The word was a soft whisper, yet it struck Do-hyun with the force of a physical blow.
Alpha.
It wasn't a question or a plea; it was a recognition, a fundamental truth spoken by a body and a mind in a state of primal need. Jaemin's hand pressed against Do-hyun's chest, his fingers splaying wide as if trying to feel the truth of the word, a quiet confirmation of what his instincts already knew. The haze in his amber eyes was an invitation, a surrender, a quiet promise of everything that Do-hyun had been fighting all day, because he didn't want to take anything that Jaemin, while fully conscious, wasn't ready to give.
But all the barriers Do-hyun had so carefully constructed—the tightly shut door, the eucalyptus inhalers, the clenching fists, his plans to get food and a brief respite—were now under heavy assault. It was too much, too difficult, to remind himself that conscious consent had not been given, when the omega himself was standing before him in his most primal, vulnerable state, beckoning to him, a wordless call to the depths of his being that his alpha instincts strained to answer.
A low, desperate groan rose in his chest, a sound of pure longing and need. His hands, which had been tightly clenched once more at his sides, now rose as if by their own will, his fingertips brushing Jaemin's waist, the worn cotton of the rumpled shirt doing nothing to hide the feverish heat of his skin.
Jaemin tilted his head, his lips parting a little more, and the cherry blossoms exploded around them again, a concussive blast of scent that made Do-hyun's vision swim. He closed his eyes, inhaling the sweet, potent perfume that was a part of Jaemin himself, a scent that was meant for him, and him alone. Every instinct, every fiber of his being screamed to pull Jaemin into a deep, claiming embrace, to soothe the frenzied, aching need in his own body. He wanted to bury his face in Jaemin's soft curls, to taste the sweetness on his lips, to consume this beautiful, intoxicating scent until it was a part of his own essence.
Jaemin's hand slid from his chest, his fingers trailing upward to curl around the nape of Do-hyun's neck, his touch feather-light yet devastatingly potent. Do-hyun's breath hitched, his own hand tightening on Jaemin's slim waist. He teetered on the edge of control, so close to giving in, to losing himself entirely to this sweet, perfect maelstrom of desire.
As if sensing his resistance, Jaemin tugged gently, lifting himself lightly on his toes. Slowly, unhurriedly, he raised his face to Do-hyun's neck, the tip of his nose ghosting against the scent gland under his jaw, eliciting a hissed inhale from the alpha, who was now trembling with the tension of herculean restraint, his entire mind focused on holding himself back.
Don't, he commanded himself. Kang Do-hyun, don't you dare.
Then, there was the touch of soft, impossibly soft lips on his neck; the tickle of warm, sweet breath fluttering against his skin; and the gentle, whispered call, again:
Alpha.
The very next moment, he was crushing Jaemin into the pastel cushioning of the sofa, kissing him with the desperation of a drowning man coming up for air.
And Jaemin was kissing him back, soft and pliant in a way that he'd never been before with Do-hyun—always guarded, inhibited, careful about letting go too much. Now, his slender, graceful fingers were curling and grasping in Do-hyun's dark hair, pulling him closer, and closer still, as if wanting to engulf him completely until there was nothing separating them.
Rendered unthinking except for the urge and chase of primal instinct, Do-hyun growled, a low commanding rumble in his chest, and hummed in approval when the omega's mouth opened obediently to grant him entry. A breath in of the intoxicating cherry blossom scent and all remnants of any coherent thought were lost in the storm of sensation, the heat from Jaemin's feverish body pressed against his own, and the yearning alpha need flooding his senses.
Urged on by the low, aching moans of the man under him, his hands tightened on Jaemin's waist, pulling the omega flush against him. When a firm roll of his hips had Jaemin clutching at him, gasping breathlessly as his slender body arched, a growl of appreciation thundered again in his chest. He released the omega's soft lips, pulling back just enough to mouth along his jaw, planting a trail of kisses along the silken curve of Jaemin's neck, his exploration of the milky skin sending an electric current pulsing through every limb, every inch of skin, every nerve, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Claim him, his alpha whispered. Make him yours.
Distantly aware that his fangs had extended, long and sharp, he tightened his fingers on the shirt fabric of the omega straining underneath him, uncaring of the pop of buttons as he yanked it out of his way.
If not for the surge of possessive desire overriding everything else, he would have noticed the growing presence of a different, discordant note, something sharp, smoky, and bitter; something that didn't belong, twining together with Jaemin's cherry blossoms like ivy. Instead, he dove deeper, instinctively searching out that sacred spot on the omega's nape that would bind them together for the rest of their lives.
And then he saw it.
Two jagged half-moon scars, the skin a shade paler, a ghost of a wound that had healed into the permanent brand of another alpha's claim.
A bonding bite.