Chapter Text
It lingered in his head.
[im_ovation]: guys im gonna be mia for a couple of days
“What’s wrong with Yeosang hyung?” he tried to ask Mingi in the most nonchalant way he thought he could pull off. He asked even though he knew the answer. He could smell it on him for days, scent locked and delirious, pushing away thoughts like maybe if I stole his jacket he wouldn’t notice-
“Oh, he’s going through his rut, probably? I saw him filling out papers and stuff for it yesterday,” Mingi answered, stuffing his mouth full of cafeteria kimchi jjigae, nonchalant, so nonchalant, the way a friend would be about a friend.
“Good thing he lives alone, it’s so uncomfortable being in a shared house when you’re going through something like that,” Yunho chimed in from across them which earned him an eye roll from Hongjoong.
“Hey, it’s uncomfortable for your roommates too, you know?”
“Oh you have no place to talk, what you and Seonghwa hyung get up to-”
Jongho stared at the food in front of him, his chopsticks lowered, suddenly without an appetite. He had to focus on something else quick, before his scent changed because he couldn’t get the image of Yeosang naked, writhing, locked up in his apartment in a rut out of his mind-
“Hey, are you coming to the library? Jongho? Jongho-ya?” Mingi waved a hand in front of his face, confused, laughing. “Hey, I’ve never seen you that checked out before-”
“Oh, no, uh, I’ve got some work at home. I’ll actually get going now-”
He got up taking his bag in a hurry, lifting his food tray.
“Hey, where are you going? What’s up with him?” he heard his friends grumble behind him as he rushed out of the crowded space.
He got home in a daze and splashed some water on his face, counting his breaths. This shouldn’t have mattered this much, it shouldn’t have affected him this much. God damn that day he had his music history class and he bumped into Yeosang on the way because he was staring at his phone and his nose had brushed his scent gland and-
Well, it was only a couple days ago. They were good friends but they weren’t close enough for Jongho to ask: “hey, are you going into your rut? Because all of a sudden you smell like something I want to bite down on, like a food craving that won’t go away.” It had taken a while for Yeosang to grow close to him anyway, both of them being a little introverted.
He was pretty used to his friends' scents. Aside from being an omega, he had a sort of sensitive nose in general. He had never in his life felt such a pull to someone’s scent, like it was a fog in his brain that made him unable to think of anything else. He knew about scent locking, but it had never happened to him. It barely ever happened to people. They would use it in romance stories, where an alpha would scent lock onto an omega and not be able to get them out of their mind, half-feral and wanting. He groaned and splashed his face with water again. How was it even possible that this happened to him in barely a second when they were close? Ever since the incident, his awareness of Yeosang’s scent had doubled, tripled, he found himself thinking things like oh, he smells like flowers, or earth after rainfall, or clean mountain air, like bay leaves and blueberry bushes-
Alright, well, I just need to jerk off and get over it. Right?
Wrong. He had certainly tried and it did not help. It just added to the embarrassment he felt when he saw Yeosang. The need he felt wasn’t just sexual. He felt like he was a gravitational center and Jongho was being pulled towards it, like a solid metal ball on a blanket and Jongho was a single marble falling down and down, like the fabric of spacetime and heavenly bodies-
This was officially going too far. He simply needed a little bit of time. He would get over it. Eventually. Time heals all, does it not?
Two days passed- two nights of Jongho’s dreams being filled with pulls and pushes, skin against skin, mountain air around them, his heart dropping when he realised he had nearly fallen off of a cliff. He was so frustrated that he was on the verge of tears all the time. It was genuinely upsetting. He wished just jerking off would solve the problem. He kept avoiding his friends, just in case he smelled weird, or they could tell on his face that he was checked out of reality. He stayed up until 2 AM googling wonderful questions such as scent locked what do i do and how to make scent lock go away and scent locking ruining my life??
All the answers he saw was to keep busy, let time take it away, do rigorous physical activity, and some ads for some sort of scam of a scent therapy. He didn’t even want to know what that involved. He had also seen a post along the lines of:
r/alpha_advice
Scent locked, how to solve
Hello, I (29A) have scent locked onto an omega (27) at my workplace. It is driving me insane and genuinely affecting my life. Her and I are not even close like that, what do I do
↳ that shit is not real bro, stop watching dramas
↳ just ask her out. the worse that could happen is she rejects you
↳ yeah. then they would unlock the special achievement of [emergency meeting with HR]
↳ start hitting the gym. its the only thing that had helped me.
So, he started spending hours in the gym, lifting weights, doing cardio and running until he felt his body give way, so that he could sleep comfortably, no dreams interrupting him.
But between working out and sleep? All of his brain power was still reserved to thinking about Kang Yeosang, wondering what he was doing, his hand going to his phone, opening his chatbox with the man that barely had any texts in it, then closing it, embarrassed to his core.
On the third morning, when he woke up with his muscles aching, heavy weight on his chest, right on top of his lungs, like a giant hole was being dug into his chest cavity, he felt he had had enough. The delirium of overtiring his body, his nerves constantly alert as if he was being chased by an animal and the constant pain in his heart clouded his judgement enough for him to have a half hearted breakfast and make his way down to Yeosang’s apartment.
He had been here in this corridor very occasionally and always with friends, when pregaming for parties, to play console games or a movie night. He adjusted the box in his hands and took two more steps.
He was immediately hit with Yeosang’s scent, emanating from the door like he was right behind it, which was not plausible, Jongho was fucking hallucinating, he must have been because the effect it had on him was like heroin directly injected into his veins. That clean smell of his skin surrounded Jongho’s senses, yanking him closer, firing a line straight from his lungs to his abdomen, spreading like wildfire. He stared at the box of candies and snacks and medicine (why had he packed medicine?) and immune and energy boosters in his hand and almost started cry-laughing at the absurdity of his actions right now. A gift basket for a rut. Right. He tried to forget the look in the pharmacist’s eye when she asked whether he was buying these as a presentation gift and Jongho had said no.
He cleared his throat, adjusted his t-shirt and prayed to whatever god was out there to not embarrass him. As if this entire situation isn’t embarrassing.
He knocked on the door timidly. No answer came. He suddenly realised he had not thought about what he would actually say. He had sort of assumed he would just run back to his house as soon as the door was in his sight. Instead the scent emanating from inside had planted his feet firmly on the ground. He felt like he could cry. He felt like he could start begging any second to be let in.
“H-hyung? Yeosangie hyung?”
It felt weird. He barely ever called Yeosang ‘hyung’. He barely ever called any of his friends ‘hyung’. They were only one or two years apart, after all. You’re overthinking this.
“Hyung, it’s me, Jongho. I just- uh, wanted to check up on you.”
He shifted on his feet. He hoped he didn’t sound as awkward as he felt. It could be normal, right, to check up on a friend when they said they would be away for a little bit? Maybe Jongho didn’t even know about the rut, just thought he caught a cold or something. He heard his blood rush in his ears, his cheeks surely red from embarrassment. Then the realization hit him; what if Yeosang was sleeping? What if he was indisposed? Why had he come without texting him first? What if he had someone to help him in there?
That made him pause. Yeosang was certainly popular on campus. Even though he would’ve known if he had a partner, what if he had sought someone out just for his rut? What if there was someone in there, close, touching him, scenting him-
No, I would’ve smelled another person. It’s just his scent. Right? Just him. Just alpha-
The door opened right as Jongho was aggressively sniffing the air. He stopped and tried to play it off as if he was just taking a deep breath.
Yeosang looked at Jongho through a small crack in the door, his scent suddenly flooding into Jongho’s brain, almost making him moan, erotic and dense and heavy in a way Jongho couldn’t believe.
“Oh, Jongho-ya, what are you doing here?”
Jongho just stared at him, at his stupidly beautiful statue-esque face and tried not to have his knees buckle. He hadn’t finished a single thought since the door had opened.
“Look, it’s really not a good idea for you to be here. We’ll talk later, hm?”
As Yeosang went to close the door, Jongho stopped him with his foot in between the door.
“I, uh, I brought you some stuff. So you can recover?” His voice cracked on the last syllable. He kept staring Yeosang in the eye. He wanted to take his eyes away so badly (he wanted to take himself away so badly). Yeosang’s scent had crowded the corridor and to his shock and embarrassment, his own scent, clearly turned on and aching, lingered in the air. Why had he not worn scent blockers?
Yeosang visibly gritted his teeth. It was the first time Jongho saw Yeosang do that. He was usually very easy going, his head was a bit in the clouds, but he was never angry, even when it was deserved. He had a loose black t-shirt on, worn inside out, and some sleep shorts. His hair was messy, his lips ripped and red and dry. He had never seen Yeosang’s lips dry before, he realized, Yeosang was always so careful with his self-care-
“Jongho. You need to leave.”
There was a warning in his voice Jongho had never heard before, his deep voice reverberating and resonating in Jongho’s head, in his chest. Jongho clenched his teeth in an effort to distract his body, his lower abdomen from that. He was losing the staring contest they had apparently just started.
“I just- are you doing okay? Are- are you sick? You just disappeared, so I was a little worried, you know, as a friend-”
“Jongho. Don’t play dumb with me right now. I can literally smell you.”
Jongho laughed incredulously, clenching the box in his hands. What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing-
“Ah, hyung! What do you mean? You know you’re being so mean to your dongsaeng who was just worried about you.”
Yeosang suddenly yanked the box from his hand and the movement caused Jongho to smell even more of his scent, dizzying, and oh god, he had started leaking slowly.
“Thank you for the gift. Now go. We’ll talk later.”
Yeosang went to close the door again and the thought of losing sight of the man made Jongho’s heart panic like it never had before, his breath caught in his throat, desperation making him kneel. Well, more like his knees had just naturally buckled.
“Hyung, please, let me inside.”
Yeosang stared down at him, beautiful and built, with an incredulous look on his face, gulping. He seemed to suddenly realize they were in a semi-public space and looked around to the corridor, then opened the door wider.
“Okay, fine, come in.”
Jongho stood up with his hand on the wall and stepped inside, Yeosang closing the door behind him and immediately walking as far away as possible, to his kitchen’s door.
“Alright, what is it?” he asked, walking around to open the windows, putting the box on his dining table, his baggy t-shirt riding up to show his bulge and Jongho felt himself salivate.
The scent was literally all around him in the apartment, clinging onto the sofa, the walls, his sinuses and veins. It made him want to cry from relief, finally smelling it in real life and not just hallucinating it like a crazy person. Lots of things made him want to cry lately.
“Jongho.”
The voice, the authority in it, the irritation and the impatience in it, snapped Jongho out of it and made him stand taller.
“I was just worried about you!”
Yeosang did not look pleased. It was the first time Jongho actually saw Yeosang displeased. Sometimes he looked upset, yes, when he got bad notes, or his face would stand still with concentration sometimes, his brows furrowed or he would get lost in his thoughts and doze out, but he had never looked displeased before.
He huffed out a breath and swiped a hand over his face, his hand on his hips like he couldn’t believe the reality he was in right now.
“Look, you truly need to tell me why the fuck you’re here or leave, because, since you won’t acknowledge it, I’m in my rut right now Jongho. And your scent is not helping the matters.”
Yeosang crossed his arms and leaned on the doorway of his kitchen, turning his head to take a breath from in there, wind blowing in from the wide open window.
Jongho stared at Yeosang, pissed off, seeing him angry for the first time in his life, and tried not to fall on his knees again. It was disorienting, hearing Yeosang curse. He blinked and looked around the apartment rapid fire, trying to distract himself.
“Look, I’m sorry, this was a mistake. I’ll just- I’ll go,” he murmured, his scent clearly peaking a bit acrid, unhappy and rejected. He wished for the hundredth time that he had put on scent blockers.
He went to open the door, his muscles weak, a ringing in his head. What had he thought would happen? What had he expected? Why had he acted on instinct with no forethought, it was so unlike him. He wanted to cry so badly, feeling like he was under a curse that would not go away.
His body must have surely been possessed when, instead of turning the door handle, he turned around and asked;
“Please let me scent you. Hyung, please.”
He felt so dumb, standing there, trembling, all of his emotions filling the room in his scent, so easy to pick out, near actual tears because Yeosang was right there, existing, and Jongho wasn’t touching him.
“What?”
“Please, hyung, then I’ll leave. Please let me scent you, you- you don’t know-”
What? He doesn’t know what? That you scent locked onto him because you brushed by him once, like a fucking creep?
Yeosang stared at him, eyebrows raised in bewilderment.
“A-alright, fine, just, don’t cry,” Yeosang took a step towards him, then another, “my nerves are already fried, I don’t think I can handle your scent like that.”
Jongho tried his best not to tackle Yeosang down at that very moment, and took two quiet steps, then noticed his shoes were on.
“Oh, uh, sorry. Shoes.”
He leant down to take them off, all of his muscles protesting, his underwear uncomfortable, and he suddenly found himself very aware of his own body, aching and leaking and with no strength. He was so wet that just moving around made everything stick to each other. He felt disgusting. When he stood back up Yeosang was next to him, clearly trying his best not to take breaths too deep. He supported Jongho up by his arm, clearly concerned and still a bit bewildered at him. He stared him in the eyes again, searching for something. He guided him to the sofa and sat next to him, analyzing Jongho like he was analyzing an interesting bug.
He leaned down, slowly, as if Jongho was an animal he was scared to upset, and brought his nose to his scent gland, brushing lightly. The touch pushed Jongho’s body like he had been poked with a hot iron, and he buried his nose deep into Yeosang’s neck.
The scent, usually clean and cold and sharp, always easy to pick out once you noticed it, had gained a heady quality, warm and cloying like a warm breath, like a really warm summer breeze, carrying over humidity and heat. He smelled like sex.
He brushed his nose repeatedly on his scent gland, trying his best to control himself so he didn’t kiss or lick it like he wanted to, bite down like he wanted to ever since that day. He felt a rumble in his chest reverberating against his sternum, deep and feral, and realized he was purring very loudly. He didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed. He tucked his face into Yeosang’s neck, then moved closer so that their scent glands would be touching, nuzzling into him like a cat, their scents mixing into a nice harmony between them.
“Jongho-yah,” Yeosang murmured against his nape, his warm breath causing him to shiver head to toe, goosebumps hurting the skin on his legs. He panted once against Yeosang’s skin in response, his body and his nerves finally, finally happy.
“Jongho-yah, you- wait,” Yeosang tried again, pulling away from him slowly, breathing hard, exhaling fast from his nose. “You need to leave, or else there’s no way I can stop myself any longer. Alright? Please, go.”
The background noise of his purring died down as he stared at the man, dazed, his instincts stopping all rational thought in his brain.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Yeosang looked at him surprised, again, eyebrows raised. He grabbed Jongho by his arms, looking into his eyes like he was looking for an answer.
“Have you ever helped with a rut before? Do you know what it’s like?”
Jongho willed his brain to work once again, trying not to just fall head first onto Yeosang’s chest just to feel the warmth of his skin. “No, but how different could it be from a heat?” he asked drowsily, as if he was the one who was currently experiencing a biologically mandated mating cycle and not Yeosang.
“No, Jongho, look,” Yeosang growled deep in his throat and it made Jongho’s stomach do a little flip. “You don’t know what it’s like, and I could really hurt you- no, don’t give me that look-”
Jongho raised his eyebrows in denial. “What look?”
“Like you’d enjoy it. Look, I don’t know where this is coming from, and I’m flattered for your attention, but if you don’t leave in the next five minutes I might actually start biting you. Alright? Now be a good dongsaeng, please.”
Jongho realized this was the first time Yeosang had actually acted like a hyung to him, trying to exercise his authority, and it wore on him like an ill-fitting hand me down. Jongho laughed.
“Oh, you’re my big strong hyung now? I gotta listen to your word?” He kept giggling, the easing of his nerves feeling like a fifteen ton weight had been lifted from his chest, like he could float up to the ceiling.
“Jongho! Can you please- there’s so much to think about. You didn’t let anyone know you’d be helping me, hell, does anyone know what’s going on?” Jongho attempted to get closer to him, which made Yeosang slowly lower his hands from the side of his arms to his wrists, pushing him away, almost pinning him down on the couch. “You’re gonna miss classes. And I- my last couple of days are always the worst. I really might lose myself. What if I end up biting you, or not hearing you, or hurting you in some way? Jongho, please, you’ve gotta go and stop making me try to be rational while I-” he stopped to take a breath and look down, “while I’m in my rut and there’s an omega begging for me to fuck him.”
“Begging is a bit of a strong word-”
Yeosang stared at him like you would a child at the end of your patience.
“Alright, look, it would be a win-win situation. You’d get help for your rut and my scent locking thing would go away.”
Yeosang raised his body up and stared at him in shock. “Scent locking thing? You’re scent locked onto someone?”
Jongho shut his eyes in embarrassment and huffed out.
“You’re scent locked onto me? Since when?”
Jongho grumbled. “Can we not talk about it? It’s embarrassing enough as it is, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Yeosang growled and tackled him down onto the couch pillows, grabbing him around his torso and running his hands through his hair, from his nape up to the crown of his head, gripping hard, nose buried into his scent gland, growling so hard it was echoing in Jongho’s chest. Something archaic, something feral in Jongho felt so satisfied.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on, omega, or I’m going to kick you out.”
Jongho laughed again, the feeling of Yeosang’s body weight on top of him gratifying. His deep voice reverberated in his chest cavity and sent a sharp tingle down Jongho’s spine. He wanted to buck his hips up.
“It sure doesn’t feel like that.”
Yeosang growled again and it made Jongho giggle in delight. Later, he realized, he would think about all this, psychoanalyze it to death and also be paralyzed from embarrassment but that was for later.
“Give me one good reason not to fuck the answer out of you.”
Yeosang raised his head up and locked eyes with Jongho again, daring him to speak. Jongho thought he could have been intimidated if he didn’t know what Yeosang was usually like.
“Don’t think that will work, but I also have no reasons to give you. Maybe that’s a reason-”
Yeosang leaned down to nip at Jongho’s scent gland, his canines barely catching the skin, licking a wet stripe over it. Jongho answered with a shriek he did not know he could produce and closed his mouth with his hand in surprise.
Yeosang kissed down from his neck to his collarbone, nipping, catching his skin between his teeth lightly along the way. His scent soared and wrapped around the two of them like a thick warm blanket.
He suddenly leant down to push Jongho’s t-shirt up with his nose, scenting, his hands suddenly gripping his waist.
“I’m going to knot you, you realize that, right? Have you ever been knotted before?” Just as Jongho was about to open his mouth to answer, Yeosang perked up, “actually don’t answer that, it might drive me mad.”
Jongho laughed instead, Yeosang’s nose on his stomach tickling. Yeosang started to undo his belt and his pants, hands uncoordinated and hurried.
“Yeosangie hyung, you’re rushing,” he teased, then wondered where the hell this bratty voice was coming from within him.
“Oh, now I’m hyung?” Yeosang murmured as he took off Jongho’s clothing in one swoop, Jongho suddenly feeling extremely naked in comparison. He tried to pull his legs up to cover himself but with Yeosang in the way it did not help.
His smell, the smell of his slick, of skin and sweat wafted in the air. He felt his cheeks go red. Yeosang, for his part, growled deep in his chest, staring at where his slick was leaking and dripping like it was the tastiest thing he’d ever seen.
“I’ll- make a mess on the couch,” Jongho attempted to say, ashamed at how much his body gave away.
“You’re dripping,” Yeosang whined in shock as he stared, way too clothed for Jongho’s liking. “You’re dripping like you’ve been fucked open just from my scent?”
Jongho wished the couch would open and swallow him whole right now, send him down to hell, forever blueballed. Well maybe not wished for it, but definitely thought about it.
“I- I told you- I don’t wanna-”
“Do you usually slick so much? Holy shit Jongho. I’ve helped omegas through heats and haven’t seen anyone this….”
Jongho did not want him to finish the thought.
“Can you stop staring at my ass and just do something? Aren’t you in your rut? What kind of alpha just stands there-”
Yeosang ran a hand through his cheeks, gathering the slick, and slipped a finger inside of him. Jongho groaned deep from his esophagus and covered his face with his hand.
Yeosang did not spend too much time before he entered another finger, fucking him open fast and rough, like he didn’t care much for Jongho’s wellbeing. He certainly didn’t have to. Jongho was opening up like it was nothing.
“Look at you, you’re just ready to be ran through,” he drawled, his tone as if he was simply stating an interesting fact. Jongho felt more of his slick leak out and tried to close his legs, his calves wrapping around Yeosang’s arm. He tried to push Yeosang away with his hands but from this position all he could do was hold onto his muscular forearm.
He felt heat bloom on his chest and on his cheeks and he knew he was red all over, blushing to all hell.
“Yeosang-ah, please, just get on with it,” he whined, squeezing his eyes closed behind his hands, the wet sounds of Yeosang’s fingers entering and exiting his hole ringing in his ears. God, there was so much slick it sounded like playing with wet soap. He did not usually slick this much, his chest bloomed warm with shame again. “And- the couch-”
Yeosang leant down all of a sudden, pulling his hand out, pushing Jongho’s arms away from his face and pinning them down above his head. In a couple swift motions he pushed Jongho’s t-shirt up so it bunched up above his chest, pulled himself out of his sleep pants (was he not wearing underwear under it? Jongho couldn’t tell) and lined himself up with Jongho’s body. His index and middle fingers grew cold and wet on Jongho’s forearm, still pinning him down.
He entered Jongho in one motion, Jongho’s breath caught in his throat, choking as he tried to breathe. He didn’t even see how big Yeosang was but he was so fucking full all of a sudden. Yeosang licked a big stripe on his neck, nosing at his scent gland as he started thrusting in short strokes, barely giving him any space to breathe. Jongho felt panic rise in his throat at the sudden intrusion but what was worse was how well his body was taking it, as if he had been preparing to be in this exact position for the past five days.
Yeosang buried his face in his neck, grunting and groaning, no more teasing Jongho, just taking from him what he needed. Jongho’s dick strained with pressure, leaking warmly on his stomach.
“Take- hah, your clothes off,” Jongho tried to wiggle out of the grip on his wrists, and he should have been able to easily, but not while he was being fucked like this. Yeosang, right next to his ear, growled in his low voice;
“Stand. Still.”
He then pulled out of Jongho almost completely, just to slam back into him, panting on his neck. Jongho’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, everything out of focus, his breath coming out in short ah ah ahs just to dissolve into nothing into the air.
“Knot, hmph,” Yeosang groaned, licking and kissing Jongho’s scent gland again, like he was so out of it, and the only thing he knew how to do was buck into Jongho. Jongho felt it, the base of his dick getting wider slowly, stretching him more and more with every thrust.
“You’re so wet maybe it’ll just slip out,” Yeosang murmured, so nonchalant, like it could actually happen. Jongho groaned angrily, finally actually using his strength to get out of Yeosang’s grip, pushing him up in the process, just to slap him on the chest. He left a red mark. Having straightened up, Yeosang used this angle to thrust into Jongho shorter and faster, his eyes closed, his jaw open in a state of his bliss, still looking beautiful, even deep in his rut, sweaty and tired. Jongho clung onto Yeosang from his shoulder, trying to get out words;
“Stop- ahh, hah, being- mean.”
Yeosang suddenly gripped his thighs and pushed them down next to his chest, slamming into Jongho, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. The sudden change in angle meant Yeosang kept brushing his prostate, and Jongho tried to arch his back in surprise, but Yeosang was pushing down on him with all his body weight so he ended up twitching in place instead. He seemed like he had lost all control, just animal instinct as he took and took.
He tried to say something, his words just coming out “Yeo- ah! Yeosang-aaah,” so he shut his mouth, biting his lip. He whined, high pitched (since when did he make these sounds?) and clung onto Yeosang, then his orgasm hit him, like a match to gasoline, suddenly set afire, his muscles twitching under Yeosang’s grip, his cum splattered on his stomach between their bodies.
Yeosang leant down, letting go of Jongho’s thighs and gripping him by the waist and hair instead, thrusting deep until his knot was seated inside of him, filling him with warmth and cum, still bucking his hips in as if he could move. He was panting next to Jongho’s scent gland, every breath making him shiver in overstimulation. He still hadn’t stopped pumping when he opened his mouth wide and bit down on his neck, hard and aching, causing a tear to fall down Jongho’s eye from the overstimulation, clinging onto his back lightly. His teeth found purchase on his skin like they were meant to be there. He let go of the bite once he had stopped cumming, licking and nuzzling it, still holding onto Jongho like he might escape, like he was something precious.
Jongho realized, once their panting died down, that his chest was vibrating again with a purr, and it made him so embarrassed that he tried to turn his head away, take deep breaths so it would stop, but in Yeosang’s grip he couldn’t move and his satisfied body kept on purring.
“Are you that happy?” Yeosang nuzzled into Jongho’s neck, leaving kisses, until he realized something and moved his head up to look Jongho in the eye. “Oh, God. Jongho, I bit you. I’m so sorry, oh fuck. I’m so- are you okay?”
Jongho heard his purr rumble around the two of them and wondered what the fuck Yeosang was talking about. “I’m fine,” his voice cut through his purring weirdly, so that it sounded more like “I’m rrrrr finerrrrr.”
He had hit his limit on how embarrassed he could be today.
“I’m so sorry,” Yeosang leaned down to kiss under Jongho’s eye where his tear had fallen down, peppering his face with kisses. “Please, forgive me.”
“It’s fine, it’ll fade,” Jongho murmured between his purrs. “Just stop moving around.”
Yeosang huffed and settled his face in Jongho’s neck again, nuzzling into the bite mark like he wasn’t apologising for it a minute ago. The stillness made Jongho physically aware of Yeosang’s knot lodged inside of him, so big and filling, that he was unsure if it would ever go down. He was so sore and his nerves were rubbed down so raw that he barely registered anything around him except for Yeosang and his scent, his dizzying scent.
He nuzzled into Yeosang’s scent gland, nosing at it and kissing it, satisfied in a way he hadn’t felt in days. He grabbed Yeosang by his head and pushed him down to scent him again, their scent glands rubbing against each other, feral and happy.
“When?” Yeosang murmured drowsily and Jongho barely heard him over his own purrs. “Hm?” he asked languidly.
“When did you scent lock onto me?”
Jongho’s purrs came to a halt. He kept nuzzling into Yeosang’s neck because he couldn’t help himself but he felt much more awake all of a sudden.
“Ah, hyung,” he whined, “does it matter?”
Yeosang looked up at him, his birthmark in full view between the sweaty strands of his hair, making Jongho wonder again how he could be this beautiful. Yeosang suddenly grabbed the t-shirt bunched around Jongho’s chest and took it off in one motion, now Jongho completely naked in contrast to Yeosang. “Come on,” he pushed his nose into the skin right below his jawline, like a puppy. “I’ve gotta know.”
Jongho sighed dramatically. “Your knot is in me right now, isn’t that enough- ah!”
Yeosang moved his hips and his knot moved in deeper slightly with a wet squish sound. His nerves were so abused that it made him full body shiver, head to toe, clutching onto Yeosang’s big arms, digging his nails in just to get a point across. He tried to glare at Yeosang best he could. Yeosang giggled. “Tell me. I told you I’d get the answer out of you.”
“And I told you I wouldn’t- hnng- ah,” Yeosang moved inside him again and Jongho clutched onto him again, like he was a lifeline, as if he could stop Yeosang from moving with pure strength.
Yeosang continued giggling, “that hurts.”
“If you move one more time, I swear to god-”
Yeosang, predictably, did move again. Jongho wondered why he wasn’t overstimulated, trying his best to not moan uncomfortably. He arched his back in pain, then hugged Yeosang close, gripping his legs around his hips, flipping their bodies over with a big breath. He fell into Yeosang’s lap, sitting right on his knot, and the change in angle somehow brushed his prostate again. He curled up in Yeosang’s lap in pain. It was like hitting your elbow on a corner, except it burned across his stomach in a weird mix of pleasure and overstimulation. Yeosang at least seemed a bit disheveled from the sudden change, his brows furrowed, his hair a mess. He trailed a hand up Jongho’s thigh, gripping his waist right above his hipbone and groaned. Jongho arched his back at the touch, his dick half hard, unsure if he had found himself in an even more compromising position. He forced Yeosang’s t-shirt off too, marveling at the expense of his skin, built from all his time spent in the gym, lean and muscular.
He looked down to see Yeosang’s dick bulge his stomach slightly and he lost any anger he had at seeing it. A feeling of wonder and disbelief guided his hand as he trailed over his stomach, eyes wide, palming at it lightly.
“That’s- that’s you?”
Yeosang looked delighted at Jongho’s reaction, laughing lightly and covering his mouth with his hand, breaking eye contact with Jongho like he often did. It was such a normal Yeosang reaction that Jongho forgot for a second that he was actively sitting on his knot.
Yeosang suddenly sat up, leaving a small peck on his nose then on his lips, affection in his eyes, sunlight streaming through the half open blinds on the windows, illuminating him like a halo, and Jongho felt his heart skip a beat.
He nuzzled his nose into his cheek and Jongho suddenly felt so surrounded by him, Yeosang in all of his five senses. His heart swelled with something he was not yet ready to feel.
Yeosang gripped his waist again and moved him around, leaning down behind him to finally take off his shorts as well, Jongho off balance with how squished his legs were on the couch. Jongho just dropped his head to his shoulder and took a deep breath.
“How are you not overstimulated?” Jongho panted out a question, his body coiled in anticipation of any move he might make.
“I’ve been overstimulated for the past three days,” he laughed out and Jongho’s brain once again provided him fantasies of Yeosang curled up in his bed, fucking his fist. Yeosang leaned down to his scent gland. “Why won’t you tell me?” he whined out. “You even have my bite on you now.” He prodded the mark with his fingertips to make a point. Jongho felt a bruising ache travel from the bite mark up to his ear. He moved his head to the side to reveal more of it, realizing in his hind-brain that it was a sign of submission.
“It’s a matter of pride now,” Jongho responded as calmly and collected as he could. He straightened up so their chests were touching, all sticky and wet with fluids, and pressed his bite mark on Yeosang’s scent gland so it would have his scent on it.
Yeosang trailed his fingers across his back, seemingly lost in thought. He trailed his hand down to his lap and brushed his fingers against Jongho’s cock.
“You’re hard again.”
He stated it as a simple fact as he wrapped his fingers around it lightly, causing Jongho to groan out in displeasure.
“No- Yeosang-ah- I’m too- no, it’s too much,” Jongho pulled his hand away, gripping his wrist as tight as he could. Yeosang stared at him from under his brows, his jaw set in concentration. He twisted his hand away from Jongho’s grip and wrapped it around his dick.
“I want you to come on my knot.”
He licked his hand and wrapped it around him again, lightly grazing the tip, barely moving it up and down, more like squeezing it open and close, just to see how much Jongho could take. Jongho tried to thrash around, but his legs were locked in the sitting position he was in, and he couldn’t move away from his lap, so he pushed Yeosang’s chest back down instead, hoping he could pin his hands away.
“No- stop that! I’m- ohh my god,” he whined, Yeosang playing with his tip softer and softer as Jongho tried to pull his hand away, now his other hand wrapped around the shaft, moving his precum and Yeosang’s spit around.
“Would it work if I fucked you on every surface in this house? Would you tell me then?”
Jongho did not know why his impeccable grip strength was now failing him, but it might have had to do with how tired he was. He gave up at last, gripping the side of the couch with one hand and trying to stay up with the other hand supporting him on Yeosang’s chest. He felt himself leak more and more precum and wondered what it was about Yeosang that made his body react like this. Yeosang twirled his palm around his tip and the wetness made a squish sound.
“Yeosang-ah, please,” he felt tears prick his eyes again, genuinely feeling like he was caught between a rock and a hard place, nowhere to move, having to take all of Yeosang’s ministrations, his knot still, still buried inside of him, stretching him open and his nerves all around his groin on fire, pulsating. When Yeosang pumped his hand up and down once and continued massaging his tip, his back curved backwards like a startled cat and he started crying.
“Yeosang-ah, hyung, please stop, please.”
It was like a dam had broken. The more he tried to get away from Yeosang’s touch, the more he would move his hips, which meant the knot inside of him would move, Yeosang’s dick brushing his prostate over and over again, pulling him back towards his hands. His tears kept flowing down his cheeks, plip plip plip, dripping onto Yeosang’s chest, his stuffed nose already making it hard to breathe.
“Hyung please, hic please!’ he sobbed, whining. He hit his chest lightly, he could barely lift his arms. “It hurts please, stop-”
“When. Tell me when.”
Jongho tried to make eye contact with him through his tears, throwing his best are you fucking kidding me look as he was fucked out and sobbing. It was probably not very effective. Yeosang kept moving his hands and Jongho felt close, but it made his body strain.
“Fuck- fuck! Five days ago! Please- stop- five… hic five days ago when we- aah, when we bumped into each other!”
Yeosang suddenly stopped his movements, his hands perfectly still, and sat up, kissing Jongho’s tears away. “Thank you, baby. I‘m sorry I made you cry.”
Jongho continued sobbing, sniffling in between, clinging onto Yeosang’s shoulders now that he could. He took deep breaths, tried to calm himself down.
“But you were so close,” Yeosang murmured, moving his hands a little bit to test the waters, and it made Jongho actually jump in surprise. “Do you want to cum?”
When no response came from Jongho, still sniffling, his head fully resting on his shoulder again, Yeosang moved his hands. Jongho wrapped a hand on his wrist again. “Not- not now. Please.”
Yeosang kissed his cheeks again in response, where his tears had made tracks, then left a small kiss on his lips again, soft and inviting. He tasted like berries. Jongho kissed him back tentatively, testing. Their kisses were so chaste and sweet it seemed a little absurd that he was crying.
Yeosang moved his fingers around his shaft, lightly touching, like he couldn’t help himself despite Jongho’s protests. Jongho gripped his wrist again.
“Hyung, please, it really- the knot- it hurts. It’s really too much,” he sniffled again, his sobs dying down, feeling a bit awkward at how much he cried. “Can’t you move it out?”
Yeosang moved his hands to his hips, finally, finally giving him some room to breathe, and circled his hips around, trying to pull back slowly. It did not work.
“I’m sorry, baby, not yet.”
Jongho nodded his head, hissing at the ministrations and the way it pulled on his nerves. Even three days straight of going to the gym for hours hadn’t tired him out this much. He felt like he could pass out.
Yeosang trailed his hands down from Jongho’s hips to his groin again, brushing his fingers lightly around, as if Jongho would be fooled.
“You know, I can feel you clenching around me,” he murmured lightly, gripping Jongho again, making him whine in protest.
“Yeah, maybe because someone keeps touching me,” Jongho attempted to roll his eyes, but he seemed a bit silly, clinging onto Yeosang’s shoulders, sitting on his lap.
Yeosang licked and nipped at his scent gland again, kissing down around his neck.
“Five days ago, huh…”
He started moving his hand up and down Jongho’s cock, this time not so overwhelming as when he was teasing him before slowly and deliberately. Jongho’s breath picked up.
“Yeah, just like that,” Yeosang murmured, as if he was the one getting jerked off, his breath picking up too. Jongho dug his fingers into his back and knew it hurt.
“I- hah, it’s- no- ahh,” he mumbled deliriously, his entire body tensing up like a metal coil twisted around the wrong way until he came just moments later, tensed and shaking, his back arching because he had no other way to move. He barely felt he was clenching down on Yeosang’s knot, his dick spurting pathetically, almost dry.
The smell around them was too humid, too warm, sex and skin and sweat, and still Yeosang’s clean scent managed to cut through it all in Jongho’s brain. He nuzzled into his throat.
“Fuck,” Yeosang grumbled, and started fucking his knot into Jongho again. Jongho’s body had run out of responses. “It’s unfair, you’re so pretty with tears in your eyes, Jongho-yah. How am I supposed to… fuck, I need to fuck you so bad.”
Jongho, limp like a ragdoll, his body weight fully resting on Yeosang, grumbled, “how are you saying that with your dick in me?” His cheek and lips were smushed by Yeosang’s shoulder muscle so he could barely make out the words.
“Yeah, I need my knot to go down so I can fuck you again,” Yeosang murmured, staring at nothing in particular as he trailed his hands slowly around Jongho’s waist.
Jongho replied nothing, eyes closed, almost asleep at the warm smell right under his nose. They stayed like that for a second, Jongho drifting between sleep and wakefulness and wondered what kind of dreams he’d have now.
Once Yeosang’s knot finally went down, he pulled out with a wet pop out of him, lifting Jongho up by the waist so he could do that, and the sudden stimulation caused Jongho’s nerves to go a bit haywire, but he was appreciative of finally being empty.
In between his eyes drifting to sleep and the weird alertness the action produced, he realized two things. One, that Yeosang was fucking thick, how the hell did he fit that inside of him, and two he was still hard. No wonder he had poked through to Jongho’s stomach.
Yeosang moved to lay Jongho down on his back again, but Jongho protested as best he could.
“No! No. No more couch. We’re fucking disgusting. No more couch.” That was the clearest his mind could put it.
“Fine,” Yeosang huffed, wrapping his arms around Jongho’s middle, patting his legs so he would wrap his legs around his waist, which Jongho did begrudgingly, no power left in his body. Yeosang picked him up confidently, Jongho questioning too late if Yeosang was always this strong, walking through his small apartment in confident steps. He entered his bedroom and threw him on the bed. He flipped him over, pushing his legs around, Jongho being zero help, and crawled on after him. Jongho realized half awake that the bed was an absolute mess, covered in bedsheets, pillows strewn around, towels everywhere. The scent of Yeosang’s rut had clung onto the sheets, strong and overpowering in a way Jongho didn’t even smell on him. It smelled thick and strong, like tree sap. He buried his nose into the sheets absentmindedly.
“Gonna fuck you again, yeah?” Yeosang asked and before Jongho could even comprehend what he said, he was moving to align himself with Jongho again, gripping him by the waist and raising his ass up. All the cum and slick from before made it easy for Yeosang to enter him, and he felt so dizzy all he could do was take a big breath, startled.
Yeosang started fucking him with long strokes this time, gripping his waist, moving into him deliberately, Jongho barely able to hold his ass up, his thigh muscles trembling. He laid there, almost motionless, just taking it, his breath hitching quietly. He started feeling a slight headache from all the crying before, his lower abdomen tingly from all the abuse on his nerves.
Then Yeosang picked up the pace, his body slamming against him, and Jongho wanted to ask him things, talk to him maybe, but all he could manage to say was “hmmph?” like a confused cat, so he gave up on the idea.
Something about the scent on Yeosang’s bed was firing off new signals to his brain, making him salivate, and he could tell he was slicking again, though it was unclear how much from all the other fluids being pumped inside him.
Yeosang leant down, murmured something Jongho couldn’t understand, then started cumming into him, lightly biting down on where the previous bite mark was, sensitive and tender. Jongho’s thighs gave up on him, slamming his body down on the bed, causing Yeosang to slip out with his smaller knot this time. He couldn’t really see much and he didn’t care.
Yeosang laid down next to him, panting, his body radiating warmth like a furnace, when usually it was Jongho that gave him hot packs when they were outside in the winter. He wondered if he was like this during his heats. Yeosang tentatively raised a hand to push his hair away, wiping his thumb over where he cried. His touch was tender, as if he hadn’t just fucked him twice in a row. Something bloomed in Jongho’s sleep-addled mind.
“You can go to sleep if you want,” he mumbled.
“‘m disgusting,” Jongho responded, grumbling, barely audible.
“I’ll clean you up. Just sleep.”
Jongho barely nodded his head before his eyes closed. Right as he was drifting to sleep, he felt Yeosang get out of the bed, then a warm, wet towel swipe gently across his skin all over.