Archive of Our Own

lu guang tried not to stare.

really, he did.

it was the third time this week he’d had to consciously look away, count backwards from ten, and focus on anything other than the way cheng xiaoshi tilted his head when he laughed. the way his long black hair slid off his shoulder, catching the warm sunlight slanting through the café windows. the way that faint trace of omega pheromones curled at the edge of his scent—sweet, citrusy, cloying in the worst way—and made every other alpha in the room look up like they were bloodhounds catching a trail.

it was subtle, barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. xiaoshi wasn’t in pre-heat, not officially, but his body was starting to hum with that telltale warmth. a flicker beneath the skin. a scent that made lu guang want to commit violence every time someone else breathed it in.

across the table, xiaoshi was talking animatedly to some upperclassman alpha from their media theory class. a senior. tall, cocky. a stupid smirk on his face that lu guang wanted to wipe off with a chair.

“...and then the professor was like, ‘that’s not a real source,’ but i swear it was—right? like, if someone posts it online, it counts!”

the senior laughed. “sure, if your source is your mom’s facebook feed.”

xiaoshi laughed too—loud and bright—and bumped the guy’s shoulder with his own. 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. lu guang’s hands tightened around his coffee cup, knuckles blanching.

he wasn’t listening anymore.

he could feel it—the shift in air, the way the senior’s posture leaned in just a little too far, the way xiaoshi, oblivious as always, tilted his head and smiled, unaware of the way he was lighting up the whole damn room.

unaware of the way lu guang was 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵.

another alpha passed by their table and did a double-take at xiaoshi. lu guang watched his eyes dip—neck, collarbone, exposed skin where xiaoshi’s hoodie had slipped slightly off one shoulder. xiaoshi didn’t notice. but lu guang did.

lu guang noticed everything.

his jaw ticked. he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, checking the time even though they didn’t have a class for another hour. “we should go,” he said curtly, standing up.

xiaoshi blinked, still mid-laugh. “huh? what, already?”

“you said you wanted to review notes before psych.”

“yeah, but—wait, lu guang, we still have time!”

lu guang’s voice was lower now, sharper. “𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

xiaoshi stared at him, brows furrowing slightly. but he stood up anyway, slinging his bag over his shoulder and offering the senior a sheepish wave. “i’ll catch you later!”

lu guang didn’t wait for him to follow.

he pushed the café door open, letting the sunlight hit his face like a slap, trying to breathe through the sharp spike of 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 that rattled like a drumbeat in his chest.

xiaoshi jogged up beside him, steps light. “jeez, moody much? what crawled up your tail today, guang-guang?”

lu guang didn’t answer.

because he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth without letting something dangerous slip out.

because his rut was coming.

and so was something else—darker, deeper, gnawing at the base of his spine every time another alpha so much as looked at xiaoshi like he wasn’t already claimed.

lu guang had stopped taking notes twenty minutes ago.

his fingers were still curled around his pen, but the ink had long since dried against the same word scribbled in the margin—“control.”

the only thing he was focusing on now was the slow, lazy way cheng xiaoshi twirled a strand of hair around his finger. absentminded. pretty. distracting.

he was leaned over his laptop, lips pursed in concentration, bangs falling into his eyes—completely unaware that three different alphas seated nearby were not looking at the powerpoint on the screen.

xiaoshi glanced up, scanning the slide, and smiled when he locked eyes with one of them. a tall second-year with sharp canines and a scent like dry spice. “ah—hu jin, right?” xiaoshi tilted his head. “do you have a pen i can borrow?”

he was asking for a 𝘱𝘦𝘯.

and yet the alpha leaned over like he was being offered a hand in 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦.

“anything for you,” hu jin, lips curling into a grin as he handed over a pen. his fingers brushed xiaoshi’s—deliberately.

lu guang’s jaw tightened.

xiaoshi, ever oblivious, just gave a quick “thank you” and turned back to his notes. his scent—light citrus and something warm, dizzying—floated in the stale air-conditioned room like a lure.

another alpha from behind leaned forward under the pretense of fixing xiaoshi’s jacket collar, murmuring something about it being twisted. his hand lingered a second too long on xiaoshi’s shoulder.

lu guang’s nails pressed half-moons into his palm.

and the final straw—

“hey, cheng xiaoshi,” came a syrupy voice from the seat behind him. a newer alpha, clearly cocky and used to getting what he wanted. “i saw your film reel last semester. it was hot. you’ve got some real talent, huh?”

xiaoshi blinked, bashful but pleased. “you really think so?”

“oh, definitely.” the guy leaned in. “if you ever need a partner on the next project... i volunteer.”

he punctuated the sentence with a wink. 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬.

lu guang closed his eyes. inhaled through his nose. regretted it immediately.

everyone in this damn classroom was putting out scent signals like moths to a flame. the air was thick with low-pitched want—possessive pheromones leaking off territorial alphas who thought their subtle little tricks would go unnoticed.

cheng xiaoshi didn’t notice a thing.

he sat there, surrounded by would-be suitors, glowing. he’d tied his hair half-up during class, strands slipping loose in a way that framed his soft face perfectly. his lashes fluttered when he laughed. his skin glowed under the lighting like he'd wandered out of a perfume commercial.

it was unbearable.

xiaoshi had never said he was taken. he’d never bothered to claim lu guang. maybe he didn’t think he had to. maybe he didn’t even 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to.

lu guang stared at the laptop screen, his vision blurring slightly.

the guy beside xiaoshi leaned in again, bolder now. “you free this weekend?”

“maybe,” xiaoshi said, lips curled around a teasing smile. “depends. got something in mind?”

𝘯𝘰. 𝘯𝘰, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵, lu guang thought viciously. 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧𝘧.

but of course, he said nothing.

he sat through the rest of class in tight, white-hot silence, barely hearing the lecture over the roaring in his ears. by the time the professor dismissed them, he was the first one to pack his things.

xiaoshi jogged up beside him as they left the room.

“so serious today,” he said, nudging lu guang with an elbow. “what’s up with that?”

lu guang didn’t answer.

xiaoshi only laughed again, clearly amused.

still too pretty. still too close. still wearing someone else’s pen tucked behind his ear.

the sky had started to bruise by the time they left campus.

dusky gold pooled along the sidewalks, casting soft shadows as lu guang walked a step ahead, stiff-backed and silent. the muted clang of bicycles, the distant thrum of chatter from other students—everything felt distant, muted beneath the steady pressure building behind his ribs.

cheng xiaoshi trailed beside him, earbuds dangling around his neck, oblivious and humming some pop song under his breath. the very same song that had been playing when that senior had leaned across the table during lunch and asked if he wanted to study together sometime. he’d raised a cocky eyebrow and smiled like he already knew the answer.

xiaoshi had just laughed, said, “sure, maybe,” in that bright, careless tone of his.

lu guang had nearly bitten through the inside of his cheek.

it had only gotten worse from there.

every hallway, every class, every break between lectures—xiaoshi had been circled like prey, completely unaware. he was so damn pretty, without meaning to be. long dark hair tied up loosely with strands slipping down his neck, sleeves rolled to the elbows, biting his pen when he was focused. he’d bump into people and apologize with that soft voice, completely unguarded, as if he couldn’t smell the way their pheromones darkened when he passed.

somewhere between psych and econ, lu guang had started to feel like he was going to snap.

by the time they reached the courtyard, the tension in his body had grown so tight it was a miracle he was still walking in a straight line.

xiaoshi caught up to him again, arms swinging carelessly, as if he hadn’t noticed the distance lu guang had deliberately kept between them all day.

“you’ve been in a weird mood since lunch,” he said, lips pursing in mock concern. “did you see a bad grade? step in gum? or wait—” he grinned suddenly, that teasing lilt creeping into his voice, “is this that grumpy-alpha silence thing again? you gonna brood dramatically until i beg to know what’s wrong?”

lu guang’s eye twitched.

“i mean, if you’re trying to be mysterious, it’s kinda working,” xiaoshi continued, sidling closer until their arms nearly brushed. “hot, even.”

lu guang stopped walking.

xiaoshi didn’t notice until he took two more steps and turned around, blinking. “lu—?”

“do you even know,” lu guang said slowly, his voice dangerously even, “how many people stared at you today?”

xiaoshi blinked again. “uh. i don’t know? a few?”

“a few.”

“okay, maybe more than a few?” he offered with a sheepish smile. “i am pretty charming.”

“you let three different alphas touch you.”

“that was just—” xiaoshi’s voice faltered. “they were just classmates.”

“one brushed your wrist, the other adjusted your collar, and the third put his hand on your waist, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘨 𝘹𝘪𝘢𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪.”

lu guang rarely used his full name these days. and never like that—low, biting, almost growled through clenched teeth.

xiaoshi finally hesitated.

“...you’re really mad about this, huh?”

lu guang didn’t answer. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, clenched so tightly his knuckles ached. he didn’t know how to say what he was feeling. that it wasn’t just jealousy. it was 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. it was something ancient and unspoken and deep in his scent, something that had been flaring hotter with every hour xiaoshi remained obliviously, beautifully untouched—but not untouched enough.

cheng xiaoshi tilted his head, trying to soften the tension in the air with a crooked smile. it didn’t reach his eyes. “don’t be broody, guang-guang,” he said, voice light, teasing, like that might fix it. “you know you’ll always be my best friend.”

lu guang didn’t look.

he only continued walking.

didn't even stare at him, even if xiaoshi had said the wrongest thing imaginable.

𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.

that phrase was a slap to something deeper. something territorial and instinctual and unbearable.

something that didn’t want to be his best friend.

something that wanted to be the only name on xiaoshi’s skin. the only scent on his sheets. the only hand ever allowed near that pretty, sensitive waist.

something that wanted to ruin the idea of just friends—slowly, deliberately, until there was nothing left of it between them but heat and claiming and 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.

lu guang wanted to mark him. not with teeth—not yet—but with the echo of his name in xiaoshi’s mouth, in the bruises that would bloom soft and secret beneath his collarbone, in the scent that would cling to him for days, undeniable. unwashable.

he wanted to be the reason xiaoshi’s knees buckled in the hallway the next morning. the reason other alphas would glance his way and know they’d missed their chance. that he was already spoken for. already ruined by someone sharper, steadier, more possessive than they could ever be.

he wanted to rub every bit of their attention off xiaoshi’s skin with his own hands—slow, hard, until the only thing left behind was him.

but all he got was “𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.”

his jaw twitched. he looked away.

the apartment was quiet when they got home, save for the hum of the fridge and the muffled clinks of xiaoshi digging around in the kitchen for snacks. lu guang had mumbled something vague about homework and retreated to the bedroom without much else—just a passing glance, unreadable.

it had been an hour.

sixty minutes of silence, not a word exchanged. xiaoshi had scrolled on his phone for a while on the couch, curled up in one of his oversized shirts with cartoon rabbits on it, hair loose and fluffy from his post-shower dry. eventually, he padded barefoot toward the hallway, yawning, only to pause in front of lu guang’s half-shut door.

something reeked of tension.

not physically. not scent-wise. lu guang was too well-disciplined for that, too good at keeping his emotions bottled up tight, layers of calm like lacquered glass. but even that glass had started to crack today, and now—

now, xiaoshi could feel it in the air. like thunderclouds waiting to pour.

“guang-guang?” he called softly, voice lilting. he pushed open the door just enough to peer inside.

lu guang was at his desk, the glow of the monitor casting pale light on his face. his posture was stiff, legs crossed tightly at the ankle, one hand supporting his chin while the other hovered over his keyboard, unmoving. there was nothing on the screen except a paused video. he hadn’t been working.

“huh?” xiaoshi tilted his head and stepped inside. “you didn’t even start your paper?”

lu guang didn’t look at him.

cheng xiaoshi padded across the room and flopped sideways onto lu guang’s bed with a dramatic sigh. “okay, something’s definitely wrong. you’ve been acting all grumpy since class ended.” he rolled over, resting his chin on his arms. “was it the cafeteria food again? or did i do something? or... wait—did a professor say something dumb again?”

silence.

xiaoshi’s brows pinched. “hey, come on. i’m talking to you.”

lu guang finally exhaled. “i’m fine.”

“you’re so not,” xiaoshi said, kicking his feet lightly against the mattress. his shirt slipped slightly off one shoulder—soft fabric clinging lazily to his skin. “you’ve been pouting.”

“i don’t pout,” lu guang muttered.

“you do, though. like this.” xiaoshi puffed his cheeks out and narrowed his eyes, imitating the look lu guang had been wearing all evening. “see?”

“i don’t look like that.”

“you totally do.” xiaoshi grinned, pleased to be getting a reaction at last. “but seriously—if you’re upset about something, you can tell me. i mean, we’re roommates, right? roommates tell each other stuff.”

lu guang didn’t answer. his eyes flicked over briefly—just briefly—to where xiaoshi was laying: curled on his side like a sleepy cat, shirt rumpled, lips slightly parted from his last sentence. he looked... soft. he looked like home.

and lu guang hated how badly he wanted that. how much it had eaten at him all day.

because xiaoshi didn’t know.

didn’t know how lu guang’s mood had soured the second some over-perfumed alpha had leaned in to “adjust” his collar. didn’t know how furious he’d felt watching hands brush too close to pale skin, too many eyes following the swing of xiaoshi’s ponytail as he skipped down the hall. didn’t know how lu guang had spent half of lecture not even listening, just resisting the urge to drag him out of that classroom, slam a claimbite into his neck, and make sure no one ever looked at him that way again.

didn’t know, because to cheng xiaoshi, they were 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴.

𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴, at best.

“seriously,” xiaoshi pressed, voice softening. “you’ve been kind of scary today. did something happen? or is this just your mysterious brooding alpha thing again?”

lu guang finally turned to look at him.

he shouldn’t have.

because xiaoshi was blinking up at him with big, sleepy eyes, one hand tucked under his cheek, hair a little messy from tossing on the bed. his shirt rode high enough to show a bit of his waist—slender, smooth—and his scent, now that the alpha let himself feel it, was warm and sugar-sweet from his post-shower skin. something in it teased the beginning of heat—just the barest shift in hormones, a ripple underneath the calm.

something inviting.

lu guang’s jaw clenched.

“i didn’t like today,” he said finally. his voice was quiet. tight.

“huh?” xiaoshi blinked. “why?”

lu guang looked at him like the answer should be obvious.

“you,” he said. “you were smiling at them. letting them touch you.”

xiaoshi sat up, confused. “that 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? lu guang, didn't i already say—”

“they’re 𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘴, cheng xiaoshi.”

there was a pause. xiaoshi blinked again, then tilted his head with a confused little laugh. “well, so what? i was just being polite. i don’t get why you're so bothered—” he broke off, realization dawning slow and pink on his cheeks. “oh. you’re... you’re jealous?”

lu guang didn’t reply.

but that silence said more than any admission could.

cheng xiaoshi’s face went bright red.

he scrambled to sit up fully, hands flailing a little. “wait wait wait—what do you mean jealous?! we’re not even—like—i mean, i didn’t know you thought—”

lu guang stood abruptly, pushing away from his chair. his body was too warm, his control too thin. he could still smell those lingering alpha scents on xiaoshi’s skin like taint, and something primal clawed at the inside of his ribs, aching to erase them.

xiaoshi’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“...you’re really upset because of that?”

lu guang swallowed hard, throat working around the ache in his chest—and lower. “you smell like them.” his hands curled into fists at his sides, trying to fight back the pulse of need that was starting to burn through his blood like wildfire. his rut hadn’t officially started yet. not fully.

but xiaoshi—pretty, flushed, and unknowingly tempting—was making it impossible to hold back.

“you 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 like 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮,” he repeated, his voice low, roughened.

xiaoshi stared, pupils wide and shimmering, lips parted in a breath he didn’t quite take. he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up slightly, hair falling over one shoulder in loose strands from where he’d twisted it up earlier. his pajama shirt had slipped further down his shoulder, collar askew.

he looked soft.

he looked 𝘩𝘪𝘴.

lu guang moved before he could stop himself.

he stepped forward—then dropped to his knees on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. xiaoshi leaned back almost unconsciously, stilling as he felt lu guang's hands plant firmly on either side of his hips. slowly, he leaned in, and the shift in his scent was undeniable now—thick, heavy, feral, like heat rolling off a summer storm.

xiaoshi’s breath hitched. “lu guang...?”

but he didn’t finish the sentence.

because lu guang was 𝘯𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 him.

slow, deliberate drags of his nose along the side of xiaoshi’s neck, pressing in just beneath his ear where his scent gland pulsed faintly with warmth. a shiver raced down xiaoshi’s spine. lu guang’s hands moved—trailing from the mattress to xiaoshi’s waist, then his thighs, then back up again in slow, greedy sweeps. his fingers pressed with just a little too much pressure. his touch felt like a brand.

“still smell like them,” he muttered, lips brushing over skin. “don’t like it.”

“i-i didn’t mean to—” xiaoshi stammered, cheeks blazing. “i wasn’t trying to—guang-guang, you’re... acting really weird—”

“i’m in rut,” lu guang murmured against his neck, voice almost apologetic. but the heat in it was anything but soft. “early. because of you.”

xiaoshi’s hands scrambled for something to hold on to. the sheets. lu guang’s arm. anything. his heart was pounding too fast.

“i-i thought you hated ruts,” he mumbled, breathless.

“i do,” lu guang answered. “but you...”

he didn’t finish. he leaned in further instead, pushing xiaoshi back gently with his body until the omega’s spine hit the bed with a soft thud. lu guang hovered above him, weight braced on his forearms, face just inches away now. his eyes were blown wide, pupils nearly black with lust and possessive heat.

“you make it impossible to hate anything,” he murmured, lips ghosting over xiaoshi’s cheek. “even this.”

“l-lu guang—” xiaoshi’s voice cracked, his hands frozen against lu guang’s shoulders.

“you’re too pretty,” lu guang said softly. “you smell too sweet. you flirt and laugh and touch like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“i wasn’t trying to—”

“but you did,” lu guang cut in, leaning closer still. their foreheads nearly touched. “you let them near you. you let their scents stay on your skin. all day i’ve been watching you smile at them, while i had to sit and do nothing. while i had to remind myself that we’re just 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴.”

xiaoshi bit his lip. his face was burning, utterly red now. he couldn’t meet lu guang’s eyes.

“i hate it,” lu guang said, almost to himself. his voice dropped lower, rougher. “i want to ruin that.”

the words sent a shock through xiaoshi’s gut—fear, excitement, something more. the air between them was buzzing. every brush of lu guang’s breath made his skin tingle. every nudge of his fingers sent sparks down his spine.

lu guang ducked his head lower, dragging his nose along the edge of xiaoshi’s jaw, slow and indulgent, like he was trying to memorize him by scent alone.

“i should mark you,” he whispered. “right here. so everyone knows.”

xiaoshi gasped—hands coming up to grip lu guang’s shirt, knuckles white.

“you don’t mean that,” he said weakly.

“i do,” he said, nuzzling against the base of xiaoshi’s throat, where the scent was strongest. “i want you to smell like me.”

“lu guang—”

“say yes.”

xiaoshi’s breath stuttered. “w-what?”

“let me make it better,” lu guang whispered, and this time there was no mistaking the desperation in his voice. “let me make you mine.”

lu guang didn’t wait for permission—not really. but he also didn’t rush.

he hovered for a second longer, watching xiaoshi’s face beneath him—flushed pink, lips parted, pupils wide and trembling like a cornered rabbit. but he wasn’t running. he wasn’t pushing him away.

he was holding on.

and that was all the answer lu guang needed.

his mouth came down soft—at first. just a brush of lips. barely a kiss. barely anything.

xiaoshi’s eyes fluttered shut.

then lu guang kissed him again. firmer. slower. their lips met and lingered this time, warmth pressed between them, breath shared. xiaoshi made a quiet, broken noise in the back of his throat. he arched slightly into the kiss without meaning to, and that was when lu guang melted.

one hand slid into xiaoshi’s hair, gripping it gently at the nape as his mouth moved with more purpose—lips parting, teeth grazing, tongue slipping past in slow, wet heat.

xiaoshi whimpered.

he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of attention. he was the flirty one, the tease. the one who laughed and poked and played. but now lu guang was kissing him like he’d waited 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 to do it. like he was starving.

and xiaoshi didn’t know what to do with that.

his hands clutched at lu guang’s shoulders helplessly. every breath felt too tight. every second made him feel like he was falling, deeper and deeper into something he couldn’t name.

lu guang’s other hand slid down, curling around his waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush. xiaoshi could feel the hard lines of muscle, the heat of lu guang’s chest through the thin cotton of their shirts. and lower—he could feel the way lu guang was already hard against his hip, rut prickling just beneath the surface, restrained only by the last shreds of control.

the kiss deepened again. lu guang tilted xiaoshi’s head to the side with a firm hand, angling the kiss so he could lick deeper, claim more. his breath was hot and heavy, and his scent was growing thicker by the second—spiced, sharp, unmistakably alpha.

xiaoshi gasped when lu guang pulled away to breathe, and the sound made something in lu guang snap.

he dove back in—this time not for xiaoshi’s lips, but lower. his mouth trailed across his jaw, down to the side of his neck. he kissed there—sucked there—slow and deliberate, right above the fluttering thrum of xiaoshi’s scent gland.

xiaoshi’s hips jerked.

“l-lu guang—!”

“shh,” lu guang murmured against his skin. “let me fix this.”

another kiss. another bite, just sharp enough to make xiaoshi’s fingers clench in the sheets. then a soothing lick, and a groan—lu guang was the one groaning now, like the taste of xiaoshi was driving him out of his mind.

“you smell better already,” he mumbled, lips dragging lower, mouth warm and hungry against xiaoshi’s collarbone. “like me.”

xiaoshi’s thighs were trembling now, parted slightly with lu guang between them, body hot and pliant. his omega instincts were stirring—confused, overwhelmed, wanting. His own scent was rising into the air like blooming sugar, heat-slick and sweet.

“d-don’t say stuff like that,” he whispered.

“why not?” lu guang looked up, eyes blown wide and dark. “it’s true.”

“you’re— you’re only like this because of your rut—”

“no,” lu guang said, and his voice was steady. “this isn’t just rut. not for me.”

then he kissed him again—slow, deep, thorough.

xiaoshi melted.

he moaned softly into lu guang’s mouth, legs curling around his hips without thinking. lu guang’s hand slipped beneath the hem of his pajama shirt, tracing along the bare skin of his waist, fingers trailing heat. his other hand stayed buried in xiaoshi’s hair, keeping him in place, holding him like something precious.

the kiss turned messier—more tongue, more teeth, more need.

xiaoshi whimpered, hips tilting up. “g-guang—ngh—”

“i’ve got you,” lu guang whispered, voice a low growl. “gonna make it better. gonna make you mine.”

cheng xiaoshi shivered.

not because he was scared. not because he wanted to run.

but because some part of him—the part of him that no one ever saw, the part buried beneath all his teasing and bravado and too-loud laughs—wanted that. needed it. needed him.

lu guang.

his alpha.

the thought shouldn’t have felt so natural, but it did. like it had always been waiting beneath his skin, just out of reach.

and now, it was crawling to the surface.

lu guang kissed him again, slower this time, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world. like xiaoshi wasn’t already trembling beneath him, flushed and breathless, thighs tightening around his waist with every roll of heat that passed between them.

his hand moved with reverence. it ghosted up xiaoshi’s waist, over the soft curve of his ribs, to the slope of his chest. the fabric of his pajamas was thin, no barrier at all—not to touch, not to warmth, not to need.

he slid it up.

xiaoshi gasped as cool air touched his skin, as lu guang’s fingers trailed up his torso—slowly, purposefully, like he wanted to memorize every inch of him.

“can i…?” lu guang murmured, eyes dark and hooded, breath brushing over xiaoshi’s jaw.

the question was barely spoken, but it crashed into xiaoshi like a wave.

he nodded—immediately—because words had left him completely.

that was all lu guang needed.

the pajama shirt was pulled over his head, tossed somewhere unseen. xiaoshi lay back against the pillows, half-naked and flushed to his ears, black hair tousled against the sheets.

beautiful.

lu guang stared.

his rut was pounding louder now—burning, pulling, demanding. but even through the haze, he took his time. his eyes roved slowly, appreciatively, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. like he was worshipping him with nothing but a gaze.

“you’re…” he swallowed thickly, voice rough, “…so pretty.”

xiaoshi covered his face with both hands instantly.

“lu guang!” he squeaked, voice cracking halfway through. “don’t say stuff like—like that—”

lu guang caught his wrists, gently prying them away from his face.

“i will,” he said, leaning in close. “i’ll say it as many times as it takes until you finally believe it.”

and then he kissed him again. not his lips—this time it was his chest. his collarbones. his stomach. each kiss lower than the last, each press of lu guang’s mouth making xiaoshi arch and tremble, his skin burning under every touch.

by the time lu guang’s mouth reached the waistband of his pajama pants, xiaoshi was already whimpering, his hips twitching like he couldn’t stay still. his scent was flooding the room now—sweet and spiced, glazed with the dizzy tang of approaching heat.

lu guang inhaled deeply, letting the scent soak into his lungs.

“you’re close,” he murmured.

xiaoshi blinked, dazed. “wha—?”

“your heat,” lu guang said, kissing just above the waistband. “it’s coming early. you’re scenting me so hard i can taste it.”

xiaoshi’s whole face went red. “i’m not trying to—!”

“i know,” lu guang whispered, eyes gleaming. “that’s what makes it worse.”

or better.

his hands tugged gently, slipping xiaoshi’s pants down. xiaoshi didn’t resist. he couldn’t. every nerve in his body was already alight, and lu guang’s scent—thick, musky, alpha—was wrapping around him like a blanket.

once the pants were off, lu guang crawled back up—slow and deliberate, lips brushing xiaoshi’s skin as he went. kisses to his hips. his stomach. the soft underside of his ribs. then up, up, until they were face to face again.

“you still smell like them,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, nose pressing into xiaoshi’s neck. “but not for long.”

he bit.

not hard enough to mark—not yet. but enough for xiaoshi to cry out, hands flying up to cling to his shoulders.

his omega instincts were taking over now—softening, surrendering, wanting. he tilted his head automatically, exposing more of his neck. his legs fell open without thought, hips rising in invitation.

lu guang groaned.

“you don’t even know what you do to me,” he rasped, fingers curling into xiaoshi’s thighs, thumbs brushing his hips like he was being held in place.

xiaoshi whimpered. “t-then show me…”

lu guang stilled.

he looked into xiaoshi’s eyes—wide, soft, ready.

he kissed him one last time, deep and slow and possessive. his body was hot, scent wild, rut clawing at his spine.

then he whispered against xiaoshi’s lips:

“mine.”

cheng xiaoshi whimpered, almost too quiet to hear, but lu guang felt it. felt the way his body shivered beneath him, felt the way his thighs pressed tighter around his waist like some part of him—some instinctual, unconscious part—needed to be held down.

and lu guang did.

he pressed in closer, letting his weight settle onto xiaoshi’s frame, blanketing him, grounding him. their skin was burning where it touched. chest against chest. breath to breath. the rhythm between them uneven, ragged, charged.

xiaoshi’s fingers clawed at lu guang’s back, unsure whether to push or pull or grab. “y-you’re acting so…”

“so what?” lu guang’s voice was low, but he was biting back a teasing smile. “like an alpha?”

his eyes gleamed under the dim lights. “you want me to stop?”

the question hung in the air.

and xiaoshi—bright-eyed, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed so pink they glowed—swallowed hard and shook his head.

“no,” he whispered. “i want you to keep going.”

the last of lu guang’s control snapped like a thread.

his mouth was on xiaoshi’s again, but there was no restraint now—only hunger. his kisses were harder, messier, edged with possessive desperation. and xiaoshi melted into it, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting under the demand of it all.

he was trembling. not with fear—with want.

lu guang’s hands slid down, down, cupping the back of xiaoshi’s thighs and pulling him up, grinding their hips together. both of them gasped—skin on fire, hardness meeting heat—and xiaoshi arched under him like his spine had a mind of its own.

“feels—ah—sensitive,” he stammered, head tipping back.

lu guang growled into his skin. “because your body knows.”

“knows what—?”

“that you’re mine.”

xiaoshi moaned at the sound of it—at the deep, sure tone of his voice, at the weight of those words. every time lu guang said it, something inside him twisted deliciously. something hot and fluttery coiled low in his belly.

lu guang kissed down his chest again—slower this time, but no less greedy. he licked at a nipple, bit softly at it, and the noise xiaoshi made was almost obscene.

“sensitive,” he gasped, panting, writhing. “feels— guang-guang—feels weird…”

“good weird?” lu guang whispered, teeth dragging across xiaoshi’s ribs.

xiaoshi nodded helplessly.

lu guang moved lower. between soft thighs. pressing kisses to the insides, tongue dragging slow lines. xiaoshi’s hips bucked. he squirmed and gasped and pleaded in broken whimpers he barely understood himself.

lu guang’s scent was overpowering now—heady and thick. it wrapped around xiaoshi like a cage. his whole body was aching.

and lu guang could smell it. could feel it in the way xiaoshi’s slick had started to bloom, soaking the sheets beneath him, scenting the room like sugar and want and heat.

“oh,” xiaoshi mumbled, half-conscious, “that’s not supposed to—yet—”

his body was reacting too fast. too strong.

because he was with lu guang.

lu guang, who hovered above him now with ravenous eyes and a mouth chasing kisses.

lu guang, who hooked his arms under xiaoshi’s knees and pushed his legs back—exposing, opening, offering.

“you’re ready,” he murmured, kissing just below xiaoshi’s belly button. “i can smell it. you’re dripping for me.”

xiaoshi covered his face again with both hands, crying into them. “stop saying things like that—”

lu guang kissed the inside of his knee. “why?”

“because it makes me feel—things—”

“good things?”

“yes! but also embarrassing things!”

lu guang laughed softly—deep and warm—and leaned in until his forehead touched xiaoshi’s.

“you’re cute,” he murmured.

xiaoshi looked up at him, dazed and hazy, mouth parted.

“and mine,” lu guang said again, softer this time.

he rolled his hips down, just once, just enough for xiaoshi to feel it—the thick pressure, the unmistakable press of lu guang’s cock against him.

xiaoshi gasped and clung to his shoulders. “l-listen,” he said breathlessly. “if you’re gonna—if we’re gonna—um—you should know i’ve never—”

lu guang’s breath caught.

he should’ve guessed—xiaoshi was always so forward, always teasing, always pretending to be unaffected. but beneath all that noise, there was something untouched in the way he responded. the way his body trembled. the way he leaned into everything, like it was new.

lu guang’s thumb brushed over xiaoshi’s hip gently, reverently. “then i’ll be gentle.”

he leaned in to kiss him again, softer this time—less heat, more patience. but xiaoshi still moaned, his fingers twitching against lu guang’s shoulders, nails scraping lightly like he didn’t know where to hold on.

“you’re doing good,” lu guang whispered, lips brushing over xiaoshi’s cheek, his jaw, down his throat. “just relax for me.”

he kissed lower, tracing xiaoshi’s body like it was something fragile and rare. every inch of him was delicate under lu guang’s mouth, and he treated him like it. like xiaoshi was something meant to be unwrapped slowly. cherished.

when his mouth reached the inside of xiaoshi’s thighs, he paused—watching the way xiaoshi squirmed, the way his legs tried to close out of instinct.

“no,” lu guang said gently, gripping them. “keep them open for me.”

xiaoshi whimpered, embarrassed, but obeyed.

“good,” lu guang murmured.

he kissed down again, and then lower still—until he was nosing against xiaoshi’s slicked entrance, breathing in the heat-drunk scent of him, and xiaoshi nearly yelped.

“g-guang—!”

lu guang just hummed, voice deep and calm. “relax. i’m just getting you ready.”

the first lick was slow. tentative.

xiaoshi gasped and bucked, his hand flying down to clutch the bedsheets.

“w-wait—!! that’s—ah—”

lu guang didn’t stop. he licked again—longer this time, more pressure, and xiaoshi keened, thighs trembling around his head. lu guang held him open, steady, unwavering. his tongue moved with purpose—firm, coaxing, mapping xiaoshi’s body from the inside out.

xiaoshi was falling apart. every breath left him in hiccups, his skin flushed from his ears to his stomach, slick and scent pouring out of him in waves now. he couldn’t even hold still.

lu guang didn’t mind.

he kept going, patient and unhurried. he circled the rim, stroked just inside, getting him used to the feeling. preparing him.

by the time lu guang pulled back, xiaoshi was soaked and pliant, his thighs splayed shamelessly, body twitching with every brush of air against his skin.

lu guang sat up on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“you’re beautiful,” he said again.

xiaoshi just buried his face in a pillow and groaned.

lu guang chuckled low, his hand brushing back xiaoshi’s bangs. “hey.”

“…what.”

“still okay?”

“…mmh.”

“you ready for more?”

there was a pause. then a shy, breathless nod.

lu guang leaned forward to kiss his temple. “good.”

he reached over, grabbing the small bottle of slick enhancer from the drawer—he always kept one nearby. just in case.

xiaoshi blinked when he saw it. “wait, do you—uh—need that?”

“you’re wet,” lu guang murmured, pressing a kiss behind xiaoshi’s ear, “but not relaxed yet. and i’m not risking hurting you. i want you to feel good. only good.”

he warmed the slick between his fingers, and then brought them down, gently parting xiaoshi again.

“i’ll use my fingers first.”

xiaoshi nodded, gripping the pillow harder.

the first finger slid in with care, and xiaoshi whimpered, his back arching.

“shh,” lu guang soothed. “you’re doing great.”

the second came slower. lu guang scissored gently, stroking along xiaoshi’s inner walls, watching for every flinch, every twitch. he murmured praise in between each movement, voice soft and steady.

“you’re so tight, xiaoshi. so warm… you’re letting me in so well.”

when the third slid in, xiaoshi cried out, his hands flying up to cover his face again.

“don’t hide from me,” lu guang whispered. “look at me.”

and somehow—he did.

tear-glossed eyes, red cheeks, lips bitten swollen—and still, still xiaoshi looked up at him, blinking through the haze of sensation like he wanted to be good. wanted to take it. wanted to be claimed.

lu guang’s eyes burned.

“ready?”

“…y-yeah.”

and lu guang finally—finally—pressed himself forward, slowly, carefully, the head of his cock nudging at xiaoshi’s entrance, body taut with restraint. his rut was screaming, begging, but xiaoshi’s comfort came first.

and as he pushed in—

xiaoshi gasped, hands flying up to grip at lu guang’s arms, fingers curling tight.

it was too much, and not enough, all at once.

lu guang was big—thick, hot, stretching—and every inch that pressed inside of him was a slow burn that dragged tears to his eyes. his body tried to resist, to clench down, but lu guang’s hands stayed steady on his thighs, holding him in place, voice murmuring low against his temple.

“you’re okay. you’re doing so well, xiaoshi.”

xiaoshi whimpered.

he wanted to protest, to tell him he wasn’t doing anything, that he didn’t know how to do this, that he felt like his body was melting, splitting, being rewritten around the shape of the alpha above him. but every time he tried to speak, only broken breaths came out.

lu guang pushed in deeper.

halfway now, and xiaoshi’s body trembled violently, slick dripping between them as his scent thickened, fogging the room with omega sweetness. his legs instinctively tried to wrap around lu guang’s waist—but they shook too much to hold.

“you’re taking me so well,” lu guang whispered again, forehead pressed against xiaoshi’s. “just a little more.”

a final roll of his hips, and he was fully seated inside—buried to the hilt.

xiaoshi moaned, the sound almost sobbing.

they both froze.

lu guang’s breath was ragged, his control fraying by the second. he’d never felt this kind of tight, velvet heat before—never been inside someone so soft, so reactive, so utterly his.

he kissed xiaoshi hard then—needing the distraction, the grounding. his hips twitched once, a small involuntary grind, and xiaoshi choked on the gasp it pulled from him.

“move,” xiaoshi whimpered against his lips, breathless and flushed and already unraveling. “please, move, guang—𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢—”

lu guang groaned aloud at the sound of that.

that one word—𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢, breathy and desperate and whispered like prayer—snapped what little restraint he had left. his rut surged, claiming instinct pulsing through every nerve, every movement, and this time when he rolled his hips, he meant it.

xiaoshi cried out.

the slow rhythm started—deep, dragging thrusts that made xiaoshi writhe beneath him, arching up for more, chasing friction, chasing fullness. lu guang’s hands gripped tighter on his waist, guiding him into each stroke, forcing him to feel all of it.

the way he clenched so sweetly around him.

the way his voice broke into soft, shocked moans.

the way his scent bloomed with every thrust, thick with submission and wanting.

“you’re mine,” lu guang said lowly, voice rough with possessive heat. “all of this—is mine.”

xiaoshi nodded, barely able to think, pupils blown wide. “y-yes—yes, yours—”

lu guang grunted and leaned in, mouth dragging over the soft skin of xiaoshi’s throat, then nipping—teasing—scenting. his canines grazed skin he shouldn’t bite yet, not without a bond, but instinct made him hover there, panting.

xiaoshi noticed.

his fingers slid shakily into lu guang’s hair. “you… want to—?”

lu guang growled softly, and it wasn’t angry.

it was want.

he thrust deeper, grinding into xiaoshi’s prostate with unerring precision, and the omega gasped, head falling back, mouth open.

“guang—!”

“you’re doing so well,” lu guang praised, moving faster now, heat building thick and hot in the room. “so beautiful like this. i could lose myself in you.”

xiaoshi whined, his body rocking with every thrust now, overstimulated and clinging, lips red and eyes dazed. “feels—feels so full—”

“you’re made for me.”

lu guang’s voice dropped further, almost a growl.

“you’re made for me to fill, to claim, to keep.”

xiaoshi moaned brokenly. “please, please—”

lu guang groaned again, pace stuttering. the pressure was building. his knot was swelling.

he didn’t push it yet—he kept moving, coaxing xiaoshi closer with each slow grind—but his hands held xiaoshi tighter now, breath uneven, hips jerking. he was close. so close.

“you’re mine,” he repeated, thrusting harder, “mine, mine, mine—”

and xiaoshi shattered.

his orgasm hit hard, sharp, wet. his whole body curled in on itself, clenching around lu guang with punishing tightness, and he sobbed out lu guang’s name like it was all he knew. slick and release spilled between them, soaking the sheets, scenting the air like belonging.

lu guang wasn’t far behind.

he buried himself to the hilt, knot swelling suddenly, locking them together in one last sharp, final thrust.

and then he came.

it was hot and endless, pulse after pulse of release deep inside xiaoshi, and the omega moaned again at the sensation—so full, too full, stuffed to the point of being bred.

lu guang collapsed over him, careful not to crush him, but too spent to move far. their bodies were locked together, skin sticky with sweat and scent, the room heavy with heat and satisfied tension.

for a while, neither spoke.

only the sound of xiaoshi’s soft breathing, and lu guang’s quiet heart pounding against his back.

then, gently, lu guang kissed the crown of xiaoshi’s head.

“you did so well,” he murmured. “so perfect.”

xiaoshi let out a sleepy whine, his hand finding lu guang’s and lacing their fingers together.

“…still jealous?” he mumbled.

lu guang huffed softly against his skin. “no. not anymore.”

xiaoshi tried to pout. it didn’t last long.

eventually, he sighed, burying his face back in lu guang’s shoulder with a huff. “next time, just tell me you’re feeling possessive before you try to impregnate me through the mattress.”

lu guang chuckled softly against his hair. “noted.”

there was silence again for a beat—until xiaoshi mumbled, almost shyly this time, “...but, i guess i didn’t mind.”

lu guang smiled.

“i know.”