Work Text:
Hansol smells Seungkwan properly for the first time when he enters the bedroom.
Despite years of forcing his instincts into submission, part of him understands the mythos of waging wars over an omega. The overwhelming desire to kneel, to please, to appease—to covet, claim, protect—surges for a terrible moment as Hansol’s eyes adjust to the dark room.
The windows are shuttered and curtains are drawn, leaving no escape for any of Seungkwan’s heatscent to escape. Everything mixes together in hazy heat smelling of honeyed, candied fruit; a sticky sweet concoction that leaves juices dripping down one’s chin. Inhaling deeper, Hansol thinks he can smell a sprig of fresh mint and something floral.
It reminds Hansol of a classy orange liqueur. Something refreshing at first taste, but sweet and dangerous.
How fitting.
Seungkwan eyes Hansol from across the room, spread out on his bed with his orange locks in a terribly disarray. It complements the color of his cheeks nicely. If it were not for the telltale sweetening in his scent, Hansol would almost think Seungkwan uninterested.
Composed, in control, and cold as usual.
But his scent is bare; and it’s clear that Seungkwan wants Hansol.
The omega’s eyes track Hansol as the alpha makes his way into the room. His breath hitches almost imperceptibly as Hansol reaches out, running a hand along the edge of the bed. Trailing his fingers through the soft smooth sheets, not quite touching the nest, Hansol's every movement is followed, even anticipated by Seungkwan.
Despite having been the hunter, Hansol feels little more than prey at the dark gaze.
The rosy flush deepens across Seungkwan’s cheeks, burning red with the rising fever. Hansol leans forward, sitting on the edge of the bed before breaching the walls of Seungkwan’s nest. Hansol doesn’t have time to marvel at the softness of the fabric or that the omega let him in at all, instead leaning into the pull of his own instincts.
With a slow hand, Hansol reaches out to swipe a finger along Seungkwan’s lips. Exhaling lowly, almost inaudible even in the quiet of the room, Seungkwan’s eyelashes flutter and he sways into the touch.
“You’re burning up,” Hansol comments idly, “I would’ve come sooner.”
“It’s only just peaking now,” Seungkwan denies.
But the dilation of his pupils and quiet pants of his breath tell another story. Hot puffs of air against Hansol’s neck as he falls forward, melting at Hansol’s touch. The doctors in the family’s employment warned it would be a brutal heat in the aftermath of so long on suppressants.
Hansol tilts Seungkwan’s head up, meeting his eyes for a moment that stretches for an eternity. Then, he leans down to meet Seungkwan’s lips with his own; cupping the side of the omega’s face and relishing in the way his skin heats under his touch.
There are countless scars from knicks left from previous assassins trying their hand to best Seungkwan. None of the other assassins survived the encounter, none of them got to have Seungkwan the way Hansol does.
Weaving a hand into the coarse strands of hair at the nape of Seungkwan’s neck, Hansol heaves the omega closer to him, up and into his lap. Seungkwan moans at the contact and even through his pants, Hansol can feel how damp Seungkwan is for him.
The warm, sweet kiss turns filthy as Hansol tightens his grip in Seungkwan’s hair, rutting against him. The omega hisses quietly, wincing at the slight pain from the healing bruising on his lip and cheek, still recovering from their first encounter.
Hansol stills, pulling away and Seungkwan stares, “Aren’t you going to get on with it?”
He doesn’t need to ask Hansol twice.
“Condom, right?” Hansol asks with a sly smile as he starts to unbutton his shirt obligingly.
Seungkwan’s eyes flash, “Don’t you dare.”
A low thrill surges in Hansol’s stomach as he scents a further rush of Seungkwan’s slick. The knowledge that he caused that, that he’ll be fucking the most coveted prize in all of Seoul.
You’re a means to an end , Seungkwan had sniffed, I can’t trust anyone else to do it.
Hansol can’t wait to taste him, feel him. After weeks of anticipation and dancing around one another, never fully dropping their pretenses, Seungkwan will take Hansol fully. Take his knot, allow Hansol to breed him, stuff him full of his knot until he’s carrying pups.
The thought alone makes Hansol’s cock twitch in his pants.
As he unbuttons his pants, shoving the fabric aside and pulling himself out, Seungkwan eyes him a little warily. He’s still half sitting in Hansol’s lap and it would be so easy with how the omega is for Hansol to pin him down and fuck him. And they both know it.
Hansol’s morals may be twisted, but he’s not that twisted. Even former assassins have standards.
“You can still back out, we can nullify the contract,” Hansol offers.
Seungkwan’s hands travel up to Hansol’s neck, covering the alpha’s exposed scent gland, digging his nails into it while pulling Hansol down until their eyes meet, “If you back out now I’ll kill you on the spot.”
His eyes almost glow in the glow light and Hansol laughs, trailing a hand along Seungkwan’s shoulder. The silk of the robe is the highest quality, almost water in his hand and it takes no effort to let it slide off of Seungkwan’s shoulder, exposing his flushed skin.
Hansol leans forward, pressing a kiss there before following a trail up Seungkwan’s collarbone and neck. In the juncture of his collar and neck, Hansol bites at Seungkwan’s collar—mostly teasing—at the leather, testing its resistance.
Even if he could manage to break the collar, the fang caps covering his teeth prevent any mishaps of unwanted matings. The terms of that were explicit in the contract.
Wet biting kisses along the rest of Seungkwan’s neck leave his skin blooming purple, letting the bruising of his soul match his exterior. Each bite leaves Seungkwan letting out muffled whines and guttural noises in the back of his throat. If possible, he is even more lovely than their first meeting when he greeted Hansol with a gun to his head.
It leaves him more human, rather than the coveted mafia prince that all of Seoul wants. The very same mafia prince who saw Hansol and offered him a third option rather than kill or be killed: be kept.
“Are you going to take all day to knot me?” Seungkwan complains.
The heady flush to his face only continues to worsen and, as he unties the robe, Hansol is pleased to find that it travels all the way down to his chest. He runs his hands across Seungkwan’s pecs, marveling at the feel of the omega as he grinds upward lazily.
“We have your whole heat for me to knot you, let me enjoy myself first. Let me make you feel good,” Hansol murmurs.
Hansol takes Seungkwan’s nipple in between two fingers, gently rubbing it. Hansol raises an eyebrow at the squeak Seungkwan lets out before squeezing the bud, applying a little more pressure before letting go.
He leans down, almost teasing to take the nipple in his mouth, but with a cheeky grin just blows on it lightly.
“Hansol, be serious!” huffs Seungkwan but Hansol only smiles, flicking the tip of his tongue over the bud. He circles the outside of it, relishing in the way little shivers wrack Seungkwan’s frame at Hansol’s touch.
Seungkwan whimpers a little, almost a stifled moan, and Hansol commits himself further to his cause, taking Seungkwan’s nipple into his mouth fully. He needs to see how far he can push Seungkwan to the brink, how he can make his mafia prince melt under his touch.
With his lips around Seungkwan’s nipple, Hansol lets his teeth lightly scrape the sensitive skin. Holding himself back he bites gently, humming as Seungkwan lets out a breathy gasp. It’s all he can do to tease and test the limits of Seungkwan’s patience. For a moment he thinks about when Seungkwan will be pregnant, if his nipples will be even more sensitive.
He can’t wait.
Pushing Seungkwan off his lap and flipping him onto his front, Hansol presses him down against the fabric of the nest. Seungkwan snarls, but Hansol pays it little mind and lets his fingers trail down lower, exploring along Seungkwan’s hole. Circling the outer rim with a singular finger before letting a single finger slip inside and meeting the rush of slick that greets him.
“Oh, you’re so wet for me already, Seungkwan-ah,” he says.
“ Hurry up ,” begs Seungkwan and Hansol inserts another finger.
Working into Seungkwan, opening him up; he’s almost slick enough that he could take a knot now, but where’s the fun in that? Fulfilling the means of the contract doesn’t mean it has to be unsatisfying for Seungkwan.
The rumors in Seoul’s underground whisper that Seungkwan has never really been fucked. That he would never give up that amount of control to let himself be so vulnerable.
But here he is, spread out on his front and aching for Hansol. Presenting himself as much as the omega would ever deign to, Hansol grinds slowly against Seungkwan letting his cock rut up against him. Seungkwan keens low in the back of his throat, pushing against Hansol for any form of friction.
Already he sounds have punched out just from Hansol’s fingers. Resting his forehead on his arm, Seungkwan braces himself against his headboard, pushing hard against Hansol even when the alpha barely moves.
Pulling his fingers out—even with Seungkwan’s frustrated whine—Hansol tastes the slick, rubbing his fingers together.
“Well, who knew you were hiding such a sweet scent when you have such a foul mouth?” Hansol teases and Seungkwan snarls again.
“I should’ve just killed you, you’re taking all day to fucking move ,” Seungkwan says.
Hansol flips Seungkwan onto his back, pushing his legs up before pressing inside with one thrust. His mind whites out as the warm heat envelopes him. Every ounce of self control he has prevents Hansol from fucking Seungkwan senseless before he’s even hit home.
“Move, Alpha. Move,” orders Seungkwan. Bossy and demanding, but easily placated with the first slide of Hansol’s cock and the feel of their lips meeting once for a hesitant, then a heated kiss.
Kissing wasn’t listed on the contract as a no-go, and Seungkwan has let Hansol kiss him twice so it’s probably fine. It’s not unallowed, just unconventional for a contractual baby daddy to kiss his baby mama. But when has any of this arrangement been conventional?
Seungkwan trembles as he takes Hansol impossibly deeper. The slick slide of his cock in and out of his hole is not nearly as obscene as the noises the omega lets out. Seungkwan whines and another gush of slick greets Hansol’s dick, even as the swell as the base starts to catch on Seungkwan’s walls.
Hansol will never get enough of this. The chances of spending Seungkwan’s heat together and having him not end up pregnant are slim to none, but he would live in his omega’s slick heat if he could. He would happily spend an eternity with his darling prince impaled on his knot, smelling ripe and bred for his alpha.
All of his senses are hyper-focused on Seungkwan.
His hips slam hard into the omega, relishing each moan and cry, committing it to memory. Sees the delicate red flush across the smooth expanse of his skin, loving the sight of his cock in his omega. Seungkwan’s breath catches, breaking on a moan as he feels Hansol’s knot start to swell to full size.
Despite all of Hansol’s training, it’s Seungkwan who notices anything is wrong first.
His face scrunches up once, nose wrinkling and he whines, scent spiking in displeasure. His sweet oranges start to turn sour, then almost rotting. Hansol rumbles a little, concerned and fucking him harder as Seungkwan buries himself deeper into his nest.
“Alpha,” Seungkwan gasps, fighting to get deeper into Hansol’s hold.
Hansol hisses under his breath, trying to scent Seungkwan to calm him down. He reeks of displeasure, an undercurrent of fear and agitation. The omega jerks, pulling hard on Hansol’s sensitive forming knot. Seungkwan sits up, pulling Hansol taut against him, glaring at something behind Hansol’s shoulder.
His claws extend and bares his teeth with his fangs on display as he snarls, “ Get out of my nest .”
Even with a lapful of omega, tied together on Hansol’s rapidly swelling knot, Hansol’s own instincts kick in hard. The strange, unwanted scent hits him like a freight train; something greasy and foul.
A challenge . Something in him purrs in delight, ready to demonstrate himself as a capable alpha for his omega.
Seungkwan is at his most vulnerable and it sends Hansol hurtling into his own alpha hindbrain.
Without turning his head fully from his omega, Hansol continues to grind his knot into the omega. He coaxes Seungkwan down onto his back once more, pressing them against the mattress in missionary form. Yet his other hand trails along the mattress, searching between the mattress and the box spring for— there.
His hand closes around the hilt of the knife as he leans forward, meeting Seungkwan’s lips. Despite the danger, his hips still cant into Seungkwan’s warm, welcoming heat as they kiss. It’s an open mouthed kiss that the omega moans into, letting his head fall back as Hansol kiss up his neck.
Good, perfect, gorgeous omega. Alpha will be so good for you. Protect you. Kill for you.
There’s no click of a gun, the air isn’t scented with the tang of steel of any knife other than Hansol’s, and he knows the cock-sure intruder is going to rely on strangulation. Any assassin worth their salt knows that handprints are far too telling if you don’t want to be caught.
A firm, gloved hand hooks around Hansol’s throat, forcing him away from Seungkwan. The omega winces, hissing in pain with Hansol’s knot skill swelling deep in him.
Seungkwan, so omega, so deep into his instincts in a way that he usually wouldn’t, snarls loudly, but Hansol soothes him with a low rumble. The gloved hand tightens around his throat, moving to get better leverage in the crook of his arm.
Hansol’s all instinct, his own fangs large and annoying in his mouth with the cumbersome fang caps. He can’t rip them out without the anti-bond or he will risk ripping his fangs out of his mouth. Still, the would-be assassin should know better than to get between an alpha and their omega.
Hansol bites down hard, digging his teeth and free hand as hard as he can into the foul flesh despite his fang caps. The distraction works as intended; in the next beat Hansol’s knife flashes as it digs into the intruder’s forearm, cutting through the muscle and sinew.
The man howls in pain, grip slackening fully on Hansol.
Which is all the opening he needs.
Careful not to jostle Seungkwan too much, Hansol digs his nails into the wound and pulls the alpha closer, throwing him over his shoulder and onto the bed. His trusty knife in hand, he flips the blade once, then twice as it sings with the promise of a kill.
The offending, intruding alpha is clearly outclassed by Hansol’s own knowledge and skill. It’s no wonder Seungkwan has to hire an assassin to fuck him when clearly his own guard is either incompetent or traitorous enough to leave him unprotected.
And this rat had the audacity to interrupt Hansol breeding his omega, trying to kill the mafia prince at his most vulnerable. He doesn’t even deserve to be killed by Hansol’s knife, not with the scent of sour, rotting oranges staining the air.
Hansol lets his own claws extend, slashing through the man’s jugular. The sticky spray of blood covers both him and Seungkwan, but Hansol pays it little mind.
He shoves the body off and leans down, kissing the blood off the corner of Seungkwan’s mouth.
“Alpha,” Seungkwan sobs brokenly, clawing at Hansol’s shoulder and upper back. He leaves sharp stinging lines as his nails drag through the skin, a memory of his touch for Hansol to have later. “Alpha, please .”
He grinds down harder onto Hansol’s knot, the added friction and pressure forcing him over the peak to spill into Seungkwan. Seungkwan wails, pulling Hansol closer, pants heavy and warm as he rubs his face into Hansol’s scent gland.
“Alpha—Hansol—you killed for me,” Seungkwan says, eyes wild, talking in punched out gasps as Hansol fucks into him.
“I swore to you I would,” Hansol promises.
There’s a teasing gentle sting as Seungkwan laves his tongue over Hansol’s scent gland, letting his teeth meet the sensitive skin. He radiates heat like a furnace, heat fever coursing through him, even despite how he continues to work his hips down in slow rhythmic circles on Hansol’s knot.
It happens in a split second.
One moment Seungkwan is kissing the skin, the next there’s searing pain. Hansol groans low hips stuttering as Seungkwan bites down until the skin breaks, the pain slowly morphing into pleasure that boils Hansol from the inside out.
His knot hurts , cock still twitching inside Seungkwan.
Seungkwan purrs, kissing the mark as Hansol breathes through the endorphins. He pulls apart, eyes low and flickering dangerously as he surveys his work. His scent comes off in happy waves, smelling for the world like a content and bred omega. Bred by Hansol . “My good alpha.”
“Yours,” Hansol chokes out. “All yours.”