Chapter Text
Sunoo is a man in love.
He hums softly to himself as he follows the recipe to the letter, stirring the kimchijjigae while the cookies bake in the oven, the ones with just the right amount of sweetness, because Sunghoon doesn't like things too sweet.
He dips a spoon in for a taste, nodding happily. Perfect. He wonders if it'll remind Sunghoon of his mother's cooking. He'd been so careful with the recipe. He pictures it, that rare flicker in those jet-black eyes, the one that lasts less than a second before Sunoo can be sure it was ever there. His heart squeezes from wanting.
After setting the table, exhaustion tugs at him as he sits down, leaning his head on his arm. He's been so tired lately, bones aching in a way they never used to. He fights to stay awake, but in between the ticking clock and his eyelids drooping, he nods off into a shallow sleep.
A loud bang jolts him awake. Sunoo winces, his neck sore from the awkward position, but then reality hits and he jumps up, ignoring the clock that reads four hours past.
"Hoonie, you're back!"
He rushes to his alpha husband, who barely spares him a glance. Sunoo doesn't care. All that matters is that he catches Sunghoon slightly off guard and buries his face in his chest, arms wrapping around him, holding on. He breathes in deep, and there's almost nothing there. Sunghoon never releases his pheromones for him, hasn't in a long time. All that greets him is the cold smell of outside. Swallowing his hurt, he presses in closer anyway.
When he feels Sunghoon about to pull back, Sunoo lets go and takes the briefcase from his hand instead. "Did you have a good day? I made dinner, kimchijjigae, your favorite. Not too spicy. Should we eat first, or do you want to shower? I can reheat everything, it won't take long-"
He rambles on, trailing after Sunghoon like a shadow.
But when Sunghoon finally turns, his eyes are stony and hollow, stalling him.
"I already ate," he announces coldly, before striding away to the bathroom, the door clicking shut, leaving Sunoo standing at the end of the hall.
He's just tired from work. That's all, he tells himself, heart quietly twisting.
He's a man in love. So he smiles.
The figure above him grunts, thrusting deep inside, pleasure ripping through Sunoo like a storm.
His hands lift on instinct, reaching for his face, just wanting to touch it for a second, but Sunghoon catches his wrists before he gets there and pins them above his head. The grip is hard enough to bruise. Sunoo winces, but as the thrusts grow harder, more urgent he loses himself in it, moaning and crying out. He's close and he can sense Sunghoon is too. When he finally spills inside him, Sunoo seizes the moment of vulnerability, pulling him down into a tight hug before his husband can pull away, locking both arms and legs around him, his nose pressed to his throat. There. It's brief and rare, the flush of Sunghoon's masculine and addictive scent releasing in the heat of it. Sunoo breathes it in desperately, like the starving man he is.
"I love you, Hoonie," he whispers, eyes squeezed tight. "I love you so much."
A low grunt. That's all he gets in return.
Then the warmth is already gone. Sunghoon untangles himself, rolls to the far edge of the bed, and his back settles like a wall between them.
Sunoo lies still. His hand aches to reach for the broad expanse of Sunghoon's back, hovering uselessly in the air above it.
He never reaches out.
Sunoo is a man in love. His love is different. His love is patient.
He'll wait.
"My birthday's next week." Sunoo pours Sunghoon's coffee, his heart carefully hopeful. "Should we have dinner at home, or try that restaurant you mentioned?"
Sunghoon stops eating. "It's next week?"
"Mm-hm." Sunoo slides into his own seat, reaching for his toast. It doesn't bother him, really, that Sunghoon forgot. He's busy. "Should I make a reservation? I don't mind handling it."
"..."
"Hoonie?"
"I have a business trip next week. I'm going out of town."
Sunoo stops. "Oh." A small laugh comes out. "But... couldn't you maybe cancel? Just this once?"
Sharp, hostile eyes snap up, making his laugh die out.
"Do you think work is something I can cancel on a whim? Unlike you, I don't have my father's inheritance to lounge on."
Sunoo flinches and looks down at his plate. His favorite avocado toast. It looks mushy and revolting now.
"I'm sorry, Hoonie. Of course, it's understandable. We, we can always celebrate next time."
He doesn't lift his head again for the rest of breakfast.
He sits cross-legged in front of his parents' graves, a mint chocolate cake balanced on his lap. A single candle on top.
The cemetery is quiet, save for the soft wind moving through the trees.
"Mom, Dad." His voice cracks on the first word. "Can you see me from up there? Your son turned twenty-seven today."
His eyes sting and he rubs them hard with the back of his wrist, then his shaky hands fumble with the lighter until the flame catches. He cups it until it holds.
Time for a wish.
He closes his eyes. For just a second he lets himself imagine it, Sunghoon sitting beside him here, close enough their shoulders touch. That he came. That he remembered. Just for a second. He lets himself have it.
Blowing out the candle he opens his eyes.
All alone.
Just him, and the empty cemetery and the grey-white sky and the wind.
He picks up the fork and takes a bite. The cake is good. He takes another before he's done chewing. Then another. Too fast, barely tasting it, because if he slows down he'll have to sit with everything he's feeling. He sniffles into the next bite, and the next, until all he tastes is salt and he realizes distantly that he's been crying.
"Happy birthday, Sunoo," he whispers on a sob.
Instead of heading home, he wanders to the old park, finding a bench facing west he watches the sky turn orange.
His mind drifts back five years. The first time he saw Sunghoon.
He'd been barely twenty-two, fresh out of university, confident in the careless way of someone who'd never had to try for much. He'd grown up sickly after losing his mother young, and his father had spent years overcompensating, giving into his every whim until Sunoo had become an ungrateful brat who simply expected to get what he wanted.
He'd walked through that company party with his nose up, barely sparing anyone a second glance.
And then across the room, there he was. Tall. Alluring. Masculine. An alpha who commanded the space. Someone who deserved his attention. Sunoo's heart stopped. It took less than five seconds to fall. And the man hadn't even noticed him.
He badgered his father until an introduction was arranged. He remembers it all too well.
"Sunghoon-ssi, this is my omega son. Kim Sunoo."
The man turned from his conversation and offered a polite hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Sunoo-ssi."
His voice was deep, sending a shiver down Sunoo's spine. They exchanged small talk, but unlike how Sunoo's entire world had tilted, Sunghoon's expression remained neutral and unaffected. He answered the few things Sunoo's father asked about work, and when a colleague waved him over from across the room, he excused himself with a small bow and left.
That was it. Nothing more.
But somehow that little taste was enough to poison Sunoo's mind. And there was no turning back.
On the way home, Sunoo turned to his father in the car. "I want him. Make it happen."
Their first date was set up after his father pulled some strings. Sunoo dressed to kill. He knew how he looked, but he pushed it, leaving his scent blockers off entirely, his omega scent wafting out sweet and seductive. He was twenty-two and had never wanted anything this much in his life, and he intended to get it.
Sunghoon arrived exactly on time, sat down across from him, and before the menus were even opened, he spoke.
"I should be upfront with you." He looked him straight in the eyes, thick brows furrowing. His angry eyes intimidating, but oh so tempting. "I already have a partner. A long-term partner. I came today because I thought it was only fair to tell you in person, rather than ignoring the arrangement."
Sunoo saw red, jealousy clawing at him, but kept his cool. "Are you mated?"
"No."
Finding the relief coursing through him alien but exhilarating, he smiled, "Then it's not a problem." He glanced back at the menu. "You can end things with them and come to me. Should we get champagne?"
The silence stretched.
When he looked up, Sunghoon was staring at him with flat disgust that most people wouldn't have the nerve to put on their face so plainly. His eyes darkened at Sunoo's scent. "I am not leaving my partner. You cannot change my mind. Not with your body, nor your money. And after today, I'd like you not to contact me again." Face darkening he pressed. "Do you understand?"
Sunoo almost laughed in his face. He actually wanted him to just give up.
"I understand," he said sweetly.
What he actually understood was that his life had finally found meaning. The push-back, the resistance. He hadn't known until that moment that wanting someone could feel this alive. And whenever Sunoo saw a wobbly tower that just needed a tiny push to fall... he couldn't help but to give it more than a nudge.
He didn't drink for three days.
He didn't eat for five days.
He wasted away in his room despite his father's pleas.
When his father came in on the sixth day, his face pale with worry, Sunoo was lying on top of his covers, staring at a picture of Sunghoon, refusing to look up.
"Sunoo-ya, Appa made it happen for you. Park Sunghoon has agreed to marry you."
And just like that... the once proud and mighty tower came tumbling down.
He sat up, beaming. "I'm hungry. Let's eat, Appa."
The wedding was a spectacle, lavish and grand. His father had spared nothing to make the venue turn gold in the evening light. Sunghoon, the alpha groom, was devastatingly handsome. And Sunoo, the omega bride, was luminous, smiling until his cheeks ached.
On his way to the powder room, he passed a small cluster of guests murmuring in the corner.
"What a beautiful wedding."
"Right, Chairman Kim left no expense."
"Ugh, I envy them."
Sunoo was already smiling when the next words stopped him cold.
"I don't." A low voice. "Did you see how miserable the groom looked? Poor guy was forced into it. I heard the Kim family threatened to blacklist him from the entire industry. Every major company, every opportunity, gone. And when that still wasn't enough, they went after his family. Parents, siblings, even his little nieces and nephews. Threatened to strip them down to nothing and put them out on the street, until he finally said yes."
A sharp gasp. "Rich people are fucking crazy."
Sunoo wasn't stupid. He knew the cost of making today happen. He knew. He just didn't care. As long as Park Sunghoon was his, nothing else mattered.
Then a third voice joined, laughing loudly. "Where do I find an obsessive rich omega like that? Hell, I'd kill to be in Park Sunghoon's place. Lucky bastard."
Their voices faded as Sunoo walked away. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding.
Yeah. Sunghoon was the lucky one.
Present.
He's jerked back by a tickle at his nostril, then the wet drip of blood onto the back of his hand. A nosebleed.
He tips his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, waiting for it to pass. When it finally does, he presses his hand to his throbbing temple and notices how numb his fingers are. It's spring but the night has gone cold without him realizing, the chill settling deep in his bones.
He could take a taxi. But with Sunghoon away on his trip, an empty luxury apartment held no appeal to him.
Walking towards home, he remembered he'd left his phone on the counter this morning. Maybe he'll call Sunghoon when he gets in. He never picks up. But maybe he will tonight, it is his birthday, after all. Despite everything, the thought makes him smile a little.
When he finally enters the apartment, something feels off. His hands tense, but without his phone there's no one to call. Wanting to get out he backpedals to the door when-
"Where were you?"
He whirls.
"Sunghoonie?"
He squints into the dim light, thinking his mind is playing tricks on him, but no, Park Sunghoon is right there. On the couch, jacket still on, looking tired, irritated and impatient. But to Sunoo, the sight of him is enough to bring joy crashing through so hard his knees almost buckle.
"I asked where were you."
"I... I visited my parents. I didn't realize how late it got." His voice comes out a little breathless. "I'm sorry, Hoonie." He's already crossing the room, already sinking to his knees, pressing his cheek to Sunghoon's thigh without thinking. Warm. So warm. His eyes fall shut. "Did you come back early? For my birthday?"
"My client cancelled."
His client cancelled and so here he is. Not because he wanted to come home. Or because he cares. Sunoo knows this completely. But Sunghoon is here. And the tears that have been sitting behind his eyes all day press painfully close.
"Thank you, Hoonie," he whispers against his thigh. "This is the best birthday gift."
His husband says nothing but he doesn't push him away either, allowing Sunoo this small, borrowed moment, until he's had enough and is already brushing him off to stand.
Sunoo gets up too, a litle too fast as the room tilts, its edges briefly going dark. He grabs the armrest to steady himself, then follows. "Should we order in? I already ate, but is there anything you want to eat?"
"Don't bother. I'm going to bed."
A week later, Sunoo treats himself to a solo book date, losing himself in pages at a quiet café.
Craving coffee afterward, he heads to a nearby spot, freezing mid-step after placing his order when he spots Sunghoon at a table near the window with his work colleagues. Looking easy and loose, his face open and unguarded the way it never is at home. Never with him.
The sight washes over Sunoo strangely. Love and grief tangled up in it.
Then a memory hits him.
About two years ago, he'd stolen a document from Sunghoon's desk, one he'd spent a whole week and sleepless nights on, Sunoo had planned to bring it to his office himself. He'd told himself that it would make Sunghoon see him differently. As someone useful. Someone worth noticing.
That had failed miserably. Sunghoon saw right through him at the front desk, and the look on his face was something Sunoo had never seen before. He'd pulled him by the arm into the stairwell, and when the door shut, his voice came out low and seething, harsh eyes staring down at Sunoo like he was a problem he couldn't wait to be rid of.
"You will not bring your little games in my workplace. You don't use my name. You don't associate yourself with me in public. And if you ever pull something like this again, I promise you the conversation we have after will be the last one between us. Do you understand me?"
Sunoo had nodded. Then cried in the elevator on the way down and hated himself for it.
The memory fades as he takes a step back toward the door now. I shouldn't be here. Sunghoon would stop smiling if he saw him.
"Park Sunoo!" The barista calls from across the counter.
Sunoo goes rigid. He'd done it again, slipped the Park onto his name without thinking. He'd been doing it for years, an intimate, embarrassing secret he only let himself have when Sunghoon wasn't around to find it pathetic.
He doesn't dare look toward the window table, hurridly turning for the door, wanting to disappear, so flustered he doesn't see the man rounding the corner with hot coffee. When they collide, the cup tips and scalding liquid pours down Sunoo's arm.
He cries out, stumbling back. His eyes blur immediately, tearing up before he can stop them. The man apologizes over and over in a panicked rush but Sunoo barely registers it.
Then strong arms come around him, that rare scent wraps around him, and his whole body goes slack. In seconds he's carried to the car, then settled in the passenger seat. Sunghoon gets into the driver's seat, jaw ticking, eyes ahead. He starts the engine without a word.
Sunoo hunches over his arm, pain stricken and trembling, refusing to make a sound, instead tasting blood from biting the insides of his cheeks so hard.
"You need to take better care of yourself," Sunghoon grits his teeth around the words. "So you don't inconvenience people."
"I- I'm sorry," Sunoo rasps out. "I'm so sorry."
"Apologizing changes nothing." A deep inhale through the nose, "Stop being a burden, Sunoo."
Pain intensifying, Sunoo turns to face the window. His husband's words are venom, blazing a path through his body, beyond the burns, reminding him that he has no one but himself to blame for it.
At the hospital, the nurse asks if the man with him is his partner.
"N-no," Sunoo jumps in quickly, before Sunghoon can say anything. "He's a colleague. He helped me get here."
He holds himself still and doesn't look back. But he can feel the commanding presence of his husband standing a few feet away, his posture probably of a man being forced upon another inconvenience. Shame and guilt moves through Sunoo the way it always does.
"I'll handle the paperwork," Sunghoon says gruffly, and leaves.
The nurse draws the curtain around the bay and helps him out of his shirt. Then she goes still.
The bruising across his back and sides is deep. Purple and yellow splotches blooming.
"Are you an omega?" she asks gently.
Sunoo nods, refusing to meet her eyes.
She's quiet for a moment. "I've worked the omega ward for ten years. Those marks... they're not from today." She meets his eyes carefully. "These kinds of physical symptoms happen when the bond between a mated omega and their alpha is severely neglected. Long-term. That's why the body starts to break down. You need to see a doctor. With your alpha partner." She forces him to hold her gaze.
Sunoo looks away. His hands are clammy and his mouth fills with that bitter taste that comes right before nausea hits. "It's... it's not anyone's fault. It's nobody's fault." But mine.
"It's not your fault either," she hurries to add, like she can hear his thoughts, taking his hands in both of hers, she pleads. "Please, just get checked."
He stares down them, and before he can stop himself clutches them back. Unable to recall the last time someone just held his hands or comforted him. And he hates, deeply, how much he needs it. His throat pulls tight and for a moment he wants to reach out, maybe he could-
"Stop being a burden, Sunoo."
Right. His face twisting into a smile he's perfected, he pulls away. "Thank you. But I'm okay."
If he's broken, he should stay broken.
A month later, he stares at himself in the bathroom mirror for a long time.
He's lost more weight he hadn't meant to lose. The shadows under his eyes have become a permanent feature.
He looks unwell and fragile. Like the sick child he used to be.
And ugly, he thinks. A reflection of your soul.
Then the trickle starts. He watches the first drop of blood appear at the edge of his nostril, then more, before he catches it on a tissue, tilting his head. He waits.
It doesn't slow.
Three weeks earlier.
"Omega pheromone-responsive leukemia," the doctor had said. "It's rarer than it was, because most mated omegas don't go extended periods without alpha pheromone exposure. The bond, chemically regulates a great deal. When it's disrupted long term, paired with prolonged suppressant use..." She set down her pen. "It creates conditions for certain cells to mutate."
He was dying.
It should have broken something in him. But Sunoo just stared at how brittle his nails looked. "And treatment?"
"There's no guarantee. But treatment can only start with your mated alpha's presence and pheromones, and it needs to start immediately." The doctor watched him with kind eyes. And he immediately wished he hadn't noticed them. "Given your existing health history, you are not someone who can afford to wait on this. Do you understand, Sunoo-shi?"
The blood isn't slowing. It's all over his fingers now, dark against the white of the sink. He presses another tissue to his face. Then another.
Sunoo is a man in love.
His love is different.
His love is patient.
And he...
No.
No.
A sob rises up and he can't push it back down.
He's... selfish.
Ugly and greedy and corrupt. He destroyed a man's life. He took someone who loved someone else and dragged him into a four walled prison and called it a marriage and spent five years telling himself it was devotion. It was never devotion, never patience, never love— it was never any of those things. It was just him, his pathetic greed dressed up as longing, his monstrous obsession overriding his emotions, and he always knew.
He's sobbing now, hands gripping the sink, and blood is everywhere, fingers, chin, pooling red on the floor. And underneath the fear, the self-loathing and the shame, there is still one wretched, desperate thing he can't let go of... Park Sunghoon. The same self destructive hunger heightened because there is no one else. There has never been anyone else.
He reaches for his phone with shaky, bloodstained hands and dials.
It rings.
He never picks up. You know why he never picks up.
Rings again.
Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.
Just when he's about to give up, a miracle happens, and the line connects.
The relief that floods him is so physical it nearly drops him, he opens his mouth to speak when-
"Hello?"
The voice on the other line is calm and a little wary. But undeniable that they recognise Sunoo. And he does too.
It's the same voice he's spent five years trying to lock it away somewhere he doesn't go.
Na Jaemin.
Five years earlier.
Sunoo had chosen that upscale restaurant because it was the kind of place that made people feel small if they didn't belong there, and he wanted Jaemin to feel that before he even sat down.
The man who slid into the seat across from him was nothing remarkable. Not striking, not wealthy. Not even pretty.
And yet Sunoo hated him with every fibre in him, completely.
"I'll be direct," Sunoo quipped, unable to keep the sneer off his voice. "Park Sunghoon's mine now. Whatever you two had is over. But since I'm feeling generous, name your price."
"I don't want your money."
"Everyone says that at first. Take your time. Think of a number. There's no wrong answer with me."
Jaemin said nothing for a moment and Sunoo smirked. But when his eyes finally lifted to his, instead of the defeat or greed Sunoo had expected, they held clarity. And something that looked, horribly, like pity.
"I don't want your money," he said again. "And I'm not going to fight you either. Take him if you can. But you should know, you'll never have what you're actually after. He's agreeing to this because your family left him no choice. Not because of anything you are to him. You can't force your feelings on someone, no matter how rich you or how much you can give. You can chase and chase him, but all you'll find is how hollow you are from the inside."
"Shut the fuck up." All pretense gone, Sunoo's hands were flat on the table, cold and violent anger moving through his chest. How fucking dare someone beneath him judge him. "You don't know a single thing."
"I know him. And...," Jaemin says with a calm expression. "...No matter how long you wait. You'll never have his love."
Sunoo drops the phone now. It hits the floor and he doesn't pick it up. He slides down the bathroom wall until he's on the floor, tears and blood on his face, laughing and sobbing at the same time.
He's with Jaemin.
Of course he is.
The last proverbial fuck you from the universe to him, because even at rock bottom there's always a deeper abyss waiting for him.
Funny thing is, Sunoo thinks mournfully, it is, the most logical thing in the world. His husband had never stopped loving that man. Had never started loving Sunoo. He had spent five years in a house with a person he'd been forced to marry, enduring it. Enduring him.
One month later.
Sunoo sits in the corner of the dim room, while the hours pass and the afternoon light crawls slowly across the floor. He's been there since morning, just sitting, watching the light shift, and after a while everything goes quiet and then louder when it starts to rain.
He watches the drops hit the glass.
Unchanging. Unaffected. Just falling.
An overcoming sense of tranquility swallows his last trace of sanity.
When the door beeps open, he doesn't rush to get up. Nor does he turn when the footsteps gets closer.
"Sunoo...?"
His heart lurches the way it always has.
When he finally turns, Sunghoon is standing in the entrance, still in his coat, looking across the room at him. His expression indifferent, with a hint of something else.
Sunoo looks at his face again.
The face he fell in love with at twenty-two in a room full of strangers. It's the same face. It will always be the same face.
But today it hurts too much to look. His stomach clenches, from the illness or from summoning every last bit of himself to do what he has to do, he doesn't know. He looks away.
He just watches the rain. Imagining being part of it, something that fell and pooled and left a brief, dark stain on the pavement, then dried and disappeared when the sun came out. Like he was never there at all.
"No matter how long you wait. You'll never have his love."
Sunoo had gotten used to waiting.
But now he was running out of time.
"Sunghoon, let's get a divorce."