Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

School pick-up was never a part of Beomgyu’s everyday routine. Not once had he concerned himself with the chaos of SUVs, honking minivans, and frenzied parents desperately waving their children down like air traffic controllers. That was, until his brother made the fateful request.

“Beomgyu, I need you to pick up Minji on Wednesdays.”

Wednesday afternoons were sacred, a brief solace in the middle of his otherwise aimless week. A time dedicated to the simple joys of life: gaming, strolling through the park, and occasionally, in very desperate moments, filling out job applications.

“I’ll pay you.”

That was all it really took, collecting his cashout with glee before agreeing.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Minji, she was one of the few bright constants in his life. He sat on her too-small plastic stools for elaborate tea parties, pinky out like the gentleman he was. He threw her into the pool until his arms ached, only to be met with an excited, “More!” His whole existence, though lacking direction, had always revolved around family.

Maybe it was the omega in him; nurturing, caretaking, quietly yearning for something more domestic. Not that it mattered. Beomgyu hadn’t dated in years, not for lack of people showing interest because, if anything, there was an overabundance of that, but because he refused to settle for anything less than a connection. Dating for the sake of it? Not his style.

So, when he pulled up to the school parking lot for the first time, idling against his car until the final bell rang, he wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary.

And then he saw him.

Tall — too tall, standing out amongst the sea of parents like an enormous lighthouse. Broad, too, his shoulders spanning wide beneath the crisp fabric of a button-down shirt that had Beomgyu almost avert his gaze from such a sensual sight. From his vantage point, he could make out flecks of silver threading through his dark hair, the telltale salt and pepper of a man who was probably too old for twenty-six year-old Beomgyu. His blazer was draped casually over one arm as he wiped the nape of his neck with the back of his large hand, and Beomgyu found himself mesmerized.

Turn around, stranger. Let me see you.

The bell rang, a jarring ding. And then, chaos. A stampede of children burst from the school doors, swarming the pavement. Beomgyu stood his ground, scanning the crowd for a small girl with a blunt bob and bangs that were admittedly a little too short.

He had given her that haircut himself just last week when she’d visited his apartment, insisting they play hairdresser. “Daddy never lets me cut my hair,” she’d pout. And, as the indulgent uncle he was, Beomgyu had taken the scissors and fulfilled her wishes, snipping it into a chic yet uneven bob. He had gotten a stern talking to when he returned her home, but Minji had turned to him just before he left, tugging at his wrist so he’d lean down.

“You’re my favorite uncle,” she’d whispered as if it were a secret.

If he wasn’t her only uncle, he might have been touched by the sentiment.

His gaze swept to the right to catch him again. There, in the thick of the schoolyard madness, was the tall stranger. Only now a little girl had thrown herself into his arms, and he had caught her effortlessly, lifting her. He kissed her on the crown of her head before setting her down, taking her hand in his and setting off down the path.

Then he turned.

Anyone could be attractive from behind: broad shoulders, confident posture, a well-fitted shirt. But this was different. This was something else entirely. His eyes were a deep brown, framed by the kind of gentle crow’s feet that only made him look more distinguished. Wire-frame glasses settled on his nose, his lips full and plush, pressing together as he nodded along to whatever the little girl was saying. When he did, dimples creased his cheeks, deep and utterly devastating.

Alphas weren’t supposed to be this beautiful. Handsome, sure. Rugged, often. But this man was something else entirely. Elegant, refined; he must have been absolutely breathtaking when he was Beomgyu’s age.

“Beomgyu?”

A chirpy voice shattered his daze, and he blinked down to find Minji looking up at him, then following his gaze with a confused pout.

“Minji! I didn’t see you come,” Beomgyu’s voice broke.

Minji smiled almost knowingly, too aware for her age. “I was calling your name.”

“Well,” Beomgyu struggled, grasping for an excuse. “Your uncle is getting old. His ears don’t work like they used to.”

Minji simply walked past him, unimpressed, and stood by the passenger door. “Why are you here, anyway? You don’t pick me up.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, clicking open the door. So much sass for someone who barely reached his waist. “Can’t you just be grateful that I’m here?”

“You’re normally playing games right now. You don’t do anything. That’s what my dad says.” She clambered into the car seat, knocking some of Beomgyu’s cd’s onto the console.

Beomgyu sighed dramatically as he buckled her in. “You should tell your dad to stop being so judgmental.”

When Beomgyu dropped Minji off, he took his time wandering into the house, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he made his way to the study. His brother was exactly where he expected, perched at his desk and surrounded by neat stacks of papers and an intimidating number of awards and certificates lining the walls. Beomgyu leaned against the doorframe, watching him tap away at his keyboard before clearing his throat.

“She’s home.”

His brother nodded without looking up. “Thanks for that.”

Beomgyu bit his lip, eyes darting around the room as he tried to casually work his way into the real reason he was here. He needed to do this subtly, so his brother wouldn’t get suspicious.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Do you need anyone to pick Minji up,” he trailed off, pretending to examine a framed photo on the wall. “Like, every day?”

His brother finally swiveled in his chair, eyebrows raised in immediate suspicion. “You need money that badly?”

Ah, yes. Money. That was a good cover.

Beomgyu nodded solemnly. “It doesn’t have to be much. Just fuel money.” 

Because if he was going to spend his afternoons staring at the beautiful dad at the school gate, he might as well get paid for it.

His brother eyed him for a long moment, tilting his head slightly before letting out a short laugh. “Fine with me.”

And just like that, it was settled. Beomgyu would pick Minji up every day. Because he was a good uncle. A responsible, doting uncle. But also because he needed to confirm, once and for all, whether or not the ridiculously attractive alpha at the school had a ring on his finger.

The next day, Beomgyu arrived at the school earlier than necessary. Twenty minutes early, to be exact. Which, in his defense, was just good time management. But the tall stranger was already there, standing with one hand tucked casually into his pocket while the other scrolled through his phone.

Beomgyu smiled in satisfaction. Not old enough to struggle with technology — that was a good sign. Not that it meant much, even his eighty year-old grandfather knew how to use a phone. Still, Beomgyu would take his wins where he could get them.

This time, he didn’t linger by his car. He moved forward, standing just close enough to look natural but far enough that he wouldn’t seem like he was intentionally trying to close the distance between them. He folded his arms, trying to emanate nonchalance, and let his gaze wander. Definitely not in the direction of the alpha, definitely not tracking his every subtle movement.

Beomgyu wanted to move closer to catch his scent more than anything. It was a ridiculous thought, borderline perverse, but Beomgyu couldn’t help it. Would he have that deep, woody scent alphas always seemed to have? Or something fresh and citrusy, something bright? Beomgyu had always been told he smelled good, he wouldn’t mind a second opinion from someone who looked like that.

The thought made him reckless.

“Nice day, right?” he blurted, and immediately cringed at the way his voice pitched up.

The alpha glanced up, looking around as if to check whether someone else had spoken. When his eyes finally landed on Beomgyu, he tilted his head, one thick eyebrow arching in confusion. “Are you talking to me?”

Of course his voice was deep. Of course it was smooth and warm, like honey. This guy was set on being Beomgyu’s dream man, and it was becoming a problem.

Beomgyu turn to glance at the mostly empty sidewalk, then at the few cars just now pulling in. “Not many other people I could be talking to,” he pointed out. “Unless you talk to yourself sometimes. Then I guess I’ll take it back.”

The lines between his eyebrows furrowed and created a hard divot. “No, not usually.” He wasn’t looking at his phone, he actually was beginning to move his arm to tuck it into his pocket. Beomgyu had to strike now.

“Cool,” he said casually. “Yeah.”

Not exactly the smooth opening he had envisioned. His brain and his mouth were clearly not working in tandem.

There was a long silence between them, one that almost made Beomgyu feel like crawling back into his skin. He was much better at this when he wasn't attracted to the person he was flirting with, it was so much simpler when making eye contact made the other person flinch instead of the other way around.

How could he get this back on track?

“Are you married?”

Because that was a normal segue, a casual question to ask to any stranger. 

The alpha’s stoic expression faltered, just for a second. His eyes widened, his posture shifted slightly, off-balance. But it was a momentary glitch, a tiny fracture in his otherwise impenetrable cool. He recovered swiftly, "I don’t see how that’s any of your business."

Yeah, that’s fair.

Beomgyu shrugged, playing it off like he hadn’t asked an intrusive question in the name of small talk. "I just asked because you’re the only alpha here," he said. "Not that I’d really know, I’ve only been here once. Yesterday."

The alpha mirrored his stance, crossing his arms. "Right."

Okay, this was going terribly. Beomgyu scratched at his jaw, whispering under his breath, "A man of few words."

"Hm?" His lips twitched slightly, as if suppressing a smile. Or maybe Beomgyu was just desperate enough to hallucinate it.

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like Beomgyu to feel a little desperate, he had never had to be desperate in his life. He spent summers with alphas that felt like static rather than a spark; like he was forcing himself to romanticize what he was experiencing. The memories of those sun-drenched days eventually melted away, leaving behind only the vague sensation of being trapped in something that never fit. Every relationship he had experienced, and there weren’t many, had been a meditation in patience. Waiting to feel attraction, waiting to feel chemistry, waiting to know what love was like.

Beomgyu had never been in love. It felt like an exclusive club he was beating at the gate of, demanding to be let in. He wanted to know what it was like too, and everyone inside was hoarding it.

This was the first time he felt a string being pulled and he was not going to ignore it, no matter the cost.

Before he could figure out what to say next, the alpha spoke first. "Minji is your niece, right?"

This is the first time he would be taken off-guard by Soobin, amongst many others. 

"How do you know Minji?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Or that I’m her uncle?"

The alpha tilted his head slightly, like the question puzzled him. "My daughter is her friend. They’re in the same class."

“Oh.”

"I saw you with her yesterday," he continued, clearing his throat. "That’s why. I just noticed."

Beomgyu blinked. He could work with this.

“Yeah, I’m her uncle. Beomgyu,” he said slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable, hoping, daring, the man to repeat it after him. He wanted to hear how his name would sound in that rich voice. A little perverted once more? Maybe. But he had long since accepted his own shamelessness.

The bell chimed again, almost as if it was signalling their farewell and Beomgyu wanted to tell it to hush. He wasn’t done yet.

The man gave a small nod, turning his gaze toward the school entrance. “Nice to meet you.”

No, he needed his name. He wouldn’t leave without it.

“And you are?”

The wind tousled the man’s hair, dark strands slipping into the frames of his glasses. He reached up absentmindedly, sweeping it up through his hands and pushing it away to expose his forehead. He was so sexy.

“Choi Soobin.”

Choi Soobin, he thought. You will be mine soon.

And so it went, day after day. Beomgyu lingering just outside of Soobin’s orbit, an undeniable presence, nudging and teasing with relentless curiosity.

“Do you have pets?”

Soobin sighed, barely looking up from his phone. “Why? Are you in the market for one?”

“Just curious,” Beomgyu replied. “You look like you’d own a big dog.”

Soobin glanced at him then, skeptical. “I look like I own a big dog?”

Other times, Beomgyu was bolder, brimming with confidence; the kind that came with extra effort in styling his hair so the ends of it were curled up, or picking the perfect shade of lip gloss that shimmered subtly in the light. Those were the days he let himself drift closer, just to see how far he could push.

He would inch closer with each question. “So is Yuna turning nine this year?”

Soobin barely spared him a glance, instead checking his watch with waning patience. “Mhm.”

As Beomgyu stepped closer, the scent hit him, although it was vague and dull. A haze of cinnamon and brown sugar curled around him, wrapping him in something that felt nostalgically familiar. Comforting. He smelled like a sugar cookie, or maybe something even better — a fresh pastry from a bakery on a cold morning, the kind you couldn’t resist even if you tried. Beomgyu had never encountered a scent quite like this before, and for a moment, it almost stole his focus entirely. 

He forced himself to blink out of his daze. “So is Minji.”

“Minji is already nine,” he corrected. “Yuna went to her birthday party.”

Know-it-all.

“I didn’t see you there. I feel like I would have remembered seeing you pick her up.”

Soobin let out a soft sigh, as if he had been expecting the interrogation. “My ex picked her up and dropped her off. He has her on weekends.”

Ex. Beomgyu nearly staggered from the sheer force of the revelation. For a brief, victorious moment, he wanted to high-five himself for his exceptional detective work. Deduction skills? Unparalleled. Line of questioning? Impeccable.

But he played it cool. “Oh,” he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Somehow, in the midst of his scheming, they had drifted closer. So close their shoulders nearly touched. The warmth radiating from Soobin felt like an extension of that same sweet scent. He wanted to lean in, just a little. Maybe even tuck his face into the crook of Soobin’s neck and just…

“Are you okay?”

Beomgyu snapped out of it, looking up to find Soobin staring at him, brows slightly furrowed. The concern on his face sent a spark of panic through Beomgyu. Was he that obvious?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answered, then, before he could stop himself, “Are you okay?”

Soobin huffed out a quiet, breathless laugh. “I’m okay.”

Before Beomgyu could come up with something clever in response, something flirtatious, or at the very least coherent, the school doors burst open. A flood of children spilled out, chattering and laughing, their backpacks bouncing against their small bodies. Yuna and Minji were side by side, their faces lighting up at the sight of them. Their excitement was almost contagious. 

“We learned about plussing in math today,” Yuna announced, her pigtails bobbing as she ran over, the beads in her hair clinking together with each movement.

Soobin gasped dramatically and scooped her into a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “No way. What’s 12 + 14?”

Yuna turned to Minji, wide-eyed with urgency, as if they had just been presented with an unsolvable riddle. Minji, equally concerned, mirrored her expression.

“She is just as bad as her dad,” Soobin said solemnly.

A glance passed between the two girls, one of those wordless exchanges that only kids seemed to master. Their eyes sparked with a shared secret, lips twitching with barely contained smiles.

“Beomgyu,” Minji said tentatively. “Can we go over to your apartment to play tea party?”

Beside her, Yuna’s eyes were wide and pleading as she turned to her dad. The resemblance was almost uncanny, those same dark eyes glistening beneath long lashes. Beomgyu was sure she even had his dimples. “Can I?”

Soobin sighed softly, a hint of apology in the downward curve of his lips. “I don’t know, baby. I have work to do tonight.”

Beomgyu hadn’t even said yes. In fact, he hadn’t been consulted at all. Why was everyone making decisions for him? Did he even have a say in this? He cleared his throat, hands finding his hips in a display of offense.

“Guys, I have stuff to do, too, you know,” he protested. Though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he nearly smiled.

Minji’s reaction was immediate. She burst into laughter, clinging to Yuna for support as her giggles rang out. High-pitched and loud. The sound was infectious and Beomgyu felt his resolve falter. Suddenly, he kind of wanted to go home and lie down.

Soobin looked at him with a mix of amusement and pity, eyes soft behind his glasses. “Little girls aren’t very nice. You’ll get used to it.”

“How about we go back home, Minji?” Beomgyu suggested. “Yuna can come to your house, and I’ll drop her off later?”

The suggestion had the girls clapping and holding each other tight. Their joy was so genuine that Beomgyu’s heart squeezed a little. He would never admit it out loud, but he was already planning out which of Minji’s stuffed animals would have the honor of being served imaginary tea.

Then Soobin glanced down at him, and for a second, Beomgyu forgot how to breathe. He hadn’t realized how tall Soobin was in comparison to him until now. It was the kind of height difference that made Beomgyu feel a bit flustered. It was almost romantic to have to look up at someone like this, lashes fluttering with the effort to maintain eye contact.

“You don’t have to drop her off,” Soobin offered. “I can pick her up in an hour or so.”

Beomgyu waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t sweat it. Just text me your address and she’ll be home. You said you have things to do, anyway.”

Because if Beomgyu was anything, he was a schemer. And how could he possibly let an opportunity like this slip through his fingers? He simply couldn’t.

Soobin hesitated for a fraction of a second before his expression softened with what looked like gratitude. He pulled out his phone, thumb brushing over the screen before he handed it to Beomgyu, unlocked and waiting. “Just put your number in here. I’m sorry, I’m sure you have better things to do.”

He didn’t.

“Yeah, a few things,” Beomgyu lied. His fingers flew over the keypad as he added his number with a little heart emoji at the end. He cleared his throat. “I love kids, though, so it’s not a problem.”

Did that sound as casual as he wanted it to? Probably not, especially considering the way his ears burned. The truth was, he didn’t even like kids that much — at least not ones that weren’t Minji. And, well, maybe Yuna, too.

Soobin looked down at his phone and raised an eyebrow, “Minji’s pretty uncle… Red heart emoji?”

Beomgyu grabbed Minji’s hand in his left and Yuna’s in the other. “See you soon, Soobin!”

When he turned back and ran over to his car with the girls, he could have sworn he heard a huff of real laughter.

The tea party was, by all accounts, a resounding success. Beomgyu’s brother had reluctantly pulled out the small, round table and Minji’s box of toys, all while throwing him a look that screamed seriously? when Beomgyu folded himself onto one of the tiny stools with impressive dedication. His knees were practically up to his chest, but he made it work.

“You’re making me look like a bad dad,” his brother grumbled, crossing his arms with a huff.

“You’re not a bad dad,” he corrected. Beomgyu brought an empty plastic teacup to his lips, pinky extended. “I’m just a great uncle.”

The girls, delighted with their willing victim, had wasted no time brushing his long hair into messy ponytails and painting his fingernails a pale pink that somehow ended up on three of his knuckles, too. They chattered away, voices rising and falling in excitement, and Beomgyu found himself surprisingly content amid the chaos.

Yuna, perched regally on a floral cushion, launched into a story about her uncle Taehyun — though she made a point to clarify very seriously that “he was not her real uncle.” Apparently, Taehyun had bought her a princess castle, which Beomgyu could only assume was a better gift than Beomgyu had ever given, whatever it was.

“Oh, well, Minji remember when I bought you…” he stalled, brain scrambling for anything. “That plush?”

Minji blinked up at him. She tilted her head and pointed to the massive ladybug plush slumped in the corner of her room, the one that could probably double as a beanbag. “That was Uncle Kai,” she corrected.

Beomgyu nodded, sufficiently humiliated. “Right. Of course it was.” 

Then his phone beeped.

Unknown number

Hi, Beomgyu. Here is my address. Thank you for this.

[location attached]

Beomgyu jumped to add his number to his contacts.

me

no worries soobin!! 

she was an angel

whats a princess castle btw

Not even a second later.

hot dad soobin

Princess castle? What is the context?

me

ur daughter embarrassed me

made me look cheap

apparently uncle taehyun is a much better person than i am

hot dad soobin

Oh, my friend bought Yuna a dollhouse for her birthday. It’s quite beautiful and detailed.

me

alright 

not feeling much better

hot dad soobin

Don’t feel bad. He is just rich and doesn’t know what else to do with his money.

me

ahhhh

thats where we differ i fear

hot dad soobin

You’re young, you have time to be rich.

Anyway, I’ll see you soon.

me

u will definitely see me soon!

He didn’t really know what he meant by that, but Beomgyu guessed that was the end of their conversation as Soobin didn’t reply back.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, clapping his hands lightly. “Alright, Yuna, looks like it’s time to go home.”

She whined, but eventually rose from her stool and walked with Beomgyu to the car. Once they were buckled in, he entered Soobin’s address into his maps, thumb hovering for just a second longer than necessary before hitting ‘start.’ The drive wasn’t far, but the directions felt almost surreal, each turn making his heart beat a little faster. He was going to Soobin’s house.

His palms felt a bit clammy on the steering wheel, a jittery energy thrumming beneath his skin. In a silly way, he was almost giddy — like a teenager with a crush, all butterflies and anxious nerves and stupidly hopeful thoughts. It was a ridiculous reaction, probably, but he couldn’t stop the grin that pulled at his lips.

The truth was, he hadn’t ever felt this way. And as the city lights blurred past and Yuna hummed softly to herself in the backseat, it struck him as something beautifully warm.

They eventually pulled up to a small, quaint house that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairy tale. The garden was beautiful in a way most houses in Seoul weren’t, lush and wild without being unkempt. The plants were a brilliant shade of green, ivy curling up the exterior walls. Delicate flowers in soft pastels peeked through the greenery, swaying gently in the spring breeze. Stone steps, rounded and uneven, led to the front door and each one made Beomgyu’s heart thump harder against his ribcage. 

Before he could fully gather himself, Yuna darted past him. She flung herself at the mesh security door and thumped her fists with an enthusiasm that made Beomgyu wince. “Home!”

From inside, he heard the soft padding of socked feet, followed by the quiet click of a lock turning. The door swung open, and there stood Soobin.

“Hi, baby,” Soobin greeted, warm and gentle.

Beomgyu immediately felt woozy, knees going weak. He gripped the door frame with what he hoped was a casual stance and definitely not an attempt to stay upright.

Soobin was dressed down in a simple white t-shirt and soft sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the material worn and comfortable. His glasses weren’t the usual thin rectangles he wore at school, but thicker frames that softened the sharp lines of his face. In his own home, without the crisp shirts and polished shoes, he looked different. Calm and at ease, impossibly cozy and approachable. He hadn’t necessarily ever felt an attraction to older alphas, but he could see the appeal now. Well, the ones who looked like Soobin.

When Soobin’s eyes met his, a genuine smile spread across his lips, and Beomgyu almost forgot how breathing worked. His thin top lip curled into his gums, dimples carving deep into his cheeks, and it was better than anything Beomgyu’s imagination would have conjured up. 

“They ruined you, huh?” Soobin teased.

Beomgyu quickly moved to the window to inspect the damage. His hair was mussed and knotted from where the girls had tugged it into messy ponytails. The pale pink nail polish painted across his hand, the glitter that clung to him like glue.

“Do you think I get uncle brownie points?”

“Oh, for sure.” Soobin said, “Did you want to come inside for a cup of tea?”

Now, Beomgyu knew a polite offer when he heard one. Soobin was just being nice, extending the invitation with a patient, gracious smile, fully expecting Beomgyu to mirror it with a kind no. But Beomgyu was not that kind of person. He never had been, really. Besides, how could he pass up an opportunity to see more of Soobin looking soft and comfy in his own space?

“Yeah, I love green tea,” Beomgyu replied, already toeing off his shoes in the entryway. “Do you have it? If not, I can just have a beer.”

Beomgyu stepped past Soobin, who was staggered by his brazen confidence. “Has anyone told you that you’re ridiculous?”

“Many,” he admitted. Beomgyu stepped inside. “I consider it one of my better qualities.”

The door clicked shut behind them, the soft scent of sugar and something even sweeter enveloping him in warmth. The house was as cozy as he was, filled with mismatched furniture and framed photos, the kind of place where sunlight pooled on the hardwood and blankets were tossed casually over the back of the couch. It was painfully domestic, and Beomgyu’s chest ached with something wistful and dangerous.

“I tried to clean up a bit,” Soobin said shyly. “Sorry if it’s a mess.”

Beomgyu turned to him, doing his best to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest at the implication behind those words. Soobin had prepared for him, wanted him to come inside.

“It’s beautiful,” Beomgyu replied and he meant it. It was a little too earnest, a little too fast.

Soobin led him further inside to the kitchen, where a small dining table sat beneath a warm overhead light. Without a second thought, Soobin pulled out a chair for him, and Beomgyu hesitated a moment before sitting, the tips of his ears red at the simple gesture.

Along the windowsill were small pots lined up, each painted with wobbly flowers and cartoonish vines. He could only guess they were Yuna’s handiwork; the kind of art that was bright and messy and heartfelt. 

As Beomgyu settled into the chair, he watched Soobin move around the kitchen with a natural ease, his fine hair pushed back from his face and teeth pressing into his full bottom lip. He reached into the pantry, glancing over his shoulder with a crooked smile.

“I have tea,” Soobin said, holding up a box of green tea with a tilt of his head. “But would you prefer a beer?”

He couldn’t deny the truth of it.

“Unfortunately, beer.”

“Thought so,” Soobin chuckled and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, aiming for relaxed and probably failing. “I won’t hang around too long. You probably need to go to bed or something.”

Soobin looked up at him with a grin and put the kettle on to boil. “Because I’m old?

Yeah, that was kind of his thought process, but he didn’t want to say so.

“You work hard. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Soobin hummed and crossed the kitchen to place a cold beer in front of him. When he leaned in, Beomgyu’s breath caught for just a moment. He smelled just as good as he did the first time they met, something so homey about it — as if the very walls of the house around them had sunk into his skin like insulation.

“I don’t work too hard. Office jobs are pretty relaxed. I have a bunch of meetings throughout the day and a few projects to manage, but I wouldn’t say it exhausts me. I’m used to it.”

Beomgyu took the beer gratefully, fingers brushing for a split second, just enough to make his skin heat. He twisted the cap off, watching Soobin with a smitten smile.

“And then you clock off and pick up your daughter from school and manage everything here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

With a shrug, “You’re being generous.” And then a small, “Thank you.”

He poured the boiling water into a mug with tiny strawberries painted on the side and stirred the teabag around. When he took a sip, he grimaced immediately, nose scrunching in the most endearing way possible. The sight was so unexpectedly charming that Beomgyu had to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

Soobin caught the expression and narrowed his eyes, cheeks pink. “What?”

“Nothing,” Beomgyu said quickly, biting his lip to hide his grin. “You’re cute.”

Soobin’s flustered blink and the way his fingers tightened around the mug almost made the slip worth it. For a moment, Beomgyu fumbled for words, fingers tapping nervously against the cold bottle in his hand. It should have felt stranger than this, sitting in an alpha’s kitchen, wrapped up in him. It did make his skin prickle, but it was smoothed over by the way Soobin kept glancing at him with those soft eyes 

“I always ask you questions,” Beomgyu blurted, his foot tapped against the leg of the table, nervous energy spilling over. “You never ask me anything. Isn’t there anything you want to know?”

Soobin’s fingers traced the rim of his mug, thoughtful. He looked down for a moment, the dim kitchen light casting shadows across his face, and then back up with shy honesty.

“I guess I’ve just been a little scared of hearing the answers,” he admitted quietly, the corners of his lips curling sheepishly.

Beomgyu blinked, head tilting in curiosity. “What would you be scared of?” 

Soobin’s eyes glimmered and it made Beomgyu’s breath catch. Leaning forward, Soobin braced an elbow on the table.

“Well, first,” Soobin started. “I know your brother well, and I know he’s in his thirties. You can’t be too much younger, but I’m curious.” He paused, eyes glazing over Beomgyu. “How old are you?”

Beomgyu inhaled a little too sharply, heart thundering in his ears. This could be it, he thought, the moment Soobin turns me away. His fingers tightened around the beer bottle, nails pressing into the label.

“Twenty-six,” he breathed, and it came out softer than intended — like a confession. “How old are you?”

The lines near Soobin’s eyes creased at that, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t hesitate, “I’m forty this year.”

Beomgyu blinked, waiting for the panic to set in. For the reality to feel like a wall between them. But it didn’t. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Forty. That wasn’t too bad. Actually, it was kind of hot. The kind of age that meant Soobin had his life together, that he knew what he wanted and didn’t waste time on things that didn’t matter. An alpha with confidence and experience, with heartfelt eyes and a quiet laugh that made Beomgyu feel like his life was about to be flipped upside-down.

“Wow,” he said. “You wear it well.”

Soobin rolled his eyes and averted his gaze, a small laugh escaping despite himself. 

“I have a feeling you’re going to drive me nuts,” he said, but there was no real malice in it, just the kind of fond exasperation that made Beomgyu’s heart flutter pathetically.

He was just thinking the same thing.

“Is that a compliment?” Beomgyu grinned and leaned in a little, and the way Soobin’s eyes looked to his mouth didn't go unnoticed

“Take it however you want,” Soobin shot back and Beomgyu decided he liked it when he was confident.

And maybe it was the warmth of the kitchen or the buzz of the beer starting to settle in, but Beomgyu found himself thinking, maybe this was the in. The moment that would change everything; a sandcastle built upon dry sand, one tower at a time...

Beomgyu had left his home shortly after and thought about it all weekend. He unraveled the moments thread by thread and deliberated on what each expression meant, and what his words suggested. What did that half-smile mean? Was Soobin’s lingering gaze just kindness, or was there something more to it? The questions twined around his mind, refusing to loosen their hold, and Beomgyu found himself grinning at his own reflection more times than he cared to admit.

He thought about how similar they lived, although worlds apart. Beomgyu’s home was filled with knick-knacks from his past and nostalgic records with north facing windows spilling sunlight neat piles of paper on his table that he refused to look at.

Whereas Soobin’s home was messy and lived-in, filled to the brim with love and signs that a family lived there. A colorful fridge decorated with Yuna’s drawings, mismatched mugs stacked haphazardly in the cabinets. It was the kind of home that pulled you in and made you stay. He thought about a future where his own belongings could fill it, too.

Beomgyu groaned into his pillow each night, face hot, irritating himself for getting ahead of himself. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how their names might sound said together, or what he might wear at their wedding. He did this sometimes, creating a future with people after getting an ounce of attention. They were just fictional characters in his head, though, never real people he had met.

“Are you going to the Omega Appreciation Breakfast?” Kai said, crackly over the phone.

Beomgyu shifted, pulling the blanket higher. His brother had laughed about the whole idea, calling it ridiculous and complaining that betas deserved love too. Beomgyu had rolled his eyes and argued that omegas had more stereotypes to fight against, that heats were no walk in the park and a few pancakes were the least they deserved.

“I don’t know,” he said, biting at the skin of his thumb. “Minji wants me to go, and I kind of want free food, but you know how I am at community shit. It’s so awkward.”

Kai’s laugh was high and loud, disrupting the connection. “If you want, I can come down from the staff room and sit with you.”

He almost said yes, but he could picture it too easily: Kai at a table with his coworkers, joking and shoving each other while Beomgyu sat wayward and picked at his plate. Kai had a whole workday ahead, and it wasn’t fair to pull him away just because Beomgyu couldn’t handle small talk.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure I’ll make a friend. Or, I’ll force Minji to sit with me.”

“Just call me if you need. I probably won’t pick up, though.”

Beomgyu was halfway through muttering “Why would I call you then?” when the line went dead. He stared at his phone in betrayal, then flopped back against his pillows.

In the end, he decided to go only when his body betrayed him by waking naturally at six in the morning. Maybe it was fate, he reasoned, dragging himself out of bed and into a scratchy but decent-enough sweater. Who would have thought that having a simple crush could lead him to elementary school activities at ungodly hours?

The school grounds were already buzzing with too many people by the time he arrived, a mix of omega parents and a few scattered betas chatting over paper cups of coffee. Beomgyu’s stomach twisted with anxiety — the kind that came with being charming by necessity rather than nature. He was good at small talk when it mattered, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

Beomgyu’s brother was outside waiting for him with Minji, who squealed when she saw him. “I hope you feel appreciated today.”

“I’m an omega and I am loved,” Beomgyu brought a hand to his chest and nodded.

He leaned down to pass his daughter her backpack, ruffling her hair with a tenderness that only a father could offer. After a soft farewell, Beomgyu took Minji's hand with a bright grin. “Lead the way!”

Minji led him through a series of hallways that twisted and turned far more than seemed necessary. Beomgyu found himself struggling to keep up, wondering if this elementary school was meant to feel like a labrynth. Finally, they spilled into a massive gymnasium, the chatter bouncing off the high ceilings. Tables stretched from end to end, flanked by long lines of food trays against the walls. The chairs were packed so closely that there was only a breath of personal space and Beomgyu grimaced at the thought of having to spill his life story, or lack thereof, to a stranger over a plate of sliced oranges.

“Go find us a table,” Beomgyu whispered. “I’ll make you a plate.”

She ran over, not to find a table, but to greet her friends. It left Beomgyu stranded and painfully aware that the only person he knew here was an eight year-old with questionable loyalty. He sighed and made his way to the food line.

Standing among a sea of strangers, Beomgyu shifted awkwardly with a sudden awareness of how he towered over the other attendees. He tried to shrink in on himself, an effort to blend in. He only did this sometimes, he preferred to extend himself when he was out at night in order to ward off any negative attention. 

He reached for the samgyeopsal, groaning at the smell of it.

Then a shadow fell over him, and a familiar voice said, “At this time of the morning?”

Beomgyu turned, startled, and nearly dropped the tongs. His heart did an embarrassing little flip when he found Soobin standing next to him, a plate in hand and a small smile tugging at his lips. Soobin’s plate was a picture of health: mostly fruits and a few pastries, not a hint of grease. Of course. Beomgyu tried not to think too much about how good he looked, hair tossed with a little bit of gel and wire frames perched on the tip of his nose.

“What are you doing here?” Beomgyu blurted.

Soobin’s eyebrows knitted together in disbelief at how blunt he was. He replied slowly, as if unsure whether Beomgyu was joking or just dense. “My daughter attends this school...”

“No,” Beomgyu slapped at his shoulder, too friendly, but his hand was already making contact before the action connected with his brain. “You’re an alpha.”

“I appreciate omegas,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Because of course he did. Choi Soobin probably attended weekend book clubs dedicated to omega literary fiction, probably wrote essays dissecting the social climate between their distinctive types over cups of black coffee. Stupid Soobin and his stupid, perfect lips.

Beomgyu moved further down the line and placed a neat pile of chicken in the corner of his plate. “You approached me questioning my choice in breakfast, I’m not feeling very valued.”

“Sorry. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that fatty foods aren’t the best for me this early in the morning,” he said lowly so only the two of them could hear.

“Old man,” Beomgyu laughed.

Soobin shot him a look — one eyebrow arched and lips twisting up just slightly. It was the kind of look that said and you’re attracted to this old man, without him having to say a single word. Beomgyu’s heart beat traitorously fast, and he quickly turned back to the food trays with warm cheeks.

He finished making his plate and trailed to the end of the table, glancing subtly over his shoulder in a way he hoped wasn’t too obvious. When he caught sight of Soobin following behind him, close enough that the warmth of his presence was beating against his back, Beomgyu bit back a grin.

Feeling bold, he pulled out a chair for Soobin, flashing him a bright, innocent smile. Soobin paused, surprise etched on his face before he settled into the seat.

Amused, “Thank you?”

“No worries!” Beomgyu chirped. He slid into the chair opposite, fighting to keep his hands steady. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Soobin’s mouth formed a teasing smile. “You want me gone that bad, huh?”

“No, I’m glad you’re here, trust me. I don’t think I’d survive being lectured about my lack of a mate without backup.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and he winced inwardly at how sad they sounded.

But Soobin’s expression fell, eyes dark and serious as they lingered on Beomgyu’s face. “Don’t let anyone tell you that there’s a time or an age when something must be done,” he said firmly. “You aren’t racing anybody. It’s silly for anyone to say such a thing.”

Beomgyu stared, momentarily speechless. There was something earnest in Soobin’s tone, a conviction that made the words sink deep and it comforted him. But just as his heart began to settle, Soobin’s lips quirked back upward with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Besides,” he added and tipped his head with a lazy sort of charm, “pretty omegas won’t have much trouble finding anyone.”

Choi Soobin just called him pretty. Out loud. In a crowded gym. Without the slightest bit of hesitation. Beomgyu swore he flatlined, and for a humiliating second, all he could do was gape like a fish out of water.

“Oh, well, yeah, I guess,” Beomgyu stuttered. “Like, I agree. I think.” 

Soobin tilted his head to catch Beomgyu’s eye, his own glinting in a way that irritated Beomgyu. His smirk was feline and far too pleased with what he had created. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Beomgyu could feel the warmth move from the very tips of his ears to his toes. 

“You know you’re pretty, Choi Beomgyu.” Soobin stuck the prongs of his fork into a slice of watermelon, “Don’t act like you haven’t heard it before.”

For once, his wit failed him completely and all he could do was mumble something unintelligible into his plate. There was nothing that turned him on quite like a compliment.

“So, do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

Soobin nodded, smiling once more at the change of topic. “Work, and then not much else. That’s been my routine for a while. How about you?”

Now, Beomgyu could lie. He could claim he also had to go to work to attend some important meeting or other adult-sounding obligation. Or maybe, if he was feeling reckless, he could mention a date just to see the way Soobin might react. The idea had its appeal. But in the end, Beomgyu settled for honesty.

“I don’t do much. I think that’s why having something to do, you know, taking care of Minji — it has helped a lot,” he admitted.

“I feel the same way,” he said, understanding. “Having things to distract you helps take your mind off things.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help the small bit of curiosity that sparked within him. What exactly did Soobin need to distract himself from? With how effortlessly composed he always seemed, Beomgyu found it hard to picture him troubled by anything at all. Did his previous relationship end badly? Did he and his ex still talk, maybe for Yuna’s sake? Did it ever stress him out, being a single father, or did he just manage to make it look that easy? He felt like he was prying, even if the thoughts were just in his head.

“Did you want to get a coffee with me after work?”

The request froze Soobin. For a man who’d spent most of the conversation in control, it was almost gratifying to see him momentarily thrown off balance. Beomgyu will admit that he hadn’t planned to say it out loud, but the way Soobin’s lips parted made him think that his impulsive mouth knew better than his brain did.

His fingers tapped against the plastic table in thought, “Just the two of us?”

“Unless Yuna really likes americanos, I’d say so.”

Soobin’s gaze dipped as he looked down at the table, the playfulness fading into something hesitant and, sadly, regretful. “Beomgyu, I don’t think our age difference is responsible.”

“I thought you said no one could resist a pretty omega?” He replied with the fake confidence he was known for.

His eyes were apologetic, the frown lines etched between his eyebrows hardening. “I know, but I’m trying anyway.” 

The honesty in his tone, so gentle and so careful, made Beomgyu’s breath catch. Despite himself, despite the flutter of disappointment in his stomach, Beomgyu couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up.

“Not used to rejection, that one stung.”

“It’s not rejection, Beomgyu,” he sighed. “I’m doing this for you. You have so many better options out there — there are alphas your age that make a lot more sense for you to date.”

“Our age difference isn’t that extreme. I’m nearly thirty.”

“You’re twenty-six,” Soobin countered.

They fell into a stalemate, eyes locked in a silent battle. Beomgyu’s fingers drummed restlessly against the table, his mind racing to decode the mixed signals. Hadn’t Soobin been flirting with him just moments ago? Or had it all been kindness, or worse, pity? The thought made his chest ache, but he swallowed it down.

“Alright,” Beomgyu paused. “Let’s just be friends then.”

Soobin’s fork froze mid-air, a glint of something crossing his face before he slowly nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Minji’s plate sat untouched, she was too enthralled in whatever game she was playing with the other kids. Whereas, they had fallen into silence, the kind that pressed heavy and suffocating between them. Beomgyu stabbed at his food without really tasting it, eyes fixed on his plate to avoid the lingering glances Soobin kept throwing his way.

“Anyway, he was clearly flirting with me.” Beomgyu whined, “I just don’t get it. He gives off such mixed signals.”

Minji, seated on the edge of a library chair with her legs swinging, nodded solemnly as if she were the world’s youngest relationship counselor. Kai, meanwhile, skimmed a book list before folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket.

“That sounds bad, hyung,” Kai remarked and looked at him sympathetically.

It was bad. Soobin has barely looked at Beomgyu since that fateful breakfast and it has sworn Beomgyu off samgyeopsal for life. “It’s really bad, Kai.”

“You like him,” Minji said as if she had cracked a complex cipher.

“Well, obviously, Minji. You aren’t Sherlock Holmes.”

Kai chuckled and leaned against the shelf opposite him. He was a teacher at the elementary school, a close friend from his college days who actually got a career in his chosen field. He was one of the few constants in Beomgyu’s life. Despite having a life that seemed effortlessly put together, the alpha had never once judged him for floundering. There was a quiet sort of acceptance in his presence that Beomgyu was grateful for.

“Look,” Kai started. “If he’s sending mixed signals, maybe he’s just as confused as you are. Give it some time.”

Beomgyu huffed but didn’t argue, because the thought that Soobin might be just as flustered, just as unsure, was a small comfort. And for now, it was enough to keep his heart from aching too much.

The large room was packed with textbooks and novels that smelled like damp paper, the kind that was weathered by a hot sun. The oak shelves looked ready to tumble under their weight, dipping in the middle.

When he turned a corner, he could hear the calm and quiet voice that had grown far too familiar to him.

“You’re going to need a reading book, so you have a few options. I know we have a few at home, but I’ll buy you anything you want today. Just point it out.”

He could only look on at Soobin folded in half to be equal in height as his daughter, his suit looking impressively out of place here. Yuna wasn’t her usual bouncing, bright-eyed self; instead, she mirrored her father’s calm demeanor, her small hands clutching the edge of his sleeve as they spoke in soft whispers, like they were sharing secrets in a world built just for the two of them.

It was sweet and painful. The sight hit Beomgyu like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath right out of him. Seeing them like this, so gentle with each other, made him realize just how little he truly knew about Soobin. How shallow his yearning was by comparison. He had no right to feel so betrayed by Soobin’s rejection, it just didn’t make sense.

Kai came up behind him and made a noise of exclamation. “Oh, Soobin!”

Soobin’s head turned at the sound, eyes widening slightly when they landed on Beomgyu. For a fraction of a second those eyes stayed fixed on him. Then the moment passed, and Soobin’s expression smoothed into polite surprise.

“It’s Mr. Huening, Yuna,” he said gently, placing an steady hand on her shoulder.

They moved closer, and Soobin set down a small basket of books, fingers brushing the handles a moment too long as if grounding himself. His eyes shifted to Beomgyu every so often, quick and darting, like he couldn’t quite help himself. Like he was warring with himself.

“Yuna misses you as her teacher,” Soobin broke the silence. “She said you’re the only fun teacher she has had.”

Minji had said the same last year, and Beomgyu tried to hide the pride he felt. As if the compliment was his. Kai really was a brilliant teacher.

“I miss having her, Minji and Yuna always gave the instruments a go. They were pretty good, too.”

Soobin nodded slowly, eyes flitting around the bookstore like he was searching for an escape route, the quiet stretching taut between them. It wasn’t supposed to be this strange between them. Beomgyu hadn’t meant to make it this way.

Beomgyu’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag. “Have a nice day, Soobin.”

Soobin’s lips lifted in a tight-lipped smile, one that looked more like a grimace. He stayed rooted in place, watching as Beomgyu turned and walked away. The gaze lingered on his back, he could feel it warm and heavy between his shoulder blades, until Kai’s voice pulled him back to the present.

Kai fell into step beside him. “Was that awkward, or was it just me? And how do you know Soobin?”

Beomgyu let out a breath that was more a sigh than anything, “That’s the guy.”

Kai’s eyes widened. “No way you were trying to get with Soobin.”

“Is it so bad that I did?” Beomgyu grumbled.

“No, not bad,” Kai rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “It’s just that he’s, like, the most wanted person at the school. Even the teachers have crushes on him. He doesn’t talk much and is a little too stoic for my taste, but I mean, I get along with him pretty well.”

Beomgyu felt a strike of jealousy, even if it wasn’t deserved. “Didn’t know you had a thing for alphas.”

“Please, Beomgyu. I’ve been trying to get Yeonjun, the ultimate omega, to date me for years. You can have Soobin.”

That night he couldn’t help himself. Beomgyu was torturing himself, as if he was on punishment for the crime of being horny. He stared at the number on his phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard as he considered the pros and cons with the intensity of a life-altering decision.

The pros were simple: if he texted, Soobin might actually reply. That alone would be a miracle and a step in the right direction.

The cons, however, were an ever-growing list: Soobin could ignore him, or worse, read the message and not respond. He could not even read it at all. Or, in the most catastrophic scenario, Soobin might block his number altogether. The possibilities spiraled, each one worse than the last.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly typed:

me

hi 

weird question

but do u know how to build a shelf?

Beomgyu stared at the message, horrified at himself. He had no intention of building a shelf; didn’t even have the space in his tiny apartment to build anything even if he wanted to. But it was the best he could come up with in that panicked moment.

The three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears.

hot dad soobin

I would say so. Why?

His heart pounded. He read the message, and then read it again. Then he turned off his phone and reopened it to see if he had imagined it.

me

im building one

hot dad soobin

Follow the instruction manual.

me

it doesnt have one

hot dad soobin

It doesn’t have an instruction manual?

Beomgyu was floundering again. He squeezed his eyes shut to escape from the reality that he had built.

me

ikea these days….

hot dad soobin

You might have to call a friend to help you out. 

me

this is me phoning a friend

hot dad soobin

Ah, I see. What kind of shelf are you building?

He tried to sort through the types of shelves in his mind. What kind of shelves were there?

me

the regular kind

of the book variety

hot dad soobin

If you send me a picture, I might be able to help.

Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink at the message. A picture. Soobin was asking him for a picture. Of course, it wasn’t that kind of picture, but still, his mind wandered unhelpfully. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to will away the warmth spreading up his neck.

Beomgyu went onto Google and saved a stock image of a pile of wood.

me

what do u think?

hot dad soobin

Why is it watermarked?

me

i thought u were too old to clock that

hot dad soobin

You didn’t have to ask for building advice under the pretense of talking to me.

I was going to text you, too.

me

oh

It was pathetic, really, but it was all he could manage with his thoughts spiraling wildly. Soobin was going to text him. Beomgyu glanced at the time and it was nearing midnight. Soobin was lying in bed thinking about him. The realization hit him in staggered waves.

hot dad soobin

Did you want to go out for coffee tomorrow morning? 

Work starts a bit later in the day for me.

me

yes

He barely registered hitting send. His brain was still desperately trying to piece together what was happening. Why was Soobin suddenly so forthcoming after days of avoiding him? Had he been struck by an epiphany? Or maybe a ghost had visited him in the dead of night to warn him of a tragic future without Beomgyu in it. Finally, someone was on his side.

hot dad soobin

We can go to the cafe near the school after dropping off the girls, if that is okay with you too.

me

that sounds perfect! 

ill see you then

Beomgyu exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. The cafe near the school — cozy, with indie music playing softly over the speakers and almond croissants sitting in the counter cabinet. It sounded dangerously close to a date. He stared at the screen for a moment, grinning helplessly, before rolling over in bed and burying his face into the pillow with a muffled groan. 

He didn’t want to get ahead of himself this time. His instincts clawed at him as if urging him to keep pressing, but he tried to push them down. This time, he would wait for Soobin. It wasn’t his place to reach out first, to grab Soobin’s hand and tug. He needed Soobin to decide what he wanted; needed the alpha to make the first move this time around.

He tried his best to sleep that night, but it was restless.

When morning came, dark circles framed his eyes. He moved slowly, taking his time brewing coffee and brushing his teeth, trying to soothe the fitful energy prickling beneath his skin. His hands trembled faintly, nerves alight and senses too sharp, catching every sound.

He needed to act normal; to pretend today was just like any other.

Minji slid into the passenger seat when he picked her up, barely buckling in before she squinted at him. Her nose wrinkled and Beomgyu tensed instinctively. “You’re weird.”

“What?” Beomgyu tried to laugh it off, but it came out strained. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You feel weird.”

If she were older, more articulate, she might have said that his scent was all wrong. It was spiked with nerves and uncertainty and it was rolling off him in waves. Beomgyu swallowed a sigh. The suppression patches on his neck felt too warm and it itched at the edges. Maybe he should have replaced them last night.

“Well, you’re too observant for your own good,” he uttered.

The moment they pulled into the parking lot, Minji unbuckled herself and bolted out, rushing to the gates with a short goodbye. Beomgyu watched her go and breathed slowly. He could do this. He just needed to keep it together.

And, of course, he saw Soobin instantly. He was impossible to miss, even without heightened senses. Broad shoulders and tall, the soft v-neck sweater was a miniscule effort to downplay the natural dominance in his posture. His presence was unfortunately effortless, commanding without trying and people parted around him unconsciously. They stole glances when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Maybe he hadn’t noticed before because he’d been too busy being one of his admirers. Now, with the crisp morning air amplifying his anxiety, he couldn’t help but feel like he was in competition.

He forced himself to move, approaching with the skittishness of a startled deer. He didn’t even know why he was so anxious this time around. It could be the way Soobin’s eyes finally made contact with his, or maybe he just didn’t want to feel that rejection again.

“Hey,” Soobin said with a small smile.

That smile was gentle, a private thing, like Soobin kept it just for him and him alone. It’s not like he offered it out to anyone else. "Hi, stranger.”

Soobin's head tilted and it was now a familiar gesture that Beomgyu had grown to recognize as half playful and half inquisitive. It was the way he looked when he was being teased or when he was doing the teasing, and it was good to be on the teasing side of it for once.

“You want to walk? It’s just around the block.”

Beomgyu nodded and continued walking beside him. The sun was high and heavy, melting into the pavement and made everything glow in its amber light. The heat pooled on his skin, but Beomgyu barely noticed. His senses were too focused on the alpha beside him and on the steady sound of his footsteps.

Soobin's scent had changed, or it simply just wasn’t there anymore. It was muted now, smoothed out by whatever new suppressors he was using. He wished he could experience it again, just like the first time.

The cafe came into view. It was small and stout on the corner, its wonky door painted a soft blue. Potted plants were installed along the brick wall, and the air was heavy with the smell of rich desserts and bitter coffee. A bell chimed as they stepped inside and the cool air that greeted them was a welcome sanctuary from the sun's glare.

"So," Soobin's eyes swept over the menu. "What's your order?"

“Normally an iced americano,” Beomgyu said, careful not to disrupt the peaceful stillness they walked into.

“Not something sweet?”

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Soobin held his hands up in surrender, “Not in any particular way. I just don’t drink bitter coffee. I unfortunately like the sweet stuff.” Then with a smile, “Does that ruin my sophisticated image?”

“A little,” Beomgyu smiled back. “It’s nice, though.”

Soobin turned to order their drinks and then they slid into a booth by the window, sunlight spotting in warm patches across the table through the blinds. Soobin’s knee brushed his under the table and it took everything in Beomgyu not to flinch, his body hair standing on end at the faint contact. His feet drummed against the tiled floor but Soobin seemed content to sit in comfortable silence, peering out the window with a small smile playing at his lips.

“Why did you bring me here, Soobin?”

Because it wasn’t in his nature to skirt around the point, even when he was at his most nervous.

“Why not?” he mumbled, but the words felt hollow and it was more an attempt to dodge rather than explain. He looked closer to twenty-six than forty.

“I don’t want you to fuck with my feelings, okay?” Beomgyu said, miffed at having to even explain himself.

Soobin folded his hands together and placed them in front of him while cracking his knuckles. The sound was sharp in the otherwise gentle hum of the cafe, and Beomgyu found himself gripping his own sleeves tighter. Soobin was nervous too. That thought was oddly comforting and terrifying all at once.

“I don’t want to do that, Beomgyu,” Soobin said softly, almost pleading with him.

“But you will,” Beomgyu finished for him.

Soobin’s face twisted and he unfolded his hands to rub at his eyes behind his glasses, like he was trying to wipe the whole conversation away.

“I don’t know, fuck,” Soobin mumbled. He was clearly exhausted. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to organize my thoughts lately.”

“Why?” Beomgyu pressed.

Follow the thread, Soobin.

Soobin was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the dark wood of the table and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He seemed to think for a bit, as if choosing the right words to say. Beomgyu didn’t want that. He didn’t want neat, censored thoughts. He wanted his unfiltered emotions. 

“Soobin, I’m going to be honest,” Beomgyu sighed and leaned forward slightly. “We don’t even really know each other. There’s nothing to lose.”

“Beomgyu, you have to understand how hard it is for me,” he said desperately. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.” His hand ran over his face again, a shaky breath escaping him. “I’ve been separated for a while.”

Beomgyu stayed quiet, urging him to go on.

“A few years ago, I was in a long-term relationship and then I wasn’t. Yuna was kind of the only thing that held us together — he and I didn’t like each other all that much. But I was content with living that way. I was always trying to say the right things to make him feel loved, but wouldn’t get the same in return. He wouldn’t have meant it, anyway.”

Soobin spoke slowly, like something might crack if he said it too quickly.

The admission hung heavy between them. It made sense, the way Soobin always seemed a bit too guarded, a bit too careful with his words and actions.

“My partner refused to mate me. It’s been hard retraining myself to believe I could be happy alone with Yuna. And now I’ve been living my life monotonously, accepting I’m somebody who won’t experience that kind of connection. I was too old to look elsewhere, but young enough that it still seemed possible. I’ve always been hopeless at that sort of thing — both being a realist, but a romantic at the same time.”

He couldn't understand how someone like Soobin, so beautiful and gentle and good, could ever feel that way. 

“Then I see you,” Soobin continued and a sad, wistful smile curled at the corner of his beautiful mouth. “And you’re pretty and bright and bubbly, and I was obsessed with seeing you. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But I’m an old curmudgeon that would dampen that energy you have, and I went back to my old way of thinking. I wasn’t deserving of your attention or your gaze. I don’t know, it’s just my brain.”

Somehow, those words rang true. Beomgyu had felt that way his whole life.

“So why now?” Beomgyu asked. “What changed?”

“I was tired of not sleeping,” Soobin smiled weakly. “Lost the battle with obsession when you texted me, I think. Gave me an excuse to respond.”

“Soobin, you don’t need to give up on being happy because of your age, your past, or anything like that.” Beomgyu almost reached over to grab his hand.

Soobin only stared out the window, eyes unfocused and distant, like he was reflecting on something Beomgyu wasn’t privy to. Sunlight caught on his glasses and obscured his expression.

“I want to get to know you, Beomgyu. I do,” Soobin said finally.

“Then get to know me,” Beomgyu pleaded.

Soobin hesitated, eyes cast down to his hands before looking back up. “Okay. What is your biggest ambition in life?”

Oh.

Because that wasn’t a question Beomgyu was mentally prepared for. It required him to get a lot more introspective than he liked; to dig past the shallow desires and deflections he usually relied on. His throat went dry and his heart beat unsteadily.

“I think my only ambition has ever been to be happy,” Beomgyu admitted. “I think we’re similar in the sense that neither of us has found a real connection, so we’ve convinced ourselves we don’t deserve one. I’m not that jaded, not yet, but I probably will be if I keep living like this.”

Soobin nodded like he understood. A faint smile quirked at the corners of his lips. It was warm and a little sad, like a sunset fading too quickly. “You’re a lot more emotionally intelligent than I was at your age.” 

“When you’re unemployed, you have a lot more time to think,” Beomgyu laughed and took a shaky sip of his americano.

“Don’t spend too much time on that. Reflection is good, but it’s no use living in the past. Believe me,” Soobin said sincerely.

His beautiful eyes were so warm, like the dark chocolate he could smell in the kitchen. He stared at Beomgyu in a way that made him want to look away and hide from it.  The urge to reach for his hand came again and he wanted to tangle them with Soobin’s and feel that warmth for himself. But he stayed still.

“I have another question.” Quiet, like he was afraid of breaking whatever fragile thing lay between them.

Beomgyu nodded, “Hit me.”

“Why did you approach me that afternoon?” Soobin’s eyes were wide and earnest; like he was bracing for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

He didn’t have to think. It was terrifyingly simple.

“You were the most beautiful alpha I’ve seen in my life.”

For a moment, Soobin looked like a startled bunny. His eyes wide and lashes fluttering, a faint flush creeping up his neck. Beomgyu wanted to tell him but didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You can’t just say that,” Soobin mumbled.

“Well,” Beomgyu said while biting back a smile. “Why were you so desperate to see me? Or, using your words, obsessed.”

Beomgyu could see Soobin breathe deeply, almost willing himself to be brave. It was sweet, and so tragic. A man his age shouldn’t have to feel meek to express himself. Things should have been different for him.

“You were unlike anything I’d seen in a long time,” Soobin confessed at last. “Maybe ever. I knew you were gorgeous from the second I laid eyes on you, obviously, but I think your boldness interested me most.”

The words weren’t rehearsed or careful, they tumbled out roughly and fiercely. They were too real to be anything but the truth. It’s what Beomgyu had wanted the whole time.

“A tall, pretty omega approached me with a brash positivity, and I couldn’t be without it. It felt like I was siphoning you of your vibe unfairly. Like I was taking something I didn’t deserve.”

“That’s not—” Beomgyu started, but Soobin’s gaze lifted then with unguarded eyes and the words died on his tongue.

“It’s true,” Soobin said, gaze searching his face. “But I want to change that. If you can give me another chance”

Well, duh.

“Soobin, you know the answer to that.”

And Soobin’s lips pulled into the most extraordinary, uninhibited smile that almost stunned Beomgyu.

“Should I take you on a proper date this weekend?”

Kai and Yeonjun were supposed to be helping Beomgyu find something to wear for his date, but it was quickly turning into a fashion show for their own entertainment. Kai sprawled comfortably across Beomgyu’s bed, legs crossed at the ankles, while Yeonjun was elbow-deep in Beomgyu’s closet, tossing clothes left and right with too much enthusiasm.

His friends came over under the pretense that it would be serious ‘ Beomgyu is getting a man ’ business, but they insisted upon Beomgyu parading around in outfits they chose.

“It is serious,” Yeonjun said when Beomgyu pointed it out.

It had first been a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top: Yeonjun’s choice. And then, a skirt and crop top: Kai’s. When Beomgyu walked into the room he almost felt like hiding his legs, too exposed in front of his friends.

“Beomgyu, this is your time to finally look sexy. You are just going to waste this opportunity?”

Beomgyu tried to ignore the word finally.

He decided to wear something casual, because he was going on a date with Soobin tonight. It was at his house and it just made sense to be comfortable.

hot dad soobin

You don’t live too far from me.

me

i might as well move in with u!

hot dad soobin

How do you jump to conclusions so fast?

Kai had explained the whole story to Yeonjun in immense detail. “But yeah, you’d think he is hot.”

“And you said he is forty? ”

Beomgyu bristled, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Because there wasn’t and he was tired of people dramatizing it. He could make his own decisions.

Yeonjun and Kai seemed to take the hint and let it go, pottering around and stealing the snacks in his fridge instead. It was nice to have them here, wished he didn’t snap. His energy was just heightened by the anxiety that bubbled in his stomach.

They offered to drive. “Beomgyu, we can house-sit for the night. Just go, have fun, and drink a bit. If you end up not liking the guy, call us and we can come pick you up.”

Beomgyu highly doubted that would be the case.

So when he arrived at his house, it felt strange being back in Soobin’s kitchen, but not unpleasantly so. The space was warm and softly lit, the air was fragrant with garlic and cream. Beomgyu leaned against the counter and cradled the stem of his wine glass between his fingers, watching Soobin move with fascination and something else that he tried to shove down. Wine was probably not the best choice for tonight.

Soobin had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his strong forearms that were dusted lightly with spots that developed through time. His hair fell into his eyes as he stirred the pasta with more fervor than the normal finesse he exuded, brow slightly furrowed and lips pressed into a focused pout. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked, like the lead in a drama.

The wine in Beomgyu's glass glinted dark under the kitchen lights. He swirled it idly, trying to appear sophisticated despite not being much of a wine drinker at all. Maybe if he drank it casually enough, Soobin would see him as an equal rather than some bright-eyed kid who barely knew what he was doing.

However, the second he took a sip, the bitter taste made him grimace and he struggled not to cough. Soobin looked over at him and caught the reaction immediately, his eyes crinkled with laughter.

“You like it that much?” Soobin teased.

“Mhm,” Beomgyu forced out, eyebrows knitting together. “Lovely notes of, what is that… mulch, perhaps?”

Soobin threw his head back and laughed, the sound unrestrained. Beomgyu’s cheeks warmed involuntarily knowing he was the reason for it.

“Your palate is quite delicate,” Soobin managed between chuckles. “Top note of mulch, bottom note of — what do you think?”

“Something fermented.”

“They should hire you for wine tastings, you would introduce them with such grace.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t deny the fluttering in his chest at the fondness of his gaze “I think you just picked out my next job.”

The conversation melted into softly-spoken small talk. Each reply was punctuated only by the occasional clink of metal against ceramic and the simmer of sauce on the stovetop. Soobin filled the room so much that Beomgyu found himself leaning in just to be closer, to catch the low timbre of his voice when he uttered under his breath.

Especially when Soobin nearly burned the alfredo sauce. The edges darkened and Soobin cursed softly, brows knitting in irritation. His hand darted to lower the heat, movements wild, and  steam began to fog his glasses. Beomgyu bit back a smile; he didn’t particularly mind the idea of burnt sauce, not if it meant watching a flustered Soobin again.

By the time Soobin said that dinner was ready, Beomgyu hadn’t helped with anything beyond chatting and stealing glances. He moved to pull out his own chair but Soobin beat him to it, nudging him back with a gentle but firm hand. 

“Are we both taking turns doing that?” Beomgyu asked but his voice was more breathless than he intended. He wanted to be touched again.

Soobin placed an ornamental plate in front of Beomgyu, ceramic painted a muted blue with delicate floral patterns. The plate in front of Soobin was less refined, paint uneven and colors bleeding together, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I shouldn’t have even let you pull out my chair that morning,” Soobin said, sitting down across from him. “That’s my job.”

Beomgyu hummed, “Sorry, Mr. Alpha.”

Soobin’s grin faltered for half a second, surprise in his expression, then he breathed out a laugh and shook his head. “Don’t make me sound like that,” the tips of his ears were suspiciously pink.

“Like what?” Beomgyu said with a grin. He swirled his fork in his pasta but made no move to eat, eyes fixed on Soobin, as if challenging him. 

“Like I’m trying to alpha you,” Soobin grumbled, spearing a small bite of pasta. He took a bite, but his expression said he was unsure about the taste. “If I ever do that, just shoot me in the head.”

“It’s nice sometimes,” Beomgyu said. “I like whatever you do.”

His heart stuttered when Soobin’s gaze snapped up, eyes dark and searching.

“Yeah?” Soobin’s grin tilted, not quite a smirk, but something close. 

His eyes narrowed a fraction like he was trying to read between the lines, to see if Beomgyu was being serious or just teasing. The tension between them hung too palpable, woven into the ambience of the lamp behind them and the warmth of the kitchen. He fought to keep his fingers steady, but he faltered when Soobin’s knee brushed against his under the table.

He wondered if it was intentional, or he was just shifting his position.

Beomgyu tried to clear his throat, but when his voice came out it was all croaky. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Soobin’s gaze lingered for a beat longer, dark eyes glinting before he had the decency to look away. 

“Sorry,” he said, but the apology was unconvincing, especially when his eyes flicked briefly to Beomgyu’s mouth. It was a quick glance, but Beomgyu noticed all the same.

He didn’t actually want him to stop looking. The way Soobin’s eyes held his, like he was something worth admiring, was dizzying. But it also left him feeling too exposed and too bare, like every thought and feeling was written plainly across his face.

“How are you still single?” he blurted, aiming for playful but landing somewhere closer to whiny. “Single dad, hot and accomplished — you should have your pick of anyone you want.”

Soobin looked at him curiously, “Can’t I say the same to you?”

Beomgyu shrugged, swirling his wine just for something to do with his hands. “I’m single by choice. Why would I date and then mate for the sake of it? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Well,” Soobin said after taking another bite of his pasta that drew Beomgyu’s eyes to the full curve of his lips. He chewed thoughtfully, eyes never leaving Beomgyu’s, and then he smirked. “Same here.”

Beomgyu’s mind tripped over the implications, heart stumbling in his chest.

That meant that Beomgyu was special, he was the one Soobin had chosen. Out of anyone, out of everyone, it was Beomgyu sitting here in his kitchen, knees brushing under the table and flushed warm with wine. Whether or not he’d annoyed Soobin into it with his endless questions and nervous rambling didn’t really matter.

“So what you’re saying is that I was just too sexy to ignore.”

His eyes twinkled. Soobin’s voice wrapped each word in a ribbon of velvet, “Something like that.”

It was ridiculous how easily the things Soobin said affected him, how the simple inflection of Soobin’s voice was enough to turn his insides to hot lava. Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his core warmed, heat pooling low. He took another sip of his wine, hoping it would fan the haze in his mind.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

“How observant of you,” Soobin said and it was almost like he was talking down to him, a little degrading. It made him feel tingly.

He was about to boil over. Abruptly, “These plates are gorgeous.”

Soobin looked like he was snapped out of his reverie, smiling genuinely, confused. “I do wonder what your mind looks like, but thank you.”

Beomgyu ran a finger around the rim of the ceramic. “It looks handmade,” his eyes shifting up to catch the way Soobin’s smile turned a little wistful.

“Yeah, when my previous partner doesn’t show up for Yuna on the weekends, I normally take her out for lunch and do something fun with her.” He sounded fragile then, like he was peeling back a layer of himself without meaning to. 

Beomgyu decided he hated this person, whoever it was. Leaving Soobin to pick up the pieces, leaving Yuna waiting and full with youthful hope. It was infuriating.

“He just doesn’t come?” Beomgyu asked.

“Sometimes. It’s fine for me. Better, actually. But I know it hurts Yuna. It’s why I’m always at her beck and call. She needs to know she’s loved.”

There was so much tenderness in the way he spoke; so much fierce, protective love that Beomgyu ached by proxy. He could see it so clearly in his mind. Soobin sat beside Yuna on a small stool, hands coated in wet clay, guiding her fingers with endless patience. Still working hard, still always at the school gate every single afternoon. 

“She knows,” Beomgyu said softly. His eyes met Soobin’s, steady and sincere. “If there’s anything she knows best, it’s that you love her.”

For a moment, Soobin just stared. His stare held his like he was trying to memorize every detail of Beomgyu’s face.

“I’m glad you think so, and for what it's worth, you’re the best uncle Minji could have had. She really lucked out.”

Beomgyu didn’t necessarily agree — he treated Minji like a sister, he didn’t think he had much of an impression on her and even if he did, he wasn’t sure it would be a good one. He was the uncle who was listless and spent his afternoons gaming at his PC. 

“I’m kind of a bad role model,” he said. His eyes were fixed firmly on the red of the wine instead of Soobin.

Soobin, always inquisitive, “You think so?”

“It’s not like I have much going for me.” It felt easier to admit it like this, in the dim light of Soobin’s kitchen.

“You confuse me,” Soobin said, as if he were peeling back a layer of Beomgyu’s defenses with every word. “You’re so bright and so full of love to give everyone around you, and yet, you are so hard on yourself.”

The words were like a knife twisting in Beomgyu’s chest, and he had to look away, biting down on the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t fair how easily Soobin saw through him; how he seemed to know exactly which parts of him to touch.

He always had been. He was an emotional person who put more merit into how he was perceived than anything else.  He viewed the world with rose-colored glasses, finding beauty in the smallest things and forgiving faults without a second thought. And yet, he didn’t extend the same generosity to himself.

“I just have a very distinct vision for myself,” he confessed. “And I don’t think it’s possible at this point to bring it to fruition.”

Soobin put his fork down. The pasta had long since been untouched and forgotten, whether it was Soobin’s shoddy cooking or their focus on the conversation. Soobin leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on Beomgyu’s face with a kind of intensity that made him feel like hiding again.

“Why do you think that is?” Soobin’s voice was gentle. There was no judgment, only patience.

“I think I have so much ambition that sometimes it’s easier to do nothing at all,” Beomgyu admitted. “I grew up thinking I could conquer everything life had to offer, but there is so much to do. The amount of choices I had overwhelmed me to the point where I felt it was easiest to try everything. When I’m not good at something I normally give up, so you can see how that exhausted my options pretty quickly. It was like going to the grocery store, touching every pear to see which one was just the right firmness and then realizing the whole batch was bad.”

“It sounds like you were turned off by the fact that you had to live one life instead of multiple.” Soobin smiled at him and Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel endeared by the fine lines that creased his eyes as they turned into half-moons. “But I hope you know you have so much time to figure that out. You can live as many lives as you want, Beomgyu. Don’t give up.”

Beomgyu thought about how he chased Soobin, rejecting the idea of rejection and he realized he wasn’t the kind of person to give up, anyway.

“You know better than anyone I won’t be doing that.”

Soobin’s socked feet found his under the table and rubbed against the length of his, caressing, a broad stroke. “And I’m glad for it.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but tremble at the feeling. So simple, yet an open invitation for something more. 

So he took it.

His own foot moved slowly, sliding back to trace along the curve of Soobin’s, cautious as if to see something. When Soobin didn’t pull back, when he felt the flex of muscle beneath him, Beomgyu became bolder. He let his toes glide up, skimming the bone of Soobin’s ankle, tracing higher to where the fabric of his pants met bare skin. He could feel the span of his ankle to his calf, muscular and wide.

Soobin’s breath stuttered, lips parting as if to speak, but the words never came. His eyes were dazed behind the lenses of his glasses and the tension that had built was too much to bear; thick and heady, pressing in from all sides. He didn’t know how the briefest touch could elicit such need.

Neither of them moved to break the silence. They lingered in it instead, letting the heat of each other’s touch say what neither could — even though Beomgyu could, just as well. He let his hand dance across the table, fingers inching forward until the backs of his knuckles brushed against Soobin’s wrist.

Soobin glanced down and for a heartbeat he didn’t move. Then, as if finally allowing himself to do so, he did. He took Beomgyu’s hand in his, thumb smoothing over the knuckles, tracing the fine lines with a touch that was too tender. His fingers were warm and calloused, brushing along the nail beds with care that Beomgyu wasn’t normally offered by alphas in his past.

Beomgyu realized he was holding his breath because when he finally inhaled too suddenly, breaking the silence between them. His cheeks pinked, but Soobin only stared.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

There was no room to question whether he was being honest or not; everything was in his voice, so raw.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Beomgyu breathed.

Soobin’s hand moved to play with the thin chain around Beomgyu’s wrist. “Talk to me about it.”

But it was so hard when Soobin’s hands were wandering, when his voice was deep like that. He could barely organize his thoughts into coherent sentences. He leaned into it, shifting forward so more of his body could be felt. 

“Every time I see you,” Beomgyu started and he was already breathless. “It’s like something is pulling me toward you. I just want to be in your space and breathe in it. Is that weird?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned Beomgyu’s arm, exposing the underside of his wrist, and traced a path with the edge of his nails. He went up to the bend of his elbow and back down. The sensation was maddening, a light scrape that left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Beomgyu had to bite down hard on his lip to stifle any sounds that threatened to embarrass him.

“It’s not weird.”

“And then, every time you give me attention, I drink it in like I’m so fucking thirsty. I only want you to look at me.”

Soobin’s thumb pressed over the pulse point at his wrist, using just enough pressure to feel the way Beomgyu's heart beat for him. “And you’ll only look at me, right?”

“Only you.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or if that was just the honest truth. Beomgyu hadn’t felt this way before, hadn’t met someone he was attracted to like this.  From the moment he’d met Soobin, no one else had seemed to matter.

Soobin got up and walked over to Beomgyu. He had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes, moving to make room for him. But then Soobin’s fingers found his chin, coaxing it higher, and Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat. “Good boy.”

Soobin let his hand slowly run along his skin, his thumb finding the curve of his jaw. It slid upward, thumbing his cheekbone and then grazing the thick of his lashes. When he reached Beomgyu’s mouth, he pulled back for just a breath, then pressed down gently on his bottom lip, parting it with a sweep of his thumb.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.”

Then why didn’t you, Beomgyu thought. The words tangled in his throat and fell apart completely when Soobin’s thumb slipped past his lips, holding his thumb enough to keep him quiet. All he could do was look up at him, eyes wide and his breath shallow

“Such a pretty omega,” Soobin whispered.

Now that he was so close, Soobin’s scent was intoxicating. His sweetness was juxtaposed by how salacious his every move was. He felt himself leaking against the seat, he didn’t want to stand up and expose the puddle that was forming. He knew Soobin could smell it, too. His pupils were blown out and he looked like he was ready to eat him.

And he leaned down like he was going to, running his hand from Beomgyu’s mouth to his hair. He rested it on the back of his head and it swallowed it, so big that it encompassed the entire circumference. “Can I kiss you?”

Beomgyu nodded, thought that he did. He couldn’t really move.

But Soobin did it for him, only a breath away from his lips, hovering in proximity. Beomgyu’s big eyes met his and they stared at each other like that for a second, two. Then, their lips were connected and moving as one slowly. It was like his first time all over again; wary and delicate.

Soobin’s lips were smooth and dry compared to Beomgyu’s cherry chapstick lips, but they worked so well together. It was just like Beomgyu had imagined it would be; Soobin’s doll-like pout, pillowy and soft. He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip to see what it felt like, but he wanted to savor the romantic slowness of the kiss.

They slotted together easily as if they were made to be felt this way, breathing each other in. Beomgyu’s hands found their way to the front of Soobin’s shirt, fingers twisting in the cotton fabric. He tasted like the wine they’d been drinking, bitter and tangy, and Beomgyu greedily wanted more.

The hand that was in Beomgyu’s hair became tangled in it, gripping it from the root and tilting his head back so he could take more. Beomgyu let out a quiet sound that was muffled between their mouths as their kiss deepened. He could only hold his mouth open and let it happen. Soobin groaned as Beomgyu’s jaw slackened, letting him take over.

Soobin kissed at first like he was in no hurry, and then frenzied as the heat of it grew. It was sensory overload with his mouth on his, tongue lapping against the back of his teeth and the hand that wasn’t in his hair moving to unbutton his flannel.

He drew back, a string of saliva connected them. “Are you okay with this?”

Beomgyu answered for him by placing his fingers over the ones that were on his buttons, helping him pop one open.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Soobin strained. “Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself.”

He offered a hand and Beomgyu took it, legs shaky as Soobin helped him up. But before they could move, Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed a deep red and he quickly tucked the chair back in. The scent of sweetness hung in the air, unmistakable in its tart aroma.

Soobin stilled. “What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu averted his gaze. “Nothing, are we going to your room?”

But Soobin wasn’t listening. His eyes had drifted to the chair, to the glistening evidence left behind. He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “Oh, fuck.”

In a heartbeat, his hands were on Beomgyu’s waist and Beomgyu barely had time to gasp before Soobin’s mouth was on his again — rougher this time, all heat and urgency. And then Soobin was lifting him with strong arms, hands tucked under his thighs. Beomgyu’s legs wrapped around his waist, ankles hooking together as he clung to him, a whimper slipping out from the closeness.

“Soobin, shit,” Beomgyu whined. 

Soobin’s mouth moved messily from his lips to his jaw, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. His teeth grazed just enough to sting, then soothed the bite with a swipe of his tongue and a breath of cool air. Each tiny sound that slipped past Beomgyu’s lips seemed to spur him on, gripping his thighs hard enough to leave a mark.

They barely made it through the hallway, Soobin stumbling blindly with his face buried in Beomgyu’s neck. His breath was strangled and when his teeth caught the soft spot just beneath Beomgyu’s ear, Beomgyu choked on a high-pitched sound. 

His fingers twisted in Soobin’s hair and he growled, his mouth finding the thin scent inhibitor patch at the base of Beomgyu’s neck. He hesitated for just a second, just long enough for Beomgyu to feel the warmth of his breath against it. His lips brushed against the edges of it, always deliberating on the best course of action. Then he dragged his teeth over the patch, licking at it gently before sucking at the fabric like he could pull the scent through it.

“Take it off,” Beomgyu said desperately. “You can take it off.”

Soobin let out a shaky breath, hand flexing at Beomgyu’s waist. His glasses were slightly off kilter, and for a moment, he just stared like he was fighting to hold himself back. Then his fingers found the edge of the patch and he peeled it back.

The scent hit almost immediately, Beomgyu's lust hanging in the air, and Soobin’s teeth pulled on his bottom lip. 

“I’m going to try to be gentle, sweetheart. Tell me if anything is too much,” Soobin rasped.

And then his mouth was back on Beomgyu’s neck, so wet that trails of saliva were left in its wake. His tongue traced the skin around Beomgyu’s scent gland first and then directly laved over it, being rewarded with a strangled moan from Beomgyu.

Somewhere between the haze of lips and hands, they’d stumbled into Soobin’s bedroom. Beomgyu only realized it when his back met the cool of the wall. But Soobin’s mouth was still at his neck, tongue insisting and lips dragging down to his collarbones, leaving the world around them blurred.

He tried to focus: the photo frames on the wall, the neat stacks of books on the desk, the glow of a lamp casting light across the room. It was all beautiful, personal. Yet, the way Soobin’s teeth grazed his sensitive skin made it impossible to think of anything else. Each touch was a bright flare.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked.

Soobin pulled back immediately, eyes glazed. “Are you okay?”

“I want…” Beomgyu’s hands moved in a daze, pushing back Soobin’s head just enough to bare the long line of his throat. His fingers lingered at the collar of his shirt. “Yours.”

Soobin offered a weak smile. “You want to scent me?”

Beomgyu nodded meekly and used the edge of his nail to take it off. It was unlike any other time he had been in Soobin’s space. The smell of burnt brown sugar, a creme brulee, was staggering. It was clinging to every sense and if Beomgyu wasn’t wrapped around Soobin, he would have been weak at the knees.

Letting out a shaky breath, “Let me put you down first.”

He moved with surprising gentleness, carrying Beomgyu to the bed and setting him down with care that was in contrast to the hunger in his eyes. Beomgyu’s hands slipped from his shoulders reluctantly as Soobin pulled back.

He barely had time to catch his breath before Soobin tugged his shirt off and threw his glasses onto the desk. His mouth went dry at his lean torso, the lines that dipped under his waistband. Forty wasn’t old by any means, but Beomgyu could only hope he’d look half that good at that age.

Soobin climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the soft mattress, and leaned over him. He was close enough that Beomgyu could see the dark ring around his eyes from restless nights, the way his lashes cast shadows down onto it. His arms caged Beomgyu in and his palms pressed into the sheets on either side of his head. From this angle, he was devastating.

His mouth was red and bitten raw, the deep set of his dimples softened him — a boyishness that stunned him every time.

“You smell so good,” Soobin’s breath ghosted over his cheek. “Even better than I imagined.”

Beomgyu let his hands glide up the warm skin, up his chest and up his neck. He tugged Soobin down by the nape of his neck, mouth seeking his in a deep kiss. Soobin groaned into him, one hand sliding down to cup the back of Beomgyu’s lithe thighs, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

He felt it then, and it was so different to just seeing it. It wasn’t a secret that Soobin was big. He had assumed it from his overall height and gait, his easy attitude. But, it was another thing being pressed up against it. Beomgyu felt woozy.

“Soobin,” Beomgyu said breathlessly and pulled back from the kiss. “I feel like we need to talk about something.”

He looked confused but his eyes were wide like a doe as he nodded. He was in a daze, and yet he still said gently and immediately, “Of course.”

Beomgyu’s mouth felt dry. It wasn’t like him to get flustered. He was the type to tease first, to press close just to see the other person stumble. But being under Soobin, his broad shoulders and that warm scent that wrapped around his senses made it hard to articulate his thoughts.

“Can we take it slow?” 

Soobin’s expression softened at once and he shifted back, easing his weight off Beomgyu with careful hands. He tugged Beomgyu into his lap instead, settling him comfortably and sitting up straight. “Beomgyu, yes. Of course we can.”

Beomgyu's cheeks were burning, but he pushed on. “I’m sorry. I know you were getting into it and I don’t want to ruin anything. I just haven’t, you know, been active in a while.”

“Active?” Soobin was teasing him, but the fond amusement on his face soothed Beomgyu’s nerves. 

He wrapped his arms around him and buried his face against his bare skin so his words were muffled. “Shut up.”

“It’s okay,” Soobin whispered into his neck, pulling him tighter. “I haven’t had sex in a while either.”

Soobin’s hands traced soothing patterns along his back, using his nails to form small circles, hearts, words. He was everywhere — that calming sweetness. It eased the anxiousness that fluttered in Beomgyu’s stomach.

“Thank you,” Beomgyu said quietly.

Soobin pulled back so he could face Beomgyu directly, hand moving from his back to cup his face. The graze of his fingers against his cheekbone felt like meditation. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” he knocked his forehead against Beomgyu’s. “You don’t need to say sorry, either. We will go at your pace and do what you want to do. Just this has been enough for me.”

But Beomgyu didn’t want to stop. It wasn’t enough for him.

“Do you think we can just do other things,” Beomgyu’s fingertips moved tantalizingly up Soobin’s chest. The movement could have been mistaken as shy, but the way he looked up at Soobin from beneath his lashes wasn’t.

Soobin’s head tilted, staring curiously as he watched the path Beomgyu’s fingers took. “What do you feel comfortable with?”

Oh, no. He was really going to make him say it.

“You know…” he mumbled, the words trailing off into a huff.

He caught Beomgyu’s wrist and kissed it, right near the pulse. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“You can like,” Beomgyu paused. “Take off my pants.”

A laugh escaped Soobin, this time not so teasing — too affectionate to be mocking. “Yeah? You sure?”

Beomgyu nodded hurriedly. “Please.”

Soobin took the hint. 

His fingers dipped lower between them and brushed over the waistband of his pants and Beomgyu’s eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillow as Soobin lowered him with his other arm.

Soobin pressed a kiss to his lips, swallowing down the soft sounds that slipped free. Beomgyu hardly noticed when Soobin had finished, unzipping the fly and tugging at the hem. All embarrassment melted away under Soobin’s touch.

It was gentle, how Soobin touched him. Like unwrapping a fragile gift.

“Lift up, sweetheart.”

On shaky feet, Beomgyu lifted his hips so Soobin could peel his jeans off him. It was enough that he was baring himself to another person, but it was a whole other problem when he had to bite back a whimper at the dampness that clung uncomfortably to his inner thigh.

He tried desperately to ignore the slickness that had cooled there, the way his body had reacted to Soobin. The inhale Soobin took was impossible to miss, his hands pausing for the briefest moment before continuing their torturous path once more.

His eyes fluttered under his hot stare, fingers twisting in the knit of the blanket beneath him as Soobin leaned back with a half-lidded gaze. He must have felt the tremor as he held Beomgyu's knees.

“So sensitive,” Soobin breathed, his thumbs brushing circles into Beomgyu’s hips. “You’re doing so well.”

The praise made him mewl, which only made him feel more embarrassed. Soobin’s hands were already there, coaxing him back with delicate touches and whispered reassurances.

“Look at me,” Soobin dipped down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and it was sweet. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

It had been so long since Beomgyu had been in this position, vulnerable and bare beneath someone else’s hands. Even then, it had never felt like this. There had been no warmth, no lingering touches, no whispers of praise. Just a hollow sort of emptiness, a body to be used. For a while, he had convinced himself he wasn’t capable of wanting this kind of intimacy at all, of feeling it.

Until now, with Soobin kissing his way down his body, mouthing at the line of his collarbone before laving his tongue over a peaked nipple. Beomgyu’s back arched with a whine. His fingers found their way into Soobin’s hair, threading through the dark strands, catching on the few gray ones scattered between. 

Maybe it was never him. Maybe, for the other alphas he had been with, it was simply a skill issue. The thought sent a breathless laugh slipping out, half-choked.

Soobin chuckled, the sound vibrating against his chest. He pulled back just enough to look up, still tracing shapes on his hip. “What’s so funny?”

Beomgyu shook his head, biting his lip to keep from grinning. “Nothing, Just feels good.”

“Good,” Soobin nosed at the sensitive skin just above Beomgyu’s navel. “That’s the point.”

He dragged his lips lower, teeth scraping lightly over the dip of Beomgyu’s waist. His tongue followed it and licked at the curve. Then the praise came again, pressed into his skin with kisses.

“So good for me, beautiful. You’re perfect.”

Soobin looked at him like he was something intricate. Not just a body to touch, but something to be worshipped. And for the first time in a long time, Beomgyu thought he could let himself believe it.

“Please, hurry,” Beomgyu whined.

Soobin shifted himself so he could extend Beomgyu’s thighs a little wider, face hovering over where he needed him most. His breath ghosted over his inner thighs and Beomgyu couldn’t help but clench.

“Why hurry? We have all night.”

Beomgyu shivered, fingers fisting the sheets. It was a strange sort of vulnerability, being laid out like this; stranger still to have someone who didn’t seem in any rush to get it over with. No one else he’d been with had ever bothered much with foreplay, too eager to take without giving. Beomgyu had never been eaten out in his twenty-six years of living.

So having Soobin’s beautiful face between his legs, staring down at the lace panties Yeonjun had forced him to wear, was a new experience. They were stretched tight across his hips, thin and elegant and barely concealing anything at all. He couldn’t think about what he looked like when Soobin’s half devout, half predatory gaze turned the shame into something that he was sure was creating another wet patch.

“So pretty,” Soobin grinned as his fingers traced lightly over the lace. “It’s so unfair.”

“You — stop teasing,” he whimpered, a foot kicking Soobin in the ass.

“But you make it so easy,” Soobin laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to the inside of Beomgyu’s thigh. His lips dragged across the sensitive skin, “How can I resist when you’re spread like this only for me?”

Soobin’s fingers were unbearably gentle as they danced along the edges of the lace, giving more attention to where the fabric clung to damp skin. It was like he was playing with him, seeing how far he could take it before Beomgyu burst.

The humiliation was almost as dizzying as the arousal simmering low in his core. The lace was soaked through, clinging obscenely to his folds, and the thought of Soobin seeing him like this, smelling him like this… 

“Take them off,” Beomgyu whispered.

Soobin looked up at him with a pout, saccharine and oh so cruel. “Were you wet like this for me at the dinner table?”

This is mortifying.

“No,” he snapped, squirming. The protest was weak and warbled and the amused hum Soobin let out told him just how unconvincing he sounded.

“Really?” Soobin smiled. His finger swiped up slowly, pressing against his clit through his panties just enough to make Beomgyu’s thighs twitch, and yet not nearly enough to satisfy. “All this just because I touched your arm?”

Beomgyu whined and his hips moved toward the touch even if it was humiliating. His scent was a cloud in the air now — sweet and acidic, a hint of desperation. The muscles in Soobin’s jaw twitched as he took a deep breath and it made Beomgyu feel victorious that, despite his domineering demeanour, he was just as affected as he was.

“Sensitive,” Soobin purred as he used his thumb to rub gentle circles against the nub. “You’re shaking.”

Beomgyu gritted his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. It was enough to be spread out like this, trembling and exposed, without Soobin pointing it out like it was something precious. Soobin only chuckled, pressing another wet kiss to the inside of his thigh. It was like he had all the time in the world to watch Beomgyu suffer.

“Let me see how much you need it.” Soobin mumbled. His thumb slipped beneath the lace, barely brushing slick skin, and Beomgyu’s breath caught with a shuddering gasp. 

He peeled them down and lingered to watch the reveal. He tried to shut his legs, but Soobin caught them, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as if he had been caught.  The panties disappeared into Soobin’s back pocket, a casual motion that shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did. Beomgyu’s eyes couldn’t help but trace the outline of him, the way the fabric stretched around his bulge. 

But he was already leaning down and taking Beomgyu behind the knees, pulling him quickly up the bed to meet his face. He was staring, enamored. He dragged a finger slowly through the wetness gathered between Beomgyu’s thighs, watching the way he tensed and shivered. He brought it to his nose and then to his mouth, parting his lips to taste it. He took his time to savor it and Beomgyu couldn’t help but hide his face behind his arms.

“The prettiest pussy in the world,” Soobin breathed. “Tastes so fucking good, too. Tastes just like your scent.”

And that was all it took for Soobin to grab Beomgyu by the hips and ravish him. He dipped his head in and ran the flat of his tongue up his folds, collecting all the wetness that had accumulated there. He focused on his clit, flicking the tip of his tongue on either side of it.

Beomgyu couldn’t bear it. He clung desperately to anything he could grab, Soobin’s hair, the bedsheets, his nipples. He couldn’t help the loud moans that escaped him when Soobin used that pretty pout as a suction, sucking at his clit slowly. He pushed back with a pop and gave it a quick kiss.

He then moved down to his hole that still drooled slick, wetting the bed beneath him. “You’re so mouthy, I thought you’d be so noisy. You’re just fucked out.”

And he was; laying on the bed with his eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open. He tried to respond, but couldn’t find the words.

“Ah,” Soobin said, licking a stripe upward and then back to his hole. “It’s okay, beautiful. I know it just feels too good.”

Then his mouth was all over him, wet and messy as he grabbed his thighs and buried his head in his pussy, open-mouthed kisses everywhere. Beomgyu whined, loud and bitchy, which only served to encourage Soobin to keep going. He fucked his tongue in and out fast, looking up through his lashes to see his reaction.

Beomgyu arched his back, pushing his hips into Soobin’s face further. It made Soobin chuckle. “Not enough?”

“Fingers,” Beomgyu cried.

Soobin nodded, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He gathered some of Beomgyu’s slick onto his finger and lined it up with his hole, pushing it in slowly. It took getting used to, Beomgyu clenching around him desperately, needing something to keep him tethered. He guessed Soobin could see it on his face, because he immediately moved up his body so they were face to face.

Beomgyu wrapped his arms around his neck and stared into his eyes as he thrusted it in fully. It seemed silly, being so overwhelmed with a single finger, but Beomgyu could only fit two of his. And two of Beomgyu’s was only one of Soobin’s. His fingers were thick, knuckles even wider. He needed to relax.

“You okay?” Soobin kissed his forehead tenderly.

“Mhm."

Looking at Soobin was almost too sensual. His dark eyes were almost black in the darkness of the room, and his chin and swollen mouth were glimmering with his wetness.

He started to move at a steadier pace, rocking his finger back and forth. “How is this?”

Beomgyu could already feel his body get used to the intrusion, and felt himself opening up for him. “Faster.”

“That was quick,” Soobin smiled, fastening his pace and curling a finger upward to hit the sensitive spot inside of him.

Beomgyu mewled, arching his chest against Soobin’s. Soobin kissed the crook of his neck and left wet mark in his wake, all along his scent gland. The feeling that brewed inside of him was so foreign that he had to chase it by moving his hips in conjunction with Soobin’s finger.

“You want a second?”

Nodding, Beomgyu grabbed his wrist and took it upon himself to place his middle finger at Beomgyu’s entrance. It went in with resistance, and Beomgyu grimaced at the tight fit. Soobin took his time to scissor his fingers and move slowly to stretch him out.

“Look at you,” Soobin said with a sugary tone. “My omega opens up so nicely for me, I knew you would. Knew you were made just for me.”

Beomgyu’s breath caught as Soobin paired the curl of his fingers with a small press of his stomach, hand applying a soft pressure on his belly. It felt so good, Beomgyu could already feel the growing, numbing high approach.

The embarrassing squelch every time Soobin thrusted his fingers inside only intensified the feeling; in a stupor from the overstimulation of it, his heightened senses.

His fingers were so big inside him, he could only imagine how his cock would feel, how his knot would feel. He wondered if his load would still spill out of the sides, if there would be so much hot cum inside him that it had to leak around it. He wanted to ask Soobin to do it, to come inside him and stay there for a while. Soobin already had a kid, but maybe he wanted another one.

Soobin’s mouth crashed onto his with a frenzied heat, nipping at his lips, sucking his tongue. Beomgyu could feel him everywhere. Felt the coarse pads of Soobin’s fingers brush against his g-spot,and could feel his saliva on his tongue.

The moment Soobin’s mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of Beomgyu’s neck, right over his scent gland, everything else dissolved into white heat. The sudden pressure sent a shock through him, a strangled cry escaping before he could even think to cover his mouth. His body arched into Soobin's chest and they fit together so well he thought, only for a moment, this is fated.

Soobin’s fingers didn’t falter, thrusting deep and unrelenting, coaxing him through the waves with a focus that bordered on obsessiveness. The release was messy, splashing over his thighs and stomach, smearing against the sheets in a way that will be horrifying to see later. Beomgyu could barely string a thought together past the haze clouding his mind, every nerve still sparking with the aftershock.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, the rush simmering into a bone-deep exhaustion that left him shivering. Soobin eased him through it, movements slowing but never stopping, letting him ride out every last wave patiently.

“Sensitive,” Beomgyu grimaced, the word barely more than a rasp.

Soobin took his fingers out and smiled fondly; it made him look younger, unguared in a way that made Beomgyu feel a rush of affection for him. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now.”

Beomgyu had a feeling he wouldn’t agree with whatever Soobin was thinking — he felt sticky and dirty.

“Describe it then.”

Soobin only shifted, settling onto his side that left their legs tangled together. He propped himself up on one elbow, eyes sweeping over Beomgyu with intensity.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Soobin laughed, thumb brushing over his stomach. “All spread out on the pillow like a halo. Your eyes are tired and half-lidded. Looks like you’re already sleeping. And your lips, God, I used to feel like a pervert every time I caught myself staring. Tried not to, sometimes, but right now they’re so pink. Kiss-swollen.”

Beomgyu's face turned beet-red, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands or where exactly to look on his face. Making eye contact was now a task more laborious than most other things.

Soobin’s gaze dipped lower. “Your body’s all relaxed and your pussy is so swollen and wet, so fucking gorgeous.”

Beomgyu bit his lip. It was almost too much.

For a moment, Beomgyu wondered if Soobin really saw him that way, or if it was just the same rose-colored glasses he thought Beomgyu had — some illusion that would shatter if he looked too closely. Yet, the way Soobin touched him felt like it all meant something so much more.

“You’re beautiful,” Soobin said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

He didn’t have the words to respond, not when his throat felt so tight and he was so exhausted. So he settled closer to Soobin, leaning into his warmth. Soobin took him in his arms and caressed his back slowly.

“Don’t get too comfortable, I’m going to clean you up.”

Beomgyu groaned, but Soobin laughed. He let his hands graze Beomgyu’s shoulder blades once more, featherlight, before he pulled away to head for the bathroom. The sudden absence made him feel cold and, unfortunately, he never wanted to feel it ever again.

When he returned, the lamp light cast him in its glow, shadows curling in the depths of his features. Beomgyu’s eyes lowered by accident, catching on the bulge straining against his pants. He looked away quickly and tried to ignore the gleam of guilt that rested in the pit of his stomach. The white-hot need that was settled right next to it.

“Soobin,” he started. “Do you need help?”

Soobin paused, towel in hand, and blinked like the question was the most absurd thing he’d heard all day. The corner of his mouth twitched as he crossed back to the bed, sitting on the side and curling a gentle hand around Beomgyu’s calf. They ran up and down the length of it, making shapes, gripping him softly.

“Not at all,” Soobin said. “This will go away soon, don’t worry about it.”

Beomgyu caught the way Soobin’s knuckles were white where they gripped the towel. He swallowed and parted his legs just a fraction wider despite the embarrassed voice in the back of his head.

“I can, you know. I’m good at it.”

Soobin looked at him with a slow grin spreading across his lips. “And I’m sure you are.”

His touch was light, careful to avoid pressure on any spot, yet thorough enough to wipe away the stickiness clinging to Beomgyu’s thighs. The towel was so warm that he allowed himself to fall into the relaxing feel of it, eyes shutting.

When the towel brushed over his still sensitive folds, he sucked in a sharp breath, thighs tensing. Okay, not as relaxing.

“You know, I never expected you to be so shy.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, “I told you it’s been a really long time. And it’s only our first time doing anything like this, of course I’m shy.”

Soobin paused, looking at him intensely, and then it passed as quick as it came.

Something twisted in Beomgyu’s stomach, he knew it was bad to look into things, especially after Soobin had made him feel so good, but it was easy to overthink when you were naked in somebody's bed.

“Are you okay with me sleeping here?”

Soobin was already getting up to rifle through his drawers, for his own pyjamas and some for Beomgyu. “Of course. Since Yuna’s at my mom’s, she’ll take her into school in the morning. We can take our time until I have to leave for work.”

He turned and tossed a t-shirt and a pair of boxers onto the bed. They were a soft, well-worn fabric that smelled of jasmine and something so distinctly Soobin. Beomgyu hesitated, fingers feeling the tender domesticity woven into the fabric..

Beomgyu turned his back to put on the oversized t-shirt even though Soobin had just seen him naked. The hem fell past his thighs and Beomgyu could only pray he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt. Soobin’s eyes traced the line of bare skin still exposed between the hem of the shirt and the boxers that were loose on Beomgyu’s hips.

He swallowed, fingers tugging at the hemline. “What?”

“Nothing,” Soobin said, high-pitched. “You just look good in my clothes. Really good.”

Beomgyu unmade the bed, setting the pillows down gently at the end of the bed. He tried to ignore the wet patch in the middle, hoped Soobin wouldn’t have to see it when he did the laundry. He pulled back the blankets and slid in.

The mattress dipped as Soobin crawled in beside him, the room sinking into shadows when he reached over to switch off the lamp. In the dark, everything felt closer: Soobin’s warmth radiating beside him, the rhythm of his breathing, the faint scent of him in the sheets.

It was too much — being here, in Soobin’s bed, where he slept and dreamed. 

Soobin moved, laying with a sigh, and the blankets rustled between them. His voice was faint in the dark, a warm whisper that sent a shiver down Beomgyu’s spine.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Soobin’s hand slid over until his fingers were lacing through Beomgyu’s beneath the covers. It was firm enough that Beomgyu couldn’t pull away even if he tried.

In the dark, with Soobin’s hand tangled with his and their legs brushing beneath the blankets, it was easy to pretend this was something more. That it was the beginning of something. Somehow, it didn’t seem like he needed to pretend.

“Goodnight,” Beomgyu whispered back. His fingers squeezed, just barely, and Soobin’s thumb traced a slow line over his knuckles in response.

And for the first time in a long time, Beomgyu felt content enough to fall asleep early.

Morning light poured through the window, casting patterns on the walls. The room was warm, hazy with the scent of the tea Soobin was brewing and Beomgyu found himself sinking into the routine with an ease that startled him. He pulled Soobin’s borrowed shirt lower on his legs, fingers tracing the hem as he watched Soobin move around the kitchen.

Soobin handed him a mug without a word, their fingers brushing for the briefest moment. The heat seeped into Beomgyu’s palms and he ducked his head to let the steam blow against his cheeks.

They settled into a comfortable rhythm. They sipped tea and told each other about their day ahead. The conversation was simple, an effortless trade between the both of them. It was the kind that didn’t demand much.

And when Soobin laughed, there was a tenderness that beat against his ribs. This was the kind of morning that felt rewarding. Beomgyu sipped his tea and listened to the comforting monotone of Soobin’s voice and thought that he could get used to this. This could be his future.

That maybe this ache in his chest, the quiet yearning, wasn’t something he’d have to carry alone. Maybe he didn’t have to keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It was that thought, soft and hopeful in its romance, that stayed even after he’d pulled on his clothes and left Soobin’s house. The walk home was quick, the chill of the air barely felt over the warmth that remained inside of him. Even the silence of his apartment didn’t feel so heavy when he unlocked the door. Beomgyu did nothing all day and let the hours melt together as he replayed the morning in his head, every glance and touch. 

When Beomgyu pulled up to the school that afternoon, he was already bursting out of his skin. The parking lot buzzed with noise and the shuffle of shoes on pavement, but his focus narrowed to a single point. The familiar figure of a tall man by the gate.

Soobin stood a little apart from the crowd, the late sunlight catching in his hair. It was ridiculous, really, the way his heart stuttered at just the sight of him. But it was hard not to feel a spark of pride, a secret sort of satisfaction, at the thought that Soobin was his — even if the word felt too big, too soon.

Beomgyu wove through the crowd, lips tugging into a smile. “Soobin!”

But Soobin didn’t turn.

The smile faltered for only a breath, but Beomgyu pushed forward, closing the distance until he was near enough to catch the span of Soobin’s shoulders and the way his gaze stayed fixed on the front doors of the school.

“Hey,” Beomgyu tried again, soft and quieter this time.

Soobin’s eyes looked up from his phone; the glance was brief and almost dismissive. He gave a small nod, lips pressed thin.

The shift was so stark. Cold in a way that didn’t fit with the warmth Beomgyu had woken up to that morning. It knocked the air from his lungs. “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Soobin’s eyes shut and his jaw tensed. Then, without a word, he turned and started back toward the car, leaving Beomgyu standing alone with his hair blowing in the rough wind chillingly and his fingers trembling by his side.

The second rejection settled deep and heavy, like skipping stones against still water, rippling outward until all Beomgyu felt was a hum in his ears. It was almost pathetic, how quickly his hopeless dreams turned cold, how a single look unravelled everything Beomgyu thought they had built in the past twenty-four hours.

It was like a sandcastle; grains of sand being knocked by whitewash.

He swallowed and forced down the brick lodged in his throat, but it was too late to chase away the ache that had already rooted itself in his chest because the school bell rang with a soft ding.