Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sometimes Jaemin wonders if he has drunk too much coffee that it has lost its effects on his brain. He is almost done with his iced americano, the second one in the last hour, and he can not clear the fog in his brain.

Jaemin is supposed to be looking at his tablet, over the complex process simulation data for the distillation column sequence he’s been working on since last week but he could care less about it right now.

Instead, his eyes stay locked on the curve of Donghyuck’s jawline, how the late afternoon sun pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their favorite in campus coffee shop, how it catches on the vibrant, freshly dyed cherry red of Donghyuck’s hair.

The sunlight casts a warm, golden glaze over his tan skin, highlighting the tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose that Jaemin has privately mapped out a thousand times. Donghyuck’s lips are slightly parted, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he scribbles notes into a music sheet ledger, completely focused on his vocal performance assignment.

Jaemin reaches up, his fingers absentmindedly brushing through his own copper locks. The heavy scent of the chemical dye still lingers faintly beneath his fresh, sharp yet sweet scent of peach and mint. They had gone to the salon together just three days ago, sitting side-by-side in the spinning chairs for four hours. Jaemin likes to think they match now, a deliberate, bleeding gradient of cherry red and warm copper. It’s a stupid, comforting thought he keeps close to his heart.

Because he is completely, utterly gone for Donghyuck, longing for his own best friend.

The pining is a quiet ache that started all the way back in their first year during the second semester. Jaemin had pinned a paper flier to the student union bulletin board, looking for another omega to share the financial burden of a two-bedroom apartment near a bus stop downtown just a short ride from campus. Donghyuck had torn the number off the bottom, called him twenty minutes later with that charming tilt to his voice, and within two months of moving in together, Jaemin was wrapped around the omega’s finger. They clicked so easily, they shared groceries, argued over the temperature of the living room, and were there for each other through exhausting exam weeks.

And for close to three years, Jaemin has been an absolute coward about it.

He shifts slightly in his chair, his peach scent turning a fraction more sour with the sudden spike of internal anxiety. He hasn't said a word about his feelings, has kept the mask perfectly, too terrified to shift the peace of their shared home.

The worst part is what he knows about his romantic life, or well, interests. Jaemin knows for a fact that Donghyuck is also into omegas, he’s into betas and alphas too, men, and women alike. Donghyuck’s heart is big, welcoming of anyone, his warm scent of honey and blood orange bleeding into the apartment whenever he’s infatuated. He has dated around, slept around, brought various different people back to their apartment throughout university, while Jaemin has been forced to sit on the couch and watch the parade.

Jaemin’s own parameters are strictly limited. He is exclusively into male omegas and male betas. He has never looked at a woman, and his omega is entirely uninterested in -and often hostile toward- alphas. The only alpha he tolerates in his immediate circle is his childhood friend Jisung, whom Jaemin views strictly as a giant, clumsy baby brother. Jaemin has tried to move on. He even dated a remarkably pretty omega from the arts department for all of  three months last year, forcing himself through the motions of a relationship, but it had failed. Every time he closed his eyes, the scent of honey ruined his attempts.

Donghyuck suddenly lets out a soft, melodious hum, testing a vocal register under his breath. The sweet, rich sound goes directly to Jaemin, right to the center of his chest.

Jaemin quickly drops his gaze back down to his tablet, his thumb scrolling through a row of process data he isn't actually reading, his heart beating hard against his ribs as he prays the sudden flush of pink on his neck looks like nothing more than a trick of the light.

"If you stare at that any harder, Nana, you're going to burn it into your retinas," Donghyuck’s voice suddenly breaks the quiet. He finally sets his pen down, leaning his chin into his palm as his bright eyes fix on Jaemin. 

Jaemin doesn't blink, his deadpan mask locking instantly back into place. "It's a multi-stage distillation simulation, Hyuck. If my reflux ratio is off by even a fraction of a percent, the entire system crashes. It requires a level of focus I can't expect a performing arts major comprehends."

"Oh, please," Donghyuck lets out a high-pitched giggle, reaching across the table to flip a stray lock of Jaemin’s copper hair. "You've been staring at the exact same lines for twenty minutes, don't use that sharp tongue of yours to cover up the fact that your brain is completely fried. Did you stay up until three playing games with Jisung again? I swear that kid is a terrible influence, alpha growth spurt or not."

"More like listening to him rant about it, you know I don't play videogames," Jaemin mutters, swatting Donghyuck's hand away with a flick of his wrist, though the faint tingle where Donghyuck's fingers touched his skin makes the mint in his scent flare a bit softer. "Unlike you, some of us actually practice charity."

"Did someone say charity? Because if you're giving out handouts, I need someone to fund my final print portfolio," a sharp, dry voice cuts through their bickering.

Renjun slides into the empty seat on Jaemin’s right, dropping a heavy tote bag onto the floor. His calming, crisp scent of white tea and jasmine immediately cuts through the heavy fruit notes at the table, bringing a welcome sense of clean, beta order. Right behind are Minjeong and Jungwoo, the oldest balancing a tray of iced drinks and the youngest a plate of lemon tarts.

"Don't look at him for money, Injun," Minjeong says softly, though her voice carries a playful edge. She slides into the seat next to Donghyuck, instantly setting up her own tablet beside his music ledger. Her delicate, bright fragrance of white freesia blooms across the table. "Jaemin spent his entire allowance for the month on that specialized simulation software, he's living on instant ramen until June."

"It's an investment in my future, Min," Jaemin drawls, not even attempting a denial as he watches her carefully organize her workspace. "Which, by the way, you should be studying for too. Professor Park isn't going to let you pass the process design lab just because you look cute in your winter coat."

"I am studying," Minjeong shoots back defensively, wrinkling her nose as she taps her stylus against the screen. "I just spent three hours in the pharmaceutical wing. My brain needs sugar, not your bitter ass." 

"Now, now, my beautiful omegas, let's not fight among ourselves," Jungwoo chimes in with an endearing smile. He slides into the empty chair on Jaemin’s left, his soft, clean scent of powdery cotton radiating off his oversized sweater like a soothing balm to everyone's frayed midterm nerves. He dotes on everyone instantly, distributing the iced Americanos with a mother-hen efficiency. "Look what I got us. And guess what? I just finalized the reservation for a weekend trip for summer break! I know it's months away, but it's going to be amazing!"

Donghyuck groans dramatically, burying his face in his hands. "Jungwoo, please. It is literally the middle of May. You’re already making us mark days off our calendars for summer break? What if I'm in the middle of a wild and romantic summer love by then? My chances will be completely ruined because you decided right now that you want us to go camping somewhere."

Jaemin feels a sharp, familiar sting cut straight through his chest at the words ‘wild and romantic summer love’, but he forces his face to remain entirely blank, staring down at his screen.

"I am absolutely not going camping anywhere," Renjun adds immediately, rolling his eyes as he takes a slow sip of his americano. "Especially if you are dragging Yizhuo along. Her shrill laughter will make all the wild beasts in the mountain come straight for us and I refuse to be mauled because a kid found a beetle in her tent."

"She's eighteen, Renjunie, let her live," Jungwoo giggles, leaning over across Jaemin to pull Renjun closer and scent-rub his cheek against his shoulder in a highly affectionate gesture that diffuses the beta's irritation. "Besides, camping is great for expanding our horizons beyond our own little bubble."

"A bubble sounds perfectly fine, fewer bugs to deal with," Jaemin grumbles, pushing his thoughts of Donghyuck's idealized romance into a dark corner of his mind. "I'm not going camping anywhere, period."

"I agree," Minjeong says deadpanning at their oldest friend. "And honestly, Jungwoo, Jisung would probably have a literal heart attack if we forced him into the woods. He loses his mind when a moth gets into his dorm room."

As they keep bickering, Jaemin catches Donghyuck reaching over to steal a piece of Minjeong’s lemon tart, his tan skin so pretty as he laughs at her indignant protest, at how she slightly curls her pink lips back to show him her teeth. The warm, tangy scent of blood orange flares up again, bright and intoxicating, leaving Jaemin’s chest tightening with that same helpless ache as he watches the only person he actually wants.

The light from the television screen flashes over the living area of his shared apartment, but Jeno isn't processing a single frame of the action movie playing.

Instead, he is entirely focused on the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of Mark’s shoulder beneath his cheek. They are crammed onto the large, gray sectional couch, the one Jeno and Jimin split the cost on when they signed the lease for this place, and Jeno has his large frame completely melted against Mark’s side.

It’s comfortable, Mark’s faint, grounding beta scent of sandalwood and warm vanilla is a quiet, subtle hum in Jeno’s nose, completely contrasting the scents of the alphas currently around them. Jeno’s own smoked cedar and burnt sugar scent is low and heavy, bleeding into the fabric of Mark’s oversized hoodie as he shifts closer.

It's close to a full year now, since Jeno’s purely platonic affections for the beta shifted into something more, something deeper. He is an alpha, yes, and his inner alpha doesn’t get a raging, primal rush from a beta’s flat scent, the lack of pheromones, but Jeno himself, the actual person, does not care. 

He wants Mark. 

He wants the earnest, hardworking guy who stays up late scribble-writing in old notebooks, the guy who gets hopelessly clumsy with his words but holds a deeper emotional intelligence than anyone else Jeno has ever met.

To get Mark to see him as something more than just a younger alpha friend, Jeno had even made a key change in his lifestyle.

Before last year, Jeno had earned a notorious reputation within the campus body. Jimin and Chenle still teased him mercilessly about it, calling him an absolute whore for all the casual, no-strings-attached hookups he ran through without ever committing to a single date, even when ‘admires’ would brave ask for one. 

But the second Mark took root in his head Jeno had almost completely cut off the hunt for a good time with a pretty man or woman, the empty morning-afters in a desperate hope that Mark might eventually notice the change, might look at him and see a partner worth keeping, even if Jeno is already in his last year of university.

"Hey, pass the popcorn before Chenle inhales the entire bowl," Jimin’s smooth voice cuts through the movie's explosive audio from the other end of the couch. She is lounging with her ankles crossed over the coffee table, her sophisticated alpha scent of black tea seeping how tired she is.

Across the room, Chenle lets out a slow unapologetic, near mocking, laugh, pulling the ceramic bowl closer to his chest as he sits cross-legged on a floor cushion. His sharp, vibrant scent of crisp bergamot and sea salt flares with joy. "If you wanted some, ‘Rina, you should have grabbed it when I went to the kitchen.”

"You're a brat," Aeri mutters from the armchair, not even looking up from her phone as she curates a new playlist. Being a beta, she is entirely immune to the subtle pressure of Chenle's loud alpha presence, her own green apple scent faint surrounded by alphas. "Mark, tell him he's being a brat."

Mark lets out a soft chuckle, the movement making Jeno’s head move but stays in place. "Chenle, come on, share, Giselle is right, don't make Karina use her alpha voice on you. Again."

Jeno sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling the comforting, warm vanilla of Mark's scent, letting the bickering of his friends fade into background noise as he silently memorizes the exact weight of Mark's arm resting against his back.

The chime of the front door being unlocked and then open makes him blink his eyes open.

Jungwoo burst past the opened door and into the living area after kicking his shoes off at the entrance and right on his heels was Jaehyun, his white wine scent trailing behind him. Without a single word, Jungwoo marched straight into the center of the room, standing directly in front of the television screen.

"Hey!" Chenle whines, glaring at their friends.

Before the younger alpha could launch into a full complaint, Jaehyun leaned down with a dimpled, easy grin and snatched the ceramic bowl of popcorn right out of Chenle’s lap. He casually drops into the empty spot on the couch next to Jimin, who lets out a happy laugh, looking thoroughly smug at Chenle for getting successfully robbed of the snacks he had refused to share just moments ago.

"Pay attention to me, everyone! The movie can wait!" Jungwoo demands, clapping his hands together. His soft, clean scent of powdery cotton flaring with an intense, sugary excitement. He looks entirely radiant, bouncing slightly on his feet.

Mark makes a cute confused sound, shifting in place but keeping his arm steady around his torso. "What's going on? Did something happen with your program?"

"Better!" Jungwoo practically squeals, holding up his phone even if he must know nobody can make sense of what he’s showing. He is currently in his second year of post-grad and the sheer joy on his face is clear. "The Grand InterContinental Seoul. The director of corporate events called me today. My placement just got upgraded to a full-time, permanent Event Coordinator contract the second I graduate! I’m officially employed!"

The room instantly erupts. Chenle lets out a loud cheer, slamming his hand against the floor, while Aeri looks up from her phone with a wide, impressed smile. "Wow, Jungwoo! That’s huge!”

"I know! Which is exactly why we are celebrating," Jungwoo says, pointing a dramatic, warning finger at every single person in the room. "Tomorrow night. Seven o'clock sharp. I just locked down the private back room at my favorite traditional barbecue place down by the campus gate. I am inviting all my friends, and you all better be there, no excuses, and no being late!"

Jimin’s black tea scent suddenly takes on a distinctly lighter, happier edge. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across her face as she leans back against the cushions. "All your friends? So that means Minjeong is coming?"

"Of course she is," Jungwoo huffs, rolling his eyes affectionately at her. "I already texted her and Hyuckie. They're bringing the rest of them too, so yes, Jimin, your girlfriend will be there. Now, Mark, Jeno, give me a verbal confirmation right now. Are you coming?"

Jeno keeps his head pressed against Mark’s shoulder, his heart giving a small, nervous flutter at the prospect of a massive, combined dinner with a whole new crowd of people. But as Mark’s chest rumbles with a soft laugh beneath his cheek, Jeno looks up, his dark eyes fixing on Mark’s profile as the older nods.

"We will be there dude," Mark promises easily, his fingers gently tapping Jeno’s hip. "Wouldn't miss it."

Jeno sits with his thigh pressed firmly against Mark’s under the low wooden table, the private backroom of the BBQ place filled with the savory smell of the sizzling pork belly, the oils and fresh lettuce, he listens to Chenle and Jaehyun bicker over who gets ownership of the tongs. Aeri sits right next to Chenle, entirely unbothered by the noise as she helps herself to the side dishes. Jimin is already settled deep into the corner booth, completely turned out of their ruckus because her girlfriend, Minjeong is stuck to her side, having arrived together, the omega looks incredibly shy in the room, her delicate freesia scent practically hidden beneath the heavy, protective black tea radiating from Jimin’s denim jacket on her shoulders.

"They're here!" Jungwoo suddenly chirps, bouncing up from his seat near the sliding screen door.

The remaining seats are filled and the sudden influx of new faces and scents floods the tight space. Once everyone finally shuffles into their spots, Jungwoo takes charge of the room, loudly running through the introductions for everyone present. He pairs names with personalized, teasing comments, making sure the two circles finally blend together, throwing in a warning that while Renjun, the small beta, might look innocent, his bite is worse than most alphas and refuses to elaborate on why he knows of this.

Jeno nods politely as the names go around, but his eyes naturally linger just a beat longer when they reach the omega now sitting directly across from him.

Na Jaemin. 

He has quite the reputation on campus, known as the strikingly beautiful, effortlessly pretty, and handsome engineering omega that everyone covets from a distance. But the most notorious piece of campus gossip attached to his name is his absolute, cold refusal to engage with alphas. It’s an open secret that he rejects every single one who approaches him, harboring a blunt hostility toward them, he doesn't even keep them as friends, save for the young Jisung sitting a few seats down.

Right now, Jaemin is doing a remarkably bad job of hiding how tense he is facing so many alphas at once. He sits straight, shoulders tense, jaw locked, sandwiched between Donghyuck and Jungwoo, two omegas for an inkling of comfort surrounded by the scent of fellow omegas.

Their proximity hits Jeno's senses without his will. Beneath the heavy smoke of the grill, a fresh, sharp yet sweet fragrance of peach and crushed mint cuts through the air. It’s entirely 'untouched', completely devoid of any lingering, heavy alpha marking or possessive pheromones.

Deep inside Jeno’s chest, his alpha suddenly peeks its head out. The primal, dormant part of his biology reacts instantly to the raw, unclaimed sweetness of the pretty omega across the table, making his gums ache with a sudden throb behind his canines.

Jeno catches himself immediately. He forces his jaw to relax, reeling the instinct back down into the dark before a single note of his scent can give him away.

He is not a beast, for fuck's sake. He doesn't do primal posturing, and more importantly, his heart is already completely occupied by the beta sitting right next to him.

Jeno shifts his weight, deliberately bumping his shoulder against Mark’s to ground himself, forcing his eyes away from Jaemin’s tense, guarded posture and back to the safety of his own side of the table.

The faint burn of the strawberry soju does little to soothe the tight knot in Jaemin’s stomach, but he downs the shot anyway, letting the sweet artificial fruit flavor coat his tongue.

A few minutes ago, that Chenle brat had made some loud, smirking joke about how of course the omegas at the table would gravitate toward the sweet, flavored stuff. Jaemin had simply leveled a flat, icy glare at the finance major over the rim of his glass, his bitter peach scent turning pointedly sour until Yizhuo stepped in, loudly nagging Chenle for being narrow-minded. Surprisingly, the friction didn't last. Chenle, Yizhuo, and Jisung had somehow clicked into a rapid-fire, high-energy conversation about gaming stuff within minutes, their loud voices completely dominating one end of the long table.

Jaemin keeps his deadpan face in place, his eyes idly scanning the room as he takes notes of how the people at it are mix and matching in conversations.

Aeri and Jimin are entirely focused on keeping a very shy Minjeong comfortable, Renjun is already deep into a surprisingly intense discussion about traditional art forms with Jaehyun and Jungwoo, and even Jeno throws in a quiet nod here and there.

Jaemin hasn’t directed a single word to any of the alphas. He hasn't even looked them in the eye.

When they first sat down, his internal omega had peeked its head up, curious at the sheer concentration of unfamiliar alpha scents in the room. Usually, whenever a strange alpha got too close, Jaemin's omega would simply scoff in irritation and retreat back into total, dormant silence where he could almost pretend it didn't exist. Tonight, however, it remained stubbornly attentive, cataloging the various heavy notes of smoked cedarwood and crisp bergamot until Jaemin mentally shoved the instinct back down into the dark, forcing it to behave.

He isn't blind, though. Objectively, he can admit that the alphas at this table, Jaehyun, Jeno, Chenle, and Jimin, are all incredibly attractive. They possess the kind of sharp, commanding presence that usually has the campus student body staring. But honestly, everyone at this table is beautiful, and Jaemin has absolutely zero interest in any of the alphas.

His eyes slide over to the space right beside him, and his chest immediately tightens. He has only ever had eyes for Donghyuck.

Which is exactly why Jaemin is currently sulking into his empty shot glass. Mark, the cheery betta that laughs too loud and when doing so hits the alpha beside him, Jeno, keeps saying things that make Donghyuck let out that loud, bright, unrestrained laugh of his. It’s infuriating how easily Mark can draw that response out of him.

The only saving grace, the only thing keeping Jaemin from completely drowning in his own silent misery -or in the soju- is the physical weight of Donghyuck’s body. Even while talking to Mark, Donghyuck instinctively leans against Jaemin's shoulder, his warm, intoxicating scent of blood orange and honey enveloping Jaemin completely.

"Jaem, hear this out," Donghyuck giggles, his hand blindly reaching out to tug at the sleeve of Jaemin’s jacket, actively trying to pull him into their conversation. "Mark just said this stupid thing, you have to hear it.”

Jaemin lets out a soft huff, but he allows himself to shift closer into Donghyuck’s warmth, his eyes softening just enough to let his best friend know he’s listening.

The next two weeks blur into a quiet, excruciating pattern of small shifts inside their apartment.

Jaemin notices the changes in the layout of their shared space first. It starts with a heavy ceramic cup that doesn't belong to either of them sitting in the sink, its bottom stained with the dark rings of a coffee blend Jaemin has never bought. Then it’s a gray knit sweater left slung over the back of one of their kitchen stool chairs, the fabric carrying a faint, stubborn trace of vanilla that cuts right through the familiar scent their home.

Mark is around. Not in a loud or intrusive way, but in the way of someone who has simply found a place in Donghyuck’s routine.

Usually, their apartment is a fortress of lazy, predictable domesticity but lately, Jaemin will walk through the front door after a long night of chemical engineering labs only to find the living room television low, Mark’s laptop spread out on the coffee table next to Donghyuck’s messy stack of sheet music.

"Oh, Jaeminie's home," Donghyuck will call out from the kitchen, his voice a low, sleepy drawl.

He always looks completely unbothered, his hair messy, his shoulder naturally brushing against Mark’s as leans against him by the kitchen counter, sharing drinks or sweet treats. There’s no heavy, charged atmosphere between them, no secret glances or sudden, awkward silence when Jaemin walks into the room.

It only ever seems to be platonic.

That’s the thing that keeps the panic from completely clawing its way up Jaemin’s throat. Donghyuck has always been like this. He’s touchy, loud, and affectionate with everyone he lets into his circle. He used to hang off Jaemin’s arm the exact same way during freshman year, pulling him through the campus crowds by his hand. It’s one of the things Jaemin adores most about the omega, that bright, uncalculating warmth that treats the world like a place that deserves to be hugged and loved.

But watching that same warmth extend effortlessly to Mark makes an ache settle beneath Jaemin’s ribs.

Every evening, Jaemin tells himself he needs to say something. He sits at his desk, staring at the blinking cursor of a simulation module, listening to the muffled sound of Donghyuck’s laughter filtering through the walls. The words form in his chest, neat and precise like the formulas he studies: ‘I’ve liked you for years. I don't want a future with anyone else.’

But the courage never comes.

The risk is a calculation that never balances out. If he confesses, he disrupts the perfect safety they have. He risks the apartment, the shared groceries, the comfortable mornings where Donghyuck uses his shoulder as a pillow because he’s too lazy to sit up. 

So he keeps his jaw locked, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup whenever he catches the faint smell of vanilla drifting down the hallway. He convinces himself that as long as it stays friendly, as long as it stays soft and predictable like this, he can handle the pining. 

And yet, when two weeks of this leads to him accepting Jungwoo’s invite to the now huge group of friends to go clubbing, he finds himself standing by the full-length mirror in his bedroom, reflecting a version of Jaemin that feels entirely weaponized.

He’s spent an hour getting dolled up, the sheer determination in his chest forcing him to pay attention to every detail. He’s wearing a black silk shirt under a structured leather jacket that hugs his shoulders perfectly, the silver chains against his collarbone catching the light with every movement. He’s done his makeup with a sharp, deliberate precision, a touch of dark, smudged liner accentuating the intensity of his gaze, his copper hair styled back into that perfectly soft messy look that has nothing messy about it.

Tonight is the night. He’s set his mind on it completely. He’s going to find Donghyuck in the middle of the crowd, pull him away from the noise, and lay his bleeding heart all out.

But the moment they step inside the downtown club just a couple blocks away from their apartment, his plan shatters as he loses Donghyuck within minutes.

The bass reaches his bones, a heavy, electronic thing that vibrates straight to his spine. The air is thick with the suffocating smell of alcohol, smoke, spilled energy drinks, and a dense overlap of competing scents.

Jaemin stands near the edge of the booth his friends claimed on the second floor, his hand tightening around the cold metal bar. He’s scanning the room, his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he searches for that specific shade of cherry red.

"Oh my god, look!" Jungwoo suddenly is beside him, shouting over the roar of the speakers, pointing directly into the center of the crowded dance floor.

Jaemin’s gaze follows his finger. His breath hitches, his lungs freezing as the world around him seems to stop because there Donghyuck is in the center of the crowd, wrapped completely around Mark, dancing entirely too close to be just friends. Donghyuck’s hips are grinding flush against Mark's with a slow, shameless rhythm under the flashing lights, his fingers buried deep in the collar of Mark’s shirt.

Before Jaemin can even process the sight, Mark leans down, crashing his lips against Donghyuck’s in a deep, hungry kiss.

They are making out right there on the floor, completely oblivious to the way Jaemin’s heart breaks, unable to look away as Donghyuck’s back arches against Mark's hands as the kiss deepens into something desperate and possessive.

The courage he had spent the whole evening building evaporates into nothing, leaving a hollow, bleeding ache in his chest. He needs to look away, but as his gaze wildly darts across the place, trying to find an exit, it lands on a rigid silhouette standing directly opposite him near the lower bar.

It’s Jeno.

The alpha is standing completely frozen against the neon-lit wall. He isn't moving a muscle, his jaw set in a line so tight Jaemin feels the ghost ache of it. Jeno’s eyes are fixed on the exact same spot on the dance floor.

The light flashes, catching the precise moment Jeno’s eyes tear away from Mark and looks up, directly across the crowded club, their gazes locking together.

Through the smoke and the colorful lights, Jaemin catches the raw look in Jeno’s dark eyes. There is no alpha pride there. It is a badly masked, devastating heartbreak, the exact same jagged reflection that Jaemin can feel tearing him apart.

Without a word, Jaemin moves. He abandons Jungwoo at the railing, pushing his way through the sweating crowd until he reaches the lower bar. He drops heavily onto the empty stool right next to Jeno, the alpha having shared the same plan of attempting to drink it away, and slaps his palm against the counter to flag down the bartender.

"Two double shots of vodka," Jaemin orders, his voice flat, barely carrying over the bass.

Jeno doesn't look surprised to see him. He just slowly turns his head, his dark leather jacket shifting as he glares at the two glasses the bartender slides across the sticky surface.

"Make it four," Jeno corrects smoothly, his voice low and dead.

They knock the first shots back in complete, synchronized silence, the burning liquor doing absolutely nothing to soothe the noise in Jaemin's brain. Jeno slams his glass down, his eyes fixed on the condensation pooling on the counter.

"How long?" Jeno asks quietly, not specifying a name because he doesn't have to.

"Since freshman year," Jaemin replies, a self-deprecating, bitter smirk twisting his lips as he stares at his own empty glass. He tilts his head back, looking up at Jeno’s tense profile. "I was going to tell him tonight, actually. I spent an hour getting dolled up for a confession that now will never be given."

Jeno lets out a low, humorless huff, his broad shoulders dropping just a fraction as the dependable, steady mask he wears begins to crack. He reaches for the second shot, his fingers steady but his eyes hollow.

"A year for me," Jeno murmurs. "I kept telling myself it was safer to just stay the dependable best friend. That if I didn't push him, I wouldn't lose what we had and maybe he would notice me in a different light."

"So much for us waiting, uh?" Jaemin rasps, his throat tight as he watches Jeno down the second shot. 

There’s a strange, grounding comfort in the shared grief. They are completely different but right now, they are the only two people in the room who understand the exact weight of what was shattered on the dance floor.

"To being the reliable best friends," Jeno says bitterly, lifting his second glass in a mock toast.

Jaemin clinks his glass against Jeno's, the sound lost beneath the pounding bass. "To keeping our mouths shut."

The burning sting of the alcohol settles into a heavy, dull heat in the pit of Jaemin’s stomach, smoothing out the jagged edges of the panic and heartache. Around them, the club is still a chaotic blur of overlapping bass and flashing strobes of light. They end up standing and going down to the corner of the bar, more hidden from sight as if that could bring them any comfort, ordering more shots that will go into a shared tab under Jungwoo’s name.

Jeno is leaning his elbows against the counter, his large hands loosely curled around his last emptied shot glass. His head is tilted down, a few dark strands of hair falling over his forehead. Jaemin can only watch the slow rise and fall of Jeno’s broad shoulders beneath the heavy leather jacket. 

Over the last two weeks, their friend groups had merged with a frustratingly easy speed, forcing them into the same booths when grabbing dinner and onto the same living room floors for movie and game nights. They hadn’t spoken more than a handful of sentences to each other during those hangouts. Jeno was quiet, almost painfully shy when he wasn't around Mark, Jimin or Chenle, and Jaemin had simply zero interest in making an effort with an alpha. Jisung was his only exception. Alpha strangers with their dominant traits usually made Jaemin’s skin itch, his omega putting up defensive walls around them.

But right now, standing just a step away from Jeno, those walls are entirely absent.

The alcohol makes Jaemin’s head feel heavy, without really thinking about it, his shoulder slumps sideways, the black silk of his shirt brushing against the rough, cold leather of Jeno’s sleeve until his upper arm is resting completely against Jeno’s side, truly noticing the height the alpha has on him, and while Jaemin isn’t short, he can’t help feel small.

He waits for the familiar, visceral prickle of discomfort, waits for his lungs to reject the alpha scent his nose can properly catch now.

Instead, Jeno’s scent shifts, a low, quiet drift of something dark and grounded, like woodsmoke after rain and burnt sugar. It doesn't carry that aggressive, territorial pressure that usually makes Jaemin want to claw his way out of a room. It’s just heavy, soothing somehow, it wraps around Jaemin’s senses like a thick, weighted blanket, settling into his throat that actually, somehow, makes it easier to breathe.

"It’s stupid," Jeno mutters, his voice dropping into a low, jagged rasp that Jaemin can feel vibrating straight through the leather where their arms are pressed together. Jeno doesn't move away from the contact, if anything, he shifts his weight slightly, leaning back into Jaemin’s side as if the pressure is the only thing keeping him standing. "I spent all of last week already helping Mark draft his schedule for the next semester. I knew exactly which days he’d be busy. I was planning to buy the expensive coffee he likes and just… show up at his studio."

"I have his laundry in my basket right now," Jaemin drawls back, a bitter, bubbly little chuckle escaping his lips as he stares at the neon green light reflecting on the counter. "His gray sweater he abandoned in my kitchen.”

Jeno turns his head slowly, up close, he looks unraveled, his jaw set but his lips slightly parted, a raw vulnerability exposed to Jaemin’s attentive gaze.

"We look pathetic," Jeno says quietly.

"We do," Jaemin agrees, his eyes dropping to Jeno’s mouth before he can stop himself.

The alcohol is buzzing in his veins, a hazy warmth that slows down everything, but his brain is still sharp enough to recognize the sudden tension of the moment. He isn't so far gone that he can blame what’s happening on the shots. It’s the suffocating heartbreak, mixed with the sudden, terrifying realization that Jeno’s proximity doesn't feel wrong. 

In fact, it feels like the only safe place left.

It also doesn’t help Jaemin much, how he does find the other male attractive. Jeno is handsome, with his black hair and undercut, pale skin, dark eyes with long eyelashes, plump lips and that big nose that just enhances how handsome he is. He is also so nicely built, with a small waist, long legs, thick thighs, his broad back, even his neck is pretty.

Jaemin shifts where he stands, leaning a bit more on the alpha, finding himself turning so he can face him better, and unconsciously, looks up at him in a way that bares too much of his neck, a sight that has Jeno’s breath hitching.

"Jaemin," Jeno whispers, his voice dropping into a low, jagged thing that gets a sudden unexpected shiver running down Jaemin's spine.

"What?" Jaemin breathes, his fingers reaching out to grip the lapel of Jeno’s leather jacket, pulling him just a bit closer until the smell of cedarwood and burnt sugar is the only thing filling his head.

Jeno doesn't hesitate. He reaches for Jaemin’s waist, his fingers wrapping around it, his grip firm and insistent as he pulls him forward until their chests press together. He tilts his head down, his dark eyes locking onto Jaemin’s for a single second before he closes the distance, crashing their lips together in a kiss that is heavy, hungry, and thick with a shared, desperate grief.

The impact sends a spark straight to Jaemin’s core. He lets out a soft, broken moan against Jeno’s mouth, his hands sliding up from the leather to fist into the dark hair at the nape of Jeno’s neck, pulling him down harder.

It’s a deep, messy thing. Jeno’s tongue is hot, sliding against his with a reckless, demanding pressure that feels like an attempt to burn away the memory of what they saw on the dance floor. Jaemin meets him halfway, his back arching in Jeno’s arms, his lips parting completely as they slide into a heavy, breathless make-out session right against the edge of the bar.

The wet sound of their breaths and smacking lips is entirely swallowed by the club, but to Jaemin, the world outside the heat of Jeno’s mouth has completely ceased to exist. Jeno’s grip on his waist tightens, his thumb tracing a hard, comforting circle through the silk of Jaemin's shirt, pulling him so flush against his broad frame that there's no mistaking the raw reaction between them.

They are entirely ruined, drunk on vodka and devastation, but as Jaemin buries himself deeper into the sharp, comforting drag of Jeno’s mouth, he knows he won’t be able to blame a single second of it on the alcohol tomorrow morning.

Jeno’s mouth moves with a bruising intensity that knocks the remaining air out of Jaemin’s lungs. He crowds Jaemin against the edge of the bar, his broad frame cutting off the rest of the club until there is nothing left but the hot, heavy friction of his lips and the demanding slide of his tongue.

And then, beneath the alcohol and the grief, something deep within his chest snaps awake.

His omega, under the heavy press of Jeno's broad chest and the firm, possessive grip of his hand on Jaemin's waist, is practically wagging its tail. It’s a visceral surrender that floods his veins with a dizzying rush of heat. The instinct doesn't feel like a threat, it feels like a soft, pleading urge to just stop fighting, to submit, to be a good omega for this alpha. It urges him to let Jeno take the lead, to let Jeno’s dominant, quiet strength carry the weight of the wreckage they are both drowning in.

Jaemin lets out a helpless, broken whimper against Jeno's lips, his body going entirely soft and pliant in the alpha's arms, arching up into the hold as Jeno’s thumb digs hard into the silk at his waist. 

The alpha is the one to break away, his breaths are coming in short, ragged gasps against Jaemin’s cheek, his nose tracing a slow line down to the sensitive corner of Jaemin’s jaw, his scent spiking with a thick, protective possessiveness that makes Jaemin’s knees go weak and he is craning his neck back again before he can stop himself, offering himself so easily a more sober and controlled Jaemin would be aghast at.

Jaemin’s eyes blink open, his vision blurry, the flashing lights of the club slowly coming back into focus. His lips feel swollen, burning, and his smudged eyeliner feels heavy against his skin. Jeno is staring down at him, his dark eyes wide and unblinking, his chest heaving under his leather jacket. His skin is flushed, his breathing heavy and rough as his fingers stay locked around Jaemin's waist.

They are both shivering, the silence between them stretching. Jaemin swallows hard, trying to clear the dry, sweet lump in his throat. He looks at Jeno’s mouth, then back up to his eyes. The cold downtown air is waiting just outside the doors, and the thought of going back to an empty bed while Donghyuck is out on the dance floor makes him feel sick.

"Jeno," Jaemin rasps, his voice dropping into a low, sweet thing, a tilt to it turning it into almost a whine. He reaches down, his blunt fingernails curling lightly around the silver zipper of Jeno's jacket. "My place is.. it's a short walk from here, just ten minutes."

He takes a shallow breath, his eyes locking onto Jeno's with an unbidden, desperate clarity.

"Do you want to come back with me?"

The front door of the apartment clicks shut, leaving them in a quiet, dark entrance. The air here is immediately different, thin and cool, smelling faintly of the mix of the scents of the two omegas that reside here, his alpha zeroing on the peach and mint notes.

Jaemin doesn't drop his hand, he guides Jeno through the open layout to one of the bedroom doors. When the door pushes open, Jeno’s alpha is hit with a soaring wave of pure, possessive heat.

The small room is practically overflowing with Jaemin's scent, a thick, concentrated cloud of sweet honey that hits the back of Jeno's throat. But it’s the bed that makes Jeno's posture instantly straighten, a deep, primitive pride flaring up right against his ribs. The mattress is low to the floor, buried under a meticulous, heavy pile of hoodies and shirts, plush dolls, thick knit blankets, and countless soft pillows.

A nest.

A real, deeply personal omega nest. And Jaemin is pulling him straight into the center of it without a single second of hesitation or territorial panic.

A dark, smug satisfaction curls in the pit of Jeno’s stomach. It feels completely seamless, an unearned comfort that makes his inner alpha croon with a pleased, arrogant edge. This gorgeous, pristine omega is opening up his sanctuary as if they’ve done this a hundred times before, accepting Jeno’s heavy cedarwood and burnt sugar scent into his safest place. 

Jaemin stumbles backward just onto the pile of blankets after he turns on a bunny shaped lamp on his bedside table, his long legs parting just enough as he drags Jeno down by his collar. The impact is heavy, their chests colliding together as Jeno takes a moment too long to plant his forearms on either side of Jaemin’s head.

Before Jeno can even settle his weight, Jaemin arches up, his mouth crashing back against Jeno’s with a desperate, reckless hunger. He isn't holding back, hips lifting off the mattress, grinding up against Jeno’s thigh through his denim with a slow, agonizing friction that has Jeno’s jaw locking.

Jeno’s mind spins as he easily kisses back, his hands reaching down to fist into the soft blankets beneath Jaemin's shoulders. Up close, under the pale moonlight cutting through the window, Jaemin looks entirely ethereal, the smudged eyeliner making his intense gaze look impossibly dark, the silver chains around his neck clicking softly over his collarbones with every frantic breath.

He’s beautiful, completely breathtaking. They are almost the exact same age, Jeno is twenty-one already but Jaemin is still twenty, never having crossed paths during their university paths, and yet Jeno has heard the rumors about Na Jaemin for years, everyone has. Jaemin is the untouchable standard, a perfect mix of pretty and handsome that has more than half the campus turning their heads when he walks by. Alphas have tried to shoot their shot since freshman year, cornering him after engineering lectures or trying to buy him drinks at parties, but Jaemin has always turned them down with a cold, unyielding finality that left no room for negotiation.

Jeno had seen that utter lack of interest in alphas firsthand over the last two weeks. During those group hangouts at the barbecue joints or the movie nights, Jaemin had treated him almost as if he didn’t exist. There was no interest, no casual attempts to get to know him. Jaemin had kept his distance, his posture stiffening whenever Jeno or any other alpha that was not Jisung got too close. He rejected alphas completely, treating them like a nuisance he had no desire to bother with.

Yet here he is.

Jaemin lets out a broken, needy whine against Jeno’s lips, his fingers digging hard into the leather at Jeno’s shoulders, his body completely pliant, begging for the alpha to press him deeper into the mattress. He’s completely surrendered his rules, his instincts fully taking over as he shivers beneath Jeno’s stronger frame.

Jeno’s thumb slips under the hem of the black silk shirt, his blunt fingernails pressing into the hot, smooth skin of Jaemin's hip. The contrast is intoxicating, the cold, rigid omega who was supposed to be untouchable, melting entirely into Jeno's hands because they are both too broken. Jeno deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding dominant and sinful against Jaemin's, fully leaning into the smug, proud heat in his chest as he claims the nest for the night.

Jeno presses harder into the kiss, his tongue exploring Jaemin's mouth, heat building low in his gut as Jaemin's needy whines vibrate against his lips. He shifts his weight, rolling his hips down in a firm grind that lets his thickening cock rub along the seam of Jaemin's tight pants. The friction sends sparks up his spine, and he feels the answering twitch from the smaller body beneath his.

Jeno's fingers tighten on the silk hem but he pauses, pulling back just enough to look down at Jaemin's flushed face. "Is this okay?" Jeno asks, voice low and steady, meeting Jaemin's eyes directly. "Tell me if you want to stop or slow down."

Jaemin's breath hitches loud in the quietness of the room, his voice shaky, nervous. "Y-yes, it's okay, it's just I… I've never done this with an alpha before." His cheeks flush a darker shade of pink, hands gripping Jeno's shoulders tighter as he admits to the rumors. "You're the first."

Something primal in Jeno's alpha roars with satisfaction at the confession, eager to be the one claiming this beautiful omega for the first time. Jeno himself feels a sharp thrill at the idea of giving Jaemin an experience he's never had, his own cock throbbing harder at the thought. He smiles with quiet confidence, trusting all his experience will come to use now. “I'll make it worth it then."

He leans in to kiss Jaemin again, deeper this time, while his hands slide under the silk shirt without removing it yet. His fingers trace the lean chest, thumbs brushing over nipples until Jaemin arches up with another loud gasp. Jeno's hips grind down again, enjoying how his nose can catch the way Jaemin's scent grows stronger.

Wetter.

He finally tugs the shirt upward, breaking their kiss only to pull it over Jaemin's head and toss it aside, revealing the pale skin under the warm light of his lamp, a lean chest that is rising and falling already fast. He dips his head, mouth latching onto one nipple while his palm slides lower to cup the front of Jaemin's pants. The outline of a small cock presses against his hand, already hard, and below it he finds the warm swell of Jaemin's pussy through the fabric. He rubs slow circles there, feeling how slick starts to soak through.

Jaemin moans openly, vocal and needy, his body responding with small jerks. "Oh god, Jeno, that feels... keep going." Jeno switches to the other nipple, sucking harder as he works at undoing the belt, popping open the buttons and lowering the zipper. The tight pants and underwear come down in one smooth tug, cool air brushing the bare skin before Jeno's fingers return to where they had been teasing. 

He parts the slick folds to stroke the entrance, then circles the clit with his thumb before pushing one finger inside the tight wet heat. Jeno rocks his hips, denim straining over his cock as he grinds the full length against Jaemin's bare thigh. He adds a second finger, pumping slowly while his mouth trails kisses up to the omega's throat, feeling how Jaemin’s insides squeeze his digits greedily. Every loud gasp and moan from the omega feeds the burn in his chest. He curls his fingers, searching for that spot that makes Jaemin's hips jerk hard, and keeps the steady pressure building.

Jeno watches Jaemin's body arch under his touch, fingers buried deep and curling with purpose. Slick coats his hand, warm, and the wet sounds mix with Jaemin's breathy moans. "You are taking my fingers so well," Jeno whispers the low praise, noticing how Jaemin’s moan pitches higher in response. "Does this feel good?"

Jaemin nods, hips twitching. "Yes… more, please."

“You ask so nicely, what a good boy.” His suspicion is confirmed as Jaemin’s pussy clenches around his fingers, more slick oozing out. Jeno adds a gentle twist, pressing firmer until Jaemin's thighs shake. He keeps the rhythm slow and deliberate, studying every reaction he earns. The omega's small cock, though bigger than most male omegas Jeno has been with, rests hard against his stomach, a bead of precum sliding down its length. Jeno eases his fingers free, and shifts lower between the spread open legs.

His hand wraps around the small cock first, stroking it in long, firm pulls from base to tip. "Look how eager you are," Jeno murmurs before he leans down and closes his lips around the head, sucking gently while his tongue laps at the slit. Jaemin gasps and bucks upwards, Jeno takes more of it into his mouth, sucking and moaning around it, the precum light but with a sweetness to it.

After several slow drags of his mouth, Jeno releases the cock with a soft wet pop and trails his tongue lower. He licks broad and wet over the slick folds of Jaemin's cunt, savoring the burst of peach sweetness cut with that sharp mint. His hand never stops moving, stroking the small cock in time with each lick. "You taste so fucking good," Jeno mumbles against the skin, his words vibrating through Jaemin's core.

Jaemin whines, hips rolling in search of more. Jeno seals his mouth over the swollen clit and sucks, tongue flicking in quick circles while his fist keeps jerking over the small cock. Slick drips down his chin as he thrusts his tongue inside the tight entrance, then pulls back to lap at everything. "Grind on my face," Jeno encourages, voice muffled but clear. "Show me what you need."

The instruction draws a soft purr from Jaemin, his movements growing bolder, rolling down his hips so Jeno's nose rubs firmly over his clit with every pass. Jeno moans into the wet heat, the vibration making Jaemin shiver. He keeps stroking the cock in smooth, twisting motions, thumb circling the head on each upstroke, while his mouth focuses entirely on the pussy presented to him, sucking, licking, and thrusting his tongue in until Jaemin's sounds turn broken and desperate.

"You’re such a good omega,” Jeno praises between long licks, Jaemin letting out a loud whine while he purrs so sweetly. "Just like that, keep using my mouth." Jaemin's body melts further, the submission clear in the way his hips stutter then resume their eager circles. Jeno's free hand grips one asscheek, guiding the motion without forcing it, letting Jaemin chase the friction against his nose and tongue.

Jaemin's thighs tremble against the bed and Jeno glances up briefly, catching the glassy look in Jaemin's eyes and the way his lips part on another moan. "You are so perfect like this," Jeno tells him, then dives back in, nose pressing hard as Jaemin grinds up again. The dual sensation of a hand on his cock and a mouth on his pussy builds steadily, Jeno matching every roll with eager licks and strokes that keep Jaemin vocal and pliant under his touch.

Jeno feels Jaemin's small cock twitch harder in his fist, the omega's hips jerking with each firm stroke while his tongue works deeper into the slick heat of Jaemin's pussy. The taste of peach and mint floods his mouth, richer now as slick flows even more freely. Jaemin's moans grow louder, filling the room with every lap and suck.

"Jeno, fuck, your tongue feels so good," Jaemin gasps, voice breaking on a whine. "I'm close, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."

Jeno leans back just enough to meet Jaemin's eyes, one eyebrow raised, amused. "And why shouldn't you?" he dives back in with renewed focus, sucking hard on the swollen clit before thrusting his tongue inside the clenching entrance, letting go of Jaemin’s ass to slide two fingers inside Jaemin, curling them, thrusting his tongue between them. His hand never slows on Jaemin's cock, twisting on each upstroke and thumbing over the head to spread the precum.

Jaemin's thighs clamp around Jeno's head, squeezing on him, unfortunately muffling the sweet sounds he makes but he will take the sacrifice by how nice it feels to have the omega’s thighs pressing against him like this, so desperately, his body shaking as the sounds spill out unchecked. "Oh god, right there, please don't stop, it feels too good," he babbles, grinding down harder against Jeno's mouth. Jeno growls into the wet folds, the vibration pulling another sharp cry from Jaemin. He keeps the rhythm relentless, fucking him with three fingers now and keeping his mouth on his clit while his fist pumps steadily, until Jaemin's back arches off the bed and his pussy pulses around Jeno's fingers. Cum spills over Jeno's hand in hot thin and short spurts, Jaemin's moans turning ragged and desperate as the orgasm crashes over him.

He waits through the aftershocks, helping the omega ride them out and his tongue joining, licking softly over the throbbing wet core until Jaemin's breathing evens out. Jeno straightens on his knees, gaze fixed on the omega's flushed face and dazed eyes. With a slow, deliberate motion, he drags the back of his hand across his chin, wiping away the mix of slick and spit in one sweep.

Reaching up, Jeno carefully unclasps the silver chains from Jaemin's neck, climbing off the bed and setting them aside on the nightstand with a soft clink. He strips off his shirt first, then takes off his belt and shoves his jeans and briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy, the knot already beginning to swell at the base. 

Jaemin's eyes widened, his gaze locked on his length. He draws his still-trembling thighs together, pressing them closed as a fresh wave of nervousness colors his scent. "How… how is that supposed to fit inside me?" he mumbles, voice soft but edged with desire. The lust in his eyes and the way his scent spikes sweet and inviting betray every bit of the hesitation, his body already shifting restlessly on the sheets despite his question.

Jeno watches the way Jaemin's eyes stay fixed on his cock, the omega's thighs pressing together even as his scent blooms richer with pure want. The sight stirs something deep in Jeno's chest, a mix of pride and careful restraint. He leans in slightly, voice deep and soothing. "Jaemin, if you want to stop, we can. Really, just say the word."

Jaemin hesitates for only a second, his breath catching, before he shakes his head and parts his thighs again, the movement slow but sure. His voice comes out softer than before. "No. Don't stop… The condoms are in the bedside table drawer."

Jeno nods once, the confirmation settling between them as he pulls the drawer open. The foil packet crinkles under his fingers as he grabs one and he climbs back onto the nest, between Jaemin’s spread open legs he tears it open with his teeth, rolls the condom down over his length, and gives himself a few firm tugs to settle the fit. 

One hand braces on the mattress beside Jaemin's hip while the other guides his cock forward. Jeno grinds the head slowly through the omega's soaked folds, dragging through the mix of slick and spit to coat himself. The wet heat clings to him, and Jaemin's body trembles visibly beneath him, small shivers running down his thighs. Jeno feels the way Jaemin's pussy flutters against him, the slick making each slow pass glide easier, the head catching just at the entrance on every pass without pushing in yet.

Jaemin's moans start up again, breathy and unrestrained. "Jeno... fuck, don’t tease..." His hips twitch upward, chasing the friction even as his hands fist into the sheets. The nervousness lingers in the slight shake of his voice, but it mixes with raw excitement that thickens the peach and mint scent in the air. Jeno keeps the motion steady, letting the head nudge and slide over Jaemin's swollen clit before dragging back down, coating every ridge until his cock glistens with the omega's slick. Jaemin's small cock twitches against his stomach again, leaking fresh beads of precum that catch the light, and Jeno's gaze tracks every reaction, every tremble, every sound spilling from the omega's lips.

Jeno senses the shift in Jaemin's scent, that peach and mint spiking sharper with anticipation as the head of his cock catches at the omega's entrance again and again. He remembers this is new for Jaemin, the first time an alpha has him like this, and the thought pushes him to make every moment count. Without warning, Jeno grips Jaemin under the thighs and lifts him. Jaemin's lean frame rises easily in his hold, broad shoulders and slim waist settling against Jeno's chest as the omega's legs wrap around his hips and his arms around his shoulders. Jeno stays on his knees, sitting on his heels, Jaemin's eyes fly wide open, a startled gasp slipping out as his body rises effortlessly. Jeno holds him suspended just above the thick head of his cock.

He lowers Jaemin with deliberate slowness, letting the broad tip nudge against the soaked entrance. Jaemin's pussy flutters at the contact, still pulsing from his recent orgasm, yet the tight ring resists even as fresh slick pours out in to ease the penetration.

The stretch begins immediately. Jeno guides him down just barely, then pauses, feeling the way Jaemin's walls clench and fight to accommodate his girth. Jaemin trembles hard in his arms, his lean torso arching forward as his breath hitches into a broken whine. "Fuck, Jeno... it's so big, I can feel it splitting me open," he blabbers, voice shaky and rushed. His small cock jerks untouched against his stomach, leaking steadily, but the real focus stays on the overwhelming fullness starting to push inside. Jeno lowers him another fraction, his veined shaft sinking in deeper, and Jaemin's body shakes with the effort, hips jerking involuntarily while his fingers dig into Jeno's shoulders. "Oh god, please, keep going" Jaemin continues, words tumbling out between gasps as his pussy struggles to open further around the intrusion.

Jeno keeps the descent gradual, centimeter by careful centimeter, savoring every flutter and clench. Jaemin feels impossibly tight despite the slick coating everything, his inner walls gripping like a vice. More wetness floods out, dripping down Jeno's shaft and balls, but the resistance remains fierce. Jaemin's thighs quiver against Jeno's sides, his whole frame shuddering as if the stretch borders on too much, yet his scent spikes sweeter with raw need.

Jaemin's head lolls forward, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, soft moans spilling free with every tiny movement downward. "It's too much... but don't pull out, please, I want all of it," he mumbles on, blabbering through the haze.

Another slow drop brings Jaemin lower still and Jaemin whines louder, body jerking in Jeno's firm hold, he pushes down weakly on instinct, chasing more even as tremors rack his slim frame. "Jeno.. it's filling me up so deep, my pussy's never taken anything this huge," Jaemin rambles, voice breathy and desperate, fingers clutching tighter. Jeno refuses to rush and risk hurting the omega.

Jeno feels the heat and pressure mount as he guides Jaemin down the final bit. The omega's pussy clamps around him with fierce resistance, inner walls pulsing and squeezing so tightly that every vein along his shaft throbs in response. Slick oozes out, yet the grip stays impossibly snug. His knot, already beginning to swell at the base, catches for a heartbeat against the stretched rim before slipping inside, it is not yet big enough to lock them together, but the partial swell drags and tugs just enough to draw a low groan from his chest.

Jaemin trembles almost violently in his hold, his body shuddering as he breathes in short, ragged gasps. Soft moans spill free with each tiny shift, mixing with broken fragments of words that tumble out in a rush. Jeno watches the way those eyes glaze and lips part, the omega's body fighting to adjust around the thick intrusion while his small cock jerks untouched against his stomach.

Without glancing down, one of Jaemin's shaking hands slides between their bodies. A long, high moan breaks from him and Jeno looks down, a growl rumbling in his chest as he watches those pretty fingers stroking the firm outline pushing outward from Jaemin's lower belly. The sight sends fresh heat surging through him. Jaemin's fingers trace and stroke over it with a frantic need, pressing lightly in wonder.

Jeno begins to thrust upward in earnest, his hands gripping Jaemin's hips with firm control as he drives the omega down onto his cock in measured strokes that quickly gain momentum. Each movement sends the thick length sliding through those tight, throbbing walls, slick coating every centimeter and creating a sinful wet rhythm that fills the room. Jaemin's responses spill out immediately, a cascade of broken sounds that carry no clear words, only raw need expressed through high-pitched whines and gasping moans that hitch with every deep plunge. "Ah… alpha... please…" 

The pace builds steadily, Jeno's hips snapping harder now as he lifts and drops Jaemin faster, the knot at his base swelling further with each pass and tugging insistently at the stretched rim. Jaemin's voice grows louder, turning into sobbing moans that shake through his frame, tears beginning to gather at the corners of his pretty doe eyes, so glazed over, his pupils blown wide, dark and unfocused, while his trembling hand stays pressed to the firm bulge on his lower belly, fingers stroking and rubbing in frantic circles that match the rhythm of Jeno’s thrusts, his other arm hangs limp around Jeno's shoulders, his fingers twitching uselessly in the air as if he has no strength left to do anything but feel.

Jeno watches the omega's face intently, the way those dazed eyes flutter and lips part around incoherent pleas that slip out between sobs. "More.. too much… alpha…" The words fracture into fresh whines as Jeno increases his speed, fucking up into him with increasing force, thighs flexing to bounce Jaemin on his cock without pause. Slick pours out in heavier waves, dripping down to soak Jeno's knot and thighs, the wet sounds growing obscene with every rapid descent. Jaemin's body trembles in his hold, his scent flooding outward in thick waves of peach and crushed mint that drown Jeno's senses completely, wrapping around and pulling a low growl from his chest, his alpha salivating and excited.

Jeno's own scent spikes in response, heavy cedarwood and burnt sugar mixing in the space as he leans into the overwhelming combination, his alpha instincts roaring with satisfaction at the way Jaemin clings to him and shakes with pleasure. He fucks faster still, the motion turning relentless, each thrust forcing the bulge under Jaemin's stroking fingers to shift visibly while the omega's moans and sobs, tears now slipping freely down his flushed cheeks.

Without slowing, Jeno shifts their weight and lowers them both smoothly onto the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside as he reaches for a nearby pillow. He slides it beneath Jaemin's hips, tilting the omega's pelvis upward for better access before folding those long legs back toward his chest. The new position bends Jaemin nearly in half, exposing everything for Jeno's gaze. From here the view is perfect, the puffy, glistening lips of Jaemin's pussy stretch wide around his thick shaft, slick and swollen as they cling and pull with every withdrawal and thrust. Jeno watches closely, hips snapping forward to drive in deep, the wet folds parting obscenely around him time after time, shiny with arousal and gripping tight on each inward stroke.

Jaemin's hand never leaves his abdomen, feeling the way his belly bulges, continuing to trace and pet the outline with desperate fingers even as fresh tears track down his face. His other hand lays useless beside his head, fingers curling faintly into the air while sobbing moans continue to pour from him in a constant stream. The sounds mix with soft whines and broken pleas that make little sense, just raw vocalizations of pleasure and need. 

The omega's scent grows even stronger in this position, drowning Jeno completely as he breathes it in with every thrust, his own replying in thick, possessive waves that mingle and intensify the air around them. Jaemin's dazed eyes stay fixed upward, pupils blown wide and glistening with tears, his body rocking with the force of how Jeno fucks him, and then he leans down without thinking, mouth finding the curve of Jaemin's neck to mouth instinctively at the sensitive scent gland there. The omega responds at once with a deep, rumbling purr, head tilting to offer his throat in clear invitation, the sound vibrating through both of them.

Jeno's teeth graze lightly over the gland in the heat of the moment, just enough pressure to spark through Jaemin's system. The reaction hits instantly. Jaemin cums with a loud, sobbing cry of ‘Alpha’, his pussy clamping down in tight, rippling spasms that finally force the swollen knot to slip fully inside and lock them together. The sudden clench drags Jeno over the edge right after, his release flooding deep in heavy pulses caught by the latex, while his gums ache with the desperate urge to bite down and mark, truly claim. His alpha strains hard for it, teeth pressing firm against skin without ever breaking through, every instinct screaming to bite yet held back by sheer self control as he rides out his orgasm buried to the hilt.

Jaemin shakes through the aftershocks, hand still petting the bulge weakly as the knot keeps them joined, tears continuing to slip down his face while his blank eyes remain on Jeno's. Their scents hang heavy in the room, peach and mint blending with cedarwood in a thick, satisfied haze as the knot pulses and holds.

Jeno stays still for several long moments, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, his knot remains tight inside Jaemin's clenching heat. The omega's body is pliant and warm pressed against his. Jeno's breathing evens out first and he lifts his head enough to study Jaemin's face, searching for any sign of discomfort or distress.

Jaemin does not speak when Jeno whispers his name, his eyes half-lidded and dazed still, eyelashes clumped together from the tears, and a low, steady purr vibrates through his chest. Every small shift of Jeno's hips draws a soft, breathy moan from the omega's throat. Jaemin presses closer, his still shaky arms reaching around Jeno's shoulders, face tucking into the curve of his neck as if seeking more of the alpha’s scent. The sight tugs at something warm and protective inside Jeno's chest as he feels endeared despite himself, the raw trust in Jaemin's clinging body making his alpha feel possessive and smug, a feeling of ‘conquest’ Jeno feels bad for having at all.

This was no conquest, the reason they ended up here at all was the raw heartache from watching the people they wanted most choose each other instead. Jeno swallows against the sudden tightness in his throat and forces his thoughts away from Mark and Donghyuck. Right now there is only this. 

Jaemin's soft purrs, the way the omega's soft body fits against him, the faint tremble that runs through his body whenever Jeno's knot throbs.

Minutes pass, between twenty to thirty he would assume, his knot gradually softening as Jaemin's purrs grow quieter, his breathing deepening into the even pattern of sleep. His grip loosens but he does not let go entirely, one hand having found its place back between their bodies, resting over the faint swell low on his belly. Jeno waits until the knot deflates completely before easing out, carefully and slowly. 

Jaemin makes one tiny, sleepy sound but does not wake up. Jeno takes off the condom, ties it up and gets off the bed, he doesn’t bother with putting back on his boxers, walking naked through the dark apartment. The second bedroom door is closed across the short hallway, the bathroom door just beyond it. He throws into the bin the rubber and then finds a clean pink face towel and runs warm water over it until the fabric is damp, then moves to the kitchen for a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter.

Back in the bedroom he places the glass of water on the bedside table and then sits by the sleeping omega and gently cleans the mess, first the sweat over his body and then wiping between his thighs with slow, careful strokes. Jaemin only stirs, purring again, content being looked after. 

Jeno stands up and wipes himself clean too, finds his boxers, pulls them back on before he climbs back into the bed and draws the omega against his chest. Jaemin fits there, so naturally, head tucked under Jeno's chin, one leg sliding between his. The purring starts up again, faint and sweet. Jeno strokes slow circles over Jaemin's back, barely noticing how something rumbles in his chest too, a deep low croon of his own as sleep drags him under.

Jaemin blinks his eyes open, his eyelids feeling heavy and stiff from last night’s smudged makeup, the shots of alcohol having their blame too, especially when a sharp, dry ache throbs behind his forehead, but his brain doesn't even care too much about the obvious hangover.

Instead, it immediately floods him with a sudden montage of sharp, flashing memories that have his entire body freezing beneath the sheets.

The club, the suffocating colorful strobe lights. Donghyuck wrapped completely around Mark on the dance floor, making out with a desperate hunger that turned Jaemin’s entire world upside down. Then the sudden eye contact across the crowded room with Jeno. The shared heartbreak, sitting side by side at the bar, knocking back double shots of vodka and letting their deepest, most guarded secrets spill out over the counter to a basically stranger.

Jaemin swallows hard, his throat dry as the memories shift into something much hotter, and much more terrifying. He remembers the sudden snap of the sexual tension between them which formed so suddenly. He remembers pulling Jeno by his leather jacket, the walk back to his apartment, and dragging the alpha straight into his room.

And then, the sex. 

It had been completely mind-blowing.

His carefully guarded omega had taken the upfront so completely that his memories dissolved into a hazy, overwhelming blur of him just being a moaning, sobbing mess underneath Jeno’s strong frame, utterly surrendered to the alpha's touch.

Jaemin shifts his head, his skin sliding against the soft cotton of his favorite blanket. He’s completely naked, but he feels clean, which means Jeno had taken the time to clean him up afterward, and given Jaemin didn’t wake up for it, means he was gentle and careful despite the raw intensity of how he had fucked him. Jaemin's eyes flicker to his bedside table, landing on a full glass of water sitting right next to his cute cinnamoroll lamp.

Jeno must have slipped out of bed to pour it for him before climbing right back into the center of the mattress.

Right now, that exact alpha is asleep right next to him, and from what Jaemin’s very naked body can feel, underneath the blanket he is wearing nothing but his boxers. One of Jeno’s muscled arms is wrapped securely around Jaemin’s waist, his broad chest pressed flush against Jaemin’s back, trapping him in a tight, protective hold.

Jaemin stays completely still, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes something even more jarring.

His omega is content. In fact, it's curiously, deeply satisfied with the massive invasion of his space. The nest is heavily saturated with the thick, dominant scent of cedarwood and burnt sugar, but instead of triggering the expected raw rejection, the heavy alpha pheromones make Jaemin want to burrow deeper into the mattress.

It makes absolutely no sense to his sober brain. Jeno is an alpha. Jaemin doesn’t care for alphas. He’s spent his entire university life coldly and firmly turning them away, building a neat blueprint for a safe, predictable future that entirely excluded them. He’s had sex with betas, slept with omegas, but Jeno is the first and only alpha he has ever kissed, the only alpha he has ever let touch him like this.

More than that, Jeno is the only alpha who has ever been allowed into his nest. Even Jisung, his precious childhood friend whom he loves to pieces and 'forgives' for being born an alpha, has a strict boundary line at the bedroom door. No alpha enters his nest, it’s Jaemin’s ultimate sanctuary.

Yet, Jeno is currently snoring softly against the nape of Jaemin's neck, his fingers idly twitching against Jaemin’s hip as he sleeps. Jaemin stares at the glass of water on the nightstand, his mind entirely unable to balance the equation of what he’s supposed to do next. 

So much for the course he paid on project modeling. 

He should be horrified, should be scrambling out of the sheets to reclaim his space before Donghyuck wakes up across the hall.

But as the heavy, comforting warmth of Jeno’s strong arms tightens slightly around him in his sleep, pulling him closer into the cedarwood scented heat, Jaemin finds himself staying exactly where he is.

The soft, low vibration in his own chest is what finally snaps him out of his spiral. It takes Jaemin a long moment to realize the low, rumbling noise isn't coming from the apartment's pipes but from him. 

He is purring.

Before he can even attempt to stop it, Jeno shifts behind him.

The alpha reacts completely subconsciously, his body responding to the pure comfort of an omega's purr. Jeno lets out a low, gravelly grunt in his sleep, his broad chest pressing firmer against Jaemin’s bare back as he burrows closer, nuzzling his warm nose against the sensitive skin of Jaemin’s nape, a lower, deeper croon vibrating from his chest against Jaemin’s back.

Jaemin is utterly mortified, so embarrassed. He isn’t angry, nor really uncomfortable, at all really. His omega just wants to melt right back into the hold, completely content to let the alpha’s scent drown out the rest of the world.

Exhausted by the emotional whiplash and the lingering weight of the vodka, Jaemin lets his heavy eyelids close again. He lets himself drop right back into a dark, dreamless sleep.

When he blinks his eyes open for the second time that day, the dawn light slipping past his curtains has shifted into a bright, midday glare.

The heavy weight against his back suddenly pulls away, that is what woke him up, Jeno waking up, his arm sliding back across Jaemin’s hip as he groans, rubbing a hand over his face before sitting up against the headboard. The blanket slips down to his hips, exposing the broad shoulders, the expanse of a very nicely toned torso, and the dark fabric of his boxers.

Jaemin doesn't bother sitting up, just rolls to his back to look up at the alpha. The silence in the room is quite honestly, awkward. They are in the wreckage of a shared heartbreak and a completely wild night. Jeno clears his throat, his fingers idly tugging at the edge of the blanket before he finally turns his head to look back at Jaemin. His dark eyes are a little bloodshot, his hair messy and sticking up in all directions before the alpha brushes his fingers over it until he kind of tames it.

"Hey," Jeno mumbles, his voice deep and raspy from sleep. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes tracking the way Jaemin is pulling his blanket up to his chin. "How, uh, how do you feel? Are you sore?"

Jaemin opens his mouth, his tongue preparing a sharp, deadpan remark to tell the alpha to not flatter himself. He wants to bite back with his usual cold, untouchable attitude.

But the words completely die in his throat. Because the brutal, honest truth is, he is. He’s incredibly sore.

Jaemin has never been taken apart like that in his entire life. Jeno was, without a doubt, the most heavily endowed lover Jaemin had ever had, and easily the strongest too. The alpha had completely manhandled him in the absolute best way possible, using the strength and size he has on him to pin Jaemin down, dominating until Jaemin was nothing but a breathless, weeping mess beneath him. His thighs ache, his lower back too, and the physical evidence of Jeno's strength is practically written into his skin, he knows it without having to look for the alpha’s handprints on his hips and waist.

Instead of a witty retort, Jaemin can only manage a small, helpless nod. He feels his blood rush up to his face, no doubt coloring his cheeks pink.

He tries to keep his expression blank, but his instincts completely betray him. His scent flares, releasing sharp sparks of lingering lust from remembering how his body came to this situation, mixed with an absolute, burning embarrassment.

Jeno blinks, noticing the sudden, sweet rush of peach and mint, and then a slow, completely unexpected expression breaks across his face.

He smiles.

Jaemin freezes, his heart skipping a beat as he watches it. He has never seen Jeno smile like this before. It isn't the polite, quiet one the alpha wears during group dinners whenever Jaemin looks, his eyes completely disappear into two perfect, adorable crescents, a soft, boyish eye-smile that makes his jaw and broad strong shoulders look entirely non-threatening. It is ridiculously cute, an expression that looks completely out of place on an alpha who spent the night rearranging Jaemin’s guts.

"I can grab you some medicine," Jeno offers, voice soft as he gestures toward the bedroom door. "If you have any in the kitchen? Just tell me where it is."

Jaemin swallows, his eyes lingering on that soft, crescent-eyed smile for a second too long before he forces himself to look away to the ceiling.

"The cabinet above the sink," Jaemin mutters, his voice flat but raspy with sleep. "There is a small white basket on the second shelf."

Jeno nods, the cute eye-smile lingering on his face for a second before he swings his long legs out of the bed. The mattress lifts as his weight shifts, the muscles in his broad back flexing as he stands completely unbothered by the chill of the morning air just in his boxers.

"Do you want anything else while I'm out there?" Jeno asks, turning back around by the bedroom door, his voice still carrying that deep, sleepy rasp.

Jaemin feels the blush go up to his ears now, the heat radiating off his face as he clutches the blanket higher against his collarbone. "There's a green smoothie in the fridge," he says, his eyes darting anywhere but Jeno’s bare chest. "It’s already bottled. In a pink tumbler."

"Got it. Green smoothie, pink tumbler," Jeno repeats, nodding to himself before he steps out into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

The moment the alpha's footsteps fade down the corridor, Jaemin lets out a long, shaky breath. The room still smells intensely of cedarwood and burnt sugar, a thick, protective thing that makes his skin prickle with a strange warmth as his omega rejoices.

He needs to get dressed. He refuses to be found sitting helplessly in his nest like a textbook omega when the alpha returns.

Bracing his hands against the mattress, Jaemin tries to slide his legs out from beneath the blanket to reach his briefs, which are discarded on the floor. But the moment his thighs move, a sharp ache shoots straight up his lower back and into his core. His muscles completely tense up, a breathless gasp escaping his lips as he collapses back into the pillows.

He is entirely useless. Jeno had completely undone him, left Jaemin's body too thoroughly wrecked for him to move without the help of pain relievers.

Frustrated and burning with raw embarrassment, Jaemin gives up. He at the very least, forces his body to handle sitting up, using his countless pillows and soft blankets to cushion him, pulling one up to his chest, tucking the edges firmly around his shoulders to hide his nudity.

The door pushes open with a soft creak, and Jeno steps back into the room, the box of ibuprofen in one hand and the bright pink tumbler in the other. He pauses by the edge of the mattress, his dark eyes instantly tracking the way Jaemin has burrowed even deeper into the blankets, he doesn't say a word about it, but his eye-smile brightens just a bit.

Jaemin reaches out from beneath the safety of the blanket, his fingers brushing against Jeno’s as he takes the medicine and the pink tumbler, the straw already uncapped. Jeno doesn't try to climb back into the center of the nest, instead, he shifts his weight and sits down carefully on the edge of the mattress by Jaemin’s feet. It keeps a respectable distance between them. "Donghyuck isn't back in the apartment yet," Jeno whispers, staring down at his own hands. "The living room was completely dark when I went out there."

Jaemin freezes for a second, the pink plastic straw resting against his lips. He doesn't reply, and Jeno doesn't elaborate, but the unspoken truth hangs heavily in the air between them. They don't need to say it out loud, both of them can easily guess exactly where Donghyuck has spent the night.

He swallows the lump in his throat, his thumb tracing up and down the side of his tumbler. He looks at Jeno’s broad, quiet silhouette at the foot of his bed. The alpha looks just as lost as he feels, the dark, wanton energy from the night before entirely gone, leaving only the raw vulnerability of a guy who just got his heart broken by his best friend.

Jaemin forces his voice through the tightness in his chest.

"Look," Jaemin mutters, his eyes fixed on the blankets over his knees. "I.. I hope things don't get weird between us because of last night. I don't want it to be awkward when the group hangs out." He pauses, clearing his throat as his voice drops into a quiet, raspy mumble. "Because I did enjoy it. A lot. And, I mean…you're literally the only alpha I've ever slept with, so… yeah." Jeno turns his head, his dark eyes wide. "But anyways," Jaemin rushes on, his fingers tightening on the tumbler as he tries to salvage his pride. "The point is- you're the only person who actually knows how I feel about Donghyuck. You know, about the one-sided stuff."

Jeno lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders dropping as a soft, understanding look crosses his face. "Yeah. And you're the only one who knows I've been pining for Mark this whole time."

Jaemin looks up through his messy hair, his eyes searching Jeno’s face. The boundary lines he had spent his entire life drawing against alphas feel completely melted down by a single night of shared grief and raw pleasure numbing everything else.

"So… can we, well… be friends?" Jaemin asks, the word feeling strange but surprisingly nice on his tongue. "Like, for real?"

Jeno looks at him for a long moment, the awkwardness of the ‘morning after’ finally breaking as that adorable, crescent-eyed smile returns to his face, bright and genuine.

"Yeah, Jaemin," Jeno says, soft, nodding as he shifts his weight on the edge of the mattress. "We can definitely be friends."

Jaemin lets out a quiet breath, leaning his head back against his pillows. The ache beneath his ribs is still there, and the bedroom across the hall is still empty, but as he looks at the alpha sitting at the foot of his nest, he thinks the wreckage might be a little easier to handle together with him.

It's late afternoon by the time the front door electronic lock finally chimes down the hall.

Jeno had left hours ago. After they’d exchanged numbers, Jaemin had given in to his aching muscles and ordered some delivery food, and Jeno had insisted on staying until it arrived. He’d gone out to the lobby to grab the bags so Jaemin wouldn't have to move, bringing the food straight back into the room. Jaemin had already ordered more than he could eat by himself, so they’d eaten right there on the edge of the mattress, talking about mundane university nonsense, and somewhere between the lukewarm noodles and the easy talk, he had internally confirmed something.

They actually hit it off as friends.

But now, the front door clicks shut, and the easy comfort of the afternoon evaporates.

"Jaeminie!" Donghyuck’s voice calls out, a loud, sing-song drawl that carries a bright, high-energy tilt. Jaemin is sitting in their living area, a textbook resting open on his lap to serve as a prop. He’s already showered, his skin scrubbed raw, and he’s dressed in a clean, oversized white hoodie and sweatpants. He forces his jaw to unlock, pulling his features into a smooth, perfectly practiced mask of indifference as Donghyuck walks into the living space.

Donghyuck looks entirely glowing. His hair is a bit messy, his skin flushed, and he brings a massive, overwhelming cloud of his own burnt honey scent and blood orange into the room, but beneath it, clinging heavily to the fabric of his jacket, is the unmistakable, grounding trail of Mark’s warm vanilla.

And, ah, how it hurts. It's a sickening, suffocating jealousy that almost makes it hard to breathe. He keeps his eyes fixed on his textbook, his thumb tightening against the page until the paper creases.

"Look who finally decided to grace the apartment with his presence," Jaemin drawls, his tone sharp.

"Oh, shut up, you have absolutely zero room to talk," Donghyuck fires back immediately. A wicked smirk breaks across his face as he walks over, leaning against the back of the couch with a glittering perceptive glint in his eyes. "Jungwoo and Jisung texted me last night, they both saw you guys leave the club, well I’m pretty sure Chenle did too if Jisung did."

Jaemin doesn't look up. "They're both dramatic."

"They aren't dramatic, they have eyes! Everyone already knows you two fucked," Donghyuck squeals, leaning down closer into Jaemin’s space, his voice full of absolute glee. "The alpha-hating Na Jaemin got snatched by Lee Jeno! And don't even try to deny it. You smell intensely like him, Nana.”

They had scented each other heavily in their sleep, a thick, stubborn trail of cedarwood and burnt sugar clinging to Jaemin’s neck that a shower hadn't been able to wash away. The blatant exposure makes a hot, flush of blood climb up to Jaemin's cheeks.

But beneath the embarrassment, the agonizing weight of last night, the sight of Donghyuck making out with Mark on that dance floor, finally pushes Jaemin over the edge. The defensive walls he’s been holding up all day crack, a raw, bitter irritation spiking through his scent.

He slams the textbook shut on his lap, the sharp bang cutting through Donghyuck’s laughter.

"Yeah, well, at least I don’t keep secrets from my best friend," Jaemin snaps back, his voice dropping into a harsh, raspy thing as he glares up at Donghyuck. His chest heaves beneath his hoodie, his eyes dark with an intensity that is far too heavy for a simple friendly bicker. "You didn't tell me anything, Hyuck. Not a single word about liking Mark, I had to find out by watching you eat his face in the middle of a club floor."

The words are laced with the genuine, bleeding heartbreak of his own unrequited love, a desperate lashing out because the notes of Mark's scent on Donghyuck are actively tearing him apart.

Donghyuck freezes, completely caught off guard by the sudden outburst. His smug, teasing expression breaks, his eyes widen, and a pretty shade of red colors his cheeks and ears, his fingers flying up to idly tug at the collar of his jacket as he looks down, completely flustered.

"I-it wasn't… we didn't..." Donghyuck stammers, his voice dropping into a soft, breathless mumble as his burnt honey scent turns incredibly sweet and shy. He hides his face slightly behind his sleeve, looking so cute and vulnerable. "It just happened so fast, Jaem. I didn't mean to keep it from you, I swear. I was just… I was nervous."

Seeing him like that, so visibly soft, so endearingly flustered over another man, makes a cold, heavy thing sink in Jaemin’s stomach. It is an expression Donghyuck has never directed at him, a level of romantic vulnerability that completely confirms every shattered illusion from last night. Jaemin can barely hide the devastating ache in his expression, his jaw locking so tight it hurts.

Donghyuck looks back up, his eyes wide and apologetic as he takes in the rigid line of Jaemin's shoulders. He completely misreads the source of the agony.

"Are you really that mad at me?" Donghyuck asks softly, stepping around the couch to sit on the spot next to him, completely oblivious to the romantic affections tearing Jaemin apart. He wraps his arms around Jaemin's shoulders, hugging him tight. "I'm sorry, Jaem. I promise I'm not replacing you. You're still my best friend, okay? I should have told you I was falling for him."

Jaemin sits entirely frozen in the embrace, his nose buried against Donghyuck's shoulder where the warm vanilla and burnt honey are perfectly blended. It is a slow, agonizing torture. He lets out a quiet, shaky breath, forcing his hands to lift and pat Donghyuck's back, leaning into the excuse his best friend just handed him on a silver platter.

"Just.. don't do it again," Jaemin whispers, his voice flat and dead as he locks his secrets away behind his teeth, letting Donghyuck believe it’s just friendly jealousy.

Donghyuck relaxes at the compliance, letting out a soft, relieved sigh as he pulls back from the hug. He doesn't move off the couch, though. Instead, he tucks his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs as his face lights up with that bright, unfiltered energy that Jaemin has spent years adoring.

"I'm serious, Jaem, I felt so bad the second I woke up," Donghyuck says, his voice dropping into that familiar, animated tilt as he prepares to lay his entire heart out on the coffee table. "It’s just… these past two weeks have been completely insane. I didn't even realize how fast I was falling until we were sitting on the floor of his studio last Tuesday, and he was just… he's such a dork, Jaemin. You have no idea."

Jaemin forces his face to remain perfectly still. He tilts his head in a practiced show of casual listening, while inside his chest, a slow, agonizing wreck is taking place.

"He was trying to explain this thing of his masters to me, right? And he got so excited his ears turned bright red, and he started doing that loud laugh with his hands wildly gesturing everywhere," Donghyuck continues, a soft, incredibly tender smile breaking across his face. His burnt honey scent flares warm and intensely sweet, completely filling the small space between them. "He’s just so cute. But then he stands up, or he fixes his hair, and he's suddenly so incredibly handsome it makes my throat go completely dry."

Stop, please just stop.

"And he's so well-mannered, Jaem," Donghyuck gushes, his eyes staring off into space as if he’s replaying the entire night in his mind. "Like, yeah, okay, the club we got a little heated. The music dropped, and he looked at me, and I just couldn't help myself- again, sorry you had to witness that as a surprise- and then I went back to his place."

Jaemin’s breath hitches softly in his throat, his lungs tightening as he prepares for the final, visceral blow. He prepares himself to hear the logistics of the reality of his best friend completely belonging to someone else.

"But we didn't even fuck yet!" Donghyuck suddenly blurts out, waving a hand dismissively as his blush deepens. He lets out a soft, breathless giggle, burying his face against his knees for a second. "I swear! He’s too sweet. We got back to his place, and he literally made me tea, Jaemin, at two in the morning! We just crawled into his bed and he held me, and we literally just cuddled and talked all night until the sun came up. He didn't even try anything because he said he wanted to take me out on a proper date first."

Jaemin is internally dying.

Donghyuck wasn't just giving himself away, he was being cherished in the exact, soft, domestic way Jaemin had always planned to cherish him. "Isn't that just… insane?" Donghyuck whispers, his voice soft and utterly infatuated as he looks over at Jaemin, begging for his best friend’s validation. "He's just so perfect, Nana."

"Yeah," Jaemin forces out, his voice perfectly faked cheer, he forces a tiny smirk onto his lips, his eyes completely dead behind his lashes as he stares at the crease in his textbook. "Sounds like a literal fairytale, Hyuck."

"Right?" Donghyuck beams, completely missing the absolute wreckage he’s made of his best friend’s heart. "Okay, but now we need to talk about you," Donghyuck says, suddenly leaning in closer, his lips twisting into a teasing, exaggerated pout. He points a finger accusingly at Jaemin's face. "Because you are a literal hypocrite, Na Jaemin! You're snapping at me for keeping secrets, but you didn't say a single word about you and Jeno! Were you hiding it from the entire group this whole time?"

Jaemin doesn't even blink. He reaches for his forgotten cup of coffee, his expression dropping into a flat, icy deadpan. "The first time we talked was last night," he says, his voice completely nonchalant.

He leaves out the entire context, of course. He doesn't explain the shared, bleeding agony of watching the dance floor, or the raw confiding they did over shots of vodka. 

"Oh, shut up, no way!" Donghyuck gasps, his eyes widening as a delighted, scandalous laugh escapes him. He slaps his palm against Jaemin’s shoulder. "First time talking and you immediately drag him back to your nest? Na Jaemin, you whore! I didn't know you had that in you."

Jaemin just takes a slow, quiet sip of his coffee, using the bitterness to swallow down the persistent, dull ache in his throat. He lets Donghyuck have his fun, letting the ridiculous assumptions serve as the perfect armor.

But then, Donghyuck’s laughter suddenly dies out. His expression shifts, his shoulders dropping as his hyper-perceptive nature takes over, turning genuinely serious, his eyes scanning Jaemin's face with real, fiercely protective best friend concern.

"But seriously, Nana…" Donghyuck starts, his voice dropping into a lower, cautious thing, his scent turning a notch soothing. "Jeno didn't… you know, force himself into your space first, right? Or use his pheromones to push you? Because you've never accepted an advance from an alpha before. Like, ever. If he pressured you because you were drunk-"

"No," Jaemin cuts him off, shaking his head without a single hint of hesitation. It's the absolute truth. He looks directly into Donghyuck’s eyes, his voice steady. "It wasn't like that. Jeno was the one to initiate the kiss at the bar, yeah. But I was already about to kiss him myself."

Donghyuck’s eyes go completely soft, a dramatic, breathless sigh escaping his lips as he places a hand over his heart. "Oh my god… the untouchable Na Jaemin finally found his match."

Jaemin internally winces at the words, a sharp, jagged piece of reality cutting through his chest because his ‘match’ was supposed to be the omega currently sitting beside him. But before he can spiral, Donghyuck’s expression completely shifts again, the soft romanticism vanishing as a downright wicked grin curls his lips.

"Okay, but if it's your first time with an alpha…" Donghyuck leans closer again, his eyebrows waggling with shameless curiosity. "Are you completely destroyed right now? Because don’t think I haven’t noticed your coffee has gone cold and usually you would already have gotten up to reheat it."

Jaemin lets out a low, rough breath. Heartbroken or not, the sheer physical reality of his body is impossible to deny, and Donghyuck has actually been with alphas before. Jaemin reaches blindly to set his coffee mug down with a small, deliberate click on the coffee table, staring at Donghyuck.

"Are alphas always that huge?" Jaemin asks, his tone entirely deadpan but his cheeks flushing a light, betraying pink. "Is that a genetic standard, or did I just get an outlier?"

Donghyuck’s jaw practically drops, a loud, cackling shriek of laughter echoing off the walls as his smirk turns entirely diabolical. "Oh my god! How big was he? Tell me!"

Instead of answering verbally, Jaemin decides to just show him.

He reaches down, grabbing the hem of his oversized white hoodie, and lifts the fabric up to his ribs. With his other hand, Jaemin places his flat palm against his lower abdomen, his fingers pointing to a spot significantly high above his waistband, right where his stomach flattens out.

"I could literally see him protrude right here when he was inside me," Jaemin says, his omega whining, longing for it again but he shoves the needy creature back.

Donghyuck completely loses his mind, burying his face in his hands as he shakes with laughter. "Holy shit!" Donghyuck gasps, wiping a tear from his eye as he looks up, having entirely too much fun. "Alright, damn! No, Jaem, I promise you, not all alphas are so gifted that they give you literal belly bulges! Lee Jeno is apparently just built different, no wonder he slept around. I can only imagine that hurting but aye if you’re into monster cocks I’m glad he was your first!"

Jaemin drops the hem of his hoodie back down, forces a small, mocking smirk onto his face to match Donghyuck's energy, letting his best friend celebrate the ridiculous logistics of his night.

He is still dying inside. The phantom smell of Mark's vanilla on Donghyuck’s jacket is a constant, suffocating reminder of everything he will never have. But as he sits there, the dull ache in his lower back a constant, sharp reminder of Jeno, Jaemin finds himself thinking of that adorable, crescent-eyed smile from this morning.

The repetitive, orchestral track of Genshin Impact loops softly from Jeno’s phone as he leans back against the headboard of his bed. It’s Sunday afternoon and he’s focused on clearing the refreshed endgame content. His fingers move over the screen with a practiced rhythm, trying to block out the dull, persistent heaviness sitting right over his chest.

The front door down the hall outside his room chimes as it's unlocked.

Jeno doesn't even lift his eyes from his phone. He doesn't need to. A second later the familiar chatter of Jaehyun and Mark filters into the apartment, joining Jungwoo and Chenle in the living area. Jeno listens to the rustle of chip bags, the clink of soda cans from the fridge, and the loud noise of a random variety show being played on the television.

Jeno stays exactly where he is, his thumb tapping the screen to restart the chamber. He doesn't want to go out there. He can't go out there, because the moment Mark stepped through the front door, a faint, devastatingly clear trail of burnt honey followed him.

He is officially dating Donghyuck now. It’s been public knowledge since Friday night, and the sheer, blinding joy Mark is carrying around is still too much for Jeno’s tender heart.

"Hey! Lee Jeno! Get out here!" Jungwoo whines from down the hallway, followed by a firm banging on Jeno's bedroom door he recognizes as Chenle’s doing before the younger walks back to the living area.

Jeno lets out a slow, quiet breath. He locks his phone, slipping it into the pocket of his black sweatpants, and pushes himself off the bed. He walks into the living room, keeping his expression into his recently perfected steady, easygoing mask, and drops heavily onto the single sofa.

Chenle is sprawled on the floor with a bowl of chips, always quick to eat the snacks Jeno and Jimin stock up on, and Mark is sitting on the edge of the sectional grey couch, his dark eyes wide and incredibly bright as he looks up from his own phone.

"Look who finally decided to join the living," Jungwoo smirks, leaning back against the kitchen counter with a mug of tea. The older omega has a sharp glint in his eyes that immediately sets off Jeno's internal alarms. Jungwoo crosses his arms, leaning forward onto the counter to begin his ambush. "So…. how long did you have your eyes set on the Na Jaemin, uh? You absolute dog."

Jeno freezes, his hands burying deeper into his pockets, back curving as if to make himself smaller, contradicting the way his alpha perks up.

"What are you talking about?" Jeno mumbles, his voice a low, flat thing.

"Oh, don't play dumb! Jungoo saw you guys leave the club together on Friday, and Giselle said you guys were sucking lips by the lower bar," Mark chimes in, his grin too broad for Jeno’s liking. He looks completely into the fun of it, his face glowing with a supportive, playful enthusiasm. "Seriously, Jeno, no other alpha has ever even gotten close to Jaemin, and you just walk out the door with him? It's kind of wild, man."

A sudden, suffocating wave of discomfort hits Jeno's chest. He stays rigid on the sofa, his knuckles turning white inside his pockets as he stares at the coffee table.

The teasing is a complete nightmare for three distinct reasons. First, he hasn't been pining after Jaemin at all, every single bit of his heart has been broken over the guy currently giggling on the couch. Second, Jeno has always absolutely loathes ‘locker-room talk’, even for someone who admittedly slept around, he was never into sharing the details of his encounters even with friends.

But third, and most intensely, his alpha is completely rejecting the intrusion. The memory of Jaemin’s soft, sweet peach scent, the way the omega had completely surrendered his body to sob and moan beneath Jeno’s in the middle of his own nest, that belongs to them. The mere idea of letting anyone even imagining how beautifully undone Jaemin had been to his touch, how good the omega took his cock, purring on his knot, it makes Jeno’s alpha snarl and growl, Jeno barely able to reel the reaction in, his cedarwood scent no doubt thickening in warning. 

"It wasn't a big deal," Jeno forces out, his tone dropping into a cold note that he hopes will end the conversation. "We just left together."

"Oh, come on, 'not a big deal'?" Chenle snorts from the floor, throwing a chip into his mouth. "Mark’s boyfriend literally texted him saying the entire apartment still smells like you, Jeno. You completely marked the territory, so don't act like you just played video games with the most coveted omega on campus."

Mark lets out another loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Seriously, dude, just tell us how it happened! Did he actually initiate it? I always thought Jaemin would literally bite an alpha's throat out if they got that close."

Jeno looks at Mark. He tracks the wide, innocent smile, the complete lack of malice, and the utter, blinding ignorance of how this entire conversation is breaking Jeno's heart into smaller pieces. Mark has absolutely no idea that his own happiness is the exact reason Jeno ended up in Jaemin’s bed in the first place.

"Well, whatever, you guys know I don’t kiss and tell," Jeno says, his voice losing its easygoing tilt entirely, dropping into a low tone, a faint edge of his alpha voice bleeding in that finally makes Chenle quiet down on the floor. Jeno pulls his phone out, unlocking the screen to continue playing. "So, drop it."

Mark blinks, a little startled by the sudden edge in Jeno’s voice, even as a beta he clearly heard it, and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. "Alright, alright, man. My bad, we’ll drop it."

"Yeah, our Jeno is a nice man, I’m sure your sweet little omega will be pleased to know you didn’t divulge any details," Jaehyun smiles with no malice, even the teasing sparkle in his eyes is faint before he pauses, as if just now thinking of something. "But seriously, Jen… are you sure you know what you’re getting into? It’s Na Jaemin. I know you don’t do relationships, but, I’m pretty sure you’re the first alpha that has scored him, are you sure this was just a hook up?"

The ambush loses its sharp, teasing tone, the collective energy in the living room shifting into something more genuinely protective. Jungwoo steps away from the kitchen counter, dropping beside Mark on the couch.

"He’s right, Jeno," Jungwoo says quietly, his voice carrying the steady, older-brother weight it always does when one of them is on thin ice. "Jaemin is… I love him, but I can tell he’s been looking for something serious. I would hate to watch either of you get hurt."

Jeno keeps his eyes fixed on his phone screen, watching his character sprint across a digital plain, but his thumb slows down. He loves his friends, he understands they care, but he can’t help finding it ironic how they’re -especially Jungwoo- so blind to the real reason behind the ache in Jeno’s chest.

"You guys are overthinking it," Jeno murmurs, his voice deep and tired. "We aren't dating, alphas and omegas hooking up as friends isn't that unusual, don’t pretend we don’t all know you two have helped each other during your heats and ruts." Jeno sends a quick pointed look at the oldest two, neither getting embarrassed as Jeno’s point stands true. “We've only been texting," Jeno carries on, throwing them that single bone so they can finally back off. "We are not together, I think we're friends now, for real."

Mark stares at him for a second, then lets out a soft, relieved sigh, a bright smile returning to his face as he leans back into the cushions. "Oh. Well, I mean, that's cool too. If he's a good friend to you, then that's great, Jeno."

"Yeah," Jeno says quietly, his eyes lingering on Mark's happy, oblivious face for one last, painful second before he forces his gaze away back to his game. "He's a good friend."

Jaemin is the only person in the world who understands the exact depth of the cold, hollow space inside Jeno's chest right now. As Chenle complains how boring Jeno is and turns the volume of the variety show back up, the loud, prerecorded laughter filling the apartment, Jeno is left to focus on his game, sighing as he can’t help but wonder how many update patches it will take for his heart to stop aching for his best friend.