Chapter Text
Huang Xing stood under the spray of the shower, resting his forehead against the cool tiles. The humid air in the bathroom was thick with the scent of orchids and something sugary. The unmistakable, sweet tang of an Omega’s heat. He cursed his own scatterbrain. He’d been so excited for a date with his best friend at the new arcade in the city center, that he’d completely skipped his morning dose of suppressants. By the time he realized it, he was already halfway dressed, and the slick had just happened starting to leak and ruin his favorite pair of jeans.
There was no other choice after that but to shower again and clean himself up throughly. He wasn't surprised to hear his phone, sitting on the vanity, begin to blare a high-energy K-pop song a few minutes later, a sign that someone was calling. He didn't even have to look to know who it was.
"Hey," Xing answered, pressing the speaker button with a wet finger. "I know, I know. I’m late."
"Late is an understatement, Xing-Xing," Qiu Dingjie’s voice crackled through the speaker, sounding more amused than annoyed. "I’ve been standing outside the station for twenty minutes. Are you even out of the house?"
"I'm in the shower," Xing admitted, scrubbing his face. "I'm so sorry, Qiu. I forgot my dose today. I ... uh, I leaked. A lot. I had to jump back in to wash up and change."
There was a brief, loaded silence on the other end of the line. Xing and Dingjie had been inseparable since they were toddlers. They’d navigated secondary school, growth spurts, and their secondary genders together. Dingjie was the only Alpha who knew exactly how to handle Xing’s moods without making it weird.
Or so, Xing thought.
"You leaked?" Dingjie’s voice dropped an octave, losing its playful edge.
"Yeah. It's a mess. I’m taking the pill now, so I should be fine in a bit. Just give me—"
The call suddenly cut out. Xing frowned at the phone, wondering if the signal had dropped in the bathroom. A second later, the phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn't a voice call.
The screen was flashing with a video call request.
Xing stared at it, his heart doing a strange little flip. He glanced at the glass shower door, which was fogged up but definitely transparent enough to show a silhouette. "Is he serious?" he muttered, before sliding the 'accept' button.
The screen filled with Qiu Dingjie’s face. He was leaning against a brick wall, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, looking every bit the effortless Alpha. His eyes, however, were narrowed and intense as they scanned the background of the video.
"QiuQiu! I'm literally naked!" Xing yelped, though he kept the camera pointed strictly from the collarbone up.
"You said you were having a crisis," Dingjie said, his gaze fixed on Xing’s flushed, damp face. He wasn't laughing anymore. "I wanted to make sure you weren't fainting. You look ... really pink, A-Xing."
"It's the hot water," Xing lied, his voice trembling slightly. Even through a screen, the focused attention of his best friend felt like a physical weight.
"Is it?" Dingjie smirked then. A slow, predatory tilt of the lips that made Xing’s knees feel like jelly. "Turn the camera down. Let me see how much of a mess you made."
Xing’s breath hitched. "You’re a menace. I’m hanging up!"
"Don't you dare," Dingjie chuckled, his voice vibrating with a low, Alpha hum that traveled right through the speaker. "Hurry up and get dressed. Or, stay there. I can be at your front door in ten minutes."
Without answering, Xing ended the video call with a trembling hand. The image of Dingjie’s smirk burned into his retinas. He scrambled out of the shower, his skin still humming from that low Alpha frequency in Dingjie’s voice.
He worked fast. Dragging a soft, oversized sweater over his head. Anything to hide the fact that his body was still reacting to the thought of Dingjie being ‘ten minutes away’. He swallowed his suppressant pill with a gulp of cold water and leaned against the sink, waiting for his heart rate to stabilize.
He didn't even get the ten minutes.
A heavy, rhythmic thud echoed through the apartment. The sound of the front door being unlocked with a spare key. Xing froze. He’d forgotten he’d given Dingjie a key years ago for emergencies.
"A-Xing? You decent?"
Dingjie’s voice wasn't coming from the phone anymore. It was right outside the bathroom door.
Xing cracked the door open just an inch, peering out. Dingjie was standing in the hallway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The cool air of the outdoors still clung to his leather jacket. But, it was his scent that hit Xing first. The orange blossom with a hint of addicting rum, intensified by the Alpha’s focused intent.
"I told you I’d be ready," Xing managed, his voice sounding thinner than he liked.
Dingjie didn't move. He just looked at Xing, his eyes tracking the way a stray drop of water rolled down Xing’s neck and disappeared into the collar of his sweater. "The suppressants take twenty minutes to kick in, Xing. You’re still loud."
"Loud?"
"Your scent," Dingjie stepped forward, closing the distance until he was chest to chest with the bathroom door. He leaned down, his nose brushing against the wood right next to Xing's ear. "It’s everywhere. You didn't do a very good job washing up."
Xing’s grip on the door handle tightened. "I tried. I was rushing because someone was badgering me on video."
Dingjie chuckled, a low vibration that Xing could feel in his own chest. "I wasn't badgering. I was supervising." He reached out, his large hand covering Xing’s smaller one on the doorframe. His skin was warm, a sharp contrast to Xing’s damp chill. "Do you actually want to go to the arcade? Or are you going to spend the whole time worrying about people looking at you?"
Xing looked up, finding Dingjie’s gaze. There was a protective spark there, something possessive that usually stayed buried under years of friendship. "I want to go," Xing whispered after a while. "But ... I don't want anyone else to smell me like this."
Dingjie’s eyes darkened. He leaned in closer, his lips inches from the sensitive scent gland on Xing’s neck. He didn't bite—they’re not in a relationship which could casually do that—but he let out a long, slow breath that sent shivers racing down Xing’s spine.
"Then stay close to me," Dingjie murmured, his voice a commanding velvet. "I’ll scent your clothes. If I’m all over you, no one else will dare get close enough to notice."
Xing’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. "Is that your way of asking to cuddle before our ‘date’?"
"It’s my way of making sure everyone knows who you’re with," Dingjie replied, finally pulling back just enough to flash that devastating, boyish grin. "Now, get your coat. I’m not waiting another twenty minutes."
Huang Xing sighed, then rolled his eyes in playful annoyance.
They were always like this. At least, as long as Xing can remember. People called them ‘childhood sweethearts’ at High School. Then, they were called ‘the power couple’ at College. People judged the way they talked, teased, bicker, and cared for each other like one does in a secure marriage life. But, in reality, they are just friends. Best friends, to be exact. One that is protective over the other. Well, perhaps a bit too obsessive for a label ‘just friend’.
And if Huang Xing’s heart skipped a bit every time they’re around each other, or the way Qiu Dingjie’s eyes lingered a little too long at the way Huang Xing’s small waist move, it could be valued as a simple alpha-omega’s basic pull toward each other. Nothing more, nothing less.
***
The subway ride to the arcade was a test of endurance. Usually, they sat side by side with a comfortable gap between them. But today, Dingjie was a living wall. He stood directly over Xing, one hand gripping the overhead rail, while the other rested firmly on the small of Xing’s back, pulling him into the protective alcove of his body.
Every time the train jolted, Xing’s nose pressed into the lapel of Dingjie’s jacket. The Alpha’s scent was overwhelming. Thick of musk, steady, and dominant. It acted like a secondary suppressant, quieting the frantic heat haze in Xing’s brain. Even as it sparked a different kind of fire in his gut.
"You’re staring," Dingjie rumbled, looking down. His thumb began a slow, rhythmic stroke against Xing’s hip.
"I’m just ... trying not to fall," Xing lied, his face heating up.
Dingjie smirked. "Sure you are."
The arcade was a sensory overload of neon lights, clattering tokens, and the mixed scents of dozens of people. Usually, this would be a nightmare for an Omega whose suppressants were still fighting a losing battle against his heat. But Dingjie was relentless.
While they played some kind of zombie shooting game, Dingjie didn't stand at his side of gun toy. He stood behind Xing, reaching around him to control the height level of the gun Huang Xing was holding. His chest pressed flush against Xing’s back.
"Qiu, I can't breathe when you do that," Xing complained, though he made no move to push him away.
"I’m helping you win," Dingjie murmured into his hair.
The show of their PDA of course gathered attention like usual not long after. An Alpha nearby, lingered a second too long behind them. His nostrils flaring as he catches the faint, sweet trace of Xing’s orchids underneath Dingjie's heavy rum.
Dingjie didn't even look up from the screen. He just tightened his grip on the gun. His posture shifted into something jagged and dangerous. He let out a low, warning huff. A sound so primal it made the stranger immediately jump in place and quickly continue his walk.
Xing, who just happened to watch the scene from the reflection in the screen, and felt the vibration of the growl through his back, murmured in embarrassment. "Was that necessary? He was just walking past."
"He was looking," Dingjie said, his voice dropping into that dark, possessive register again. He finally let go of the gun and turned Xing around in the narrow space between the machines. The neon red light of the 'Game Over' screen bathed them in a hazy glow.
Dingjie leaned down, his face inches from Xing’s. "I told you, Xing. I’m the only one who gets to be this close to you when you smell like that. Are you done playing games yet?"
Xing swallowed hard, his hands reaching out to bunch the fabric of Dingjie’s leather jacket. The arcade was loud, but all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. "I think ... I’m hungry now?"
Dingjie growled under his breath. Huang Xing wasn't the only one feeling hungry right now. They should have gone home.
However, all he could say, as someone who only had the label of ‘friend’, was a grumble like, "Alright. Let's go find a quiet restaurant with a private room. Don't want another bastard smelling you like a creep."
Huang Xing immediately nodded while biting his lower lip. Because, if anyone deserved to be called a ‘creep’ right now, it was himself—who could feel the slick start to drip down again after seeing the possessive glint in the alpha's eyes before him.
***
The restaurant was discreet, tucked away in a quiet alley. The private room was tucked away at the end of a corridor. Designed for customers who wanted privacy, away from people’s judging stares. Inside, the space was intimate. Two soft benches facing a polished wooden table, with dim, warm lighting that felt a bit too cozy for two best friends just grabbing a late lunch.
Xing was struggling. The walk from the arcade had shaken his composure, and the air-conditioned room was doing little to cool the heat rising in his cheeks. His post heat suppressants were clearly losing the battle against the sheer proximity of Dingjie’s thick, grounding orange scent.
There was a polite knock before the door slid open. A male waiter, an Alpha with a lean build and a crisp uniform, stepped inside. His scent was faint, something like dry pine, and he carried himself with a quiet, professional confidence.
He stood at the end of the table to take their order. But as Xing started to speak, the waiter’s focus shifted slowly. He held his digital pad in one hand, yet his eyes didn't stay on the screen.
He looked at Xing. It started as a professional glance, but it stretched a second too long. Then, another.
He stayed silent as Xing stuttered through a request for iced tea, but his gaze was busy. He watched the way Xing’s fingers trembled as he pointed at the menu. He lingered on the damp hair at Xing’s temples. The waiter’s nostrils flared in a slow, deep inhale. Discreetly catching the sweet, honeyed scent of orchid that was beginning to perfume the small room.
The waiter didn't make a move, but he was lingering, standing just a few inches closer to Xing's side of the table than was necessary.
Xing felt the weight of it. The silent, heavy attention of another Alpha. It made his skin crawl with a sudden, sharp spike of awareness. He shifted uncomfortably, his voice trailing off. "And ... and the spicy noodles, please."
Dingjie had been leaning back, looking relaxed, but he didn't miss the way the waiter’s eyes were tracing the line of Xing’s throat. He simply asked, "Is there a problem with the order?"
His voice was perfectly level, but it had a jagged, metallic edge that sliced through the waiter’s focus. Dingjie didn't wait for an answer. He reached across the table and placed his hand flat on the wood, right next to Xing’s arm. It was a casual gesture. Just a friend leaning in. But as a fellow alphas, the waiter could see a clear, territorial boundary when he sees one.
The waiter finally snapped his gaze to Dingjie. He saw the Alpha's narrowed eyes and the way Dingjie’s bitter scent had suddenly turned sharp and aggressive, like a warning flare.
"No, sir," the waiter said, his voice tightening. He took a half step back, recognizing the warning sign Dingjie had just sent his way with a terrifying intensity. "Everything is clear. I'll have those out shortly."
He bowed slightly and retreated, closing the door behind him with a soft thud.
The silence that followed was heavy. Xing let out a breath he’d been holding, his heart racing. He looked at Dingjie, who was still staring at the closed door, his jaw set tight.
"Qiu?" Xing whispered. "You're ... you're leaking pheromones. A lot of them. You’re going to set off the sensors."
Dingjie turned back to him. His expression softened instantly. Though the protective fire hadn't fully faded. He forced his shoulders to truly relax, shaking his head.
"Sorry," Dingjie muttered, reaching for his water glass. "He was just ... taking forever. I’m hungry, and you look like you’re about to melt into the floor. I just wanted him to hurry up."
Xing watched him, heart still thumping. Dingjie was playing it off as impatience, but the way he was still hovering near Xing’s arm suggested otherwise. "Right. Impatient. Definitely not because he was staring at my neck for three minutes."
"I didn't notice," Dingjie lied poorly, taking a long drink of water. "Anyway, the noodles should be here soon. You okay? Your scent is ... it's getting a bit heavy for someone who has taken a suppressant."
“I’m fine,” Xing answered. Still watching Dingjie’s every move with calculated eyes. Noticing very clearly how the alpha switches the conversation between them.
The food arrived ten minutes later, delivered by a different beta server who kept their eyes strictly on the floor. The artificial calm mask was back on, but the air in the room remained thick and pressurized, the lavender neutralizers in the vents clearly struggling to keep up.
Xing poked at his spicy noodles, the steam rising to hit his face, but his appetite was nonexistent. Every time his chopsticks clicked against the bowl, he felt the weight of Dingjie’s gaze. Across the table, the Alpha wasn't even pretending to eat. He was just watching Xing, his shoulders broad and set.
"Qiu," Xing said softly, breaking the heavy silence. He put his chopsticks down and looked up, his eyes searching Dingjie's. His pulse jumped under his collar for the upcoming question that has been gnawing underneath his skin for the past few minutes. "Do you always do this? To your other Omega friends? Do you just mark the air by instinct every time a waiter looks at them a second too long?"
The question hung in the air, sharp and pointed.
Dingjie’s fingers tightened around his water glass. He looked away for a split second, watching the shadow of a passerby through the frosted glass of the private room’s door, before his gaze snapped back to Xing.
"That's different," Dingjie rumbled.
"How?" Xing pressed. "You’ve gone to cafes with Song Huacheng. You’ve been to the library with Gao Tu. I’ve never smelled you turn the air into a wall of orange and rum just because someone glanced their way. So ... is it a biological reflex, or is it just me?"
Huang Xing doesn’t know why he asks that kind of question to his best friend like some kind of a jealous lover. Maybe it was the atmosphere between them, or just a simple curiosity. Perhaps, it was the heat that’s craving an Alpha’s utmost attention toward him.
But instead of mocking him, Dingjie sat forward. His presence suddenly looming over the small table. "The others aren't sitting across from me with failing suppressants, Xing," Dingjie said, his voice dropping into a low, vibration. "And the others don't smell like this."
He gestured vaguely to the space between them, where the sweet, honeyed scent of orchids was being aggressively swirled into his own dark rum.
"It's an Alpha’s instinct to protect someone who is ... vulnerable," Dingjie continued, though the word felt inadequate. "If I’m doing it more with you, it’s because you’re more important. You’re my best friend. That’s just the logic of it. Don't overthink."
Xing bit his lip, his face heating up. "I'm not overthinking. I'm just noticing that your 'instinct' seems to be very specific today."
"Maybe I just don't like sharing my lunch hour," Dingjie muttered, finally picking up his own chopsticks as a way to end the conversation. "Eat your noodles, Xing. Before they get cold, I have to call that waiter back in here to replace them."
Xing laughed nervously, but as he turned back to his food, the tension remained. Dingjie had given him a logical answer, but the heavy, possessive hum still vibrating through the room told a completely different story.
Xing watched the steam curl off his noodles. His heart hammering against his ribs as he decided to push, just a little more, against the ‘best friend’ barrier Dingjie had reinforced.
"You know," Xing started, his voice deceptively casual, though he was carefully tracing the rim of his noodle bowl with a fingertip. "It’s actually a bit funny. We’re adults now, Qiu. Fresh out of college. Back then, I remember even our juniors were already spending their heats with different Alphas. It’s a pretty normal step, right?"
Dingjie’s chopsticks froze halfway to his mouth. He didn't look up, but the line of his jaw turned to granite.
Xing swallowed hard and kept going, his voice gaining a bit of nervous momentum. "I was thinking ... since my suppressants are clearly struggling today, maybe I should stop fighting it. Surely I could find a compatible Alpha to spend my next heat with? It might actually be better for my health than over medicating."
The sound of Dingjie’s chopsticks snapping was the only thing that broke the silence. He dropped the splintered wood onto the table and slowly looked up, his eyes darkened to a shade Xing had never seen before. Something deep, primal, and entirely focused.
"A different Alpha?" Dingjie repeated. The words were quiet, but they felt like a physical weight pressing down on the room.
"I mean, theoretically," Xing stammered, his bravado wavering under that gaze. "It's a biological process. If I’m as vulnerable as you say, finding a partner to help me through it is just the logical—"
"If you really want to spend your heat with an Alpha," Dingjie interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerous vibration of subdued anger that made the glass of water on the table tremble. He leaned across the table, his shadow falling over Xing, effectively caging him against the back of the velvet booth. "And if you were that curious with one ... spend it with me."
Xing’s breath hitched, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs he was sure Dingjie could hear it. "QiuQiu ... what are you—"
"Let’s just finish your noodles," Dingjie said, his tone shifting into something terrifyingly calm and decisive. He stayed close enough that Xing could feel the heat radiating off his chest. "We’re going to finish lunch so we can go home, and I’m going to take care of you."
"And by taking care of you," Dingjie rasped, his scent of bitter rum becoming an absolute, suffocating wall around them, "I mean, I’m going to go down on you until you’re shaking. And then I’m going to push a few of my fingers deep inside you, so you can finally stop guessing and feel exactly what it's like to be filled by an Alpha."
Xing’s eyes widened in shock. His entire body went hot. A sharp, liquid ache blooming in his lower abdomen at the sheer bluntness of the promise.
"Eat," Dingjie commanded softly, his eyes never leaving Xing’s. "The sooner you're done, the sooner we leave." []