Chapter Text
Chu Wanning looked at the child, and the child looked back at him. The train car jolted, but the boy only smiled contentedly. Chu Wanning flinched and hurriedly turned away, tightening his sweaty palm around the handrail.
What an odd child. Younger children had sometimes burst into tears at a single glance at Chu Wanning's stern face, but this one was cheerfully swinging his legs, sitting on his mother's lap, and didn't flinch in fear — on the contrary, he chirped something in his own language, tugged at the dozing woman's hair, and pointed a finger at Chu Wanning. The mother gave an apologetic smile, and Chu Wanning realized he hadn't even noticed himself staring at them again.
The boy laughed and waved at him.
Surely the child had spotted someone else in the stuffy, noisy crowd of passengers rushing to work. Chu Wanning didn't believe that anyone could give him a smile of their own free will.
Still baffled, he tried to catch his reflection in the glass. As if sensing his wish, the train entered a tunnel, and in the blackness before him, Chu Wanning saw a man at whom only a mentally disabled person would ever smile. He frowned, and the crease between his brows deepened further.
Tomorrow, he would have to go to the medical center, no matter how much he wanted to shove his problem deeper down and just live as if nothing was wrong. Jiang Xi would scold him as usual, but this time, Chu Wanning wouldn't snap back. Something terrifyingly wrong was happening to him, and no matter how much he waved it off, the situation was only getting worse. He was tormented by an oppressive heat in his body, a heightened sense of smell, and an uncharacteristic emotional softness. Yesterday, he had even said "thank you" to Xue Meng for bringing him coffee, which nearly gave his assistant a heart attack.
Up until the age of thirty-three, his self-control had never failed him, but now his clumsy omega side had decided to break free, utterly disregarding Chu Wanning's own wishes. He feared that soon, his scent blockers would stop working entirely, and his colleagues would learn of this unsightly part of him.
No, omegas had long since gained universal human rights, and there was no point in hiding, but… Nature had forgotten to give Chu Wanning a suitable appearance and character: he had turned out broad-shouldered, tall, and ugly. He was certainly not fit for the role of an omega, because proper omegas used beauty and pheromones to their fullest to snag a better alpha. He had no intention of catching pitying glances.
The train car jolted again, and Chu Wanning's damp palm slipped; he slammed his back into the chest of the passenger standing behind him. Turning around, he muttered an apology, but the disturbed man looked down at him condescendingly and slightly haughtily, though the difference in their height was barely noticeable.
Chu Wanning pressed his lips together and tried to move as far away from the man as possible. He didn't like alphas. A pile of muscles and a minimum of intellect in their eyes — what was there to expect from them? At least, that's what he repeated to himself with enviable regularity. And no, he didn't want to think that this opinion had formed only because, on the alpha radar, he was a blank spot — their instincts remained silent in Chu Wanning's presence. Had a true omega fallen into an alpha's arms, that alpha would have carried her in his arms to the nearest free seat.
But it was good that life had turned out this way, truly. Chu Wanning hardly ever had to hide: just five more years, and his biological status would be nothing more than a dry entry in his medical records.
Chu Wanning cast another furtive glance at the strange child, who was smiling with a gap-toothed mouth and wouldn't take his curious eyes off him.
Although Chu Wanning had no passionate urge to procreate, he was glad when he saw children like this, next to their parents. Women who had survived the epidemic were once again starting real families, not kept in reservations as if they were not people but breeding stock; children were no longer taken from their parents, and omegas had received the same rights as everyone else. The world had taken a step back from the precipice, and the question of repopulation was no longer so dire.
Although, thinking abstractly, children are the meaning of life for every creature on earth. It wasn't Chu Wanning who said that; it's a biological necessity embedded in every person, omega or not. A natural program.
Besides, Chu Wanning possessed a high level of intelligence, and he had things he could teach his children. His doctorate degree hadn't been given to him for his omega status, after all.
Alas, children don't appear out of thin air (which Chu Wanning somewhat regretted), and to make one, a very important component had to be procured somewhere. You know, a head taller, with tousled hair and sparks of laughter in surprisingly bright eyes.
Banging his forehead against the handrail, Chu Wanning tried to drive away the absurd fantasies. He wanted to believe that in the battle of instincts versus common sense, his reason would emerge victorious.
Yes, Chu Wanning masked his scent, but it was precisely his iron self-discipline that allowed him to live like an ordinary person. Doctors threw up their hands and said he was perfectly healthy, yet in all these years, Chu Wanning had never once entered that shameful state that drove nearby alphas crazy. And his pheromones, rigidly controlled, didn't cause narcotic intoxication, didn't force unconditional submission to commands (he didn't like alphas, that was true, but to strip a living being of its will was a crime). Before, he had been proud of himself, but now… Now Chu Wanning feared that had Huaizui lived to see this day, he would have been disappointed in his ward.
Honestly, he still hadn't decided how to feel about his late guardian. Huaizui was a genius scientist, no arguing that, for it was he who stood at the origins of Project Eden. But Chu Wanning had always considered himself one of his test subjects, not his adopted son. Even the fact that Huaizui raised him as a beta, ignoring his biological status, seemed like just another experiment. Whether that was true or not — Chu Wanning had never dared to ask. Why ask a question you don't want the answer to? Perhaps, had Huaizui been more soft-hearted, the project to create living incubators would have failed, but he had done everything necessary for progress, casting aside the emotional component of the matter.
Of course, to the whole world, those millions of men were volunteers, heroes. But Chu Wanning had read the classified reports: forty-two percent of the test subjects, whose bodies were restructured and pumped full of hormones, subsequently committed suicide. Huaizui merely gave him a lecture on necessary sacrifices and ordered him to close the matter forever.
And now, the beings born back then (alphas, omegas — essentially, a new species) were ready to reproduce, they lived for it, and the implanted genetic mutations worked for them. Chu Wanning increasingly caught himself thinking: if he were a proper omega, maybe he could have…
Sighing, he winced at his own defectiveness. Never before had Chu Wanning fallen into such despondency, but since last Saturday, his heart had occasionally been beating abnormally fast, and there was also an ache in his soul, although he had once believed the soul was just a word. But no, there was a pull in his chest, and at times, moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes just at the thought of how defective he was and completely unwanted by anyone.
A criminal thought flashed through his mind: an omega's life would be simple and straightforward — he could, without shame, offer himself to a certain someone, and if that certain someone refused such a gift… He could use his pheromones and impose his desires, even though Chu Wanning despised omegas who shamelessly used what nature had given them as a defense mechanism. Thanks to scents, they could choose those who were genetically ideal for them, those alphas worth having offspring with, and the rest were obliged to retreat, obeying commands. But over time, as procreation took a back seat, omegas, getting even for years of powerlessness, wielded their power with no regard for whether an alpha suited them or not.
"Mo Ran, because of you, I'll end up in hell," Chu Wanning murmured, then tore his burning forehead away from the handrail he'd grown attached to during this agonizing ride.
He definitely needed a doctor, if he was letting vile thoughts of suppressing another's will into his mind. Especially since the object of his musings had changed so much, and Chu Wanning didn't want to destroy his accomplishments.
No, at first, he had behaved like a typical alpha: tried to occupy the highest spot in the hierarchy, fucked everyone who agreed, and shirked work. Chu Wanning had struggled with his training for a whole year and had already decided that the only salvation was firing him, when his hopeless assistant seemed to update to Mo Ran 2.0, learned his job descriptions, and stopped letting his colleagues down.
Such a Mo Ran attacked not only his instincts but also enslaved his mind: all his thoughts now flowed in one direction. Chu Wanning grimaced, as if in pain, and tried to push the unnecessary thoughts out of his head.
Besides, his station was announced, and the train slowed down.
The Sisheng Peak Research Center, justifying its name, occupied the top floors of a high-rise, and Chu Wanning's department even had panoramic windows, thanks to the caring director (no). He tried not to get closer than two meters to the windows, especially since Mo Ran happened to sit at the "best" desk, the one with a view of the city.
And here's how it worked out: Chu Wanning didn't approach his subordinate, and the scoundrel had to be called into his office, which meant they spoke privately in his office.
A losing situation, no matter how you looked at it.
Even Chu Wanning, who had renounced base carnal desires, was led astray in Mo Ran's presence, so he didn't look him in the eye — didn't look at him at all! — breathed shallowly, sometimes lost the thread of conversation, got angry because of it, snapped, and ushered his subordinate out as quickly as possible.
Afterward, Chu Wanning would spend a minute sprawled limply, his face pressed against the cool desktop.
Ever since Mo Ran had zealously begun conquering the title of "Employee of the Year," such meetings had become more and more frequent, and Chu Wanning could barely cope. He had even started coming in early, just to work without a distracting factor.
And so Chu Wanning was walking through the empty corridors of Sisheng Peak, anticipating a peaceful morning hour…
"Chu-laoshi!"
Chu Wanning stumbled and raised his eyes. Waiting for him at his office was Mo Ran, disgustingly chipper as always, a smile on his face. He was wrapped in his familiar cocoon of sun-warmed meadow scent, and Chu Wanning just wanted to lie down and breathe deeply, soaking in his aroma.
It's nothing. Just his genes whispering, "Fuck him, and you'll have plentiful and robust offspring." But the demographic crisis in the world had long since passed, so Chu Wanning had no intention of heeding the annoying advice.
"There are still forty minutes until the workday starts," Chu Wanning said instead of a greeting, trying to sniff inconspicuously.
His condition had clearly worsened, because as soon as Mo Ran invaded his space, his instincts started whining and, with redoubled force, demanding this very Mo Ran, like capricious children begging for sweets.
"You weren't picking up your phone," Mo Ran said.
Chu Wanning took out his phone and glanced at the unfamiliar number whose calls he'd been ignoring all morning (honestly, who would call him except advertising agents?).
"Why did you call?" Chu Wanning asked.
"I urgently need time off. About five days," Mo Ran said, and hurried to explain: "I finished the calculations, sent them by email, so Xue Meng can handle the rest."
"I…" Chu Wanning stopped short. "What do you need time off for?" He had wanted to ask if he needed help, but it sounded as if he was looking for a reason not to let Mo Ran go.
Mo Ran shuffled his feet, looked away, and said:
"I worked late and crashed. Forgot to take my meds, and, well…"
Chu Wanning tore his gaze from the wall and looked at Mo Ran attentively. He noted his uneven breathing and the drops of sweat glistening at his temples, despite the morning chill. Now it became clear why Mo Ran smelled so special today, utterly destroying Chu Wanning's willpower.
"Did you take suppressants?" The words tore out before he could think. "Have you lost your mind?"
Unacceptable! It was not within his competence to ask such questions. He had no right, as a supervisor, as a person, to ask about this. But the words had already escaped his mouth, so Chu Wanning crossed his arms over his chest, pretending he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, and stared sternly at Mo Ran.
Mo Ran raised his head:
"But it's not forbidden!"
It hadn't been forbidden for about ten years, that was true. A new social paradigm: alphas and omegas are first and foremost people, not walking inseminators and incubators. But then, the medications themselves were only a little over a decade old, and their side effects were sometimes worse than what they were meant to prevent.
"Just don't laugh, Chu-laoshi," Mo Ran breathed out. "I look at you and I'm envious. You live without thinking about all this nonsense," he said, and Chu Wanning hoped the blush of shame wasn't too visible on his face. "Without pills, you become almost an animal in an instant, only thinking about who to knot. The people around you are divided into those you've already fucked, those you're going to fuck, and those who aren't suitable for fucking," Mo Ran said and grimaced.
At these words, Chu Wanning decided that tonight he would spend the night under a cold shower, driving away thoughts of being knotted by someone.
His throat went dry.
As if realizing what he had just said, Mo Ran blurted out:
"Sorry!"
Chu Wanning only waved his hand weakly.
"I want to be like Chu-laoshi, with a cold mind," Mo Ran said with a shameless frankness genetically inaccessible to Chu Wanning. "I worked a long time to get this position. And also, well… There was one incident…" he faltered, unaware that his boss knew all about his dirty history.
"Ah, an incident. So that's what he calls the catastrophe that nearly cost him his job," Chu Wanning thought, but aloud, he only said:
"A serious attitude. That's commendable and very brave."
He didn't think that his support was really needed by Mo Ran, but Chu Wanning understood him like no one else, so the words slipped out before he had thought them through. Mo Ran grew nervous at his praise, though he had already been shifting from foot to foot, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, and constantly moving his gaze from Chu Wanning's face to the gray wall and back. At the end, when Chu Wanning, flustered, squeezed out something like "keep it up," Mo Ran swallowed and said:
"I really have to go."
Chu Wanning drew a breath to let his useless subordinate leave in peace, but instead, he choked, overwhelmed by a wave of scent that seemed to cover him like a thick blanket. He immediately threw his hand out in front of him, not letting Mo Ran approach, and took a step back, pressing his back against the wall.
"It's fine. Go. I'll report your leave," Chu Wanning said hoarsely.
He had never before inhaled the scent of Mo Ran in such a state, heated and ready… Chu Wanning blinked, refocusing on his subordinate's worried face.
"Don't waste my time," Chu Wanning said with parched lips. "Get lost."
Mo Ran clenched and unclenched his fists several times, and then, as if forcing himself, turned away from his disoriented boss and hurried off down the corridor.
Feeling behind his back for the door handle, Chu Wanning yanked the searingly cold metal and stumbled into his office. Out of his mind, Chu Wanning reached his desk and collapsed into his chair. He stretched out an arm before him — his fingers were trembling. He was breathing fast, but no matter how many breaths he took, it felt as if his lungs were taking in not oxygen but explosive gas that set his insides on fire.
Thoughts were roaring in his head, but one thought was louder than the rest: Mo Ran would go home and would surely dial the number of an omega he knew on the way, just to ride out his rut with them.
Had Chu Wanning had an attractive appearance, would he have dared to offer himself? After all, to a heated alpha, it didn't really matter who was beneath him, the main thing was to get release.
Chu Wanning squeezed his eyes shut, having caught himself in seditious thoughts.
He had sunk to the very bottom, trampled everything he had achieved through discipline and renunciation of his omega instincts. How could he seriously think about such a thing?
He was overflowing with the desire to strike himself, only his hands were shaking, and the strength in them was that of a newborn.
Chu Wanning had sealed away his nature long ago and had no intention of surrendering just because the man he had fallen in love with was an alpha. But fighting this… It felt as if all he had in his hands was an old sieve, and a sea wave was bearing down on him, a wave he had to stop.
Biting his lips to sober himself up a little, Chu Wanning forced his eyes open. His wristwatch showed a quarter to nine, which meant the corridors would soon fill with employees, and colleagues would pour into his office with endless questions and problems. He needed to go wash up, maybe even hold his burning head under a stream of water, then drink some coffee and start working.
His body was shaking with the tremors running through it, his limbs barely obeying, but Chu Wanning gathered his strength and tried to stand.
Suddenly, the floor rushed toward him.
The sharp pain in his bruised knees cleared his mind a little, and Chu Wanning felt with horror that his pants were growing wet. Helplessly, he pressed his palm to his crotch, then lifted it to the light, staring in shock at his gleaming, slick fingers. Chu Wanning tried to get up, but immediately collapsed back down, feeling how, with the movement, something scorchingly hot seeped out of him.
Never in his life had he experienced anything like this, but it was hard to confuse this state with anything else. The nature he had suppressed for so long had decided to take its due.
Cursing through his teeth, Chu Wanning grabbed the edge of the table and tried to rise.
***
Smoothed out, buttoned up to the collar, hidden under a shapeless jacket, drowning in old-fashioned trousers with creases… It was as if someone had forgotten to tell Chu Wanning that no one had dressed like that for a hundred years. Not that these outfits could deceive a connoisseur of the male figure. But — oh! — how gladly Mo Ran would have admired his boss's ankles, and he would have wrapped his hands around his waist, checking if it was as slim as could be guessed beneath the layers of useless clothing.
At this point, one had to admit it was all for the best. Had Chu Wanning shown up in form-fitting clothes, the work of the entire department would have ground to a halt — and other things would have risen to the occasion, let’s be honest.
Although his boss diligently spoiled his own appearance, nothing could conceal his desperately unique beauty. For a while, Mo Ran thought that Chu Wanning dressed in that shapeless horror only for work, fully aware of the power of his attractiveness and unwilling to deal with a herd of drooling colleagues, but no. Mo Ran had quite accidentally — he was ready to swear on his brother's beloved game console — run into Chu Wanning at the supermarket on his day off, and he had been wearing the same dull outfit. As if his relaxed and sexually attractive secret version simply didn't exist.
At least, standing before the instant noodle shelves, Chu Wanning frowned exactly as he did at the morning briefing, as if the plastic containers had failed to submit their reports on time. Honestly! That was exactly how Chu Wanning usually looked at Mo Ran himself.
It turned out that even his long hair wasn't for beauty, no. Mo Ran often zoned out staring at it, examining the silky stream pulled back into a low ponytail, and thought: to wrap it around his fist and pull with such force that Chu Wanning would have no choice but to moan with his head thrown back, baring his elegant neck for bites.
At these thoughts, Mo Ran would swallow the saliva that had pooled in his mouth and try to return to reality from the land of fantasies. So, Chu Wanning was under Mo Ran's close observation, and therefore he couldn't help but notice that one day, Chu Wanning's hair had been subjected to sheer torture. The ends had been carelessly trimmed with something like a kitchen knife, and each uneven cut left phantom wounds on Mo Ran's own skin.
That was when he began to suspect that Chu Wanning avoided touch — it was clear as day that instead of going to a salon, he "evened out" his growing hair himself. And soon it became clear — no one touched Chu Wanning. At all. No friendly pats, handshakes, nothing. And he himself never even brushed a finger against his colleagues, passing documents as if he were holding a bomb about to explode.
Mo Ran decided to test Chu Wanning's boundaries. The thought that no one ever got their hands on him blew his mind, and so began an experiment lasting a year. Mo Ran unceremoniously invaded his boss's personal space, stroked the tips of his fingers when handing over coffee, bumped shoulders with him, sitting down at his desk at lunch. Chu Wanning flinched, froze, but didn't scold him, preferring to pretend nothing was happening. He didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart: Mo Ran knew how Chu Wanning could yell at his subordinates, but even his outbursts of rage had somehow stopped angering him — on the contrary, his face flushed with fury and his furrowed brows were a little amusing. Back then he thought it would be great to grab that angry little cabbage, peel off one tasteless layer after another, and then fuck him so thoroughly that Chu Wanning would instantly turn kind (because angry people are clearly missing out on something in bed).
In the end, it was he who got figuratively fucked — because Chu Wanning did not forgive mistakes and carelessness in work, and Mo Ran devoted more time to his social experiment than to his direct duties, and constantly screwed up.
He continued his carefree flirtation until a fracture occurred in his life.
Rong Jiu, a pretty beta out of his league, gave birth to the suicidal idea of spending a rut with Mo Ran. And… Mo Ran had had no idea before what kind of monster sat in the very depths of his consciousness. It was good that in the end, the investigation cleared him of all charges, because an alpha in rut was equated to a person in a state of temporary insanity.
But for Mo Ran, that night became a turning point.
The first clear thought that lit up his clouded mind, as soon as he came to and rolled off the whimpering bastard, was about what would have become of Chu Wanning if his instincts had taken over near him.
It was as if Mo Ran had been doused with ice water.
He really was something less than human — almost an animal to whom mercy was unknown. The scandal died down when Rong Jiu, fearing a countercharge, confirmed that he had gotten into the alpha's bed voluntarily. Mo Ran paid his hospital bills and attended a court-appointed therapist for six months.
All that time, he woke from nightmares in which Chu Wanning was drenched in tears and blood. It took months to shove the monster deeper down, leaving only respect and the safest feelings for his boss in his mind. He trained his wild alpha part, hoping he would be allowed to get closer to Chu Wanning.
At this thought, Mo Ran frowned. The elevator doors opened silently, and he stepped out to the underground parking lot.
Chu Wanning's behavior today had broken all records for strangeness. He had praised him! For the first time in two years of work. And Chu Wanning had looked bewildered. Even Xue Meng had noticed that something was off with the boss this past week.
Come to think of it, in all the time they had worked together, Chu Wanning had never taken a vacation or sick day. Could it be that from fatigue and constant workload, Chu Wanning's health had faltered? It seemed even his cheeks were flushed with color.
It was none of his damn business; besides, Chu Wanning was not the type to let anyone worry about him — he would sooner kick someone and send his benefactor far away. And Mo Ran himself was in no position to give anyone advice. He had so wanted to earn Chu Wanning's favor that he had worked all night, forgetting to take his suppressants.
Walking to his car, he weighed all the pros and cons, arguing with himself as he opened the door and turned the ignition key. Finally, common sense retreated under the onslaught of "I'll just ask," and Mo Ran hurried back. After all, if Chu Wanning was sick, Mo Ran was simply obliged to tattle to his uncle. Xue Zhengyong had an ace up his sleeve that allowed him to get anything he wanted from Chu Wanning.
Mo Ran didn't notice how he made the entire journey back to his boss's office and only came to when his knuckles knocked on the door.
As usual, he immediately tugged the handle, not waiting for permission to enter.
"Out!"
Mo Ran recoiled, hearing Chu Wanning's furious shout, but he didn't close the door. He froze in the doorway, staring at his trembling boss, whose slender fingers were clutching fruitlessly at the edge of the desk.
The rational part of Mo Ran begged him to step back, slam the door, and erase from his memory the image of Chu Wanning on his knees, but because of the cloud of scent filling the room, a short circuit occurred in his head, and his stupid part came to the forefront, flipping his instincts to full power.
"Can I…" He swallowed and continued hoarsely: "Help?"
His legs were barely holding him; Mo Ran wanted to fall to his knees beside Chu Wanning, bury his face in his hot skin, rub against him, soak up his scent, and then push him down onto the worn carpet and press him down so that Chu Wanning would, in return, reek of him.
If not for the intoxicating scent that screamed that Chu Wanning needed to be tied up immediately and not let out of bed for another five days, Mo Ran would indeed have decided he was sick — his face was ablaze, sweat glistened on his skin. Chu Wanning was frowning, biting his lips, his eyes were reddened, and tears had gathered in the corners.
Later, Mo Ran would wonder why his prickly boss was suddenly leaking slick and ready to take a knot, but right now, he was obliged to take care of him.
"Taking care of him doesn't mean fucking him unconscious!" Mo Ran reminded himself, carefully taking a few steps toward Chu Wanning.
"Get lost, or you'll lose your job," Chu Wanning tried to threaten, but his voice trembled, so the threat turned into a plea, which sparked a desire in Mo Ran's chest to hear how Chu Wanning would beg for real. "M-Mo Ran…" Chu Wanning began, stammering, but immediately fell silent, thrown off by a tremor running through his body.
"It's all right, Chu-laoshi," Mo Ran said, almost purring, dropping to his knees before him. "Does it hurt?"
Chu Wanning shook his head, tightened his fingers on the desktop, and tried to push himself away, just to get away from Mo Ran.
Asking is useless, Mo Ran decided. Chu Wanning wasn't exactly eloquent anyway, so "do first, apologize later" was the right tactic.
Mo Ran grabbed Chu Wanning under the arms, rising together with him from the floor. Chu Wanning's eyes flew open and he jerked, but immediately froze in fear, biting his lips and squeezing his eyes shut.
"Okay," Mo Ran said, trying not to show that he was dreaming of dropping back to his knees and licking up everything that had leaked out of Chu Wanning from the sudden jerk. "There," he added, and sat Chu Wanning on the edge of the desk, while he pulled off his hoodie and almost hugged Chu Wanning, tying the soft fabric around his hips.
Chu Wanning seemed to have forgotten how to speak, and only his gaze shifted from humiliated to furious.
"Miscalculated? Overworked too? It's too late for pills — let me call you a taxi."
"Pills?" Chu Wanning asked helplessly, and at that voice, something inside Mo Ran growled — that same deep, dark thing, that part of him that demanded to sink in claws and teeth and not let go until the prey stopped resisting.
"Were you planning a heat? Should I call your partner?"
"I need the restroom," Chu Wanning said, blushing painfully and ignoring his questions.
Mo Ran wasn't going to argue and wanted to lift Chu Wanning into his arms, but Chu Wanning hissed at him and only after a struggle allowed himself to be taken by the elbow. Mo Ran didn't lead him to the common restrooms; instead, he turned into a small corridor.
Chu Wanning glanced uncertainly at the letter "Ω" on the white door before which they stopped.
"Um... the ventilation is powerful in there, no scent will linger," Mo Ran said.
"I know that myself," Chu Wanning snapped and was about to push the door open, but Mo Ran gently pulled him along and brought him to the wall beside the entrance.
"You'll need something," he said with slight embarrassment. "Give me a minute and wait here, okay?"
Chu Wanning looked at him questioningly, but Mo Ran was already racing back to the department. At the desk, he noticed one of his coworkers — just another ten minutes and Sisheng Peak would start coming to life. Sensing time was running out, Mo Ran gutted Xue Meng's pull-out drawer, mentally promising to treat his little brother to drinks over the weekend, and hurried back to the restroom.
Chu Wanning was standing exactly where he'd left him, pressing himself against the wall with a completely lost expression, hugging himself with his arms.
Thoughts of them being caught were displaced by an entirely different one: would he manage to get his hoodie back from Chu Wanning before he washed it?
"What?.." Chu Wanning began, confused, when Mo Ran handed him his loot.
Chu Wanning mechanically tightened his fingers on the crinkling package and looked at him with incomprehension.
"Swiped it from Xue Meng," Mo Ran said, staring somewhere at the ceiling. "I'll return it later, he won't even notice."
Chu Wanning stared in horror at the pack in his hands.
"Uh, I think the slick will only get stronger, so you'll need this..."
"I get it!" he blurted out.
"Is there someone you can call?" Mo Ran asked again.
"Huh? What did you say?" Chu Wanning mumbled, tearing his bewildered gaze from his clenched palm.
"Nothing," Mo Ran swallowed. "I could..." He faltered, "give you a ride."
Chu Wanning nodded absently and, on trembling legs, went inside, clutching the door.
Knowing Chu Wanning, Mo Ran had about five minutes, no more, and he wasn't going to waste them. Almost running to the opposite end of the corridor, he barged into the room designated specifically for alphas.
Inside, it was noticeably colder than in the corridor; the exhaust fans, running at full power, hummed lowly, and the air smelled only of cleaning agents — not a single molecule of a rival's scent. Mo Ran leaned on the edge of the sink, releasing with each hoarse exhale what had been boiling inside him for the last few minutes. For Chu Wanning's sake, Mo Ran had been suppressing his beastly nature, wanting to prove that he wasn't just a set of alpha genes driven by pheromones.
He had lost.
Lifting his face to the mirror, Mo Ran was almost frightened, seeing the animal hunger in his eyes. Although the stream of harsh chemical smells washed away the echoes of that scent that drove his instincts mad and strained at the leash, this hunger had no intention of subsiding.
Mo Ran pulled his right hand away from the sink and brought it to his nose, pressing it into his hot skin.
The imprint of the scent was still there, and it smelled dizzying.
Mo Ran opened his mouth slightly and squeezed his eyes shut, childishly counting on the fact that if he didn't see his fall, it would be as if it hadn't happened. But as soon as the ghost of the scent from his palm touched his tongue, his consciousness finally blurred: he sucked and licked the fingers with which he had touched Chu Wanning, and imagined that he was touching not his own hand, but kissing the owner of the scent, touching his neck, chest, cock. Hell, to take it down to the very throat and suck until Chu Wanning began to beg him, emptied and unable to come anymore.
Mo Ran had never complained about shooting too fast, but no sooner had he reached his left hand to his fly, unzipping it, than he immediately spent, barely squeezing his palm around his cock.
The sharp smell of semen was washed away by a wave of fresh air.
***
Chu Wanning hadn't thought that a person could endure such endless humiliation.
He clicked the lock on the door and bent over the sink, still clutching the pack of hygiene supplies Mo Ran had given him. Damn it! He'd have to shove this inside himself, otherwise even the hoodie around his hips wouldn't help.
Chu Wanning untied the sleeves that had been knotted together and brought the crumpled fabric to his face. Never before had he been able to smell Mo Ran's scent this close, and even the sharp stench of disinfectants couldn't completely erase the aroma inherent to him alone…
Chu Wanning's eyes flew open in fright.
How much time had passed? He didn't remember squeezing his eyes shut, rubbing his face against Mo Ran's hoodie. Added to the stickiness between his legs was a painfully hard erection, and with a helpless growl, Chu Wanning crumpled and tossed aside the flannel temptation. Trying not to touch his shamelessly hard cock, he pulled down his soaked trousers and unrolled a roll of paper towels, wiping the slippery mess between his legs.
For the next minute, he tried unsuccessfully to plug the leaking hole, but the harder he pressed that torture device inside, the tighter he clenched, and finally, he exhaled heavily, pressing his forehead against his crossed arms.
A hopeless failure.
And he had dared to fantasize about Mo Ran's knot. Grabbing the hoodie lying on the sink, he pulled it toward himself, burying his nose in it, filling himself with the soothing scent of freshly cut grass. But after the first breaths, his calm wavered, and the cock that had gone soft from the vile manipulations began to harden.
"Fuck," Chu Wanning whispered, moving his hand behind his back.
His stupid body relaxed, anticipating penetration, and a gentle push was enough to plug the slippery passage all the way.
Trying not to think about how a cock feels inside, Chu Wanning tossed his completely soaked underwear into the trash and pulled on his damp trousers. The exhaust was running at full power, so he could have jerked off without any fear, but Chu Wanning had no right to. No.
Instead, he washed his face with cold water, still clinging to the sink to avoid falling, and once again tied the hoodie around his hips.
Had Chu Wanning been a sensible person, he would have asked Mo Ran to call Xue Zhengyong — let a level-headed beta drive him home, not an alpha who was about to go into rut. But Mo Ran looked so calm, as if Chu Wanning smelled to him like an ordinary person, not an omega in heat. This wounded him, angered him, and, like a masochist, he chose to suffer from someone else's closeness, just so Mo Ran would pay him attention.
What foolish carelessness.