Chapter Text

Wooyoung has been in a rut for a whopping total of two times in his life. Today marks the third.

He can’t really remember what set him off as his memories of it are a bit hazy. He just knows that in the middle of a fight, someone said some nasty shit – about San, nonetheless – and maybe it was because of what had happened at the penthouse a couple weeks ago, or the fact that some complete stranger knew what happened and had some sort of insight – but he remembers his alpha kicking in and nothing else.

Seonghwa gets notified of it immediately, thanks to his connections with Felix, because the next thing that Wooyoung knows, he’s being kept – trapped, really – in the guest bedroom of Seonghwa’s apartment. It had been Wooyoung’s room for a while, so there’s close to nothing inside of it. Mingi gets called over too, because in the past, Wooyoung’s gotten violent . Any objects that could be used as weapons – towards others or himself – are always removed from the room thanks to Seonghwa’s powers.

When he had his first rut, he’d attacked Mingi, and it had taken both Yunho and Seonghwa to pry him off. Seonghwa had to use his magic on the nearly feral alpha, and if it wasn’t for him, Wooyoung might’ve torn himself apart. They had later admitted that it was scary – and Wooyoung felt horrible. He hated the idea that his family was afraid of him.

The last time he went into a rut was when he failed to kill himself, and he was forced to shut himself away from the others and Kyungmin. Kyungmin, who spent five days sobbing because he thought his brother was dead or in too much pain, and he couldn’t help. Wooyoung doesn’t really want to have to relive that again, so he’s been careful.

His dosage, specifically a hybrid of rut suppressants and scent suppressors, was increased after he found out that the rut suppressants made him much less volatile and violent in nature. The rut suppressants were stronger, though like the scent suppressors, were developed to be taken a little more frequently. There was a lower chance of Wooyoung losing his mind if he had a higher dosage.

Unlike most alphas who reacted purely on their sex drive, and needed sex to get through their rut, there was something different with Wooyoung. Not only did he have that inherent sex drive that was hard wired into every single alpha, but he also wanted blood, which made it incredibly difficult for Wooyoung to get through his ruts with another person if his mind and body was screaming at him to tear them to pieces . Perhaps it had to do with the training camp. He doesn’t know.

It’s painful, too. 

His skin feels too tight, he’s overheating, and his mind is a messy whirl of jumbled thoughts. They’re not great thoughts either. The dark and demonic thoughts that Wooyoung tries to keep suppressed come out full force, threatening to choke him until he can’t breathe anymore, it has him clawing at his own skin until he draws blood, which is when either Mingi or Seonghwa intervene to try to keep him down. 

He reacts viscerally.

Wooyoung does not like it when others are in his space when he’s in his rut. Even if they wear their scent blockers, Wooyoung can still smell their pheromones, and it stings his nose, and it makes his vision flash red. He’s vulnerable in his rut, senses dulled with a head full of mocking demons. He doesn’t feel safe in his own body. At least when he’s sober, he can think more clearly.

He hates his ruts.

He hates not having control over himself, or over his alpha. He keeps that part of him under lock and key. It makes his skin itch, uncomfortable in his own skin.

Mingi and Seonghwa sometimes stay in the room whenever Wooyoung needs to force out an orgasm and he’s too unsteady to be left alone – they’ve known each other long enough to not give a fuck – and Wooyoung buries his face in the covers or pillows, teeth clamped down around the fluff or blankets, muffling his snarls.

Wooyoung spends most of his rut pacing, curled up on the bed with his head braced between his knees, arms wrapped around his legs as he tries – and fails – to purge his head of thoughts, or practically begging Mingi or Seonghwa to keep him chained to the headboard, wrists cuffed so he can’t hurt himself or others when his head gets overwhelming.

Mingi and Seonghwa hate the chains.

Wooyoung has some fucked up response to them, and he knows it. He still associates it with his father, keeping him leashed and tied to the rotting fence post outside whenever he was being quote, disobedient, and his brain quiets down, letting him slump against the wall or the side of the bed, silent until he passes out from the pain and blood-boiling heat that surges through his body.

On the third day of his rut, Seonghwa and Mingi are in the room, already starting to work on getting the chains out, as Wooyoung had requested in the last bits of soberness he had of his rut when the angel’s phone rings. Seonghwa curses, hands full, and Mingi strides over to him to take the chains and the collar, hesitating briefly as he moves back over to Wooyoung.

“I don’t care, just do it.” Wooyoung snarls. He sees Seonghwa departing the room, shoulders tense.

“San?”

Wooyoung’s alpha perks up at that. It slips between his fingers before he can catch a grip on it, and he’s moving before he realizes it.

“Um. I just wanted to check in and see if everything was okay?” San’s voice is tinny and soft, something that Wooyoung would normally not hear, but for some reason, his alpha’s got razor-sharp hearing for San’s voice.

“They’re going alright, it’s just-”

Wooyoung lunges for the door. Mingi yells, dropping the chains and pounces, just barely catching Wooyoung and sending them crashing to the floor. They hit the wall, and a vase on the other side tips over and smashes into pieces on the ground.

“Hwa!” Mingi yells, struggling to keep Wooyoung’s limbs pinned, the younger man’s body tense, muscles coiled, ready to attack. They all know that Wooyoung can easily break out of Mingi's hold when he's sober. When he's in a rut? His strength is magnified.

“If this is a bad time I can call back?” San sounds alarmed – concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” Seonghwa’s voice filters through. Wooyoung growls.

His. His. His. Mine. Mine. Mine. His alpha howls, snarling. He shoves Mingi off of him, sending him crashing against the foot of the bed, nearly swiping nails across the Malinoi shifter’s face, hearing a startled yelp, his brain whirring. San. San. San.

“Goddammit. Mingi, grab him before he does something stupid!” Seonghwa barks, and Mingi scrambles to his feet and makes a grab for Wooyoung again, this time looping an arm around the young alpha’s waist, hauling him back into the bedroom in a whirl of panicked pheromones as Wooyoung kicks and snarls, lashing out.

It’s a struggle that earns Mingi a few harsh bites to the arm and dark lines of nail marks, but Mingi manages to shove the collar on, and instantly, Wooyoung’s body goes limp, his father’s sneer flashing through his eyelids, an unpleasant shudder running down his spine. Mingi works quickly, and when he’s finished, he crouches before Wooyoung, cupping his face gently, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze.

“You with me, Woo?” He asks, softly. Wooyoung blinks at him. It takes a few moments to recognize who’s in front of him. Wooyoung bares his teeth, but he doesn’t do anything, letting his head fall onto the side of the bed.

“It fucking hurts.” Wooyoung slurs, vision blurry.

“I know.” Mingi’s eyes are troubled, leaning forward to thump their foreheads together. “Did…” He pauses. “Did you feel anything different when you heard San’s voice?” A low rumble starts in Wooyoung’s chest before he realizes it, possessive and dark.

“Mine.” Wooyoung says, eyes closing. “Miss him. Mine.”

“You’ll see him soon, okay?” Mingi says, fingers gently carding through Wooyoung’s hair. 

Wooyoung only grunts in response.

Wooyoung hates clubs. There’s so much alcohol, too many sweaty bodies and too many flashing lights. But his friends are so enthusiastic about it, and Wooyoung doesn’t want to admit that their constant wheedling is slowly chipping away at his stubbornness. When they bring it up for the fourth time, when all eight of them are out for dinner, Wooyoung still declines. He’d honestly much rather just spend a night watching a movie with Felix, Chan and the rest of the mafia. It’s always more amusing to watch everyone bicker back and forth about what’s going to happen or the morals and ethics of the characters as if they weren’t morally or ethically sane themselves.

But then Yunho tugs him in by the arm, dipping his head low to murmur in Wooyoung’s ear.

“Y’know, San’s gonna come with us. You know he’s hella attractive – hot, really – and I’m pretty sure that you’re not the only one who has eyes for him, hm?”

It sounds manipulative – it definitely is – and Yunho’s totally playing into his feelings for San. Wooyoung’s eyes flicker over to San, who tilts his head curiously at him around a mouthful of rice, cheeks puffed out, a piece of meat dangling from his chopsticks. Wooyoung fires a glare at Yunho, one that he knows is his you’re a bitch face, to which Yunho only stares back at him smugly.

Wooyoung begrudgingly agrees to go and Yunho cheers, throwing his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulders, nuzzling their cheeks together enthusiastically. Wooyoung pokes him in the side.

Felix is the one who shoves an outfit into Wooyoung’s hands when he knocks on the alpha’s door. He claims that a “casual” look is the way to go, and Wooyoung eyes the clothes in his hands warily. He knows that Yunho will be here soon, and he was spending an admittedly long time just staring at his closet. He still doesn’t have many clothes other than sweatpants, hoodies, cargo pants and long-sleeved shirts, even though he is trying to expand a little bit. He thanks Felix quietly, who beams at him, tells him to be back by around midnight if he can, and practically skips off down the hall.

Wooyoung changes, running a hand through his hair a couple times before his phone vibrates with two texts from Yunho, announcing his arrival. The shifter is buzzing with excitement, and when he sees Wooyoung, his grin grows and he gives a sharp wolf whistle. Yunho fiddles with Wooyoung’s outfit a little bit, giving him an even more unkempt look while Wooyoung just stands there, rolling his eyes as Yunho fusses over him.

The drive there takes a little longer since Yunho realizes he forgot his wallet so they have to swing by his apartment, and because Yunho doesn’t have pockets, Wooyoung shoves Yunho’s wallet and keys into the pocket of his borrowed – if Wooyoung’s being honest, he’s pretty sure Felix will insist that he keeps it – varsity jacket that he ends up slinging over his shoulder. He can already hear the thumping bass of the club from across the street, and grimaces, bracing himself for a night that might honestly be pretty shitty.

When they enter, Wooyoung instantly feels eyes on them, skin crawling just a little, but he finds that doesn’t really care at that moment, following Yunho’s tall figure through the crowd instead. The shifter spots the others first, because he lights up and he’s grabbing Wooyoung by the wrist and bounds through the crowd, throwing himself into Mingi’s arms.

“Look who finally showed up.” Seonghwa says with an easy going smile as Wooyoung slides to stand next to him.

“Yunho forgot his wallet so we had to turn around.” Wooyoung hums, hanging up his jacket. San’s standing there, a little ways away from Seonghwa, looking sweet and awkwardly out of place and adorable. And hot. Really hot.

The other man is wearing a cropped and sleeveless black top with an even shorter cropped denim jacket thrown over it, abdomen and tiny waist on full display. His jeans lay low on his hips, and it’s a little dark in the club, but San looks fucking amazing.

Wooyoung can’t really help himself, eyes sweeping over San’s form. The other man is obviously flustered by this, shifting, hands twitching as if he wants to cover himself. Wooyoung can also tell that others are looking at San, and his alpha wants to growl at them, to get them to back off, because San is his , but Wooyoung shoves it down – he can’t call San his when he can’t even bring himself to articulate his own damn feelings.

“You look nice.” San blurts out, trying to meet his eyes, as if hoping that Wooyoung would stop staring.

“Mm. Thanks. You too.” Wooyoung ignores it, and continues to admire him.

“Stop staring at me.” San whines, covering his face with his hands – cute – but it does nothing but let the crop top ride up even more, exposing more smooth and tanned skin. Wooyoung sort of wants to put his mouth on him.

“If that’s what you want.” Wooyoung says, amused. There’s a couple beats of silence, and he watches as San peeks at him through his fingers. When he realizes Wooyoung is still just staring, he huffs, pouts and drops his hands, awkwardly shifting in place. Wooyoung’s not really sure what else to say.

When he braces himself on the table, he notices the way that San’s eyes dart over to him, catching the way Wooyoung’s shirt parts slightly to expose a sliver of skin. San’s throat bobs. Wooyoung suddenly wonders if any of his scars are visible and stomps down the visceral thoughts that come with it.

“You should go dance, too.”

“Eh? Why?” San looks wholly confused, brow furrowed.

“Let loose, or something. You’re too tense.” Wooyoung tells him. San scrunches his nose up, and instead takes a sip of his drink.

“Alcohol does the same thing.” San mumbles.

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. He doesn’t know what to say to that – his father was anything but “relaxed” around alcohol. His friends didn’t often drink either. Eventually, he spots Yeosang waving at him excitedly from across the club, obviously a little tipsy, and Wooyoung straightens. “Well, I promised Yeosang I’d dance with him. Are you good if I go?”

“Um. Yeah, sure.” San says, but his face says anything but. He looks a little sulky. Like a cat, Wooyoung thinks. But he still waves Wooyoung off, and Wooyoung shrugs, sliding out from the table to meet Yeosang on the dance floor.

He hasn’t gone dancing in forever, but it’s easy to lose himself in the music, remembering the lessons that Yunho had dragged Wooyoung to when he had time years ago. Yeosang grins at him, a little more affectionate now that he’s tipsy, but Wooyoung finds that he actually doesn’t mind it too much.

“You think we can drag San onto the dance floor at some point?” Yeosang asks after a couple of songs.

“Maybe.” Wooyoung shrugs. “I don’t know how we’d plan on doing that. If he’s uncomfortable, then he doesn’t have to.”

“Well, that’s where you come in.” Yeosang arches a brow. Wooyoung mimics his expression. “You know, San gets easily jealous.”

“And? Your point?”

“Lure him out. He likes dancing. He’ll probably like it even more if it’s with you.” Yeosang giggles. Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“I’ll consider it.”

After about thirty or so minutes later, Yeosang tugs on Wooyoung’s sleeve.

“I think Sannie needs some help.” Yeosang hums. Wooyoung turns to follow his gaze, noticing that another man has approached San, who looks distinctly uncomfortable, shaking his head, but the man doesn’t seem to care.

“I got it.” Wooyoung brushes his fingers through Yeosang’s hair, the cat shifter preening, and slips his way through the crowd and over to San. “Who’s this?” Wooyoung asks, tone fakely sweet as he curls an arm around San’s waist, feeling the other man shiver beneath his touch, stomach flexing beneath Wooyoung’s fingertips. He feels oddly warm – warmer than he usually is. Wooyoung has to resist the urge to squeeze, remembering the way San had reacted to it last time.

No. 

Focus, Wooyoung.

Lee Changhyuk. Beta. Human.

The other man backs off quickly, stuttering apologies. When he’s gone, Wooyoung drops his arm and steps away, noting the way that San seems to wilt at the loss of physical contact. It’s not much later when Wooyoung’s dancing with Yeosang again that the shifter peers up at him, eyes glittering.

“You wanna put that plan in place?” He asks, teeth sharp. Wooyoung’s eyes flicker over to San, who looks awfully sulky, nursing his drink, staring at it with a forlorn look, lips pouted.

“Why not?” Wooyoung hums. He guides them, looping a hand around the back of Yeosang’s neck as the other man does the same, foreheads bumping as they move side to side. It doesn’t take long before Yeosang’s snickering.

“That was too easy.” Yeosang snorts. Wooyoung’s lips curl up into a small smirk.

“Mm. Go have some fun, Yeosang. I see Jongho behind you, by the way.” Wooyoung says. Yeosang lights up at that, whirling around instantly to bound over to his mate with a sing-song call of his name. Wooyoung watches him go before he turns to catch San’s eyes.

The other man is definitely sulking, slumped against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, covering half of his abdomen, as if trying to give off an air of nonchalance. But he's staring directly at Wooyoung, jealousy evident on his face. It’s not working. Wooyoung beckons San forward, and it only takes a couple of seconds before San is moving over towards him. He’s gorgeous.

“Are you sure you’re just a human?” San asks. Wooyoung blinks, tilting his head.

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung asks, cautiously. Does San know? San pouts.

“You always manage to just… I dunno. Get me to come back to you.” San averts his gaze, cheeks flushing.

“Oh. Is that a bad thing?” Wooyoung makes a move to step away from the older man, and catches a brief flash of panic that flits through San’s eyes.

“No, no.” San says quickly, hands twitching, as if trying to reach out to stop Wooyoung from moving away, but uncertain if he can touch.

“Maybe I just have you wrapped around my finger.” Wooyoung teases. And San stares at Wooyoung like he holds all the answers to the world in the palm of his hands.

It’s easy enough to convince San to start dancing with him. The other man’s hands are searing hot while they rest on Wooyoung’s waist, shivering when Wooyoung clasps his hands behind San’s neck, drawing him just a little closer as they sway. He’s well aware of the way San’s eyes are just roving over his face and body, the way they linger on his lips, the flush that darkens on his cheeks.

When a fight breaks out, Wooyoung’s quick to pull San close, feeling the other man shake, panicking. One of San’s hands fly to cup at his ear, the other one pressed tightly against the length of Wooyoung’s neck, and Wooyoung easily draws San into his arms and carries him outside, snagging his jacket amidst the chaos. And when San shifts closer, his body almost alarmingly hot to touch, mumbling about wanting Wooyoung to go home with him, clingy and sulky, a couple of suspicious thoughts rise in the back of his head.

“I don’t want you to leave me again.” San’s tiny and vulnerable voice makes Wooyoung’s chest tighten. He’s really clingy – more than the alpha has ever seen or witnessed San be – and Wooyoung tries to placate him by nuzzling the older man gently behind the ear, feeling a little out of his depth. San purrs, the sound rumbling in his chest, preening like a cat.

He expects Seonghwa’s phone call – he definitely should’ve texted the angel earlier, but he’d been focused on trying to help San calm down and reorient himself. He’s unable to suppress the shiver that runs down his body when San’s lips brush over his pulse, as he’s talking with Seonghwa, his breath barely hitching in his throat when San does it again. Before San can do it a third time, Wooyoung holds his head in place and San whines, sending a tingle of heat throughout his body. He does his best to force any of the inappropriate thoughts out of his head.

He’s pretty sure he knows what’s going on, but he’s going to need Yunho’s nose to confirm. And when he tucks his phone away, his thigh accidentally brushing up against San, the older man chokes out a stuttered apology, cheeks red when the alpha discovers that San is half hard. Heart thrumming in his chest, Wooyoung simply guides San forward, head whirling as he puts more pieces together. He doesn’t expect San to ask him to touch him, and when Wooyoung hesitantly rests his hands on San’s bare waist, he feels the older man shudder, letting out a soft puff of pleasure, relaxing into him.

San has to be on the brink of his heat. There’s no other explanation.

Wooyoung thinks back to the few months that he’d stayed with San, and recalls that the other man never showed signs of going into heat. Even with suppressors, heats usually came around every three to four months, but he doesn’t recall a single time that San had gone into heat. It was always possible that San had never had a heat, but then what was the reason San took heat suppressors for? They were ineffective until the first heat.

And then Yunho confirms that San’s starting his heat and San says he’s never had a heat before.

All the puzzle pieces have fallen into place. Yunho and Seonghwa’s eyes immediately dart over to Wooyoung. 

When San shakes his head, declining Yunho’s offer to help, mumbling that he only wants Wooyoung, the three of them know exactly what must’ve triggered San’s heat. A long sigh expels from Wooyoung’s lips.

Fuck.

He’d spent so much time trying to convince himself that none of this was real, that everything he’d seen and experienced were just delusions that his stupid brain was trying to convince him was real. But knowing now that he was the one who ended up triggering San’s heat – an indication that San not only trusted him full heartedly, but his emotions for Wooyoung ran deeper than just I really, really like you.

He loves you, Wooyoung.

San seems to take Wooyoung’s sigh for something else, because Wooyoung can feel the way San starts to curl up in his lap, trying to make himself smaller, the smell of something slightly burning hitting his nose, and Wooyoung leans forward, gently nosing beneath San’s jaw, in an attempt to soothe him. The other man shudders, sliding himself further into Wooyoung’s arms, soft pleas for Wooyoung to help, to make it stop leaving his lips.

Wooyoung doesn’t know what to do. He can smell the tendrils of arousal that’s slowly leaking from San’s body, the scent blocking patches not doing much when San’s pheromones have gotten significantly stronger in the past few minutes. He can tell that San’s fully hard at this point, little tremors running down his body as he tries to fight through the ache and heat that’s likely running up and down his body.

When Wooyoung leans back to try to fish his keys out of the varsity jacket pocket, San seems to take that as a rejection, because he panics, and when Wooyoung tries to pull him back San fights against him, tears leaking out of his eyes, panicked breaths leaving his lips.

It takes a bit of convincing and internal battling with himself, but eventually Wooyoung agrees to stay with San and help him through his heat. He’s not entirely certain how he’s going to react – he’s doing relatively well right now, but that’s also while San’s wearing his scent patches. Seonghwa and Yunho glance at him, worried. He’s not in a rut. It’s physically impossible for an alpha to have ruts so soon after one.

But he’s also never been in the presence of an omega in heat other than Yunho, and by that time, he and Mingi had been dating. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

It doesn’t help that San starts to squirm on his lap, practically grinding down onto Wooyoung, pert ass rubbing up against him, and Wooyoung grits his jaw, trying to shove down the arousal that threatens to creep up his spine. He’s only somewhat successful.

It’s even more difficult when Wooyoung gets San to the car, because now he’s trapped in an enclosed space that’s slowly being filled with San’s heat pheromones and arousal. He’s familiar enough with San’s body from the one time they had sex, and now he can smell the other man’s slick. 

Keep yourself together. Wooyoung tells himself, white-knuckling the steering wheel. He tries to focus on something else instead, like how he remembers the conversation he’d had with San about driving cars so many months ago – how he refused to get into an unfamiliar vehicle, and how difficult it was to get San to let him bring his own dumpster fire of a car over. He does remember the look of disdain that San had initially given the beat-up vehicle.

“I’m sorry.” San whimpers. Wooyoung can feel San’s eyes roaming over his body, and bites the inside of his cheek.

“It’s not your fault.” Wooyoung glances over at San, who’s peering up at him from over the collar of the jacket, eyes wide. “You can’t help what your body does-” He’s still trying to deny it.

“It is. It’s because I couldn’t help myself and that I’m selfish and I’ve fallen in love with you and my omega’s decided to entrust you with our life.” San interrupts. He looks miserable. Wooyoung doesn’t know if it’s because of his heat, or because of what triggered his heat. Wooyoung’s brain tells him it’s the latter.

Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything, collects himself until he feels sane enough to start the car. The drive back is easier than he expected it to be, too caught up in his own thoughts to be distracted by San’s heat scent. He’s read that pheromones – alpha pheromones specifically (and as Yunho said) – are supposed to help calm those in heat down. He’s never let anyone outside of his family scent him, and even then, he’s skittish about it.

But he remembers the couple of times that San had asked him if he could scent the alpha, brow furrowed, eyes wide and pleading. He casts a glance over at San, who looks so out of it, and he feels some sensation of guilt well up inside of him. It’s only when he parks the car and unbuckles his seatbelt that he comes to his decision.

“San.” He says, quietly, moving his seat back. 

San, who’s just managed to unbuckle his seatbelt, turns to look at Wooyoung with a furrowed brow. Wooyoung beckons him over. San’s a little clumsy – endearing – as he climbs over the console and settles himself down tentatively in Wooyoung’s lap. Even though he’s inhibited by his heat, he seems to be pretty aware of himself, and Wooyoung wonders if San’s trying to put the alpha’s comfort over his own, which makes his heart hurt.

Wooyoung draws San a little closer by the waist, the other man’s skin searing hot to the touch, and he hears San’s breath hitch. Wooyoung hesitates.

Reel it in before I throw you in a real forest fire to burn those glands away for good.

Your pheromones gave me an anxiety attack. Can you keep them in check?

You smell like a forest fire. It’s not great, to be honest.

Let other people know that you smell like a goddamn forest fire?

It’s all or nothing at this point. If it goes wrong, then Wooyoung will deal with that later. Right now, he can only hope that San was being genuine.

“Come here, baby.” The pet name slips out, but San doesn’t seem to care, because as soon as Wooyoung guides him down, he’s hungrily inhaling Wooyoung’s scent, nuzzling into the glands. For once, Wooyoung doesn’t feel the urge to run away or claw at his glands. It feels nice.

San’s gentle – and greedy – as he noses at Wooyoung’s glands, lips brushing over his skin. When Wooyoung feels the tentative swipe of a tongue against his skin, a shudder runs through his body, heat pooling in his stomach, and he lets his head drop to the side to grant San more access. And San eagerly takes that permission, licking, tongue hot and warm, teeth just barely grazing over his skin, and Wooyoung’s hands drop down to the other man’s stupidly tiny waist, squeezing. San’s hips buck forward, muffling a soft moan against Wooyoung’s skin.

San gets upset when Wooyoung reiterates that he won’t do anything, and Wooyoung has to explain to him, soft and comforting, that he regrets the way that their first time happened. By no means does Wooyoung regret having sex with San – but he does regret the way that they had started and left things. He doesn’t want the second time with San to be when the other man is inhibited by heat.

Eventually, Wooyoung ends up scenting San too, the smell of vanilla and sugar cookies invading his senses, pleasant and sweet, trying to cover up a bit of San’s heat smell before he can bring them up to the penthouse.

He’s honestly surprised at the amount of self-control he’s able to practice. It’s a tempting offer, to have a naked and wanting – and writhing – San in his lap, begging him to touch him, to do something, anything. San is gorgeous, and Wooyoung knows that pretty much anyone would jump at this opportunity. The idea of that sends a hot flash of what feels like possessiveness through his body. But all Wooyoung can do – all that Wooyoung allows himself to do – is to nuzzle beneath San’s jaw, scenting him and to occasionally help San pull his limbs back so he can pleasure himself properly.

Wooyoung doesn’t think that he’s ever been this hard in his life, his body reacting to the pheromones that San’s body is steadily leaking, the arousal that curls in the air, the smell of slick that reaches his nose, the wet squelches as San fucks into his fist, fingers pressing into his ass, the soft moans and pants that leave San’s lips as he brings himself to orgasm after orgasm.

But he holds strong, murmuring soft praises in San’s ear that has the other man shuddering beneath him, promising that it’ll be all over soon, and that maybe another time he’ll indulge San in his desires.

“Don’t ask.” Wooyoung sighs, as soon as he gets back to the mansion and Chan greets him with a shit-eating grin. He’d taken a shower about an hour before San had woken up, but he’s pretty sure that he still smells quite strongly of San’s pheromones. It makes a part of him, deep inside, grumble that another person’s smelling it.

“Did things work out, at least?” Chan asks. Wooyoung pauses.

Have they?

Things are still sort of up in the air. San’s made it pretty clear where he stands with his feelings. It’s mostly up to Wooyoung now, and Wooyoung is still trying to get himself to understand and acknowledge that he also deserves good things.

“I think so.” Wooyoung admits, quietly. “I’m still… struggling with accepting it myself, but I want to make him happy, and he makes me happy, so that’s enough for me.” Chan’s grin is bright like the sun.

They text back and forth, and they go on what Wooyoung’s pretty sure are dates. San’s sweet and adoring – a little awkward, but he clings to Wooyoung and nuzzles him and showers him with affection, determined to show the younger man that he’s serious about his emotions. It gets a little overwhelming for Wooyoung at times, but he’s learning.

When San gets his second heat and Wooyoung gets several text messages full of typos from the other man, he also gets a call from Seonghwa detailing what went down. Because Wooyoung’s busy with helping Felix track down his next target – he’s in Busan, not Seoul – has Seonghwa go to the mansion, with the permission of Felix, and to fill a duffel bag of his clothes to help San through his second heat. He worries a little bit, but he has to force San out of his mind when they end up confronted and surrounded by an enemy group.

During the convention in April, the air feels malicious before they can even step foot into the building. Felix instructs all of his men to never go off alone, and that unless something major happened with the group they were after – another powerful underground group run by a man named Ni-Ki – no one was to start a fight. Wooyoung and Chan keep close to Felix, eyes sweeping over the ballroom.

The energy feels familiar, and Wooyoung tells Felix and Chan so. Felix asks what Wooyoung means by that, and the bodyguard hesitates briefly.

“Demons.” He says. His eyes flick around the ballroom, automatically seeking out San and Seonghwa. He’s been in enough fights with them, he’s hunted enough of them down – he’s been hunted down by enough of them – to know what their aura is like. He’s pretty certain that Seonghwa knows, too. Hongjoong too, if the demon is here.

“We’ll be on high alert.” Felix nods. “I’m assuming they’re only going to be going after a certain target?”

“Yes.” Wooyoung says, apprehensive. Felix drums his fingers on his upper arm.

“Then if they attack, do not worry about me. Find your person, alright?” Felix smiles. Wooyoung blinks at that.

“Are you certain?” Wooyoung hesitates. He’s bound, by contract, to protect Felix. Seonghwa can hold his own, he knows that for sure.

“Chan can protect me.” Felix pats Chan on the bicep, and the older man preens, proud at the praise.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” Wooyoung says, huffing out an amused breath.

He catches glimpses of San and Seonghwa throughout the night, and glimpses of Hongjoong as well. San catches his eye a couple times, and Wooyoung knows immediately that the other man feels the malicious energy in the air, because he looks anxious – skittish. The conversation with Ni-Ki goes well, and he and Felix seal their contract. The younger boss departs soon after, and Felix watches him go, a little amused.

“He really just came here for what he needed and left.” Chan comments.

“I admire the drive.” Wooyoung drawls.

It’s not much longer before the walls and windows are exploding as demons burst through. People scream. Wooyoung’s instincts immediately kick in, and Chan’s already transformed, lunging to tackle the biggest demon head-on.

“Let’s move!” Wooyoung shouts, grabbing Felix by the wrist and yanking him out of the path of a demon. Those who are unlucky enough to not move fast enough get torn through like they were made of paper. Wooyoung’s stomach churns as fuzzy memories of the training camp resurface.

“What the hell are those?” Felix asks, eyes wide as he takes in the feral demons rampaging – heading in one direction. Wooyoung’s breath hitches.

“Feral demons.” Wooyoung says, eyes locked on a flash of brilliant white light. Seonghwa, probably. “I know you’re well-versed and one hell of a good fighter, but if you’ve never fought a demon before, now is not a good time to learn. They’re here to collect a payment of some sorts, and they have no problems killing anyone who manages to get in their way.”

“And I can trust that you’ll be safe out there?” Felix rests a hand on Wooyoung’s upper arm. Wooyoung looks over at the freckled young man, tension bleeding out just a little bit at the look of pure concern on Felix’s face.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Wooyoung tells him softly. 

“Whatever happens, if I’m not in the area, text me so I know you’re okay.” Felix says.

“I will.” Wooyoung nods. Felix nods at him, wry.

“Go get your man.” Felix teases him then, lips turning up into a small smile. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, and slips through the chaos, following the sound of snarling demons.

He catches sight of Seonghwa, Hongjoong and his older brother, back to back in a protective triangle, and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees that San’s in the center of them, cowering on the ground. Then he hears a low growl and turns around just in time to meet a demon – this one burly and massive – head on. 

It knocks him to the ground, and Wooyoung grits his teeth, unable to get to the blade at the bottom of his boot. The demon is snarling at him, claws digging into his arms, and Wooyoung keeps it at bay, grimacing in pain. He’s able to flip out the switchblade hidden in his sleeve and stabs it into the side of the demon’s neck, in the soft spot where the scales and tough skin melt away into tender flesh. The demon screeches, and suddenly it’s pushing against Wooyoung with much more strength than he anticipated it to.

He flinches when jaws snap at his throat and he shoves his arm more firmly into the demon’s throat, shoving the knife in deeper. Wooyoung hears a sudden shout from Seonghwa, yelling at San to get back, and with a sinking feeling, Wooyoung risks glancing over to find that San’s somehow broken free from the protective triangle of the two demons and angel.

Panic and rage floods through Wooyoung’s body, and he’s able to reach up, wrenching the knife free from the demon’s neck to plunge it into the demon’s throat, forcing its head to roll off with a disgusting snap. Once the demon is dead, Wooyoung scrambles to his feet, darting over to where San’s collapsed on the ground, shaking, clutching at his head.

Seonghwa nods at him when he sees Wooyoung approaching, casting a spell over them to keep them both protected. When he grabs at San, the other man instantly fights him, but as soon as he can tuck San’s head in the crook of his neck, he feels San slump, a soft whine of relief leaving his lips. Wooyoung can smell the fear rolling off of San in waves.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Wooyoung hisses, the rage pulsing through his veins more directed towards himself. San probably saw him struggling with the demon and reacted on instinct. “That was fucking reckless.” He’s also terrified, because San could’ve been killed in the blink of an eye. San cowers in Wooyoung’s grip, and he feels the anger in his body seep out.

“I’m sorry.” San whimpers, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“I can take care of myself, Sannie.” Wooyoung tells him softly. The nickname seems to have a soothing effect on San, because the other man melts into his touch, shuddering as he tucks himself closer. “Don’t put yourself in danger for me. You’re going to give Hwa an aneurysm.” Wooyoung’s pretty sure Seonghwa will chew San out for his recklessness later on.

He honestly doesn’t expect the way the rest of the night goes. They discover that most of San’s misery was due to a deal with the devil that his sister had made in exchange for her soul, and she’d been avoiding the payment for well over ten years. A well deserved fate, Wooyoung thinks grimly, as the biggest demon practically tears Haneul’s soul from her body.

Felix tells Wooyoung that he doesn’t owe him any more time, though he’s absolutely free to keep working for him if he so wishes. When Wooyoung asks the freckled man why he’s suddenly decided that Wooyoung doesn’t have to work for him anymore, Felix ponders the question for a few moments. His eyes flick over to San as he waits, who’s still hidden beneath Seonghwa’s protective bubble, sealing all noise out. The other man, as if sensing his eyes, peers up at him, and Wooyoung tries to offer San what he hopes to be a comforting smile.

“I honestly wanted to get a good judgment of your character.” Felix says. “I wanted to see if there was a reason that Woojin and his gang were gunning after you and I was unsurprised to discover that it was just greed.” Felix speaks finally, strokes Chan on the snout contemplatively. “I’d like it if we could run over some of the details that had happened tonight, but other than that, you’re welcome to do whatever you’d like, whether that be continue working for me or find something else.”

Wooyoung blinks. Felix smiles at him softly, reaching out to rub a gentle hand over Wooyoung’s arm.

“You’re an amazing person, Wooyoung. You work hard, and you’re honest. I think you deserve a lot of good things.” Felix says softly. “I want you to be free, Wooyoung.” 

Wooyoung sort of wants to cry. And for once, that stupid little voice isn’t there in the back of his head.

There’s someone staring at the two of them. Or rather, glaring. Wooyoung resists the urge to roll his eyes, and both he and Felix look over to find that San’s staring right at them, eyes locked on the way that Felix’s hand is resting on Wooyoung’s arm. He really does look like an angry cat. Wooyoung huffs out a breath and Felix snorts, lifting both of his hands up in surrender, exaggeratedly stepping away from Wooyoung to throw himself over Chan’s snout, who makes a pleased rumble in response.

“Thank you, Felix.” Wooyoung says, softly. 

Felix simply smiles at him. Wooyoung pads over to San, who looks less like a bristling, prickly cat now that Wooyoung’s attention is on him. Cute. He holds out his hand to San, patient, knowing that San still might need a little more time. But San takes his hand and easily just nuzzles right into Wooyoung, curling into him.

And then Bumjoong tells them that he’s pretty sure their souls have imprinted on each other – soulmates, or whatever. It sort of explains why Wooyoung always felt some sort of pull inside of him, drawing and coaxing him to get near to San even when he didn’t understand it. San melts into Wooyoung, a pleased purr leaving his lips, snuggling closer, nose tucked up against Wooyoung’s neck.

“Don’t worry about the rest of your duties for the next few days, Wooyoung.” Felix tells him with an amused smile. “As long as you’re back to report in a week, I have no trouble.” San makes a small hum in the back of his throat, smug, as if pleased that he got his way.

“You’re still such a little brat, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asks. San doesn’t even deny it, preening happily in his arms..

Wooyoung wakes up to the soft brush of fingers against his face. His eyes flutter open to find San is already staring at him, propped up on an elbow, eyes fond and admiring.

“Is something wrong?” Wooyoung asks, when San says nothing for several long moments.

“You’re really pretty.” San blurts. It seems like San still has no brain to mouth filter, and that he seems to be willing to let anything out this time. “Um. Do you remember what I said last night? Before I fell asleep?” Wooyoung nods at that. He remembers. The mumbled little I love you, genuine and soft, murmured against his collarbone. “What about you?”

San’s watching him with hope, eyes wide and rounded, fingers kneading anxiously at the pillows – Wooyoung doubts he’s aware of it – just like a cat. Wooyoung goes quiet for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. They’re surprisingly quiet for once, his head clearer, and the voice in the back of his head is softer, so he can shove all of his insecurities to the side. When he looks back at San, all he can feel is an overwhelming sensation of warmth and adoration. He tilts his head, letting his cheek brush up against San’s curled fingers, hearing the way the other man’s breath hitches, and lifts a hand to cup the side of San’s face. It warms.

“How could anyone not?” Wooyoung whispers. “Of course I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say.” 

Wooyoung’s nervous, throat a little tight. San’s cheeks get a little warmer, and he’s staring at Wooyoung with so much love that it flusters him just a little bit. Of course, San notices.

“Are you embarrassed?” San asks, tilting his head forward. 

Immediately, Wooyoung slaps a hand over San’s face to shove him away and San lets out a squawk, batting at Wooyoung’s hand, pouting. He climbs into Wooyoung’s lap, and Wooyoung’s hands drop to his hips, brushing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

When he eventually gathers up the courage to tell San a little bit more about his past, he’s not too surprised that he has to stop when San ends up bawling in his lap. San doesn’t even seem to realize he’s crying until Wooyoung stops and cups his face gingerly, and Wooyoung hates seeing anyone cry – it’s made him uncomfortable in the past. But right now, he feels his chest constrict, and he ends up peppering soft kisses all over San’s face until the other man is letting out soft, giggly hiccups that have Wooyoung’s heart warming.

He gets to go back to wrap things up with Felix with a weight lifted off his shoulders, a warm heart and a boyfriend who loves him dearly and taught Wooyoung how to love.