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Hyunjin’s whiny tone cuts Felix out of his thoughts.
“Sorry.” Felix blinks. He’s been tying his sneakers for the past five minutes.
“Guess you didn’t hear a single thing I just said,” Hyunjin sighs, “I promise you’re going to do great. Minho picked you for a reason, and you’ve been killing it at practice.”
Felix knows that on an intellectual level, Hyunjin is right. He usually is. Just like how he’s usually the center of attention, too, because he’s the most gorgeous omega that’s ever sashayed across campus. He’s the most desirable young omega in the city by a long shot, so radiant that people even pay attention to Felix for just being around Hyunjin.
Starring cheerleaders are the Hwang Hyunjins of the world. Today's the homecoming baseball game, and they'll be presenting at the halftime show, ringing in the start of a new school year, it's their most watched performance. It’s an injustice, really, that Hyunjin isn’t the top of the pyramid for their routine today. It’s even more of an injustice that Felix is the apex instead. Felix who is rightfully invisible, not just because he looks and smells unremarkable, but because he’s insignificant.
Because he's unpresented, which means he isn’t much of anything.
Felix had been tested as an omega when he was born, and he’d spent his entire adolescence waiting to present. His test results were what he had clung to as he finished puberty with a voice deeper than any alpha he’d known and much, much deeper than an omega’s should be.
He'd finished high school unpresented, and he’d resolved to act like the best omega there ever was, and maybe people would forget he didn’t smell or sound like one if he made himself behave enough like one. He’d prayed, he’d read the etiquette books they made fun of on Buzzfeed, he'd dieted for years to lose his boyish roundess.
He covered up his blemished skin, evidence of a childhood spent carelessly and cocksure that he would one day blossom into an omega. He learned to speak with a pitched voice—or not to speak much at all.
Then, his first year of university passed without a single hormonal hitch. The only attention he ever managed to get for his looks quickly dwindled when alphas smelled him and realized he had nothing to give, and it very quickly turned sour once they heard him speak.
It’s a long shot, a dream within a dream, that someone would see him do the routine, standing tall at the top of the pyramid and they would fall in love with him from a distance—an anonymous secret admirer who would never get close enough to know how that all the nothingness that made up Felix Lee.
Hyunjin is still looking at him, head tilted in confusion.
“Yeah.” Felix nods, hoping that verbalizing his agreement would make it real, “Yeah you’re right.”
“Naturally.” Hyunjin huffs and tosses his hair, sending a wave of smell towards an alpha getting dressed behind him. The alpha drops what he’s holding and does a double take. Felix is reasonably sure he starts drooling. “If you doubt Minho again, he’ll cook you. He’ll put you in his cast iron, like a cookie cake.”
“Because the airfryer is yours.” Felix can’t help but smile.
“Damn right.” Hyunjin blows him a kiss.
The alpha from earlier collects himself and approaches them. He makes no effort to hide the way his eyes rake over Hyunjin’s body, and Hyunjin stretches in response with nonchalance, exposing a sliver of skin where his skirt and shirt don’t quite meet. “Hwang Hyunjin.” The alpha drawls. “You smell particularly good today.”
“Only today?” Hyunjin feigns offence. No matter how much attention Hyunjin attracts, he always seems to be eager for more. Felix tries not to resent him for it. He doesn’t succeed, and hates himself because it’s not Hyunjin’s fault.
The alpha blinks before his face breaks out into an amused smile. “I misspoke, you just have this effect on me.”
“You say that to every omega?” Hyunjin giggles. Felix bites his lip and stares at his shoes. Maybe he should tie them again.
“Only omegas as pretty as you.” He grins, “So just you.”
“Flatterer.” Hyunjin bats his eyelashes.
“I’m just telling the truth. I gotta go, can’t wait to see you out on the field.” The alpha turns his head and gives Felix a curt nod. “You too, Felix.”
Felix wants to burn himself alive for the way he sits up a little straighter to soak up any of the ricocheted attention. The alpha doesn’t even look him in the eye. He leaves, and Hyunjin’s eye fluttering turn back into normal blinking.
“Come on, Lix, you look great. Your lip gloss is popping and your eyes are super sparkly, sure would be a shame to waste it when we’re late and Minho boils you alive in his witch cauldron.”
Felix scoffs, but stands and smooths a hand over his skirt. It’s going to be his first performance in a skirt. He’d worn shorts all of last year along with the rest of the team as a show of solidarity after Minho finally got the school to approve of adding shorts to their uniforms. He really likes wearing the skirt, it makes him feel more like an omega. “Ok, yeah. Thanks, Jinnie.”
“Of course.” Hyunjin hooks Felix’s pinkie into his and they walk out onto the field.
The stifling late summer heat hits Felix like a warm, wet blanket. It’s one of those awful late summer heat waves, with heat and humidity ramping up for days before a storm breaks the atmospheric fever. One of those days where the sun cooks everything it touches and the shade isn’t much better.
The second Minho spots them he breaks away from the rest of the squad, walking towards them with a shout. “Hwang Hyunjin! You are seven minutes late.” Hyunjin quickly ducks behind Felix, as if the shorter boy can hide him. “If you were making eyes at alphas in the locker room again, I’ll confiscate your kneecaps.”
Hyunjin chokes around his explanation and pulls his Felix-shield tighter.
Lee Minho, captain of the cheer squad and the strongest person Felix knows, might be the only person on campus immune to Hyunjin’s charms. The beta exudes an easy confidence, commands quiet attention and steady respect with the way he carries himself and the grace with which he moves through life. If, God forbid, Felix fails to present as an omega, he would want to be like Minho, would die for just a fraction of Minho’s composure.
But Felix knows he’d make just as bad of a beta as he did an omega.
“Hyung, he was just helping me calm down.”
Minho meets Felix’s eyes and softens, pulling him out of Hyunjin’s grip and into a hug. “Felix-ah, we were just waiting for you. How are you holding up?” Minho’s hugs are usually so comforting, but today they make Felix feel like he’s shaped from melting plastic.
“Better.” Felix smiles weakly and pulls away. “Hyunjin was helping—” And then his gaze wanders past Minho’s shoulder and lands on the unmistakably broad figure of the captain of the baseball team. And the swim team. And editor of the school newspaper. And undergraduate student council president. And the unrequited great love of Felix’s life. Bang Chan, Chris.
His uniform is stretched taut across his shoulders, the top several buttons of his shirt left open from the heat. His dark hair, curling from the humidity, peeks out from underneath his cap. It’s gotten longer since the last time Felix had seen him, and he’d probably foregone styling it on account of the hat-wearing and the humidity. The sight of his rare curls makes Felix go weak.
If Felix were to categorize the alphas he’s met at university loosely into two groups they would be: ‘alphas who ignore me’ and ‘alphas who are civil to me to get an in with Hyunjin’. Bang Chan falls into none of those, because Bang Chan is always kind to everyone. And for some reason, Felix counts as someone to Chan.
He first met Chan through the school newspaper with no Hyunjin in sight, and Chan still remembered his name the next time they met, and the next. But knowing everyone is Chan’s thing, so Felix tries not to feel too good about that.
Still, on bad days, Felix thinks Chan might be the only person who sees him and sees Felix and not Hyunjin’s friend.
Felix knows it’s unfair to put all that on Chan, he'd just imprinted on Chan because they’re both Australian and Chan lets Felix call him Chris, and because of that one time—it was 12 times, Felix has each instance burned into his mind—Chan told him he had a nice voice. It’s also unfair to Hyunjin and Minho and the rest of the cheer squad who see him as a teammate and friend. That doesn’t stop Felix from developing a hopeless crush on Chan, but he’s definitely not the only one.
If Hwang Hyunjin is the school’s most desirable omega, Bang Chan is the school’s top alpha. Felix thinks they would make the world’s hottest couple, but he also knows Chan is the type of guy who truly doesn't care about secondary sexes.
Minho is proof of it. Minho had told Felix that he and Chan had a fling a few years ago and were just friends, but then Chan had tirelessly petitioned the school to allow Minho to incorporate shorts into cheer uniforms for Minho. If Hyunjin and Chan could conquer the school, then Minho and Chan would conquer the world.
Chan notices him staring and meets his eyes. Felix chokes on his spit and does a pathetic little wave, consisting of him lifting his hand up to his chest and making it do an aborted impression of a dying fish.
Chan grins in response and fucking waves back, hand outstretched over his head, making his shirt ride up to reveal his abs. Felix feels like he’s going to fly and throw up at the same time. Even from this distance, Felix sees Chan’s dimples as he smiles and the crinkle of his kind eyes and—
Felix ducks his head and tears his gaze somewhere else—right into Minho’s all-knowing eyes.
“Riiiight.” Minho says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow and Felix feels two inches tall. He’d entirely forgotten that Minho and Hyunjin were there, and the fluttery feeling in his stomach sours when he realizes that Chan was probably waving at all of them. “You’ve got this, Bbokie. You’ll put on a good show for Chan-hyung.”
Felix feels his ears burn, he feels his everything burn. He really hopes he’s not that obvious. His crush on Chan is just a stupid, hopeless little thing. If his friends knew about it, their consideration for his delusional feelings would keep them from being happy with Chan.
“Okay.” He agrees, because that’s just what you do with Minho.
The cheer squad sits and watches the first half of the game. Felix is not making great progress at being less of a bundle of nerves. That, along with the feel of the approaching storm and all the fucking heat is making his head spin. Watching Chan do his leader baseball things isn’t helping him keep his head particularly screwed on either.
He wishes he was wearing a hat like the baseball team were, but it would ruin his hair and probably make him sweat more. He’s wearing too much foundation and sunscreen to darken his freckles any worse, but his skin still feels like it’s burning, peeling away and laying him out to dry.
He runs through the routine in his head to distract himself, going through the motions of it as he watches Chan pitch.
He plays back Hyunjin and Minho’s encouragements. They’ve been doing this routine for weeks now, and Felix has only fumbled once. It was during a practice that Chan had dropped in on, and his “Go Felix!” and tiny claps when Felix was standing at the top of the pyramid was enough to make him waver, stumble, and fall.
Right into Chan’s arms. Kind of. It was mostly his teammates at the bottom who were positioned to catch him, but Felix would never forget that Chan had sprinted over to help too.
And now Chan will be here, watching him. Felix feels his face get hot, feels the flush creeping down past his neckline where his foundation doesn’t cover. He goes to take a drink and he realizes that his bottle is empty. He frowns. They’d only been outside for an hour. “Jinnie, can I have some of your water?”
“Sure.” Hyunjin hands over the water. “Are you good? You’re kinda super red.”
“It’s just so hot today.” Felix grumbles, then takes a few gulps of the sun warmed water. It doesn’t really help.
“Aren’t you Australians supposed to be heat tolerant.” Hyunjin wrinkles his nose as water trickles out of the corner of Felix’s mouth. “God, you’re even sweatier than me.”
“I could never.” Felix scrunches his nose, “It’s just so humid today. Sydney never got this humid.”
“That’s because there’s a big storm coming.” Minho says, and smiles.
Their performance goes great, Felix assumes, judging by the joyful laughter he’s surrounded by. He doesn’t remember much aside from the rush of blood in his ears and the increasingly murky heat. The clouds had come in, angry and dark as their routine went on, and by the end, the sun was entirely blocked out.
“Shame it got dark.” Felix says. Despite the lack of sun, the day has gotten no cooler. In fact, it feels all the more suffocating and humid. The relief at having finished the halftime routine doesn’t alleviate any of the pressure either. If Chan’s team wins, and they probably will, they'll have their victory routine.
Hyunjin picks him up and does a spin. “Who needs the sun when we’ve got Lee Felix! It hid in shame because it couldn’t outshine you.”
“Actually I think it’s just going to rain.” Felix laughs.
“They’re tears of anguish at having been outshone!” Hyunjin hoots.
“You weren’t even watching, I was stepping on you.” Felix lets himself be hugged by more teammates. They all smell sweet and salt-sweat musky. He wonders if they’ve always been so touchy-feely.
“And it was my honour to be stepped on by you.” Hyunjin says, wagging his eyebrows. “You know who was watching though? Channie-hyung.”
Of course Chan was watching. He goes to all the cheer squad’s shows, even the ones that aren’t for the few sports he plays. He even goes to their cheer competitions. Felix has been told that Chan has started supporting them extra hard since last year, which was when Minho made captain.
Felix smiles and shakes his head, “Do you still have water left?”
“Yeah, back at the bench. Are you sure you’re okay?” Hyunjin looks at Felix strangely and places a hand on his forehead. “Well, I don’t think you have a fever.”
Felix swats lightly at Hyunjin’s hand, “Just thirsty, and sweaty. Kinda dizzy too, actually. All that adrenaline.” Felix blinks and he realizes the effort it suddenly takes to walk over to the bench. Hyunjin follows him, keeping a steady hand on his elbow. Usually it would be comforting, but today the point of contact just itches.
Felix drains the rest of Hyunjin’s water, but it does nothing to cool him down. He frowns. “I’m gonna go inside where there’s AC.”
The ozone smell of the incoming storm is overpowering. All the smells are; the sweaty cheerleaders and the baseball players and all the people in the stands. The humidity amplifies all of it, every drop of moisture keeping the volatile molecules suspended right in front of Felix’s face.
“I’ll come with.”
“No, it’s ok.” Felix smiles at where he thinks Hyunjin’s head is. When did he start seeing double? He really needs some water. “Come get me before we have to go for the finale, okay? Keep Minho-hyung from cooking me.”
“He’d never threaten his precious baby Bbokie.” Hyunjin snorts. He gives Felix one last squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?”
Felix kind of registers nodding before his vision warps and suddenly he’s standing in the locker room. It’s much cooler here, but the smell of a hundred sets of sweaty uniforms in stale lockers is grating.
He’s still feeling lightheaded from the heat, but he really wants to put a hoodie on. He feels weirdly cold on the inside, past his itchy skin. He manages to get his locker open from muscle memory and pulls out the old hoodie he’s got stashed away. It smells more like metal and the changing room than a human, but the traces of his familiar detergent helps.
Felix doesn’t realize he’s moved before he finds himself sitting on the floor, pressed up against the back wall, next to the captains’ special changing room. It’s a small privilege every team captain gets, private showers and bigger closet space. Two of the lockers have Bang Chan written on them.
Felix buries his nose in the hoodie and presses his flaming cheek to the cool wall. It’s the most comfortable he’s felt all day, huddled alone on the floor in this corner of a locker room. Much better than outside being watched. This is where he belongs.
The boom of thunder shakes him out of his headspace. He doesn’t get a chance to collect himself and find out how long he’d been out when the door to the locker room flies open and he’s slapped with the smell of wet earth, ozone and sweat. Soaked and reeking, the baseball team and the cheer squad file into the locker room.
“Jesus, what is that smell.” Felix hears someone say. A din of assenting mutters join him.
“I think someone got their brains fucked out in here just now.” Another person snickers, someone else hoots. Felix covers his face with the hoodie and shrinks on himself. Betas and people who haven’t presented have comparatively weak senses of smell. Felix thinks he’s been getting better at identifying smells lately since he’d started baking, but he still doesn’t smell anything out of the ordinary.
“Well, we do have half an hour to kill.” Felix recognizes Hyunjin’s voice. It’s breathy and high pitched now, and it fades into a giggle. Oh, they were smelling pheromones. It doesn’t mean anything to Felix, aside from knowing he should get the hell out of dodge before he’s trapped in an orgy.
Still, he can’t make himself get up from where he’s huddled. Hard as he tries, he only manages to press himself harder into the wall.
All too soon, the air is thick with moans and sighs. If anyone’s noticed Felix curled up on the ground, they haven’t said anything. Felix had thought he’d missed whatever it was that the others could smell, but there’s no way he could miss it now. All around him, wherever he turns, he can’t smell anything but the cloying burnt butter-and-sugar scent of lust.
He makes up his mind to get up and leave the locker room. But his legs shake and he barely manages to get to his knees when he feels it. Between his legs.
Slick. He thought he’d just been extra sweaty, but this—this. He brings a hand down to his inner thigh and runs a finger through the fluid, sticky and slippery at the same time. He’s dreamed of this moment. The reality of it, though, has Felix’s heart racing to flee rather than fuck.
“Dude. Smell him.” The roughness of the voice has Felix freezing, hand still touching his own slick. He hadn’t noticed the two approaching him. Both alphas, Felix can’t remember their names. He doesn’t even really see their faces, but he smells them strongly. Both are overwhelmingly spicy, every inhale sears the back of Felix’s throat. He shoves his hoodie over his nose again.
“Fuck, look at you. I was just thinking what a shame it was that the cute thing on the top of the pyramid wasn’t an omega.” The second alpha smacks his lips together. It sounds awful. He smells like whiskey and it hurts like shots when Felix breathes. “Our lucky day, I think he’s presenting, just in time for us.”
Felix shudders. “I—I’m—” Despite the rolling of his stomach when he smells them, the intense proximity of alpha pheromones causes another gush of slick to run out. Felix knows they can smell it, he sees their nostrils flare.
“Should we find someone?” The first, who tastes like too much cinnamon says.
“Minho.” Felix pants out. “P-Please.” He’s suddenly aware that the sting isn’t just in his nose, he feels something in his stomach, something deep in his hips.
“Aw shit, sweetheart. I think he’s a little preoccupied, it would be rude to interrupt.” Whiskey says and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. Felix looks over, where Minho is sitting on a bench with a lap full of an omega from the baseball team. Felix numbly recognizes him as Chris’s friend.
“We could keep you company instead.” Cinnamon drops to a knee in front of Felix. Felix backs away.
“It’ll really suck going through your first heat alone, I hear it’s painful, even.” Whiskey stalks behind Felix. His throat burns. His stomach burns. He wants to throw up.
But you don’t, Felix wants to shout. And he doesn’t even know why. All his life, he’s wanted to be wanted. But this is wrong and it hurts and he wants to cry.
So he does.
“Jesus.” Whiskey clicks his tongue. “Why’dya have to be so difficult? This is for your own good.”
“It’s dangerous out there.” Cinnamon closes in, “Lots of alphas who don’t have our control. And you smell so inviting.”
“I don’t—” Felix hiccups, “I’m not, I want—” He doesn’t let himself finish the thought. Even in his heat infected mind, he knows who he really wants. Who he can’t have.
The door slams open with a force that makes the lockers rattle. Everyone stops, because cutting through all the smells of slick and sweat is a vaguely familiar citrus and smoke smell, tinged with anger. There’s an alpha, he’s strong, and with that show of strength, everyone knows he’s pissed.
Felix doesn’t think he can handle any more alphas, especially not an angry one. He curls in on himself again, trying to get his breathing under control so at least his sobbing doesn’t make him suck up more pheromones. It’s all too much, he wants to be anywhere but here. Only he could he have fucked up presenting this bad.
“What the fuck is going on.” Chris. His tone is even, slow, but he never swears—he’s angry and they all know it. And it’s Felix’s fault.
He doesn’t have strength left to crawl away and hide, not that it would matter, he’s sure he reeks. Chan finds him anyways, and Felix is wrapped up in that sweet tangy citrus smell.
Chan smells so good, like he always does but a thousand times more. It makes the ache in his bones worse but better. He can’t help the gush of slick—his hot, wet shame.
Felix curls up tighter so he doesn’t have to see Chan’s face, but he can still picture it. Chan’s disappointed, angry eyes. The clench of his jaw and the hard line of his mouth as he stares down the omega who messed up his game and his team.
“Hyung—” Felix sobs out, “I’m sorry.”
Then the tension bleeds out of the room and the pressure drops.
Chan crouches down beside Felix, “Shh, it’s ok. It’s not your fault— never your fault. It’s my fault, I should have taught them better. We should have noticed you sooner.”
Felix looks up, Whiskey and Cinnamon have scampered off. Chan’s holding a rag under his nose, it’s filthy and reeks of motor oil and it’s tainting his clean citrus and smoke smell.
“I’m sorry.” Felix repeats over and over between shuddering hiccuping breaths, he doesn’t quite believe that Chan isn’t mad at him.
“It’s ok, Felix, it’s alright.” Chan repeats and pulls Felix into a one armed hug. Felix wrinkles his nose and swats at the stinking rag, it’s getting in the way of letting him breathe all of Chan in. It’s the closest he’s ever going to get to Chan and Felix looks like shit.
“Pl—please don’t look at me.” He hiccups. He knows he’s an ugly crier, and he’s definitely ruined his makeup.
“But I can finally see your freckles.” Chris says with a soft smile.
Felix is suddenly very grateful for his ribcage keeping his heart confined inside him.
“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” Chris pulls away and extends his hand.
“No—I can’t—it hurts.” Felix whimpers from the loss of touch. He fists his hands in his skirt to keep from grabbing at Chris, “Chris, it burns, make it stop, please.”
“I can’t do that.” Chris says, even and slow. “You’re not thinking straight, the hormones are clouding your mind.”
“They’re not!” Felix wails and Chris startles at the outburst. Felix knows he’s not being a very good omega right now, shouting at an alpha, but if he’s going to be rejected anyways he might as well. “I want this! I want you! Just you! No other alpha, ever. I want you.” He realizes, belatedly, that he’s been speaking English for a while now.
“Fuck, Lix, you can’t be saying that. Not with how good you smell.” Chris swallows, “I—I can’t be here, I’ll find Minho.”
“I smell—I smell good?” Felix blinks, his lust-rotten mind trying to figure something out. It feels like putting a square peg in a round hole. He wishes Chris would put his—
“You have no idea. Not just now, you smell good all the damn time.” Chris brushes Felix’s sweaty bangs out of his face with a hesitant hand. Felix leans in, wants to grab Chris’s hand and keep it pressed against his face for-fucking-ever. “Like warm honey glazed donuts and the ocean. Like Timtams and sunshine on fresh laundry.”
“Th—Then,” Felix says, frustrated, “Chris, please.”
“We can’t, you’re not thinking straight, and I won’t be for long either.”
And it’ll still be for too long. With a frustrated snarl, Felix tears the cloth from under Chris’s nose and throws it as far as he can. The second Chris takes a breath, Felix watches his iris disappear, swallowed by dark, hungry pupils.
“Felix.” Chris growls. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Felix feels a sudden burst of confidence—from speaking English, from the look Chris is giving him, dark and heavy, pupils blown wide, from feeling wanted back for the first time in his life. “I-If you don’t fuck me I-I’ll get another alpha who will.”
It doesn’t have the effect Felix was hoping for. Chris’s eyes narrow and he leans away. “You sure about that, little one? Were you trying to make me mad, talking like that?” He stays where he is, and where he is too far from Felix. “Wanted me to lose control and fuck my knot into you right here in front of everyone? You want them all to watch me make you my bitch?”
“Yes.” Felix whimpers and feels hot slick rush out of him. His hole twitches when he sees Chris’s nostrils flare. “Please, please.”
“You should know I’m better than that.” Chris’s voice drops pitch. “Go ahead, go pick another alpha.”
A sharp spike of pain shoots through Felix’s lower spine and he sobs. He doesn’t just need an alpha, he needs Chris. His hand shoots out to grab Chris’s shirt. “No! I want you, need you. Crawled here to smell you.” Felix sniffles, the heat burning away any shame he had left. “Just needed you. You’re the only one—the best alpha.”
And suddenly Chris is on him again, wrapping him up in strong arms and that smoked citrus smell. “If this is what you really want,” he says into Felix’s hair, “I don’t think I could deny you anything.”
“It is, goddammit.” Felix wails at this stupid, kind alpha.
Effortlessly, Chris stands up, holding Felix against him with one arm. Felix wraps his legs around Chris’s waist instinctively. Chris’s hand is shaking when he inserts the key into the lock and opens the door. Felix wishes Chris would insert his key into—
And then he’s being thrown on the couch.
Chris is standing at the door, a hand still on the doorknob. He has his nose pinched closed and his voice is nasally. “Are you still sure.”
The captains’ room is slightly insulated against the other smells, and it makes Felix feel more alert. It makes it easier to focus on just Chris. Suddenly, Felix realizes Chris got him in here to create a barrier between him and the pheromone bomb.
“Christopher Bang!” Felix shouts, he tears off his underwear and throws it at Chris. “Yes, I want it, and if you waste your tongue saying that instead of putting it in my mouth I am going to fucking bite it off.”
The moment the words leave Felix’s mouth, his face twists, horrified. He slaps a hand over his mouth and hugs his knees to his chest. He feels his nose burn anew and tears prickle the corner of his eyes and—fuck, he’s crying again. This time, not from the pain of heat, but from the embarrassment of what he’d just said. If ever there was a fuck up of an omega.
He doesn’t manage to apologize before his breath is swallowed by Chris’s lips on his. His next sob is cut off when Chris sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.
Chris pulls Felix into his lap, running his hands up and down Felix’s back, up to his neck, one hand teases through his hair. Felix is dizzy. This time, it’s a good dizzy.
“That was my first kiss.” Felix rasps and darts out a tongue to touch the bottom lip Chris was just sucking on.
“Was it good?”
Felix nods as emphatically as he can, “Yes. The best. You’re the best.”
Chris stares at him for a beat too long, like he’s suddenly actually seeing Felix, like he’s hesitating and reconsidering. Felix worries at his bottom lip, waiting for the rejection. Then, Chris reaches for Felix’s face, lightly and firmy brushes a thumb across his nose and cheekbones.
Chris’s eyes curve into crescents as he smiles, “Ah, there they are. Now you’re perfect.”
Felix doesn’t have words for that, not like his tongue can form them anyways. Instead, he throws his arms around Chris’s neck and presses their mouths back together. He feels Chris’s tongue slip into his mouth and he sucks on it, grazes his teeth against it. Chris groans and Felix feels the vibrations into his core. He cards his hands through Felix’s hair and presses their faces together deeper until Felix is squirming for breath.
Chris pulls away and yanks Felix’s hair back and mouths at his neck, sucking bruises into the skin that Felix will later pretend he forgot to cover. Like Chris can read his mind, he leans back and smirks, “Little slut wants to wear my marks? Wants to be paraded around that locker room with my teeth all over you?”
“Yes.” Felix gasps, trying to grind down, his hands flying to Chris’s hair. It’s still wet from the rain. With just his skirt on, Felix is leaking freely onto Chris’s pants. He’s two layers of thin cotton away from having Bang Chan in him. He didn’t think it was possible to be so mad at cloth. His hands scramble at Chris’s waistband, tugging at Chris’s shirt.
“Patience, little one.” Chris chuckles and peels off his shirt. Felix is rewarded with his abs and chest. He doesn’t get to eye them for long before he’s being kissed again. This time, Chris’s hands hold steady onto his hips, Felix doesn’t even get to grind down.
Chris pulls away for a maddening second as Felix gasps for air. Fuck those swimmers’ lungs.
He lifts the hem of Felix’s shirt up, and brings it to Felix’s mouth. “Hold it, my mouthy little omega.”
My. Felix keens at that, and obediently bites down on his shirt.
“Does this count as wasting my tongue too?” Chris presses and drags his tongue over Felix’s nipple. Felix lets out a strangled cry and twitches closer towards the wet friction. He wants to grind down so bad and Chris isn’t being fair because it still hurts and he’s just making it worse.
Chris’s hands, so much bigger than Felix’s, move under his skirt and down to Felix’s ass and start groping and kneading, pulling Felix’s cheeks apart. The cool air on his wet rim just reminds Felix what he really needs, and it isn’t kisses. He can’t even beg for it with his shirt in his mouth, so he pulls at Chris’s hair until he releases the nipple with a growl. Felix drops the shirt, “Please, please just fuck me already.”
Chris rips Felix’s shirt in half. Felix doesn’t even pause to think about the cost of replacing it, because his hips are suddenly free and Felix grinds down immediately on Chris’s cock. He can feel it, blunt and hot and hard against his hole. To no avail, he clenches arounds it and sends another burst of slick gushing out. Chris groans and sucks in deep breath through his nose.
Chris’s hands take their spot on Felix's hips again. “We do this at my pace.”
Felix whimpers but he nods, “Okay.”
“But you’re already gagging for it.” He growls into Felix’s neck, “Never knew you were such a filthy,” He holds Felix’s hips still and grinds upwards, “needy,” a thrust, “whore.” a thrust. It’s so much all at once, the words, the cooling saliva on his nipple, the blunt force against his hungry hole and—
Felix cums, cock twitching where it’s tented in his skirt.
“Wow.” Chris grins. “Already?”
“Fuck you.” Felix buries his face in the base of Chris’s neck, panting. “That was my first, dammit.” That bit of relief is a single, tiny snowflake, sublimating upon contact with the heat in his core. The burning ache is still there in his hips.
Felix cries out, “It still hurts.” More, now, if that was even possible. “Why, why does it hurt.”
“Hang on, baby.” Chris lays him down on the couch, and finally, finally takes his pants off. His cock springs free as he pulls his boxers off. “I guess you need a knot to end your heat.”
Felix throws his legs wide open, “Yes, a knot, please!”
“Can’t help yourself, can you, just need a knot that bad.” Chris says, “Just need any knot, don’t you.”
“Your knot, only your knot.” Felix moans as Chris slides a finger into him. There’s hardly any resistance. Felix clenches around it, hard, making sure Chris can’t take it away. He can’t feel empty ever again. He can’t have Chris be anywhere else again.
“They can all smell us out there, y’know, everyone knows you belong to the top alpha.” Two fingers now, and a steady hand still on his hips. Felix’s hands grasp at anything he can, anything as leverage to fuck himself on Chris’s fingers. It’s still not right. Chris isn’t looking at him.
“You, Chris. It’s you, I want you.”
“Just me?” A third finger. The hand on Felix’s hip tightens. Their eyes meet.
“Just you.” Just Chris and his citrus smoke scent and his kindness and dimples and how his hair curls under his cap. Just Chris. “I-I’m all yours” The second Felix chokes that out, he feels Chris pull his fingers out.
Felix is halfway through another whine before he feels all of Chris slide in.
“All mine.” He growls.
Everything clicks, and it feels right in the way square pegs fill into square holes, the way keys fit into locks. The way Chris fits into Felix.
The stretch of it knocks Felix’s breath out and his next words die in his mouth. He’s gasping for breath at how good and how right and how perfect Chris feels in him.
Chris thrusts, shallow and experimental, “And I’m going to knot you, and I’m going to breed you. Pump you full and watch it mix with your slick.”
Felix cries out, tries to form words, but he can barely even think. All that comes out is breathy half words that sound like yesyesyesyes. It’s not fair and it’s so hot all at the same time that Chris barely sounds affected and Felix has become an animal. Felix knows he’s close again, wants to ask Chris to slow down, he wants to cum together, but he just can’t.
“Can’t even speak now, is it that good?” Chris bottoms out and grinds into Felix. “Pity, I love your voice.”
And with that, Felix cums again. He arches his back and sobs, and in the aftermath of yet another unknotted orgasm he’s shaking and twitching with oversensitivity. The burn in his stomach feeling more intense than ever. His hand flies to scratch at the pit of his stomach, where it seems he’s swallowed hot coals washed down with Tabasco.
“H—h,” Is all Felix can stutter out between the breaths continuously getting fucked out of him. Chris takes Felix’s twitching hands gently into his own and he locks their fingers together.
“I know, little one. I’m almost there, you got another one in there for me?” Chris brings Felix’s hand up to his mouth, kisses it tenderly as Felix stops twitching. Felix squeezes Chris’s hand and nods. “Together next time, yeah?”
Whimpering, Felix nods. The energy that he had earlier dissipated, his body is limp and pliant. Chris’s hands are back on his hips, they’re pulling him back with a force that makes Felix’s spent cock twitch, he’s already half hard again.
“Greedy,” Chris takes Felix’s cock into his hand. He thumbs at the slit and Felix wants to squirm away, but he’s exhausted and boneless. Chris strokes Felix in time with his thrusts, and if it wasn’t for Chris’s bruising grip on his hips, Felix feels like he would vibrate out of his skin.
“Don’t get too tired, you can’t let your fans down,” Chris’s words are breathier, more strained, and Felix knows he’s close. “You still have a routine after this.”
Felix whines. He doesn’t want to go outside, doesn’t want to stand up every again. He wants to spend the rest of his life limp in Chris’s hold.
“You’ll have to get up on that pyramid with my seed and your slick leaking out your hole. They’ll know whose slutty omega just got fucked in the middle of the game.”
“Your’s.” Felix mutters, “Your omega. My alpha.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Chris pants as he cums.
Felix is too tired to scream. He sighs as the knot breaches his rim, the burn in his belly fading as it’s replaced by the burn of the stretch. It’s what finally does him in, his third orgasm somehow even more intense than the previous two. It’s his first true orgasm, with an alpha’s knot in him. With Chris’s knot him in. That’s Felix’s last thought, happy and satisfied and appreciative, before he grays out.
When he comes to, he’s held against Chris’s chest with his head on Chris’s shoulder and seated in his lap. Seated, being a generous term for currently impaled on Chris’s still inflated knot.
“Welcome back, little one.” Chris presses a litany of kisses to Felix’s cheeks and nose, and finally planting one on his lips. He looks up at Felix with soft eyes. Entirely different from the alpha that just knotted him, but entirely the same.
“If you ask me if that was good or if I’m still sure…” Felix rasps, his voice sounds really fucked up. Like he’s a 50 year old chainsmoker and he cringes internally at how unattractive that must be.
Chris raises an eyebrow. ““You’ll miss my tongue too much if you bite it off. I haven’t even shown you everything I can do with it.”
“I could make do without it. This, though,” Felix clenches around Chris’s cock, “I think I’ll keep.”
Chris groans in protest but gives into his laughter. “Oh, you think you will?”
“Considering it.” And Felix smiles into a kiss. “I’ve been wanting it since you told me you liked my voice. The very first time, at the paper. You probably don’t remember—”
“Of course I remember.” Chris interrupts, soft but firm. “You were asking someone if your Korean was good enough to write for the paper.”
“I didn’t think you ever noticed me. Just Hyunjin, or Minho.” Felix mutters into the crook of Chris’s neck.
“I always notice you first.” Chris strokes a hand through Felix’s hair, “Stopped messing around with Minho after I met you, actually.”
Felix shoves down the twinge of jealousy he feels at that. Idiot, you already knew they did that. He redirects his attention to the positives, like Chris’s hand currently in his hair and Chris’s knot currently in his ass. “So all the cheer practices and meets you went to—”
“I was always watching you. Minho had to tell me to hide after you almost fell.”
“I’m really glad I finally presented.” Felix mumbles into Chris’s neck. “Even if I’ll never be a good omega.”
Chris cups Felix’s face in his hands and looks him in the eye. It’s that Chris look, the one that made Felix believe he could write for the paper with his stilted Korean, the look that makes Felix believe, truly, that what just happened wasn’t a fever dream and he’s not passed out on the floor of the locker room. “It doesn’t matter what you presented as. I was going to ask you out after the game, y’know. I wanted to dedicate that victory to you.”
“Oh fuck.” Felix jolts up, they both wince when it disturbs the knot. “The game, the weather cleared up! You’re missing it!”
Chris laughs, “It’s probably done by now. It was as good as won anyways. I trust my team to at least play the game, if nothing else. They’ll be fine without me.”
“What happened to the Bang Chan that was all ‘I’m the top alpha’” Felix pitches his voice lower to mimic Chris.
Chris laughs, and he suddenly looks shy. “You sound ridiculous. Your voice is way lower than mine.”
“Whatever.” Felix pouts, and tries not to care.
“And,” Chris pauses, Felix feels him draw absentminded circles into his hip, “I don’t want to be the school’s top alpha.”
“No.” Felix says. “You’re just Chris, right?”
“Yeah, just Chris.” It’s Chris’s turn to nuzzle his face into Felix’s neck. “I’ll be your alpha though, if you’ll have me.”
“Oh.” Felix laughs, “Oh I’ll have you alright, Christopher Bang. I think I’ve just had you, and I’ll have you again in a few more minutes, and I’ll have you again tomorrow, and then a couple times next week. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He watches the tops of Chris’s ears redden. Felix kind of wants to suck on them.
“As if I'd ever want to be rid of you.”
“Not even if I swear a lot and my voice is deeper than yours?” Felix knows the answer by now, but he’ll probably always want to hear Chris say it himself.
Chris smiles and kisses across his collarbones. “Absolutely not, one of the agreements is going to be that you have to swear as much and as deeply as you can.”
“Okay.” Felix tugs Chris off his neck so he can kiss him. “How long do you think we have until my next wave? I should let Minho know where I am.”
“Oh.” Chris coughs, “Yeah, no. This room isn’t soundproof or scent proof, like, at all. They all know where we are.”
Despite the embarrassment he feels at Chris’s words, the thought of it makes Felix leak just a trickle of slick. He clenches around Chris’s still knotted cock.
Chris nips at his earlobe. “Insatiable, you minx.”
“Next wave can wait until I finish my Genshin dailies.”
Even now, weeks later, whispers follow Felix everywhere he goes. A room will fall silent when he walks in, people ogle him as he walks by. He’s become something of the stuff of campus urban legends.
He’s that cheerleader, the one who was at the top of the pyramid. The one who caused an orgy they say affected half of campus the first time he presented. The one that made Bang Chan drop everything and fight his way through the locker room to claim. At least one film major is considering writing a screenplay based on the rumors.
It’s definitely strange, the shift from being a ghost to center of attention. Felix feels like he’s breaking some law of the universe whenever someone he doesn’t know refers to him by name.
It’s an adjustment, and still a bit weird, but Felix doesn’t hate the attention. If he did, maybe he’d stop wearing Chris’s hoodies around campus, or he would at least stop going to Chris’s games freshly fucked and covered with bruises he totally forgot to hide.