Chapter Text
It takes nearly a month to travel from Jihoon’s village along the outskirts of the kingdom to the castle and, from the way his cousin frets about him during the trip, Jihoon thinks he might be lucky they made it to the castle at all. Of course, if his heat needed to be kept at bay, he would have taken the herbs the castle provided his parents when he was registered as an omega at birth. Heat-suppressing herbs aren’t ideal, but the kingdom requires every omega to spend the cusp of their first heat at the castle, and Jihoon is no exception.
The night before he climbed into the carriage with his cousin, Jihoon’s mother sat on his bed and said even if the king requested him, he did not have to marry the king. He need only bear the king’s company during his heat and birth a child, if he managed to catch, then he could come home and forget the whole affair. Soonyoung would still marry him, so there was nothing to worry about—his mother meant to be reassuring, but Jihoon found nothing comforting about the prospect. Marriage to Soonyoung appeals no more to Jihoon than the king breeding him like a common cow, but he kept the thought to himself. It’s every omega’s highest honor, of course, to be married to an alpha. An omega’s purpose is looking pretty and bearing children, so it doesn’t matter what Jihoon thinks.
He isn’t supposed to have thoughts at all.
Jihoon, of course, has quite a few thoughts about that particular aspect of society. He’s long since learned, however, to simply be quiet and keep his more inflammatory ideas to himself. The other omegas think him simple, from the way Jihoon rarely responds to them beyond blinking and staring blankly, and Jihoon prefers it that way. It means they leave him alone.
Truly, though, Jihoon’s certain there’s nothing to worry about. He will never be chosen by the king, who has not chosen an omega in Jihoon’s lifetime, despite dozens of omegas spending their heats at the castle every month. Other omegas are prettier than Jihoon, who the village alphas never look twice at. The alphas dislike his scent and his build—the other omegas in Jihoon’s village say his slight frame is unfit to carry—and everyone finds him odd. When the village omegas talk to Jihoon, it’s to reiterate that the alphas of the village would never choose him.
Soonyoung is, Jihoon thinks, a special circumstance, and he’s quite odd among alphas to begin with. All alphas of the neighboring nomad tribes are odd to Jihoon’s sensibilities, but that’s a matter of cultural differences. There shouldn’t be cultural differences between Jihoon and the king—not ones like Soonyoung looking at Jihoon where others don’t. As an alpha who quite literally has his pick of any omega in the kingdom, the king has no reason to choose omegas of low stock who are unlikely to survive childbirth.
Despite the long journey and his cousin’s fretting, Jihoon remains unbothered by the whole affair and expects to spend several days locked into one of the secluded heat rooms of the castle’s East Wing riding out his first heat. He arrives exactly on the 19th anniversary of his birth, ushered into the baths and scrubbed down by beta attendants before lining up in a room with six other omegas. Jihoon keeps to the posture he’s been taught—head bowed and hands folded behind his back—but can’t help sneaking peeks of the other omegas.
It’s his first time being farther than the next village, and each omega wears the traditional white shift of first heat, but they all look so different. Jihoon is by far the smallest and palest of them, furthering his assumption he won’t be chosen. Besides, he’s heard rumors that the king is old and unfit to see an omega through their heat, so Jihoon thinks it’s unlikely anyone will be chosen for the king’s satisfaction.
When the king walks in, Jihoon waits. He’s the last of the lined up omegas, and the king briefly scents each omega before him. Their scents are all heavy with the promise of heat, ripe fruit ready to be picked and sweet with anticipation, but the king only wishes them well and dismisses them. It’s a few minutes’ work, and then the king lifts Jihoon’s head. Their eyes meet, and Jihoon thinks he’s not old at all. Did the old king die recently? Jihoon couldn’t know—he’s been traveling, and news takes at least a month to make it to Jihoon’s village. Who the king is hardly matters to Jihoon—living so far from the castle means who’s taking their crops doesn’t overly affect Jihoon’s life. All kings are alike—or so the elders say.
It’s the first time Jihoon’s been close to an alpha, though. His village is more traditional, omegas separated from alphas after they’re grown enough to lose the sweet, watery scent of childhood, and Soonyoung’s always kept a respectful distance. He also wears scent-dampening paste against his neck when he comes to visit Jihoon in the market, although Jihoon knows he smells like cypress and citrus because Soonyoung said so himself.
The king smells of rich cedarwood overlaid with chamomile and lavender. It’s a relaxing scent, and Jihoon finds himself swaying closer unconsciously. He’s used to omegas who are floral-forward and irritating to his sensitive nose.
“Careful, omega.” Large hands settle on his shoulders, steadying him, and Jihoon blinks up at the king. “May I scent you?”
Head foggy with the cusp of his heat, Jihoon only tilts his head to the side and bares his neck. Hands moving from Jihoon’s shoulders to his waist, the king bends to press his nose to Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon’s own jasmine and rose scent blooms in response, underlaid with the musk of sandalwood that promises his fertility. Time stretches, Jihoon’s nerves worsening, and then the king straightens.
“Move this one to my chambers,” the king says. His fingers curve around Jihoon’s jaw, tilting his head up again. Jihoon sees a glint of silver in the king’s eyes, blown wide with something unknown but wild, and makes a confused noise. “Give him whatever he wants to nest.”
For a moment, the king stares, lips slightly parted, and Jihoon feels panicked. Like the rabbits he’s hunted, Jihoon is small and afraid of something larger that wishes to devour him. Then Jihoon blinks, and the spell breaks. Hand falling away, the king leaves, and Jihoon’s ushered through the castle to the most ornate room he’s ever seen. It feels larger than his entire village, the bed in the center of the room as big as Jihoon’s whole cottage. Faced with it, Jihoon can only think that his oncoming heat must have made him delirious.
It isn’t possible for the king to have chosen him. Jihoon swallows, trying to find his voice in the cavernous room as beta attendants flit in and out carrying nesting supplies.
“Does…” Jihoon clears his throat, addressing the attendant setting down a stack of pillows as tall as Jihoon himself. “Does the king mean to spend my heat with me?”
“Yes, my lord.” The servant smiles, excited by this turn of events. Jihoon can’t say the same. “It’s a great honor to be chosen. Did you want anything particular for your nest or heat? His majesty said if we don’t have it, he’ll send someone to find it at market.”
Jihoon wants his mother, but that seems childish and impossible besides. He tries to say so, but instead just shakes his head. The attendant leaves him be, and Jihoon’s left alone with only his swimming thoughts and more nesting materials than he’s ever seen in his life. He’s always been a stress nester. Back in the village, everyone traded Jihoon their unwanted blankets and worn out clothing for the stunning quilts he makes his money from. Jihoon packed several of his more intricate quilts for his heat nest, and finding a servant delivered his chest of them to the room settles something in his chest. The situation might unsettle Jihoon, but his quilts are safe.
They aren’t appropriate for a nest’s base, however. Jihoon makes colorful and thin quilts designed to cover plainer furs and pillows to make nests look more inviting. Sorting through the various materials servants brought settles something in Jihoon, and soon he’s deep in the process of building his nest. Nests are fueled by an omega’s instinct to be protected and safe, but not every omega feels stress equally. Jihoon’s always been quite sensitive to stress and a builder of elaborate nests to combat his instincts. He prefers covered nests, so Jihoon searches for a canopy to hang over the bed’s frame.
As he does, Jihoon’s pleased to find the nesting materials provided by the castle all smell of cedarwood. The bed smells of it too—obviously, since it’s the king’s bed. His quilts smell like jasmine and rose, so the final product is scented like both of them in a way that makes Jihoon roll around in the nest, trilling in happiness, once it’s done. His heat still hasn’t quite arrived, but Jihoon hardly thinks of it as he falls asleep wrapped in one of his oldest, most well-worn quilts and cocooned in the diffused light filtering through the canopy.
He wakes hours later to sharp pain in his gut, his favorite quilt thrown off at some point in his feverish sweating. Jihoon whines, calling out for something he can’t name, and the heavy scent of sandalwood greets him. There’s a growl, rich and low, that makes slick pour from Jihoon.
“Can I enter your nest, omega?”
At the edge of the nest, Jihoon sees the silver glow of the king’s eyes. He doesn’t know why the king is asking for permission. Jihoon willingly built the nest on his bed—that’s practically a handwritten invitation. If he planned on refusing, Jihoon would have built his nest on the floor. Despite what other omegas say, Jihoon did attend the etiquette class every other child in their village did.
“Your majesty,” Jihoon says, once he manages to make his mouth form words, “hardly needs my permission.”
“No, but I’d like it.” There’s sincerity in his words Jihoon can’t deny, but heat makes him too feverish to think about what it might mean. It’s pushed from his mind when the king keeps talking. “My moon name is Seungcheol, omega. Will you tell me yours?”
Even as deep in heat as Jihoon is, he doesn’t feel like giving up his moon name that easily. An omega’s moon name is earned, and the king has done nothing to earn Jihoon’s. Not that most people earn Jihoon’s moon name—even the cousin he traveled to the castle with doesn’t know his moon name, only his sun name. The only people who ever use Jihoon’s moon name, rather than his sun name, are his parents.
“No.” Denying the king tastes good on his tongue. He is, after all, just a man. Seungcheol, he said his name was. “Maybe you’ll earn it by the end of my heat. You may enter.”
Seungcheol enters the nest, careful not to disturb a single thing. It’s impressive, and Jihoon tugs on Seungcheol to see if he’ll continue to submit to Jihoon’s whims. He does, allowing Jihoon to rearrange him in the nest and push him around until he’s where he’s meant to be and Jihoon can settle on the broad expanse of Seungcheol’s chest. Jihoon still wants… something, but he can’t decide what’s missing or how to ask Seungcheol for it.
In his traditional village, people keep omegas sheltered before they present. Jihoon received only the vaguest knowledge of what happens during heats from his mother a few days before he left the village. He knows the purpose is, of course, procreation. The specifics of how babies are made during heat, though, are obscure to Jihoon. His mother only said an omega’s slick eases the way of an alpha’s knot, and no matter how rough an alpha is, an omega must submit. Jihoon doubts he’ll submit to alphas well, but that’s a problem for the king to solve. It isn’t like Jihoon will intentionally disobey the king. He values his own life.
Hands come up to settle on Jihoon’s hips, Seungcheol’s skin cool against Jihoon’s fevered state. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how I earn your moon name, omega.”
Jihoon hisses in displeasure. It’s his first heat—shouldn’t Seungcheol know better than him? Omegas taking their first heat in the castle are all untouched and pure. Surely Seungcheol should know Jihoon is inexperienced. Why would anyone teach Jihoon of heats when it would be his husband’s responsibility? In his village’s teachings, first heats are for the suffering of an omega that they might be saved by their mate, and that’s how Jihoon expected to spend his heat: achingly empty and sweating until the heat eased. To be confronted with Seungcheol’s silver eyes and unwavering gaze is… It isn’t right, but Jihoon can’t say it feels wrong either.
Perhaps the heat is cooking his brain. He is lightheaded and unsure of everything, nervous that being knotted will hurt. His mother made it sound like it might hurt, and Jihoon doesn’t want to cry in front of this strange alpha. He feels like he might, the aching in his gut making it hard to think and overwhelming him.
“I don’t—it’s my first heat, your majesty. I know nothing of… of what transpires.”
“Then let me teach you.” Seungcheol’s eyes are bright silver, pooled liquid moonlight Jihoon finds himself transfixed by, and Jihoon wonders if his own are golden to match. Not yet, he thinks. “Let me take care of you, omega.”
The request still makes Jihoon’s teeth ache, fangs pressing at his gums uncomfortably. He swallows, nodding. With a growl, Seungcheol tugs at the white shift Jihoon’s wearing until it tears. It’s a shame, because the fabric is finer than anything Jihoon’s worn before, but Jihoon forgets his worries as Seungcheol tosses the ruined garment somewhere and simply… stares. It’s like seeing Jihoon’s skin flushed an unsightly pink instead of the unblemished pale bisque he normally is has alerted Seungcheol to the mistake he made. The longer Seungcheol stares, the more convinced Jihoon becomes that Seungcheol finds him wanting.
“You’re so beautiful.” Seungcheol’s hands skim across Jihoon’s skin, the ghosting touch raising gooseflesh in its wake, and Jihoon shivers. “Like you were sculpted and turned real by magic.”
If Jihoon were magic-born, he would’ve been told. Having both a mother and sire disqualifies him as a product of magic, though. Only omega and omega pairings can produce children through magic. Seungcheol is an alpha, though, so Jihoon doesn’t correct him. That’s not knowledge for alphas.
“Your majesty, it’s a bit… embarrassing, to be studied.”
There’s more words on his tongue, but they die when Seungcheol’s hands come up to cup the slight swell of Jihoon’s chest. His thumbs drag across Jihoon’s nipples, and Jihoon can’t keep himself from crying out. Fresh slick leaks from him, and Seungcheol’s nostrils flare. He abandons Jihoon’s breasts, one hand instead dipping between Jihoon’s legs and dragging through the slick that clings to Jihoon’s skin. The sudden touch to somewhere even Jihoon doesn’t know startles him, making Jihoon try to move away from Seungcheol’s curious fingers. The hand on his hip prevents him from getting far.
“It would be best if I… You’ve never touched yourself, have you?” Seungcheol’s hand traces along Jihoon’s sex, fingers dragging through slick like he’s petting a cat, and it draws a sob from Jihoon. “They didn’t give you wooden replicas to practice with or let you play with other omegas.”
“That—of course not.” The implication Jihoon’s upbringing is poor enough he would be impure before his presentation to the king is offensive, even through the haze of his heat. “I am not so ill-bred!”
“I meant no offense.” Seungcheol’s thumb traces along Jihoon’s hip. “I’m asking genuinely, so I know how much might be unknown and frightening to you.”
All of it, Jihoon thinks. He is overwhelmed and feverish, heat coursing through his veins and leaving him so empty it’s unbearable. Seungcheol’s explanation soothes him though, and Jihoon lets Seungcheol guide him until his knees are on either side of Seungcheol’s head. The hands on his hips tug down, but Jihoon doesn’t follow the unspoken instruction.
“I—what does your majesty mean to do?” Jihoon wishes he sounded less nervous. It’s unbecoming for an omega to be so… childish. “We have established I’m unfamiliar.”
“If I use my mouth on you, it will help prepare you for my knot. I only want you to feel pleasure, omega, and if we don’t do this, then taking my knot might hurt you. So let me ruin you for your future husband.”
This time when Seungcheol tugs him down, Jihoon goes. He trembles at the first touch of Seungcheol’s tongue to his sex—the sensation is overwhelming and unfamiliar in a way that frightens Jihoon, who tries to move away from Seungcheol’s wicked mouth. Seungcheol’s hands on his thighs prevent it, though, keeping him in place so Jihoon has no choice but to let Seungcheol drink down the slick wetness that seems to pour from him at Seungcheol’s every touch. Body trembling, Jihoon feels tears well in his eyes. They spill over as Seungcheol’s tongue drags over a different, more sensitive area. Sobbing, Jihoon shakes with the feeling of it. He feels one of Seungcheol’s hands move and then something presses into him.
“Your majesty,” Jihoon says, panicked, “I—”
“It’s okay, omega.” Seungcheol kisses Jihoon’s inner thigh as he presses further into Jihoon’s body. “I need to stretch you with my fingers for my knot.”
The explanation soothes Jihoon’s frazzled nerves, and when he relaxes, Seungcheol’s finger sinks into his body easily. When he pulls it out, Jihoon almost complains until it’s replaced with two. Then Seungcheol’s mouth returns, tongue dragging over the part of his sex that makes him see stars. The sensation is easy to fall into; Jihoon lulled into an endless sea of pleasure so slowly it takes him by surprise when pressure builds in his gut. He tries to pull away, prevented by Seungcheol again.
“Let go.” Seungcheol’s thumb rubs soothing circles into Jihoon’s hip. “I promise this is meant to happen.”
Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. The pressure building in his gut feels like he has to relieve himself, and that’s simply embarrassing. He tries to pull away again, but Seungcheol keeps him in place and keeps up his ministrations until Jihoon can’t hold it in anymore. Pleasure washes over his body at the release, and Jihoon shivers as he hiccups through the aftermath. Hands ever-gentle with Jihoon, Seungcheol lays him out in the nest and pets at his skin until he stops trembling. For a few moments, Jihoon only breathes.
Then pain tears through his abdomen, making him cry out. Seungcheol cradles him close, one hand over his womb, and Jihoon feels… safe. Reality doesn’t match what he imagined when thinking of being chosen by the king—or of spending his heat with an alpha. The warm safety of Seungcheol’s embrace isn’t even what Jihoon imagined when thinking of being mated. Seungcheol is tender and caring in a way that makes Jihoon’s moon name live on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it down out of stubbornness.
However safe Seungcheol feels, Jihoon has no assurance he will remain that way. Maybe he likes to play with his food. Jihoon’s mother might’ve kept him in the dark, but she was clear about one thing: alphas are not to be trusted. That, Jihoon assumes, can only be doubly true for someone like the king.
“You need to be knotted.” Seungcheol’s hands are firm on Jihoon’s thighs as he spreads them, but he touches Jihoon like Jihoon’s something precious. Something rarefied—a magic not unlike the omega father Soonyoung spoke of when they traded stories about the moon. “Are you ready, omega?”
Nothing in Jihoon is ready.
He nods anyway.
Seungcheol nearly pops his knot when he first sinks his cock into the omega’s cunt. The metallic acridness of blood undercuts the sweet jasmine and rose of the omega’s scent—the omega wasn’t kidding when he said he was untouched beyond Seungcheol’s wildest dreams. Seungcheol noticed while fingering the omega that most of the omega’s moon blessing was intact, which made tearing almost inevitable.
Most omegas spending their heat at the castle are pure in some sense, but many have wooden practice cocks or play with other omegas like alphas play with betas. So long as they’re relatively pure when they mate, most omegas in the kingdom receive some amount of sexual education. Many omegas learn how to touch themselves from omega elders so that they can teach their alphas how to touch them, for example. Seungcheol himself learned how to touch an omega from a beta with more omegean anatomy, but he’s aware that’s a privilege of his status.
Still, it’s good for everyone to have some experience, in Seungcheol’s opinion. He wants to be principled about this, but the omega’s huffy little declaration that he knew nothing of heats unlocked something in Seungcheol. Seungcheol feels sickened by how feral he feels about knowing the omega’s cunt is untouched even by the omega himself. The knowledge has activated the basest of his alpha instincts, and Seungcheol is fighting with the urge to press the omega into the bed and fuck him with abandon.
He is better than that. To be king, he must be better than that.
“Moonlight herself made you for me.” Seungcheol presses further into the omega’s trembling body, hands roaming over the omega’s skin and cupping the swell of his chest. Entranced by the rosy buds, Seungcheol brushes his thumbs over the omega’s nipples again. Just like earlier, the omega cries out. “You’ll bear such beautiful pups for me—won’t you, omega?”
The omega blinks up at him, guileless. “Your majesty intends to breed me?”
“Mm.” Bending, Seungcheol presses his nose to the omega’s scent gland and inhales the muskier scent of sandalwood. He slides the rest of the way into the omega’s body and resists the urge to press his hand to where his cock is visible in the omega’s stomach. Another time, after he’s turned this omega into an insatiable cockslut. “Until you bear me a son and maybe longer. Would you want to be queen?”
From the moment Seungcheol laid eyes on the omega, he knew he’d do everything possible to make this omega his queen. The kingdom hasn’t had a queen in fifty years, because Seungcheol’s newly dead sire saw no need for one and simply chose omegas that caught his fancy until he met Seungcheol’s father, who refused the title of queen but lived in the castle as one. It’s a lucky thing Seungcheol’s siblings are all betas and omegas, because his sire’s favoritism would have made him heir even if he had an older alpha sibling. Regardless, the kingdom’s long lack of a queen is one reason Jeonghan’s been pushing Seungcheol to marry before his coronation.
It’s a sound suggestion, but until he saw this omega, Seungcheol had little interest in marriage. Mating certainly, but even Seungcheol’s interest in mating was more… abstract. Something he wanted eventually, but didn’t have immediate interest in.
“I want your seed.” The omega growls, a fierce little thing Seungcheol never wants to tame. “Breed me like you promised, alpha.”
He barely needs the encouragement. Alpha instincts haywire with the need to claim breed mate, Seungcheol fucks the omega like he needs it to breathe—which it’s starting to feel like he might. Seungcheol’s head fills with the image of the omega split open on his cock as he holds court, everyone’s eyes filled with jealousy and the undeniable knowledge that they’re all allowed to look, but only Seungcheol is allowed to touch. Or maybe the omega would allow another playmate into their bed—a sweet little submissive omega or beta, equally wrapped around the omega’s little fist.
Seungcheol would allow it. This omega could ask for anything, and Seungcheol would allow it. He’s halfway in love with the omega already, and he doesn’t even know the omega’s moon or sun name. That’s not uncommon—Seungcheol doesn’t know the moon names of many omegas outside his own father and brother, just some omega mates of court members. It’s a bit traditional, but many omegas only tell their mates their moon names, preferring to use their sun names for everyone else. Even with sun names, omegas often only give them out if necessary. Seungcheol gets the feeling that might be the norm in the omega’s village, however.
Increasingly filthy images of the omega debauched and well-fucked fill Seungcheol’s brain, his knot finally popping and locking them together. While they’re locked together, Seungcheol rubs little circles on the omega’s jewel like he was taught to as he grinds his knot into the omega’s cunt. It eventually gets him what he wants: the omega coming and milking his knot until it starts to deflate. In time, he thinks he can teach the omega how to milk a knot purposefully. For now, he knows the omega’s too deep in heat to retain the lesson.
Once Seungcheol’s cock slips from the omega’s cunt, Seungcheol settles them into the nest and the omega cuddles closer to him. The way the omega wiggles higher for the express purpose of sticking his nose into Seungcheol’s neck reminds Seungcheol of a cat the castle had as a mouse-catcher in his youth. It was prickly and hissed frequently, but Seungcheol spend weeks plying it with bits of dried fish and chicken livers until the cat let him pet it.
Everyone called it Seungcheol’s cat, but Seungcheol didn’t think of it like that. He belonged to the cat, and Seungcheol cried for weeks after it died protecting him from would-be assassins. Without conscious thought, Seungcheol’s hand pets the omega’s hair, much like he used to pet the cat at night, before they went to sleep. When Seungcheol notices he’s doing it, he almost stops before noticing the omega’s quiet purring.
“My sun name is Chapssal,” the omega says after a few minutes of quiet. “Do you have one? I know some alphas don’t.”
Sweet rice. That’s cute and fitting—the omega’s cheeks look a bit like tteok. It makes Seungcheol desperate to flip Chapssal over and sink his teeth into the plush fat of his bottom. It’d have the same texture as good tteok, Seungcheol knows.
“Beotnamu.” He doesn’t even remember why he’s a cherry tree. His siblings have called him that for as long as he can remember—the case for many sun names, Seungcheol knows—and he’s lost the meaning to time. “May I call you Chapssal, omega?”
Not even moving his face from Seungcheol’s neck, Chapssal nods. Comfortable silence covers them like a blanket, and they lie there for a while before Seungcheol shifts to find one of the water pitchers his attendants brought and the cup. He pours water for himself first, draining it, before pouring water for Chapssal. When he offers it, the omega refuses at first, but ultimately gives in and drinks the whole cup. Seungcheol pours another one, and Chapssal sips at it. Setting aside the cup when it’s empty, Seungcheol notes the omega getting restless again.
“I need…” Chapssal trails off, a little helpless. “I want…”
He makes a frustrated little noise, subconsciously grinding his cunt against Seungcheol’s body. It’s adorable. It makes Seungcheol want to eat him alive.
“You need me again,” Seungcheol says, this time lying down and moving Chapssal so his legs are braced on either side of Seungcheol’s body. It makes the omega blink down at him, clearly confused. “My body is yours to use, Chapssal. Don’t you want to sit on your throne?”
It’s clear Chapssal needs more encouragement, so Seungcheol guides him up until he’s positioned over Seungcheol’s cock. The position seems to unlock something in the omega’s instincts, because he sinks down with a satisfied little purr. His noises alone are enough to make Seungcheol knot, but heat isn’t about an alpha’s pleasure, so he swallows and wills himself not to. Chapssal is a test that Seungcheol’s close to failing, though, because once he’s seated he finds a loose quilt in the nest and drapes it over them, curling up on Seungcheol’s chest with a pleased sigh like a sun-warmed cat.
His breathing evens out after a moment, and Seungcheol realizes his cock is buried in Chapssal’s warm cunt but the omega himself is asleep—probably from the hormonal imbalance of first heat. Despite popular belief, it’s quite difficult to get an omega in their first heat pregnant due to hormone fluctuations. Seungcheol’s own sire took countless omegas throughout his reign, but Seungcheol only has four older siblings. If Chapssal ends his heat unbred, Seungcheol will let him live the life he would have, but Seungcheol’s choosing to take Chapssal wanting his cock before sleeping as a good sign.
Everything Seungcheol’s read about heats says if an omega wants to be filled even when sleeping, then their body is willing to be bred and their mind is willing too. Having both in accord is important—a fertile omega is still hostile to pregnancy if their mind deems children a liability of sorts. Omegas experience lower fertility in times of war and higher fertility in times of abundance, from what Seungcheol’s read, so the conditions are good for beating the odds. Chapssal might not understand his instincts, but he seems to let them guide him to a much higher extent than most omegas Seungcheol’s met.
That being said, the soft, wet heat of Chapssal’s cunt around his cock is torture. All of Seungcheol’s beta playmates assured him that an omega isn’t so different from an omega-leaning beta. That held true through Seungcheol feasting on Chapssal’s slick and preparing him for a knot, but once Seungcheol breached him… no. The differences between a beta’s cunt and an omega’s cunt are so many it’s hardly the same sensation. Where betas lack the muscles to milk a knot, now that Seungcheol’s reminded Chapssal’s body what it wants to do, it feels like Chapssal’s cunt never stops trying to milk him. Like it knows Seungcheol might go soft if left unattended, every few minutes Seungcheol feels it constrict around his cock.
A lesser alpha would fuck a sleeping omega in this instance, because the body’s responses are enough to assume the omega wants this, but Seungcheol knows better. He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut like it’ll help prevent him from knotting the omega, and endures even as his cock twitches. Chapssal’s brow furrows in sleep, and Seungcheol brings his hand up to pet Chapssal’s hair again. The action seems to calm Chapssal, and eventually the soft rhythm of his breathing lulls Seungcheol to sleep too.
When he wakes, it’s to Chapssal peering down at him with his fingers tracing along Seungcheol’s face. The omega startles when Seungcheol wakes, drawing back like Seungcheol’s caught him doing something shameful. Like many things about Chapssal, though, Seungcheol finds the entire thing cute. The cat used to act similarly when Seungcheol caught it unawares.
“Memorizing my face?” Seungcheol’s hands find their way to the swell of Chapssal’s breast, which he’s obsessed with. They’re already much larger than most omegas he knows, a proper handful even though Chapssal isn’t pregnant. Their weight makes Seungcheol want to see them even heavier with milk—he wants to drink from them when they’re so full it hurts. Instead, he pinches one of Chapssal’s nipples between his fingers and smiles when he feels the omega clench down on his cock. “Will you miss me, when you go back to your regular life?”
“I don’t know you,” Chapssal says. “Why would I miss you?”
For a moment, Seungcheol thinks the words are a bit of coy theatrics. It’s a common sort of bed talk Seungcheol’s heard from betas before, pretending not to like someone, but then he realizes Chapssal isn’t versed enough in the world to be coy about it. No, he means what he says, and something about that stings even though it’s true. Despite his cock being buried in Chapssal’s cunt, they’re no better than strangers to each other.
“Have I not taken care of you?” His hands move from Chapssal’s breast to his hips. “Have I been remiss in my duties? Tell me how I can make it up to you, Chapssal.”
“I liked when you knotted me.” Chapssal’s confession is shy, quiet like he’s afraid someone might overhear. This too makes Seungcheol’s heart stutter with how precious it is. “I would like if you did it again.”
Seungcheol obeys, flipping them in the nest to fuck into Chapssal’s willing cunt. The action draws soft moans from Chapssal, whose hands come up to grip at Seungcheol’s biceps. His fine-boned fingers don’t even wrap halfway around, and the sight is enough for Seungcheol’s knot to swell and lock them together. His hand finds Chapssal’s jewel and rubs, but it’s pushed away.
“I want to feel you, alpha.” Chapssal presses at Seungcheol’s shoulder, and Seungcheol obediently rolls so he’s on his back. The change in position makes Chapssal moan, sinking further onto Seungcheol’s cock. “Are all alphas this large? It feels like you might split me in half.”
“I’m relatively average.” Seungcheol sees no reason to lie: he is maybe on the larger end of average, but nothing spectacular. He loses his inner battle against the desire to trace the outline of his cock on Chapssal’s stomach, though. The touch makes Chapssal shiver, cunt milking his knot. “You’re quite small, though.”
Chapssal nods. “The other omegas in my village said I was unfit to carry and would likely die in childbirth.”
The frank admission makes Seungcheol blink. He’s heard omegas are vicious with each other in private, but Chapssal hasn’t registered their rudeness the way the omegas likely intended. Chapssal seems to accept their words as a factual statement: he is too small to have children and therefore undesirable. Seungcheol knows it’s far more likely the other omegas in Chapssal’s village felt threatened by Chapssal’s beauty. He’s pale as moonlight, skin completely unblemished in a way other omegas would kill for, and so beautiful it seems he’s been sculpted from marble. It looks like Luna herself infused moonlight into Chapssal’s very being or maybe sculpted him from it.
“I don’t think that’s true.” Seungcheol’s fingers trace around the shape of his cock again, and Chapssal whines. He doesn’t bat Seungcheol’s hand away, though, so Seungcheol considers that permission. Even in their short time together, Chapssal’s proven he’s perfectly capable of telling Seungcheol when he doesn’t want something. “Many omegas your size have healthy children, so it sounds like something said out of jealousy.”
“Jealousy? What would they be jealous of?”
It’s a genuine question, Chapssal’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Seungcheol’s too stunned to respond. He sees omegas every day—some of them considered the most beautiful ones in the kingdom. Mingyu’s omega mate is almost ethereal in his beauty, a fourth prince of a neighboring kingdom so beautiful his kingdom sent him to spend time with Seungcheol, hoping to secure an alliance. That fell through—Qīngwā likes Seungcheol well enough, he just likes Mingyu better—but the kingdom secured the alliance in the end, regardless.
“You’re beautiful, Chapssal.” Seungcheol’s hand moves up to touch Chapssal’s face, fingers curving around Chapssal’s jaw, and running a thumb along his lips. They’re red, like he’s stained them with cherry juice the way some omegas do, but Seungcheol knows they’re like that naturally. “What omega wouldn’t envy you? It’s the thing that drew me to you.”
From the confusion on Chapssal’s face, Seungcheol can tell he doesn’t believe Seungcheol’s telling the truth. It’s true, though. When Seungcheol walked into the omega receiving room, he had no intention of selecting an omega. There’s still details of his sire’s death and the upcoming coronation to sort out, but Seungcheol saw Chapssal and threw every responsibility and worry over his shoulder. Seungcheol’s father didn’t raise him on the romantic stories many people are, the ones of true mates and moon-blessed matings. He’s exceedingly practical and uninterested in the games omegas play to find their way into his royal bed—and there are many.
Omegas have covered themselves in artificial scent, fingered themselves until their thighs were dripping with slick, and thrown themselves at him in countless other ways in the three months since he took over receiving omegas from his sire. Every omega wants to be chosen by the king for the status it affords them if nothing else, and it makes some of them desperate. Not a single one tempted Seungcheol, no matter how much they cried when he only wished them well.
Looking into Chapssal’s wide, innocent eyes made Seungcheol feel like the stories were true.
Seungcheol wanted him so sharply and feverishly it felt like another omega trick. It became clear after a few moments, however, that either Chapssal was the best actor in the kingdom or he truly was guileless and there was no trick. While Chapssal built his nest, Seungcheol spoke to his chaperone and found out they came from a small village along the outskirts of the kingdom. They took an entire month to travel to the castle, and Chapssal hasn’t taken heat-staving herbs, so the heat is fully natural. The village they came from was, by the chaperone’s own admission, extremely traditional, and Chapssal is a bit naïve. He had no other omega friends and spent his days sewing the quilts currently decorating the nest.
“If it pleases your majesty to think so.” Even though Chapssal’s head bows in submission, Seungcheol gets the distinct impression there’s a but I think your majesty is stupid for thinking so tacked on in the omega’s head. It makes Seungcheol wonder where he learned such behavior in a traditional village. “I’m grateful to be chosen.”
“Do you believe in moon-blessed matings?” Seungcheol’s hands settle on Chapssal’s breast again, fingers toying with his nipples. “When I saw you, I felt as if Luna herself sent you to me.”
“I am already in your bed, your majesty.” A sweet little gasp falls from Chapssal’s lips, cunt equally sweetly milking Seungcheol’s knot. “You need not flatter me to keep me here or make up stories to make me feel special.”
But you are special, Seungcheol wants to say. He knows it wouldn’t be received well, though, so he continues playing with Chapssal’s nipples. It makes him mewl, squirming on Seungcheol’s knot, and it’s the cutest thing—although Seungcheol’s realizing every little thing Chapssal does is the cutest thing. Jeonghan once picked up one of the castle cats and said he’s so cute I want to strangle him and when Seungcheol expressed alarm that Jeonghan might harm a cat, only said relax, cuteness aggression is perfectly normal. That’s what Seungcheol feels looking at Chapssal: an insatiable urge to be mean, because Chapssal’s so cute.
Even if Chapssal doesn’t agree, Seungcheol would like to think of their eventual mating as moon-blessed. He already things of their meeting as a blessing from Luna: in his time of darkness, Luna sent him moonlight to guide his path. Seungcheol wants to keep Chapssal forever, and he’s already formulating plans for how he might do that.
“I only say what I mean.” One of Seungcheol’s hands dips between Chapssal’s legs, fingers finding his jewel, and this time Chapssal doesn’t stop him. Seungcheol strokes along the length instead of rubbing circles, which makes Chapssal gasp and rock down on his cock. “You have beauty wars are started over and when I see you, I feel you’ve cast a spell on me. I want to keep you here in my bed, let your nest grow until the entire room is your territory. The entire castle, even. Anything you want, Chapssal.”
Everything he has and more. Anything Chapssal wants, Seungcheol will find a way to give him.
“Stop talking nonsense.” A pleasing flush has spread across Chapssal’s cheeks, his whole body flushing pink like cherry blossoms as he grinds down on Seungcheol’s knot. “You are not courting me. You are meant to be breeding me.”
If that’s what Chapssal wants, then Seungcheol can do nothing but obey.