Chapter Text
To describe Jeon Jeongguk as handsome somehow felt too simple for a man like him.
Standing at six feet tall, he was built in a way people found unfair. Lean in the right places, broad where it mattered. Some Formula 1 fans used to argue he was too muscular for the sport. That kind of weight was supposed to affect performance, supposed to slow a driver down eventually.
It never did. So eventually, the criticism disappeared.
Instead, people started calling him the best-looking driver on the grid.
Jeongguk had the kind of face cameras loved obsessively. Sharp jawline. Dark eyes that always looked heavy with disinterest until he focused on someone, and suddenly it felt suffocating to be perceived by him. His brows were naturally strong, giving him an almost intimidating expression even when he said nothing at all.
Then there was his mouth. People talked about that too much online
Because when Jeongguk smiled—God.
The contrast ruined people. One second he looked like masculinity personified. Cold. Untouchable. The type of alpha men instinctively respected and people naturally made space for. And then he laughed or smiled genuinely, and suddenly there was something unbearably boyish about him.
Soft.
Almost playful.
His nose scrunched slightly when he laughed hard enough. His eyes crinkled. The sharpness of his face softened just enough to make people understand why fans were obsessed with catching rare candid moments of him smiling.
It made him feel real for a second. Which was somehow worse because the combination of overwhelming masculinity and that hidden boyish charm made Jeongguk devastating to look at for too long.
His black hair often fell naturally over his forehead, slightly messy in a way stylists could never fully recreate intentionally. And then there were the tattoos.
God, the tattoos.
Dark ink crawled from his fingers up his hand and wrapped around his left forearm before disappearing beneath fabric, teasing more underneath. Some of them looked delicate from afar — almost artistic — until people stood close enough to realize how masculine they looked against his skin. Combined with the veins in his hands, the rings on his fingers, and the quiet strength in the way he moved, the tattoos only made the contrast worse.
Beautiful face.
Dangerous body.
Everything about Jeongguk looked expensive.
The Cartier rings resting against tattooed knuckles. The heavy watches peeking beneath his sleeves. The clean scent of luxury that lingered whenever he walked past. Even the way he carried himself screamed old money confidence sharpened further by the kind of success only someone dominant within their field could earn.
And maybe that was the real problem. Jeon Jeongguk didn’t just look handsome. He looked like the kind of man people accidentally ruined their lives over after one glance.
Jeongguk dated a lot of omegas.
Well—of course he did. He was twenty-seven, rich beyond reason, devastatingly attractive, and famous enough that people tracked what restaurant he ate at in real time. Settling down had never really interested him. Not yet, anyway.
What was the rush? Especially when his life constantly looked like this.
There had been Isabella Laurent, a Monaco socialite with old-money elegance and a habit of appearing beside him during yacht weekends.
Then came Sofia Moretti, an Italian runway model who once kissed him in the Ferrari paddock and caused headlines for two straight weeks.
After that was Amelia Sinclair, daughter of a British racing sponsor family. Classy. Intelligent. The kind tabloids thought he would eventually marry.
He didn’t.
Then there was Camille Dubois, a French actress who liked feeding paparazzi just enough to keep rumors alive.
Valentina Rossi came after, another model. Blonde. Stunning. Jeongguk took her to three races before quietly disappearing from her life.
People also remembered Naomi Reyes, an American singer he was photographed leaving a private club with at four in the morning.
And recently?
Juliette Hale.
An omega influencer with millions of followers and the exact type the media loved pairing him with.
Beautiful omegas.
Elegant omegas.
Powerful family omegas.
Famous omegas.
Jeongguk had been with almost every type imaginable.
But the strange thing was, despite all the headlines, despite the dating rumors, despite how desired he was, none of them ever lasted long enough to make Jeon Jeongguk stay still.
At one point during an interview, someone finally asked him about it.
“Do you think you’ll ever get married?”
The interviewer asked it jokingly at first, mostly because Jeongguk had built a reputation around being impossible to tie down. The clips of him with different omegas every season certainly didn’t help.
Jeongguk only smiled faintly at the question, leaning back lazily in his chair.
“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “I’m only twenty-seven.”
The audience laughed softly.
Then he added, almost absentmindedly—
“And honestly? I think I’m probably too much for most people.”
The interviewer blinked. “Too much?”
Jeongguk shrugged once, calm as ever beneath the camera lights.
“My life is… intense.” A small smile pulled at his mouth. “The schedule. The media. The pressure. I disappear for months sometimes. I think people romanticize it until they actually experience it.”
“So no marriage plans anytime soon?”
Jeongguk shook his head lightly. “Not really.”
The interviewer glanced down at his cards before smiling carefully. “You know, people online actually noticed something.”
Jeongguk raised an eyebrow slightly.
“You’ve never publicly dated a Korean omega.”
The audience reacted immediately at that.
Some laughing. Some gasping.
Jeongguk just leaned further back into his seat, completely unbothered.
“Hm,” he hummed softly, like he had heard the observation before. “I guess that’s true.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
Another small shrug.
“I don’t know if it’s intentional.” He smiled faintly. “Compatibility, maybe.”
The interviewer laughed nervously. “That answer is going to start discourse.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Jeongguk said calmly. “I just think Korean dating culture expects more emotional consistency than I can realistically give.”
“You make yourself sound like a walking red flag.”
That finally made Jeongguk laugh.
A real laugh this time. And somehow that made him look even worse.
“Probably,” he admitted easily. “At least I’m honest about it.”
And so when Jeongguk suddenly extended his stay in Seoul far longer than usual, people started whispering immediately because Jeon Jeongguk never stayed anywhere without reason.
Especially not Korea. The rumors spread so fast it became ridiculous.
Is there finally someone who caught the Formula 1 driver’s attention?
Media outlets began connecting him to every influential omega within Seoul’s elite circles. Daughters of chaebol families. Models. Actors. Even an orchestra conductor somehow ended up involved in the rumors despite never meeting him once in her life.
Names kept appearing beside his.
Articles.
Blind items.
Dispatch threads.
Everyone suddenly wanted to figure out which omega finally made Jeon Jeongguk stay still.
A shame, really because the only name Jeongguk actually wanted to see, never appeared in any of them.
It was past ten in the evening when Jeongguk’s Black Pagani Zonda rolled through the glowing streets of Itaewon.
The engine alone turned heads. Low, expensive, and obnoxiously rare beneath Seoul’s city lights, the car moved smoothly past crowded sidewalks and flashing signs as nightlife bloomed around him. Itaewon was alive at this hour — celebrities slipping into private lounges, socialites laughing beneath neon lights, athletes and influencers filling the streets like moving luxury campaigns.
And somehow, Jeongguk still stood out. Maybe because people recognized the car immediately. Maybe because the moment the valet doors opened and Jeongguk stepped out, attention naturally shifted toward him anyway.
Black slacks. Black fitted button-up with the sleeves rolled just enough to expose tattooed forearms. Silver rings resting against veined hands. The cold gleam of an expensive watch beneath dim lighting.
His black hair fell messily across his forehead from the drive, softening the sharpness of his face just enough to make him look unfairly handsome beneath the camera flashes already going off nearby.
Jeon Jeongguk looked less like an formula 1 racer and more like the dangerous fantasy tabloids had spent years building him into.
He handed the keys of his Pagani Zonda to the valet just as another engine pulled beside him moments later.
Ferrari.
Jeongguk recognized the sound instantly before the car even fully stopped. The driver’s side door opened and Taehyung stepped out looking far too pleased with himself.
Jeongguk’s gaze flickered once over the car. “Is that an F80?”
Taehyung grinned immediately. “Ah-huh.”
A small amused smile finally pulled at Jeongguk’s mouth. “You’re so loyal.”
Taehyung barked out a laugh. “Please. You literally drive for Ferrari.”
“And you’re still emotionally committed to the company despite only staring at telemetry screens all day,” Jeongguk replied smoothly.
Taehyung placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “I’ll have you know I contribute greatly to your success.”
“You yell at engineers and drink iced americanos.”
“I analyze strategy.”
“You panic professionally.”
Taehyung looked offended.
“Anyway,” he continued, gesturing proudly toward the Ferrari, “with the bonus I got after your last win, I figured why not?”
Then he patted the hood proudly. “Though this thing probably destroyed my future savings.”
They started walking toward the private entrance, security already opening the doors the second they recognized them. Jeongguk hummed thoughtfully before speaking in the calmest voice imaginable. “Shouldn’t you be preserving your wealth for the beta you’re attempting to court?”
Taehyung already looked exhausted.
Jeongguk continued anyway, voice smooth and calm in the most ridiculous way possible.
“Flowers. Formal visits. Handwritten letters perhaps.” He slid one hand into his pocket. “Maybe stand outside their family estate holding yearning in your chest like a Victorian man dying from tuberculosis.”
Taehyung stared at him flatly. “You’re actually insane.”
Jeongguk looked back at him innocently. “It’s a suggestion.”
“A terrible one.”
“Alpha to alpha” Jeongguk continued solemnly, “I’m simply helping you.”
Taehyung scoffed loudly. “You sleep with models and disappear to Monaco every other month. Since when did you become a relationship expert?”
A faint smirk tugged at Jeongguk’s mouth. “I observe people.”
“You make them emotionally unstable.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” Taehyung looked personally exhausted already. “That singer from Madrid literally made a breakup album because you stopped texting her during race season.”
Jeongguk looked unbothered. “It was a good album.”
“And that French socialite cried at Cannes because you missed her birthday.”
“I sent flowers.”
“You sent them three days later.”
Jeongguk shrugged lightly.
Taehyung continued anyway. “That influencer from LA kept posting sad quotes for months after you ghosted her.”
“I didn’t ghost her.”
“You vanished into Europe for two months.”
“I was employed.”
Taehyung stared at him in disbelief. “You are exactly why Korean omegas think you’re terrifying.”
Seokjin was nursing his drink quietly as he watched Jimin talk animatedly with Hoseok near the lounge area.
The entire club had been rented out tonight for the national football team’s farewell party before the upcoming World Cup qualifiers. It wasn’t some messy celebrity gathering either. The event was heavily organized, polished enough to attract sponsors, athletes from other sports, a handful of celebrities, socialites, and chaebol heirs connected to the federation.
People moved through the room dressed in luxury brands and national pride all at once.
Seokjin was only here because of Namjoon.
Well—Namjoon and the fact he occasionally worked as a consultant for the team’s rehabilitation and conditioning staff.
Enough to be invited. Enough to know people.
Not enough to enjoy events like this.
The music pulsed softly beneath conversations while waiters carried champagne through the crowd. Jimin was laughing at something Hoseok said when suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. It happened so fast Seokjin almost thought he imagined it.
The DJ abruptly switched tracks.
Tokyo Drift blasted through the speakers.
The reaction was immediate. Half the national football team suddenly turned toward the entrance at once like synchronized movement.
Some players were already talking loudly, excitement practically exploding out of them.
“No way, he actually came?”
“Bro, did you see the Las Vegas race last month?”
“I’m telling you right now if he leaves early I’m asking for a picture.”
“Hyung, act normal first.”
“Why is the DJ playing Tokyo Drift like he’s entering WrestleMania?”
Seokjin frowned slightly, following everyone’s line of sight toward the entrance just as people near the doors began parting instinctively.
And then he saw why.
And then, somehow, the DJ made everything worse.
The music shifted again.
Sports Car blasted through the speakers this time.
A collective scream erupted from the football team almost immediately.
“OH MY GOD—”
“WHAT THE HELL, MAN.”
“TURN IT OFF.”
“BUT IT’S FITTING.”
Seokjin nearly choked on his drink because unfortunately, the timing could not have been more horrific. Jeongguk was now casually greeting some of the football players as if the entire room wasn’t actively losing dignity around him. Hands shaking. Arms slinging briefly around shoulders. Namjoon was already laughing while patting him on the back, clearly unsurprised by the chaos following his arrival.
Meanwhile, the song kept playing shamelessly in the background.
“This is so embarrassing,” one of the football players groaned while covering his face.
Taehyung looked seconds away from collapsing from laughter.
And the worst part? Jeongguk barely reacted. Like he genuinely did not realize an entire room of athletes, celebrities, and socialites were currently having a collective crisis over his existence.
Or maybe he did realize. Maybe that was worse.
“Oh damn, there’s Seokjin.”
Taehyung said it casually, but Jeongguk’s attention followed immediately.
Too immediately.
His gaze crossed the crowded club almost on instinct before landing near the lounge area where Seokjin stood holding a drink beside two omegas.
And for a second, Jeongguk genuinely forgot Taehyung was still talking because the pictures really didn’t do him justice.
That was the first thought that entered his head.
Jeongguk had technically seen Seokjin before. After that conversation with Namjoon and Taehyung, curiosity eventually got the better of him. Mostly because the way Taehyung described Seokjin sounded absurd.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Out of everyone’s league.
At one point Taehyung genuinely sounded so serious Jeongguk almost expected Seokjin to descend from the heavens personally blessed by Aphrodite.
So naturally, Jeongguk searched him up afterward.
Instagram pictures. Random articles tied to the national team. A few society event photos.
Enough to understand Seokjin was objectively attractive.
Not enough to prepare him for this.
Because in person, Seokjin had presence. The kind cameras flattened unfairly.
Tall. Beautiful in a way that blurred the line between masculine and pretty without diminishing either. Soft-looking features paired with an almost untouchable composure. Even beneath dim club lighting, Seokjin stood out effortlessly without appearing like he was trying to.
Jeongguk stared a second too long.
“Hey. Hey.” Taehyung suddenly stepped directly into his line of sight. “Look at me.”
Jeongguk blinked once.
“Not Seokjin.” Taehyung warned
A pause.
“You don’t even like Seokjin.”
Jeongguk’s eyes shifted past him immediately anyway.
Taehyung looked genuinely horrified now. “Oh no.”
Jeongguk finally tore his eyes away from Seokjin long enough to frown at him slightly. “What?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Taehyung hissed. “You’re staring.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Jeongguk looked unimpressed already. “Relax.”
“Relax?” Taehyung repeated in disbelief. “We cannot have the same person, Jeon Jeongguk.”
That finally made Jeongguk scoff.
“Have it ever occurred to you,” he said dryly, “that I’m staring because I genuinely don’t know what kind of person would make you act like this?”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“You’ve been talking about Kim Seokjin like a man writing love letters during wartime.”
“That is not the point.”
“You described him like he descended from heaven personally handcrafted by Aphrodite.”
Taehyung looked offended immediately. “Because look at him.”
Jeongguk glanced back toward Seokjin despite himself.
Unfortunately, Taehyung caught that too.
“Oh my God.” Taehyung grabbed his arm dramatically. “Jeongguk, I will fight you.”
“For what?”
“You looked again.”
“I was observing.”
“You don’t observe like that.”
Jeongguk looked genuinely confused now. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to ruin my life competitively.”
Taehyung grabbed him by the arm dramatically. “We’re friends, okay? Friends don’t do this to each other.”
“Do what?”
“Steal each other’s future husbands!”
Jeongguk looked genuinely offended now. “He rejected you five times.”
“That is beside the point.”
“You’re acting like I proposed already.”
“You looked at him twice,” Taehyung said weakly. “Jeon Jeongguk, I know your patterns. This is exactly how disasters begin.”
Taehyung looked borderline emotional now. “The Kims are actually going to like you.”
Jeongguk blinked.
“You’re rich, successful, internationally famous, athletic, weirdly polite to elders—” Taehyung sounded more devastated with every word. “Oh my God, Namjoon already likes you.”
“That feels dramatic.”
“And Seokjin’s family are athletes!” Taehyung looked seconds away from tears. “You drive for Ferrari. His father will probably invite you inside immediately.”
Jeongguk snorted softly despite himself before his gaze drifted briefly toward Seokjin again, then toward the omega standing beside him. “Who’s the one next to him?”
Taehyung followed his line of sight immediately. “That’s Park Jimin.”
Jeongguk hummed once before casually saying, “You want your beta? I’ll get the omega.”
Taehyung froze. “What?”
Jeongguk looked at him with complete calm. “You think I’m looking at your beta?”
Silence.
Then the relief on Taehyung’s face was so immediate it looked almost spiritual.
“Oh.”
A pause.
Then dramatically—
“YOU SHOULD’VE SAID THAT EARLIER.”
Seokjin noticed them approaching almost immediately.
Well—mostly because half the room unconsciously shifted around Jeon Jeongguk wherever he walked.
It was honestly irritating. The Formula 1 driver moved through the club with the kind of effortless confidence people only developed after years of being watched. Black clothes. Tattooed forearms. Calm expression like he didn’t realize the entire room kept staring at him every few seconds.
Beside Seokjin, Jimin suddenly went suspiciously quiet. Seokjin glanced sideways.
The omega was blushing.
Oh.
Absolutely not.
“You’re blushing,” Seokjin said flatly.
Jimin looked horrified. “Hyung.”
“You’re literally pink.”
“That’s Jeon Jeongguk.”
“Yes,” Seokjin replied dryly. “Unfortunately the whole country knows that.”
Jimin tried fixing his expression, but around them, Seokjin could already hear the whispers starting.
“Oh my God, he’s probably going after Park Jimin.”
Well—to be fair, Seokjin understood why people would think that. Park Jimin was beautiful. Not just pretty, but enchanting in the kind of way that naturally drew attention without effort. Soft features, warm smile, elegant posture. The type of omega alphas noticed immediately the second he entered a room.
Seokjin had learned that the hard way.
Courting Jimin had practically turned into a competitive sport over the last few months because every alpha with functioning eyesight somehow decided they wanted him too. Athletes. Actors. Heirs. Seokjin genuinely lost count at some point.
Which meant he had spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to maintain the upper hand.
Flowers.
Consistent attention.
Remembering details.
Showing up.
Actually trying.
And now suddenly Jeon Jeongguk was standing three feet away looking like that. Absolutely terrible for Seokjin’s blood pressure.
“Shut up. Dr. Kim is courting Jimin, remember?”
A pause.
Then quieter—
“Do you seriously think someone like Jeon Jeongguk cares about rules?”
Seokjin’s jaw twitched slightly.
Interesting.
Because apparently the entire country already decided Jeon Jeongguk could steal omegas simply by existing.
Good to know.
And just as the two alphas finally stopped in front of them, Hoseok visibly straightened beside Seokjin too, suddenly looking weirdly alert like a small animal sensing danger.
“Dr. Kim,” Jeongguk greeted smoothly.
His voice was annoyingly nice too.
“Jeon.”
“Hi, Seokjin,” Taehyung said cheerfully beside him like the atmosphere wasn’t weird already. “Long time no see. You’re still the most beautiful person in the room, I suppose.”
That immediately made Hoseok laugh. “God, you still flirt like an auntie.”
Taehyung looked offended instantly. “That was sincere.”
Meanwhile, Seokjin caught something interesting from the corner of his eye. Jeongguk glanced toward Jimin. Only briefly, but Seokjin noticed it anyway.
Competition indeed.
And then—to Seokjin’s absolute disbelief—Jeongguk suddenly reached for Jimin’s hand.
The entire group seemed to pause. Jimin visibly froze while Jeongguk lifted the omega’s hand effortlessly and pressed a kiss against the back of it like they were inside some aristocratic ballroom instead of a nightclub in Itaewon. Nearby football players immediately started screaming.
“OH MY GOD.”
“HE DID NOT JUST—”
Taehyung looked seconds away from collapsing onto the floor, but Seokjin barely heard any of it because Jeongguk wasn’t looking at Jimin. He was looking directly at him. Straight into Seokjin’s eyes. Dark gaze calm. Intentional. Challenging.
And with Jimin’s hand still held lightly in his own, Jeongguk said smoothly, “I never thought I’d get this close to someone so divine.”
The bastard. He was absolutely doing this on purpose. Around them, people clearly thought the loud music blasting through the club covered their voices enough.
It didn’t.
“Is he saying that to Jimin-ssi or Dr. Kim? I genuinely can’t tell.”
“Jimin obviously, he’s kissing Jimin’s hand.”
“Then why is he staring at Dr. Kim like that?”
But even Taehyung looked like he immediately realized this crossed a line.
“Uhh, Jeongguk—” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
And that alone told Seokjin enough.
Because Taehyung, despite being dramatic and annoying, genuinely understood etiquette surrounding courting culture in South Korea.
Which meant if even he looked stressed right now, then yes, Jeon Jeongguk absolutely did that intentionally.
Taehyung cleared his throat before suddenly turning toward Seokjin much more formally than earlier.
“Dr. Kim, apologies,” he said quickly. “Jeongguk grew up in the US. He doesn’t really know the etiquette around courting.”
Around them, the nearby whispers immediately quieted because everyone understood what Taehyung was actually saying.
Jeongguk had overstepped.
Taehyung continued weakly, now looking directly at Jeongguk. “You’re not supposed to touch the hand of an omega being publicly courted. Especially not with the alpha around.”
And without missing a beat, Jeongguk said smoothly—
“But he’s not an alpha.”
Silence.
Oh.
Oh, the bastard wanted violence tonight.
Seokjin slowly tilted his head.
Then smiled.
Calmly. Dangerously.
“No,” Seokjin agreed softly. “But unlike some people, I don’t need secondary gender to keep someone interested.”
A few people nearby audibly choked. Taehyung physically covered his face while Jeongguk only smiled slightly.
“I didn’t realize you were the possessive type, Dr. Kim.”
Seokjin tilted his head lazily. “I didn’t realize you enjoyed causing problems this much.”
“Only when someone reacts interestingly.”
The answer came smoothly enough that Seokjin almost missed it. Almost. Beside them, Hoseok looked ready to pass away quietly.
Seokjin smiled anyway. “So this was intentional?”
Jeongguk glanced briefly toward Jimin before returning his attention back to Seokjin. “What? The hand kiss?”
“The public scandal you caused three seconds after arriving.”
A faint amused breath escaped Jeongguk. “You make it sound dramatic.”
“You kissed the omega I’m courting in front of me.”
“And yet,” Jeongguk replied smoothly, “you seem more interested in arguing with me than comforting him.”
That made Seokjin pause for half a second too long. Jeongguk noticed immediately. Of course he did.
The bastard looked almost entertained now.
Eventually Namjoon decided to intervene, stepping between them with the exhausted expression of someone sensing tension escalating far too quickly.
“Alright,” he sighed, looking between Seokjin and Jeongguk. “Whatever this weird alpha-beta staring contest is, save it for later.”
Taehyung immediately pointed at them. “THANK YOU.”
Hoseok looked moments away from stress-induced collapse while nearby football players were openly invested now.
Seokjin scoffed softly before finishing the rest of his drink. “Excuse me.”
Before anyone could stop him, he turned and walked away toward the quieter hallway near the private lounges, needing distance before he genuinely committed violence. The music grew duller the further he walked.
Good.
Because honestly? Jeon Jeongguk was irritating. Dangerously irritating and Seokjin absolutely hated the fact he could still feel that stare on him even now.
A few seconds later, footsteps echoed behind him.
Of course.
Seokjin didn’t even bother turning around. “I purposely fled away from that,” he said dryly while continuing to walk. “Why are you following me?”
To his surprise, Jeongguk suddenly caught up faster than expected.
Seokjin barely made it past the dark hallway before a hand suddenly caught his wrist lightly. Not rough. Still enough to stop him.
“Running away already?” Jeongguk asked quietly.
Seokjin glanced down at the hand before looking back up at him. “You’ve caused enough damage for one night.”
A faint smile pulled at Jeongguk’s mouth. “Damage?”
“You kissed someone I’m courting in front of me.”
“And yet,” Jeongguk murmured, stepping closer slowly, “you’re the one who walked away angry.”
Seokjin hated how close he suddenly was. Up close, Jeongguk smelled expensive. Clean cologne layered over something warmer underneath. The kind of scent that lingered too long in enclosed spaces.
“You enjoy provoking people?” Seokjin asked coolly.
“Only certain people.”
The answer came too easily. Jeongguk stepped closer again until Seokjin’s back almost brushed the wall behind him. Not trapped yet. Just close enough to feel intentional. Close enough that Seokjin could see the faint scar cutting through Jeongguk’s left cheek beneath the dim hallway lights
For one second neither of them spoke.
Then Jeongguk’s gaze dropped briefly toward Seokjin’s mouth. That tiny movement somehow made the atmosphere shift instantly.
Seokjin noticed.
“Careful,” he said quietly.
Jeongguk tilted his head slightly. “Or what?”
Seokjin should’ve stepped away then. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was.
And Jeongguk noticed that too. The alpha’s hand finally settled against Seokjin’s waist slowly this time. Testing. Waiting. Like he expected resistance.
When Seokjin didn’t move immediately, something darker flickered through Jeongguk’s expression.
“There you are,” he murmured softly.
“What exactly do you think this is?” Seokjin asked.
“I think,” Jeongguk said quietly, “you’re just as curious as I am.”
Then he kissed him.
Confident. Certain.
Because honestly? Jeongguk had kissed enough people to know what usually happened next. People softened. Melted. Followed his lead. Especially once he pressed them against walls like this.
And for exactly two seconds, Seokjin did kiss him back. Warm mouth. Sharp inhale. Fingers spreading briefly against Jeongguk’s chest, clutching at the fabric stretched over muscle.
Then everything flipped.
Literally. Jeongguk barely processed what happened before Seokjin suddenly shoved him backward hard enough for his shoulders to slam against the opposite wall. The impact knocked surprise straight through him.
Fuck.
Seokjin stood in front of him now breathing slightly harder, one forearm pressed firmly across Jeongguk’s chest while the other hand braced beside his head against the wall.
“What exactly,” Seokjin asked quietly, “made you think you could do that?”
And weirdly enough, that was the exact moment Jeongguk realized he was in trouble.
Because Seokjin wasn’t flustered. Wasn’t overwhelmed.
He was furious. Actually furious. Not the playful irritation from earlier. Not the sharp teasing across the club.
Real anger. The kind that sat cold and heavy beneath composure.
That only made Jeongguk stare harder.
“I think you’re forgetting something, Jeon,” Seokjin said quietly. Dangerously quietly.
“I’m a Kim.”
The pressure of Seokjin’s forearm against Jeongguk’s chest tightened slightly. "Who exactly do you think you are to cross that boundary?”
The words landed sharp between them.
Not flirting. Not teasing.
Real.
For the first time that night, Jeongguk saw it properly. Not just the composed doctor. Not just the beautiful beta everyone circled around carefully.
A Kim. Old family pride. Old blood arrogance. The type raised to never let people take liberties with him.
And suddenly Jeongguk understood something else too.
Seokjin probably had no idea how many alphas watched him. How many eyes lingered too long. How many people were probably waiting for a single opening around him.
Because standing this close now, with Seokjin furious and breathing unevenly beneath dim hallway lighting, Jeongguk could almost understand why people gravitated toward him so naturally.
Beautiful. Proud. Untouchable in a way that only made people want closer.
And suddenly the atmosphere felt heavier because Seokjin wasn’t reacting like someone overwhelmed by Jeongguk. He was reacting like someone offended enough to fight him.
Jeongguk should’ve apologized.
Instead—
His mouth curved slowly despite himself because somehow this only made Seokjin more attractive.
“Wow,” he murmured softly. “There’s the Kim temper.”
Seokjin narrowed his eyes instantly. “This funny to you?”
“No.” Jeongguk’s gaze stayed locked on him. “Interesting.”
That only seemed to irritate Seokjin more. “You don’t know me.”
“I’m trying to.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to touch me whenever you want.”
The words hit harder than expected.
That pause between them afterward somehow felt even more dangerous than the argument itself then suddenly, Seokjin’s eyes shifted past Jeongguk’s shoulder and immediately hardened.
Jeongguk caught movement in his peripheral vision too.
Jimin and Taehyung.
Walking directly toward them.
Fuck.
Seokjin reacted instantly. He shoved Jeongguk backward hard enough for the alpha to stumble directly into Taehyung the second they reached the hallway.
“Whoa— what the hell?” Taehyung grabbed Jeongguk automatically before he fully lost balance.
Seokjin looked completely composed already. Terrifyingly composed.
“Take your Ferrari driver,” Seokjin said coldly. “Before Scuderia Ferrari loses their golden boy.”
Taehyung blinked rapidly between them. “What happened?”
“Your friend doesn’t understand boundaries.”
Jeongguk laughed softly under his breath despite the situation.
That only made Seokjin’s expression sharpen further. Then right in front of them, Seokjin lifted his hand calmly and wiped slowly across his own mouth, removing the remaining trace of their kiss like it meant absolutely nothing.
The gesture landed harder than the shoving somehow.
Afterward, Seokjin simply reached for Jimin’s hand naturally. “Come on,” he said quietly.
Jimin looked confused but followed immediately and without another glance back, Seokjin walked away with the omega beside him.
Meanwhile Taehyung slowly turned toward Jeongguk in complete disbelief.
“Oh my god,” he whispered.
Because Jeongguk was still staring after Seokjin like he wanted to drag him back into that hallway immediately.