. This is all Jisung.

He takes a deep breath, exhales as he opens the door.

“A-are you—” His voice stops. Like all the breath has been knocked out of his lungs.

“Alpha, please.”

Jisung is lying on his bed, surrounded by various shirts, hoodies, and blankets. His scent is so strong in the air, Minho doesn’t think before he pounces forward, his knees bracketing Jisung’s hips.

“Do you like it? I scented them,” Jisung mumbles quietly.

“Fuck, I love it, god you smell so fucking good, so much better than my couch.”

“Your couch?”

“Shit. Jisung,you leaked everywhere, all over it, I couldnt help myself -  I licked it clean, every single fucking drop, needed you so bad.” Minho presses firm kisses into the nape of the omega’s neck, down the open material of his jacket, ghosting over his collarbones as he speaks the words into his skin.

“Shit,” Jisung hisses, his hips bucking up towards Minho’s. “Y-you smell so good too, couldn’t ah couldn't stop thinking about you, was so wet for you alpha.”

Minho growls as his hands find the hem of Jisung’s shirt, tugging at it quickly and pulling it off his arms. A high-pitched whine escapes the omega’s parted lips.

He takes in the small curve of Jisung’s waist, the black ink contrasting against his honey skin, the red blush cascading down his neck and over his chest, his nipples so firm and ready for Minho to press his tongue against.

“Fuck. You’re so precious.”

His lips find the curve of Jisung’s collarbone, pressing his needy mouth into the flesh there, leaving forceful kisses along the expanse of his skin. Jisung arches beneath him, back curling from the mattress and into the alpha’s mouth further.

Minho is relentless with his hands, gripping tight onto the omega’s thighs as his mouth travels south.

“You smell divine,” He mutters into the protrusion of Jisung’s hip bone.

“W-wait!” Jisung screeches.

Minho pauses, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

“Let me?” Jisung whispers, his hands finding the waistband of Minho’s sweatpants.

The sheets below Jisung are a dark grey, stark contrast to the rest of the light grey bedspread. Jisung was not lying when he said he overproduces slick, but all Minho wants to do is taste, to feel the flavour burst on his tongue, to satiate the need coiling in his gut.

“Please, Alpha.”

Minho groans, removing his hands from Jisung and quickly lying on his back next to the omega. Jisung brings himself to his knees, placing himself between his legs.

The room spikes with the scent of caramel as Minho pulls down his own sweats impatiently, freeing himself of any confines as his cock springs free, heavy, red and leaking against his lower abdomen.

“SHIT!” Jisung gasps. “Hyung, y-you’re huge.”

Minho feigns nonchalance, his inner pride beaming.

He doesn’t manage to speak, just a slight exhale as Jisung’s hands find his cock, encasing it in the tightness of his palm. He strokes it once, lazily, as if toying with the alpha.

“Don’t play with me, omega,” Minho growls, low in his throat.

Jisung swallows, speeds up his rhythm and tightens his fist. The heat inside of Minho is sizzling hot, and Jisung’s hands are larger than Minho’s, especially for an omega with his small stature. Still, his hand barely fits around his girth. 

Minho tips his head back as pleasure courses through his body, hissing at the sensitivity. The drag is dry even with the pre-cum smeared over his length; it isn't enough. He needs more.

Jisung must read his face well, because before Minho has time to register, the omega has dipped his own hand into the back of his own trousers, coating his hand in slick. The shiny coating glistens in the light when he removes his hand, and a fresh, overpowering smell of blueberry engulfs Minho as Jisung wraps it back around his length

The warmth, the wetness, the grip. Minho’s whole body shudders. It takes approximately eight pumps of Jisung’s fist until he comes in bursts, coating the omega’s palm, his release mixing with Jisung's slick. The air fills with something sweet, sickly. Jisung seems to be basking in the scent.

Minho huffs as the waves of his orgasm crash over him, chest rising and falling as his breathing slows, he opens his eyes and stares at Jisung with a hunger burning through his chest.

Mate

Breed

Claim

Knot

The four words repeat on a loop in his head, Jisung sits so pretty, perched on his knees between Minho’s legs, he watches as Jisung studies his own fingers, runs them through the cum pooled on Minho’s stomach and brings them to his mouth.

His lips close tightly around the digits, his cheeks welling in from the force of his sucking, tasting himself and Minho.

Fuck

Minho can’t think, doesn’t think, before he sits up, slamming Jisung’s back down onto the bed and looming over the top of him. 

“You want to tease me?”

Jisung shakes his head frantically. “N-no, alpha just wanted to taste you.”

Minho’s eyes scan down Jisung's frame, the expanse of his chest, the small blotches of red that litter his skin from Minho’s lips pressing into him so firmly a few minutes prior, Minho wants to bite him, to leave every inch of his flesh bruised and claimed.

“Well, now it's my turn.”

Minho is quick with his hands, finding the waistband of Jisung’s sweats and tugging them off his legs, the omega gasps beneath him, his scent spiking.

The wet patch forms against Minho’s sheets again, darkening them. Jisung’s thighs are coated in his own slick. Minho’s hands find the back of them as he caresses up the length of his legs, his nails dragging over the plush of his thighs.

He finally reaches the material of Jisung’s underwear, sticky, wet and coated in the omega’s desire.

Minho ducks his head, kisses the inside of Jisung’s thigh, the blueberry scent clinging to his lungs as he grows just inches away from where his omega is gushing into his own boxers.

“God, you smell so fucking sweet, Sungie.”

“P-please.”

The stuttered breath escaping Jisung’s mouth only further twists Minho’s gut, he reaches out and pushes the omega’s thighs up to his chest, licking a thick strip up the expanse of his underwear.

Minho hums as the taste finally hits his tongue through the wet fabric. He pulls back, locks eyes with Jisung as he nuzzles against him once more, his tongue pushing into the material and pulling heavy breaths from the omega.

“God!” Minho growls.

His two hands find the round of Jisung’s ass, he grips each cheek tight, pulling them apart and nosing against his hole, tongue still lapping at the wetness of his boxers. His nails dig into the fabric, finally, digging into the already weak and sopping wet stitching and ripping it open.

The cool air startles Jisung as it hits his wet hole. Minho’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip as he takes in the view beneath him.

Jisung is like a fucking waterfall, his slick clings to the inside of his thighs, his hole glistening, his cheeks wet with arousal. The need in Minho’s chest escapes as he pushes his fingers against the omega’s heat.

“Want it?”

Jisung gasps. “Y-yes, please, alpha.”

“Want me to knot you, baby? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk home, hm?”

“Y-yes, fuck.”

Minho’s two fingers push into the tight hole, easily sliding in from the added slick. He holds them still.

“So fucking hungry for me hm, look at the mess you made.”

Jisung winces as he covers his own eyes, his cheeks a shade of red. Minho’s free hand finds his wrist, pulling the cover from his face.

“Don’t hide, my pretty omega.”

“S’embarrasing!” Jisung frowns, an unease settling on his face.

Minho’s scent spikes with burnt coffee as he takes in the expression; his omega is upset, shy, unsettled.

“Jisung. Baby, look at me.”

Jisung looks up, eyes catching with Minho’s own.

“I love it, you’re so fucking wet for me baby, cant wait to feel my knot swell inside of you.”

Jisung blinks once. “Need it, alpha.”

Minho pulls his fingers out, forces them back in quickly, fucking Jisung with his digits, pulling moans from the omega, slick gathers quickly around Minho’s fingers, drips down his palm and runs down the expanse of his forearm.

It's so much, but never too much.

Minho wants to drink him down, every last drop, every gush, every millilitre. He wants it all.

He ducks his head, his tongue sliding against his own fingers, pushing into Jisung’s hole alongside the pair, lapping at the omega’s juices as he fucks him open.

“Shit, ah fuck!” The omega gasps as Minho’s fingers stretch him open.

The alpha watches him with hungry eyes from between his legs as he laps at his hole, crooking his fingers up to press against his sensitive bundle of nerves. Jisung’s back arches as he opens his legs wider, allowing Minho’s fingers to push in deeper against him.

“Shit, shit alpha. Gonna make me, AH.”

Minho’s fingers slide out, his tongue replacing them. He fucks the omega steadily with the warm muscle, slick gushes around it, coating Minho’s chin.

The sweetness drives Minho crazy as he laps at the omega’s entrance, his own cock so hard, as his hips grind against the wet sheets below him.

He pulls back for a moment, just to catch his breath before diving back in again. His tongue gliding against Jisung’s taint, then dipping into his hole over and over.

“Mmm.” He hums against his new favourite place.

Minho’s hips stutter as he cums onto the sheets below, his cock pulsating as his release mixes with the already soaked fabric.

“Did you just?” Jisung props himself up on his elbows.

“Fuck, you taste so good, couldn’t help it. My pretty omega.” Minho groans against Jisung’s wet skin.

“God, you're insane,” Jisung pants.

Another gush of slick flows out of him in steady drops. Minho watches as it drips out and glides down the curve of his ass. He presses his lips against it, sucking at the juices as the flow of Jisung’s slick releases into his mouth.

“Alpha! Fuck!” Jisung moans.

Minho’s mouth is relentless, sucking at the flow of Jisung’s slick, letting it coat the inside of his mouth, then settling on his tongue when he’s filled his mouth. He pulls back, much to the disappointment of his omega, but Minho has other plans.

He holds Jisung’s slick in his mouth as his hands find Jisung’s cock, which rests hard and leaking against his stomach, untouched, so red and aching for any attention, any feeling. Minho wraps a fist around it, gripping it tight as he begins to work the length. 

Jisung watches him with a dazed expression as Minho’s small hand works at him steadily, edging Jisung closer and closer to his own release.

And then…

Minho’s lips press against the tip of the omega's cock, tight and pouted as he pushes the head inside and slides his mouth the whole way down the length, still filled with Jisung’s slick.

Jisung’s own slick coats his cock as Minho bobs his head, taking the length into his throat. He parts his lips slowly as he lets the slick slide out of his mouth around Jisung’s girth. Gathering in a small pool around his hips.

He sucks again, pulling off with a small pop of his lips. Jisung’s orgasm hits like a wave, his hands gripping the alpha's hair as he cums over his own stomach. His hips bucking up into nothing, slick squirting from his hole.

“Shit, shit… a-ah! Alpha!”

Minho crawls up over his body, pinning the omega's head between his forearms, his lips finding Jisung’s once more.

He litters kisses along the expanse of his jaw, ghosting his lips over his scent gland, every voice in his head screaming at him to mate. Claim.

He can’t, he knows he cant.

“Bite me. P-please.” Jisung’s voice is quiet, shaky.

Minho knows he can't, knows they haven't spoken about that, he doesn't know Jisung. The omega doesn’t know him.

The room is thick with the scent of fresh caramel coffee and blueberry muffin. It surrounds them both, the smell so strong it feels like they're standing in a fresh bakery.

Minho continues kissing down his body, avoiding his neck as the omega’s hands find the curve of his ass, gripping him and pulling Minho’s cock closer to his own.

His restraint fades fast as he lifts himself up, clambers on his knees to rub his cock along Jisung’s entrance, small pleas whispered into the air surrounding them, Minho drinks them in just like how he drank in Jisung’s slick.

He rolls his hips against Jisung’s stretched hole, smothering his length in the omega’s juices, his own cock swelling, pulsating.

He needs to be buried inside of the omega right now.

It doesn't take long; he wraps a hand around his own length, pumping himself once, twice, the glide from the slick gathered along it makes Minho moan in pleasure, before he lines himself up.

“Alpha, n-need you.”

“My omega.” Minho’s voice doesn't even sound like his own; it's low, scratchy and rough. 

He whispers it again as he bucks his hips forward, Jisung sucking him in as if his body was carefully crafted to take Minho..

“My — shit, my omega.”

Minho’s hips meet the curve of Jisung’s ass, the heat and slick of his hole engulfing Minho’s cock as he pushes his hips forward and stuffs the omega full.

“Oh my god! You’re so fucking – AH.”

A broken cry rings through the room as Minho thrusts hard, the tip of his cock kissing Jisung’s sweet spot, breaking off his words.

Minho stares down at where the omega takes him in, pulling him further and further inside, forcing him to slide out just slightly, then grind back inwards again. The pleasure coils quickly in Minho’s stomach.

Jisung’s slick is everywhere; it coats Minho’s hips and dribbles down his balls, spreads over the expanse of his thighs, drips onto the sheets below them. Minho runs the pads of two fingers through the wetness and brings his hand to his own mouth, darting out his tongue and running the digits along the flat of it, before sucking them clean.

“Holy shit. You’re insane.” Jisung’s eyes are wide as he stares up at the alpha, his own cock painfully hard again where it rests against his stomach.

Slick gushes out around the thick of Minho’s cock as the omega lies beneath him. His back arching as the alpha places two hands on his thighs and lifts them onto his shoulders, picking up his pace and grinding his hips against Jisung’s.

“Shit, Jisung, you’re so fucking wet.”

“God. I’m sorry!” The omega attempts to cover his face again, but Minho doesn’t let him.

“Why are you sorry? Fuck, Jisungie, you feel insane.”

“S’just so much.”

Minho slows, letting Jisung’s legs open and press to each side of his hips as he falls forward and plants each hand on either side of the omega’s head. From here, Jisung’s scent is so strong, it swims into Minho’s nostrils, coats his tongue, fills his lungs. Makes him dizzy.

“Look at me.”

Jisung’s eyes find the alpha’s.

“You’re so fucking pretty, all of your slick, getting me so fucking messy, so fucking wet. You’re perfect, pretty boy.”

“M-Minho hyung,” Jisung moans.

“Say it.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “S-say what?”

“Say you look so pretty, say you love making a mess for me. I want to hear you say it.” Minho kisses the omega’s jaw.

“B-but –”

Minho thrusts his hips hard once, and a choked ah is punched out of Jisung’s chest. “Say it.” He demands.

“I-” Jisung stutters. “I look so pretty, making a mess for you.”

“Like you mean it,” Minho growls, his thrusts deep and achingly slow.

“P-please alpha, faster. Need more.”

Minho smirks, his nose ghosting over the omega’s scent gland. “Do as I ask, and I’ll give you more.”

“I look so pretty, so fucking pretty all wet for you. L-love making a mess for you. Please.”

Minho lifts up, his mouth inches away from Jisung’s and smiles something wicked, before quickening his pace slightly. The new speed punching out small gasps from the omega.

“Again.” He groans.

“Shit — I’m so fucking pretty, taking your cock so well, alpha. Want you to knot me. Please, please give me all of you.” Jisung pants.

“You want all of me?” Minho grips Jisung’s jaw with his thumb and index finger.

The omega nods beneath him. “W-want you to scent me.”

Minho doesn’t hold back; his head ducks quickly, nuzzling against the omega’s neck. Jisung tilts his head to the side, giving more space for him to run his lips over the expanse of sensitive flesh. From here, Jisung’s taste is so much sweeter. Minho fights the urge to bite down as he twists his head, pushing his own scent gland against Jisung’s and rubbing them together, scenting his omega, claiming him as much as he can.

The room smells like blueberry muffins, caramel coffee, and every freshly baked sweet good Minho could ever devour in his lifetime. His hips move of their own accord, slamming against Jisung as he chases his release now.

“Ah, oh my god.” The omega’s moans fill the room.

Minho lifts himself up, sits back on his knees as he grips Jisung’s waist with one hand, the other glides through a fresh release of slick, he brings his free hand to Jisung’s nipple, teasing the sensitive nub with his wet digits, drawing high-pitched whines from the omega.

Slick pools out of him in bursts; the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin is obscene. Minho tries his hardest to continue his pace, but the glide forces him to slip out.

He hisses as he lines himself up again, pushes back inside and tries to resume the pace again; he’s so fucking close. His whole body on fire, the urge to knot the omega is so strong, it burns through his body like a need. An endless and intense desire.

He watches as Jisung’s face contorts, his mouth parted, his top teeth digging into the plush of his bottom lip, his back arching, his skin red. Minho takes it all in, every curve and definition of the man beneath him. It only brings him closer.

He looks down at where his cock is buried so deep inside of the omega’s heat, watching Jisung’s skin glisten from the moisture. His knot starts swelling; he’s so dangerously close.

“Please, n-need your knot alpha.”

Jisung’s words ring through his head, the pleasure courses through his veins, his cock throbs as he teeters on the edge.

And then, he slips out again.

Jisung whines at the loss, trying to catch his breath as Minho takes himself in his own hand again, lines himself up and thrusts back inside.

He picks up his pace again, chasing his release, needing it. But the quicker he gets, the more difficult it seems to be for him to stay inside; everything is so slippery, he needs to knot Jisung. His omega.

“I-its too wet?” Jisung sounds worried.

Minho stares down at him as he slows down, his hips grinding achingly slowly against the omega’s walls.

“Jisung.” He growls, he can smell Jisung’s scent filling the room, something burnt and sugary.

“I-i’m sorry, i-”

“Wait. Dont move.” Minho breaks the omega’s sentence. His eyes scan the room before finally landing upon his bedside table.

Minho leans over as he reaches for the drawer, pulling it open and forcing his hand inside. He feels around for a minute before finally finding what he needs. He pulls it out and repositions himself between Jisung’s legs.

“Is that a plug?” Jisung props himself up on his elbows.

“Lets see if this helps, shall we?” Minho smirks. Holding the plug against Jisung’s skin, the cool nub gliding over the slick coating his thighs, gathering it and glistening when the faint light shines off it.

Jisung writhes beneath his hold, holding his legs out wider. “P-please.”

Their eyes stay locked onto the space between Jisung’s thighs as Minho pushes the tip of his cock, along with the shiny silver nub of the plug, against his slick entrance.

“Shit, Alpha.”

“Shh baby, I've got you.”

The view makes Minho delirious, watching as Jisung’s hole stretches open to take both the plug and the length of his cock. The cold press of metal against his skin serves as a welcome sensation as Minho pushes himself all the way back inside.

He presses his hand to the flared base as he picks up his pace again, the slick sounds filling the room once more. Jisung’s scent spikes with a velvety scent of white chocolate. Minho’s knot swells, his head falling back as he presses over and over into the omega.

On every inward thrust he feels the clench of Jisung tightening around him, the cold scrape of metal against his own cock mixed with the warmth of the omega’s fluttering hole.

Jisung loses all coherency, his only words being, “Alpha, Alpha, Please!”

Sweat drips down Minho’s forehead as he draws closer and closer to his release, the urgency growing. He leans down over Jisung again as his knot begins to swell. His lips finding the omega’s neck once more, he pushes his parted lips to his scent gland, his restraint clinging for dear life.

“Bite me.”

The words make Minho pause, and he lifts his head to stare at Jisung.

“Please, Alpha. I want you to bite me, make me yours.”

Minho groans as his knot swells further, he tugs at the base of the plug, pulling it out of Jisung’s entrance and burying himself impossibly deep as his climax crawls through his skin..

“Don’t.” He growls. “I’m so fucking close, Jisungie.”

“P-please, fill me. Breed me, need your knot alpha.”

Minho hisses as fire licks up his spine, his knot finally pushing into the omega’s wet hole as he reaches his climax, locking them in place, Jisung’s words pushing him over the edge. 

“Fuck, pretty omega wants to be filled with my pups, hm?”

His release doesn’t stop, spurt after spurt of hot white ropes filling the omega, coating his walls as Minho’s body shudders.

“F-Fuck! Stretching me so fucking good — I’m gonna fuck. — Gonna cum.” 

Jisung clenches around Minho’s length as his own orgasm hits, his release painting his stomach as he’s knotted by the alpha.

Minho’s teeth are dangerously close to Jisung’s scent gland, his scent so fucking strong, drawing Minho in as his body convulses. He tries to ignore the voice inside his head.

Mate. Bite. Claim.

“Do it.” Jisung’s voice is louder than all of Minho’s inner urges.

“Are you sure?” Minho speaks into the soft skin of the omega’s jaw.

“So fucking sure, need to be yours. Never felt so safe, so wanted, so p-pretty.”

Minho can’t ignore the possessiveness that fills his chest, the thought of the omega, his omega not feeling good enough, experiencing anyone who couldn’t handle him, couldn’t please him. It’s too much. The want in his heart is unlike anything he has ever felt before.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t spend his ruts with people. Let alone someone he doesn’t even know.

His teeth graze up the expanse of Jisung’s neck as he tilts his head, giving Minho better access. Putting himself on full display, presenting his neck, still filled with the alpha’s knot.

“Please.”

He doesn’t have to beg.

Minho bites down hard, closes his lips around Jisung’s flesh as he sucks, the iron tang of blood fills his tongue, mixing with the sweet taste of blueberry, the undertones of white creamy chocolate. Every one of Minho’s five senses heightens instinctively, warmth filling his system.

He pulls off after a few seconds, staring down at the red mark plastered on the side of Jisung’s neck.

“My omega,” he growls, running a finger over the fresh mark, the fresh mating mark.

“Y-yours.” Jisung breathes out. His chest rises and falls against Minho’s.

Minho’s hands find the flesh of Jisung’s torso, he spins them around, his knot still snug inside of Jisung’s heat as he sits Jisung on top of his lap, his knot locking them in place.

“Your turn.”

The omega stares at him in confusion. “What?”

“I want you to bite me back, don't want to be anyone else's. Ever.” 

“Minho I-” Jisung swallows. He pushes his hips against Minho’s knot once before leaning down and nuzzling his nose softly against the line of Minho’s jaw. When he finally reaches Minho’s scent gland, he pauses. “You smell so sweet,” he whispers, before his teeth find the outline of Minho’s flesh. He bites down hard, drawing a hiss out of Minho.

Every fibre of Minho’s body lights up, as if one thousand tiny fireflies flew into his chest and lit up his entire being. This is what it feels like, to be mated, to be needed, to be claimed. He doesn’t know Jisung; in fact, he doesn’t know many things. But if one thing is for sure, right here, their scent mingling around them, with Jisung pressed into his body, with his omega’s teeth sinking into his neck. It’s exactly where he needs to be.

Jisung pulls off with a deep exhale, his eyes deep and filled with something Minho doesn’t recognise.

He watches the omega’s face contort as he leans forward and places his forehead against the alpha’s. “Alpha, my alpha.”

“Yours.”

🫐꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷🫐

The past three days have been the easiest three days Minho has ever spent during a rut. No one has ever come close to just how intense his and his omega’s sex has been.

With his sweet tooth well and truly satiated, he steps into the Sugar Button, the small chime of the bell filling his ears as his eyes scan the room for Felix. He’s sat on one of the booths in the corner, with Hyunjin curled next to his side, his arm slung over his omega’s shoulder.

Minho walks towards them and slides himself down into the chair opposite.

He isn’t sure how long he thought it would take, but Hyunjin’s voice is suspiciously quick to sound through the room.

“You look… different.”

Minho takes a sip of the iced coffee Felix has pushed into his personal space.

Then, a gasp. Hyunjin leans forward on the table, grabbing at the collar of Minho’s shirt and tugging it to the side, his eyes locking in on the fresh bruise on his neck.

A growl threatens to escape from Minho’s chest, but he suppresses it.

“Is that a fucking MATING BITE???”

Minho doesn’t speak, just sips his coffee once more. Felix smiles at him as he tugs on the back of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him back into the seat he has left unoccupied.

“So, you and Jisung get along well then?” Felix rests his chin on his hand.

Minho smirks. “You could say that.”

Hyunjin gasps again. “Jisung? Like Han Jisung?”

Minho nods once.

“Call me the matchmaker.” Felix giggles as Hyunjin stares at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, by the way. I didnt mean to send him while you were in rut, poor Jiji.”

“Poor Jiji? Have you seen Minho’s neck!” Hyunjin exclaims.

“My plan wasn’t to mate them Jinnie.”

“It just… happened.” Minho shrugs, stirring the straw in his drink.

“So you’re finally mated?” Hyunjin smirks. “How does it feel?”

“I’m not giving you the satisfaction of answering that.” Minho rolls his eyes.

A cough catches them off guard, and the scent of blueberry flows into Minho’s nose, his omega.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Jisung slides into the booth, pressing himself against Minho’s side.

Minho’s hand curls around the plush of his thigh, pulling his leg closer. Hyunjin’s eyes follow the gesture; he glances at Felix and then back at the pair.

“I’m not ready for this, at all.” He swallows.

“Better get used to it, babe.” Felix tickles under his chin.

Jisung laughs, the sweetest sound to match the sweetest scent.

Minho’s omega.

“Hey JiJi… you smell really sweet today.” Felix tilts his head.

Minho perks up at the words, sniffing the air before pulling Jisung closer to him and gliding his nose over the omega’s neck.

Shit.

He smells divine, tantalising, even sweeter… he isn’t sure how that’s even possible.

“Erm, yeah… about that.” The omega turns to look at Minho with wide eyes.

Minho stares back, watching as Jisung blinks once, twice.

“I think you triggered my pre-heat.” He whispers into the small space between them.

Minho instantly grabs the back of his neck, rubbing himself against the omega, scenting him.

Hyunjin grimaces. “You guys smell so strong, I can’t even smell myself. Get a room.”

Minho turns to him. “We will… Jisung, we’re leaving.”

Jisung shovels the rest of his muffin into his mouth as he stands from the table. Minho lifts him into a bridal carry and beelines for the door.

“Good luck, Sungie!” Felix shouts as they finally leave.