lucky you

by sacrificio

Summary:

Jongseong isn’t stupid. He’s a specialist in wolf-human behavior. One of the very few in the country who can identify and interpret certain behaviors in the species like one breathes.

But he is only human, after all.

Notes:

omegaverse as written by someone who doesn't really like omegaverse except for the scent stuff so if you like traditional omegaverse don't go in expecting much. this was supposed to be a porn with plot fic but i think it turned out to be more plot with porn...

as always i was on my i-just-made-some-bullshittttt beast mode writing this.

thank you a and v for beta reading this for me!! what would i do without you!! :3

enjoy!

A new e-mail notification makes Jongseong’s phone buzz on top of the coffee table.

He blinks at the laptop, surprising himself with how long it has been since he decided to sit down to get at least some work done for the afternoon. Not that he got a lot done in the past few hours, but at least he wasn’t doomscrolling instead of being a responsible and functional adult. Granted, a single new notification breaks him out of his deep focus and he immediately reaches for his phone, but when he reads who the sender is, he believes he should be forgiven for his having-a-fried-doomscrolling-brain crimes.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, clumsily typing in his password after face identification doesn’t work. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” 

He opens the e-mail app and reads who the sender is one more time just to make sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. After sending in his required documentation, a handwritten letter explaining his need for a visa, his research project, plus going through an interview with a government official over two months ago, there hasn’t been a single day where he goes to sleep without checking his inbox. Jongseong should have figured the federal government wouldn’t give his long-awaited response in the middle of the night, but regardless, he is now shaking as he taps on the message in the middle of a chilly Wednesday.

“My visa has been approved,” he says to the walls of his empty apartment.

There are other things in the e-mail, of course, such as the address where he can pick up his passport in the next few weeks and listed reasons as to why the government deemed regular Jongseong worthy of this visa, but all he can focus on is the approved message. He never lost hope he would be approved per se, but Jongseong has seen too many colleagues in the same field who had their visa denied, or colleagues who waited for this exact e-mail for so long they had to improvise to continue with their research despite the circumstances, so he couldn’t not prepare for the unfortunate possibility. Mentally, mostly, but also professionally.

But now he doesn’t have to worry about any of that. Because his visa got approved.

“I gotta tell… I gotta…”

Jongseong taps on Sunoo’s name in his contact list, the only one who would probably pick up a call on the first try. Ignoring his own foot tapping insistently on the floor, Jongseong perks up when he hears his friend’s confused greeting on the other end of the line.

“My visa got approved,” he says again, now to an actual person. Jongseong waits in silence for all of three seconds before he hears excited screeching. “Yes! I know!”

“Wait, oh my— Jongseong hyung’s visa got approved!” Sunoo says, mouth away from the receiver. Someone gasps dramatically in the distance. “Yes! He’s on the phone— hey! You should at least ask if you can—”

“Jongseong-ah, no way,” says Sunghoon, voice higher than usual. Jongseong laughs. “Have you picked your passport up already? I didn’t even know these things got approved in less than three months for regular humans.”

“Honestly, yeah, I was expecting a longer wait.” Jongseong runs a hand through his hair like it will help him absorb reality better. He laughs again, almost hysterical. “I think I got lucky with whoever was responsible for checking my documentation. I’m going to try to pick up my passport tomorrow.”

“I know a professor who moved there years ago. He offers housing for other researchers visiting the town,” Sunoo adds, voice a little distant. “I can give you his e-mail. He’s a little closed-off at first, but if he can tell you’re passionate about our field he opens up pretty easily.”

“Yeah. Yeah, thank you so much. Shit…” Jongseong stares at his laptop, the half-written phrase he abandoned to check his phone staring at him. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been eyeing train tickets for months, I can’t believe I get to buy them now.”

“Make sure to clear your cache before you do,” Sunghoon says. “Train tickets to a town anyone rarely ever leaves or visits are already expensive, you don’t need to spend more on this.”

“Right. I’ll remember that.” Jongseong snorts. “Sunoo, text me the professor’s e-mail. I should probably organize this trip to get there in early February at least…”

“February, of course,” Sunoo says with a childish giggle, and Sunghoon follows. “I’ll text you. Let me know of anything else, yeah?”

Jongseong hangs up the call soon after. He runs his hands through his hair again, smiles at the ceiling, and finally gets up from his spot. Now that the most difficult part of his research has been dealt with, he can afford to take a little moment to celebrate this achievement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A warning flashes on Jongseong’s screen. He takes his glasses off, hoping to be able to rub the fatigue out of his eyes, and squints at the words being yelled at him as he’s about to click on the last button to buy his train tickets to the eastern town in the mountains.

 

STRICTLY FORBIDDEN ITEMS ACROSS THE BORDER:

CIGARETTES, CIGARS OR ELECTRONIC CIGARETTES (“VAPES”);

PERFUMES OF ANY KIND;

SCENTED SOAPS OF ANY KIND;

SCENTED DEODORANTS;

SCENTED LOTIONS OF ANY KIND;

ANY TYPE OF INDUSTRIALLY SCENTED OBJECTS SUCH AS INCENSES, CANDLES, HAND SANITIZERS, ETC.

 

“I refuse to believe anyone who goes through the trouble of getting this visa would be stupid enough to bring any of that,” Jongseong whispers to himself in the darkness of his bedroom.

He checks the box where he states he agrees with having any possible scented items taken from him upon inspection at the train station and proceeds to the next page. Jongseong buys the train ticket departing from Seoul for February 1st and the return ticket for March 20th. Should be enough time for him to do what needs to be done. If not, at least he isn’t going to be the one to pay for the new train ticket he could hypothetically buy — that’s also why he doesn’t even flinch when the rather expensive purchase goes through.

Ever since Jongseong’s visa got approved by the federal government, he has been busier than ever. Endless e-mails exchanged with the professor offering a place to stay, in-person meetings with the head of the Anthropology Department, and more endless e-mails exchanged with the head of the university — or, well, his secretary. The man clearly doesn’t care much about the details of Jongseong’s research, but he cares about the fact that Jongseong is the first person (in general, not just one of the regular humans) to write about this specific topic, which extendedly makes the university a pioneer in the area. Good for the university, good for Jongseong. Funds approved.

“I’m going to miss you,” Sunoo says, kicking his feet back and forth from where he’s sitting on top of a desk. Jongseong glances at him, snorting at the confession, and barely flinches when Sunoo punches his shoulder. “I mean it, okay? They say phone and internet reception are terrible across the border. You’re going to be there for almost two months!”

“You’re going to be fine,” Jongseong mumbles, staring at the hundreds of surveys being printed out in the tiny anthropology department’s office. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Bring us souvenirs, Jongseong-ah,” Sunghoon says from the couch, feet propped up on the armrest. Jongseong and Sunoo share a look and roll their eyes at the same time. “They should have those over there. Wolf fridge magnets. Wolf keychains. Wolf, uh, bottle openers. Heh. Or would they make them half-wolf, half-human souvenirs?”

“I don’t think they care enough about the very few tourists they get every year to make those,” Jongseong mumbles.

“That’s a shame,” Sunoo says. Jongseong frowns at him, confused, and he shrugs. “What? I kind of want half-wolf, half-human souvenirs now.”

All bundled up at the train station on February 1st, Jongseong thinks of his friends and how he is probably going to miss them after all. The security guard goes through his luggage in relative silence, sniffing every closed container he finds, asking Jongseong what is this and what is that with the patience of a saint who is clearly used to his work and is very rigorous in his inspection. The line behind Jongseong isn’t long, anyway. Not many people are boarding the train to cross the mountainous border, especially not at this time of the year when it’s unreasonably cold.

He observes the few passengers around him when he’s finally inside the train. Lots of them are wearing masks, which Jongseong knows is common for the scent-sensitive subspecies he quite literally studies for a living; some others either don’t care much about the industrialized scents of regular human life, or they are, much like Jongseong, regular humans visiting the mountainous town.

The old lady sitting across from him is probably a resident, he muses. Her clothes don’t have the industrialized quality of the polyester Jongseong sees frequently in big department stores in Seoul, and the weaves in her sweater seem to be handsewn with care rarely seen in the big city. An attendant passes by them, and the old lady pulls down her mask to reveal a smile that confirms Jongseong’s suspicions: she has sharp fangs that have rounded with time and use, a common trait of their sibling subspecies that reminds him of what he is about to do.

It’s a shame Jongseong left the surveys he printed in his luggage. He could get a headstart on his interviews right here, when he has some time to spare inside a mostly empty train. Jongseong picks up the book that inspired this whole research and reads it in silence for the rest of the trip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The professor Jongseong has been contacting, a man in either his forties or fifties named Lim Heungchan, is waiting for him when he arrives at his destination. Jongseong waves at him rather stiffly, and he walks up to the man while pulling his gloves off his hands for a proper handshake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir,” Jongseong says, bowing at a low angle. “Sorry for the inconvenience of…”

“It’s no problem at all,” Heungchan says, smiling at him. “Let me help you with your luggage.”

Jongseong is apologetic about the amount of things he brought on this trip, but Heungchan reassures him saying it’s more than justified to bring so much to a town in the mountains. Once everything is loaded in the car trunk, Jongseong jumps in the passenger seat and listens attentively to what the professor has to say: about the slower pace here compared to life in the big city, and how they’re located in a pretty central area, which means they will likely see younger people or regular humans more often.

Despite being a central area, however, Heungchan only drives for around five minutes before smooth asphalt is replaced by dirt, uneven roads, and Jongseong holds tightly to the leather of the car seat. Rows of tall trees turn the pale blue sky of late morning into a path of timid shadows, until he finally sees a clearing and Heungchan slows down to park in front of a big wooden cabin.

“Here we are,” Heungchan says.

In this field, Jongseong has come across the nerds that are more interested in the botanical wonders of a town adamant on not allowing greedy regular humans into its society, so he’s heard a lot about the beauty of the trees growing here. Seeing them right in front of his eyes, however, is a whole other spectacle. He jumps out of the car, almost dumbstruck by the view, and breathes in the pure scents of nature. Behind the wooden cabin, and behind the row of smaller cabins surrounding the bigger one, he notices a large, untouched lake. Jongseong is only brought back to reality when he hears Heungchan struggling with his luggage, and he blushes, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Jongseong mumbles, helping the professor with his own things. “I got— I mean, you don’t always see stuff like this living in Seoul.”

“I know exactly what it feels like,” Heungchan says with a humorous huff. Jongseong takes  the bag from his hand and tries not to show in his face how heavy it is. “Wait until you see the view from your cabin. You don’t ever get used to stuff like this.”

They struggle to walk to the first cabin right next to the bigger one, the soil rather soft after it rained a couple of days ago according to Heungchan. They kick their heavy boots off right at the entrance to avoid covering anything inside with mud, and when Heungchan opens the door, Jongseong breathes in the almost unfamiliar smell of earth and wood.

The interior is cozy — there is a kitchen in one corner, something resembling a living room in another, and a wide bed on the other side. In the back, sliding doors lead him to a balcony that has a privileged view of the lake he saw earlier. A large fireplace separates the kitchen from the living room, and there is another door in the back that Jongseong can only assume will take him to a bathroom. Everything is rustic, from the tapestry to the furniture, but there is a modern touch to it that tells Jongseong this was not built too long ago.

“When I first started making the trip to the mountains to do research on our sibling subspecies, the most difficult part was finding a place to stay,” Heungchan explains, pushing his feet into slippers right by the door and pulling Jongseong’s things inside. “They don’t like tourists at all. They don’t have inns, or hotels, or anything of the kind because they want us to know we are not welcome into their society. And they can smell us, you know, even though we can’t smell them. Finding someone nice enough to offer a place to stay is already hard, and it becomes harder if you smell intimidating.”

“So you built these for other researchers to have a place to stay?” Jongseong asks, and Heungchan replies with a hum. He pushes his feet into another pair of slippers, taking a look around. Everything is squeaky clean despite its rough appearance. “That’s awesome. How long…?”

“Close to ten years,” Heungchan says with a smile. They place Jongseong’s things in a corner, stopping in the middle of the cabin. “Not an easy path, but worth it regardless. Most people visit during the summer, though. Winter is quite unforgiving around here.”

“I’m well aware.” Jongseong laughs a bit awkwardly. “But they got a lot of their habits and mannerisms from wolves, and having a mating season around this time of the year is one of them. I figured it would be smarter for me to conduct my interviews now.”

“I’ve read your letter explaining your idea. Makes sense for you,” Heungchan says with a smirk, slapping Jongseong rather strongly on the back. He quickly drops it, saying: “Now, you probably have a scheduled meeting with the mayor. Want me to drive you there?”

“Yes,” Jongseong says, nodding. He’s relieved to get into action quickly. “I’m going to have to do a lot of walking in the next few weeks, so if you could show me around town too, I’d be happy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongseong gets a printed-out research license from the mayor so he can show it to residents in case they are skeptical of his intentions, which is likely to happen, especially in the inner parts of the city where the older population is more difficult to approach. He’s advised to mostly stay in central areas if he wants more cooperative people, but once he’s out of the mayor’s office, Heungchan says difficult isn’t impossible and lets Jongseong take the car to explore further into the town. Jongseong thanks him quietly and pays attention to his surroundings on the quick trip back to the cabin.

The reception in the city is, in fact, horrible. Data is nonexistent. Internet only works if it’s connected to either a laptop or a computer, and there is no cable in Jongseong’s cabin, which means he either has to go to Heungchan’s place or walk to the only thing reminiscent of a PC Bang in the city that closes as soon as the sun sets to have access to online civilization. He’s left with calling people in the evening, but he can only do that when he’s outside the cabin, otherwise he won’t be able to hear or say much. Needless to say, his mother immediately notices when Jongseong’s teeth start chattering in the middle of their conversation and tells him to go inside. With frozen fingers, Jongseong ends up simply sending a regular text message to Sunoo to let him know everything is going well so far.

He will admit that he already enjoys the slower pace of this city more than the hectic life in Seoul, though. Jongseong hasn’t felt sincere disinterest in his phone in years, not to mention how well he sleeps at night. He wakes up in the early morning the next day to Heungchan knocking on his door and offering breakfast before he gets started with his interviews, and they eat in mostly companionable silence. Jongseong goes through the questions in his survey, then explains how interviews are to be conducted, and Heungchan says he would love to read Jongseong’s research when it’s published, making Jongseong smile, thankful.

The first couple of days of interviewing are, to say the least, exhausting. Not only because he walks from door to door, pushing past his shyness to introduce himself, telling residents what he does and what he wants from this research, but also because even younger people aren’t very comfortable with answering his questions. He is met with hostility more often than not, and when he tells Heungchan about it, almost hoping to hear some advice on how to deal with this, all he gets in response is a hearty laugh and a sorry, kid, they really are kind of difficult. 

Out of the hundreds of surveys Jongseong printed out, he thinks he only manages to distribute about ten of them during those first couple of days. He also has an uncomfortable encounter with a female omega who agrees to an interview and very openly sniffs him and tells him he smells — in her words — very fertile, which he knows is a compliment coming from their sibling subspecies, but it’s rather intimidating to be stared at like a piece of meat in what he would consider a professional setting. He promises to be back another day to collect the survey after he is done with his job and leaves before she can strip him of his clothes with her eyes alone.

“She started, like, baring her neck,” Jongseong speaks into the receiver, walking from side to side on the balcony of his cabin while staring at the sun setting behind the lake. Sunoo guffaws on the other end. “Never thought this would happen to me. At least I collected some good responses from her.”

“But, hey, you’re not thinking of the other important part of this interview…” Sunoo says, humming. “If she was a female omega basically begging you to have sex with her, doesn’t that mean they perceive you as an alpha?”

“I guess,” Jongseong grumbles. He feels heat creeping up in his face and wraps his arms tighter around himself. “I probably shouldn’t have visited during mating season after all. They wouldn’t care that I’m technically an alpha to them if they weren’t so horny and ready to procreate.”

On the third day, Jongseong gives up walking and borrows Heungchan’s car because his calves are killing him. He goes back to some houses to collect surveys, visiting a few more in hopes to get more interviews, then he tries his luck again with the ones who rejected him but weren’t too hostile. Jongseong goes back to the cabin with a little more optimism in him this time around, and he sits down in front of the fireplace in the evening to read what he’s collected so far.

Heungchan convinces him to take a couple of days off to explore the more scenic parts of the town too. They go on hikes, they visit waterfalls, and Jongseong even gets to try snowboarding for the first time in a while after it snows quite heavily. The distraction is welcome, and Heungchan reminds him again of the different pace — he isn’t in Seoul. He doesn’t have to rush this. If he needs to stay a little longer in town, then be it, because the five thousand residents aren’t going anywhere any time soon.

Once he’s back to conducting interviews, Jongseong starts crossing out names in the list of residents the mayor provided him, as well as streets in the map he also got from the mayor. With the cap of the marker stuck in between his teeth, Jongseong notices he’s done with every residence in the central area. He could go back to a few of them to try to convince them to participate in his research a third time, but that sounds rather unproductive to him.

He stares at the map in silence. After some deliberation, he sucks a breath in.

“I should go east first,” he whispers to himself in the silence of the cabin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

If the central area of the town makes Jongseong feel as if he is permanently stuck in a society that never got their hands on technology built past the early 2000s, as soon as he takes Heungchan’s car to go to the eastern zone, he imagines he’s getting a taste of what it felt like to be alive before the 1980s.

The stack of surveys in the passenger seat stares at Jongseong and asks him what exactly he is expecting from this part of the town. There is a reason it took so long and required so much effort for him to get his visa, and there is a reason serious — and good — studies about this subspecies are so limited. They do not want any type of contact with regular humans. Their society does not work the same way regular human society works. They are hostile for a reason, and it’s to prevent regular humans from destroying a civilization so old that the scientists who waste their lives away in the genetics field have yet to fully understand how a subspecies of humans who behave like wolves was even created. 

Jongseong stops in the middle of an empty road and rests his forehead against the steering wheel, wondering why he chose this career, why he chose such a hyper-specific field where his name will be at the center of discussions for years to come when he could have gone into good old business. God, he could have gone into business. He could own a store, or even a restaurant now, which, sure, sounds very stressful, but he wouldn’t go through the humiliation of having an old lady baring her tiny fangs at him when he’s only trying to do his job.

He thinks of calling Sunoo, but phone service is basically nonexistent in this area of the town. A car so old passes by him that Jongseong almost convinces himself all of this is a horrible dream. He breathes deeply for a couple of minutes, calming himself down, and only then does he pick up the map from the backseat. Jongseong finds the name of the street he’s at right now, parks the car where he presumes is the very beginning of said street, and then gets out with his stack of surveys carefully stored in his faithful vintage-brown messenger bag.

The first couple of houses give him the expected reaction. An old man telling him he has no interest in either an interview or keeping the survey, then an old lady doing the exact same thing. The third house keeps the survey at least, but only because a relatively younger person gets the door. Jongseong hears loud complaining coming from the inside about nosy humans and their need to invade their society, but decides that is not his problem anymore.

By the seventh or eighth house — who knows, he’s starting to lose count —, Jongseong’s mouth is already dry and he has his speech perfected at the tip of his tongue. He knocks on the door. He waits. He is met with yet another old lady who hides half of her face behind said door and grunts at him as a vague greeting. Jongseong puts on the best smile he can muster on his face.

“Good morning, ma’am. My name is Park Jongseong and I am a human researcher…”

He tells her the same thing he’s told everyone since he arrived in town. The university he works at, what he is researching, whether she would be down to have an interview with him or answer a survey he can pick up again at a different date. She stares in silence for long seconds, and Jongseong starts doing mental bets with himself about what’s coming next: either a simple rejection, or the more aggressive rejection of being hissed at. He would very much prefer the first one.

For the first time, however, he hears a:

“Wait here.”

She closes the door in his face, which normally wouldn’t be good, but she told him to wait, right? He hears voices coming from inside the house, though not loud. He hears clattering, too, but it doesn’t sound outright concerning. Jongseong is almost peeking inside through the open curtain to see what’s going on when he hears the door opening again and he rushes to stand straight.

This time, he doesn’t see an old lady. Jongseong sees a young man.

A very good-looking young man. With big, cat-like eyes, a strong nose and thin, but well-defined pink lips.

Jongseong has to physically rewire his brain to go back into friendly researcher mode this time instead of naturally slipping into it.

“Good morning, uh, sir. My name is Park Jongseong, and I am a human researcher from Seoul,” Jongseong says, extending a hand in the young man’s direction. Nothing happens. Jongseong clears his throat and pulls his hand back. “I’m in town in hopes of getting a better grasp of how sexual attraction works between your kind. Would you be available for an interview? It doesn’t have to be now, if you are busy. And if you are not comfortable with a direct interview, but wish to participate, I can leave a more concise survey with you and pick it up another day.”

Jongseong stands there dumbly at the door and waits for a response. He’s ready for yet another rejection when he sees the corners of the young man’s lips going up in a smile, and he tilts his head to Jongseong’s right.

“See that house over there?” The young man asks. His voice is rather high, not quite as intimidating as his gaze. “That’s mine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

There’s a very specific type of relief that comes with not being rejected that makes all of the bones in Jongseong’s body malleable. As soon as the young man — gently! — closes the door in his face, Jongseong stares up at the sky and thanks whatever entity for meeting at least one willing person in the whole street. He walks to the smaller house right next to the first one, noticing how they are both connected by a wall, but stops snooping around once he hears the handle turning.

The young man is there. Not a mirage. Completely real. He takes a deep, deep breath and exhales slowly, staring at Jongseong up and down.

“Come in,” he says, leaving the door open. “Leave your shoes outside.”

The interior of the house is quite similar to Jongseong’s cabin. There is no sliding door in the back, and the walls aren’t made out of wood, but the size is nearly identical. It’s cozy too, and blessedly warm. Jongseong starts taking off his coat, holding his messenger bag close to his body.

“Want some tea?” The young man asks.

Jongseong takes the opportunity to observe the vast amount of containers stored in shelves above what he presumes is a stove. He notices there is a unique smell of burning wood in the air, and when Jongseong makes eye contact with the young man again, he remembers he was asked a question. He shakes his head, and the young man smiles.

“You can sit down in one of those chairs. I’ll be there soon.”

It’s almost unnerving to have his back turned to the owner of the house while he secretly rakes his eyes over the rustic furniture. Jongseong is left to wonder why he lives alone, since the old lady he saw earlier clearly doesn’t live here, and if it has anything to do with wolves and their territorial nature. He is almost coming up with a way to sneak a question like that into his regular questionnaire when the young man appears in his field of vision again, sitting down in the only other empty chair in front of the fireplace, facing Jongseong.

“I haven’t come across one of you scientists since I was a teenager,” the young man says, taking the cup of tea to his lips and blowing on it lightly. It smells strong, but Jongseong figures it’s not an industrialized scent that irritates their sensitive noses. “Sorry about my grandma, though. She’s not very fond of humans.”

“She was way nicer than a great majority I’ve met so far,” Jongseong says with a smile. The young man never stops staring, or breathing deeply even, and it’s starting to intimidate Jongseong. He clears his throat and pulls both his voice recorder and a compact notebook from his bag. “I take it you are okay with me conducting an interview with you. I’d like to record our conversation to go over later in case I forget to write anything down. Please, if you could introduce yourself.”

Jongseong presses ‘record’, leaving the device on the small table separating them, microphone turned away from him. Another deep breath, and the young man relaxes in his chair.

“Introduce myself how?” He asks.

“Name, age, gender and subgender,” Jongseong says, pressing the tip of the pen to his notebook.

“My name is Yang Jungwon. I am twenty-eight years old and a male alpha,” the young man, or, well, Yang Jungwon says. “What else?”

“Well, Jungwon-ssi, as you already know, my name is Park Jongseong. I am an anthropologist with a specialization in wolf-human behavior, focusing on certain psychological aspects of your species, such as,” Jongseong says, smiling politely, “sexual attraction, and how wolf-humans navigate it. For a long time, humans accepted that there were physical attributes that separated omegas from alphas, like size difference, physical strength, voice depth, et cetera, and those were the main determinants for sexual attraction in your species. How, uh, bigger people tend to be alphas, and they also look for smaller omegas to potentially procreate with, and vice versa.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that,” Yang Jungwon says with a smile.

“There are a lot of more recent studies that show that size, physical strength or voice depth are not a consequence of one’s subgender. Those physical attributes could influence their behavior, and their behavior is what determines their subgender,” Jongseong explains his train of thought carefully, gaining confidence as Yang Jungwon nods along. “I believe that wolf-humans are not primarily attracted to physical attributes the way humans are, but rather someone’s behavior. And one’s behavior determines their subgender, which is, on a first impression, easily identifiable by their scent.”

Jongseong waits. Yang Jungwon encourages him to keep going with another light nod.

“So my theory is that wolf-humans are primarily attracted to scent, rather than physical appearance,” Jongseong finishes off, heart beating rapidly in his chest. “I am conducting interviews to either prove this correct or discard this idea entirely. I have a few questions…”

Jongseong stares at Yang Jungwon after his long monologue that was probably quite boring for someone who lives all of that in the flesh. Like being a kid and rushing to tell an adult that, who knows, it hurts when you fall on the floor. Yeah, duh. They knew that already. Yang Jungwon nods one more time, giving Jongseong the permission he needed to go ahead with the interview.

“So, Jungwon-ssi.” Jongseong licks his lips. “You said you are a male alpha. Are you unmated or looking for an omega?”

“Unmated. Not looking.”

“Oh.” Jongseong looks up. Yang Jungwon hasn’t moved. Jongseong frowns, writing it down. “Were you ever looking? If yes, what did you look for in a potential mate on first impression?”

The room falls silent. Jongseong stares at his rushed scribbles for all of two seconds before he gives Yang Jungwon his undivided attention again, though the smile has finally slipped off the wolf-human’s face. Dread courses through Jongseong’s veins. There’s no way he got this far only to be kicked out in the middle of an interview, right? Yang Jungwon breathes deeply again.

“Park Jongseong-ssi, I apologize,” he says, and there it is. Jongseong thinks he’s going to cry in the car and then drive back to the cabin for today. This is too much. “I don’t think I am exactly what you are looking for when conducting your interviews.”

“I’m sorry, but did I say something wrong?” Jongseong asks. His shoulders slump, while Yang Jungwon gets more defensive. “I understand if you don’t wish to participate in the process anymore, but I would like to understand what I said that prompted this.”

Yang Jungwon pauses. “You’re correct. We’re primarily attracted to scent instead of physical appearance. There’s nothing wrong with what you said.”

What, Jongseong thinks, blinking at Yang Jungwon. What did he say wrong, then? Jongseong carefully places both pen and notebook on top of his thighs, opening and closing his mouth trying to figure out what to say now, all while Yang Jungwon only stares at him.

“I don’t get it,” he whispers, finally.

Yang Jungwon places his tea on the small table, right next to Jongseong’s recorder. He sits back in his chair again, breathing so deeply it’s making Jongseong too aware of his own smell. He thinks back on that female omega he interviewed — if he’s supposedly an alpha, then maybe Yang Jungwon doesn’t like his… Alpha presence? In his home? Jongseong closes his lips in a thin line, waiting. Yang Jungwon opens his mouth again.

“You want to understand what an alpha looks for in an omega they potentially want to mate with, and vice versa,” he says, pausing in between words. “That’s the more common behavior for our kind, but it’s not something I resonate with. I believe I won’t be of any help in your research in this case.”

Another long pause. Jongseong smacks his lips open. “Do you not plan to mate with someone?”

“I don’t plan to mate with an omega.”

Jongseong is suddenly aware of the fire crackling to his right. He stares at Yang Jungwon, who stares right back but doesn’t let anything show on his face. Jongseong thinks, and thinks, and it’s like a light bulb pops up on top of his head and lights up when he manages to come to a conclusion.

“You want to mate with an alpha?” He asks.

Yang Jungwon visibly relaxes, nodding. “Preferebly.”

“Oh. Oh, you…” Jongseong stares at the questions he wrote down in his notebook. Pre-prepared, ready for the same old answers he expected to hear. He skips to the next page, empty of words, and starts writing. “That’s— Okay. Okay, uh, why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Is this really of any interest to you?” Yang Jungwon asks, but he sounds more self-conscious than dismissive.

“Jungwon-ssi, you are likely to be my most interesting interview during this whole trip. I could write a whole chapter about you alone.” Jongseong laughs. “Why do you prefer the idea of mating with an alpha?”

Yang Jungwon squirms in his seat. He brings his chair a little closer and leans in. Jongseong immediately gets it — this should stay here, in this room, between the two of them. Uncommon practice, likely frowned upon. Jongseong writes all of this down.

“Omegas tend to smell weak. Not necessarily in strength, just… Weak. Reliant. Like they can’t fend for themselves,” Yang Jungwon explains carefully. He chews on nothing, like he’s chewing on the words he wants to say. “I don’t find that attractive. I don’t want to be with someone who needs me to do things for them all the time. I would rather be with an alpha, you know? Strong, reliable, independent. I figure there’s more balance if we care for each other.”

“Interesting,” Jongseong mumbles more to himself than anything. He hopes his recorder can pick up all of Yang Jungwon’s words, because he isn’t sure he will be able to read his own handwriting later. “So on a first impression, you look for alphas to potentially mate. Would you change your mind if, say, you found an omega physically attractive?”

Jongseong looks up. Yang Jungwon is smiling again, but he looks less friendly and more mischievous.

“You’re primarily attracted to physical appearance, aren’t you?” Yang Jungwon asks. Jongseong, though a bit hesitant, agrees. “What comes after that? Scent?”

“Personality. We don’t…” Jongseong points at his own nose. “We can’t pick that kind of stuff up like you can, and industrialized scents are part of physical attraction for us. I’d say it’s personality.”

“Let’s say a really nice guy wants to mate with you,” Yang Jungwon says, and oh. Jongseong laughs immediately. Yang Jungwon shakes his head as if he thinks he caught the mistake in his words and laughs too. “Not mate, okay, sorry. Have sex. Let’s say he—”

“Jungwon-ssi, I am exclusively attracted to men. In this hypothetical scenario…” Jongseong waves a hand around. “A woman. That would have to be a really nice woman trying to have sex with me. In which case, no, I would not accept.”

“Then…” Yang Jungwon juts his chin out at Jongseong’s notebook. “You can write down that I don’t care if an omega is pretty. I am exclusively attracted to alphas, no matter what they look like.”

Jongseong doesn’t do as he was told for a hot second. Yang Jungwon’s gaze lingers — a steady thing, confident the way Jongseong has learned alphas are. He loses this battle in particular, ignoring how shaky his handwriting is for the first few words he writes and going back to the questionnaire page to pick what to ask next.

“How… How would you describe attractive attributes in one’s scent?” Jongseong asks, trying not to slam the notebook on his forehead several times after he nearly stutters. “I know it could be difficult to find the words to answer this question, but—”

“What did you have to do to be here?”

Yang Jungwon’s question catches him off guard. Jongseong blinks, stunned for a moment, and lowers his notebook and pen.

“I had to go through a… process…” Jongseong answers carefully, unsure of what Yang Jungwon wants to hear from him. “Send a bunch of stuff to the federal government to prove I am here for work purposes. Go through an interview. Buy a train ticket? I—”

“What type of stuff?” Yang Jungwon picks up his tea again. He takes a long sip, eyes never leaving Jongseong. “Documents?”

“Documents. My research project and a handwritten letter explaining what I planned to do here,” Jongseong agrees. Yang Jungwon hums, interested. “Took months to hear back from them. I had to sit in really boring meetings with the head of my department until I finally got the funds to proceed with my research. I planned the whole trip myself. I’m a bit confused about what this has to do with…?”

“I was just making sure.” Yang Jungwon drums his fingers along the sides of the cup. “Besides having to wait for authorities to do things for you, you smell like you had to do everything else. You’re determined, independent and competent.”

“Oh. Thank—”

“That’s what I find attractive in an alpha.”

Yang Jungwon takes one last big sip of his tea and places the empty cup on the table again. He doesn’t look at Jongseong at all, which is a change from how he’s been staring holes into Jongseong’s face so far into the interview, but this is somehow more intimidating.

Jongseong clears his throat. “Right.”

“If someone else had written that letter, or sent those documents, or even bought the train tickets for you,” Yang Jungwon lists, finally looking up at Jongseong again. “Your scent would be rather faint. It would… How can I say this? It would be undistinguishable in a crowd, unless I was familiar with you. But I could smell you from the moment grandma opened the door.”

“Does…” Jongseong starts, processing the words. He laughs, a bit awkward, and brings his knees closer together. “Do you think that’s why so many people have been rejecting interviews with me?”

“A lot of alphas smell scary, like they’re trying to impose respect. You smell gentle,” Yang Jungwon says with a rather fond smile. Jongseong feels his face burn with the compliment. “You are naturally respectable. I think our kind just hates humans.”

“Would you say…” Jongseong raises his pen in the air, avoiding eye contact. “Would you say gentle is more attractive than scary?”

“Yes.” Yang Jungwon laughs. “I would.”

Jongseong can’t quite relax or get his face to stop going up in flames throughout the rest of the interview, even when he manages to divert the conversation into topics that don’t concern him at all, such as Yang Jungwon’s first experience feeling attraction, if there are any changes to one’s scent during mating that Yang Jungwon finds attractive, even parts of the body that smell more or less attractive to Yang Jungwon. Jongseong happily shares that the neck is also an erogenous zone for humans at some point, but Yang Jungwon’s only response is a cryptic hum that gets him to move on immediately.

He stops recording at the end of their conversation and thinks distantly he could probably go home now and write a whole paper on Yang Jungwon’s interview alone, but he smiles instead. The polite, calculated smile he’s given everyone who agreed to talk to him so far. Yang Jungwon must sense that they are done for now and does the honors of getting up from his chair first.

“Thank you so much for your time. If you could…” Jongseong picks up the rather thick stack of papers in his bag and gives one of the surveys to Yang Jungwon. “Just for statistical purposes. I can come back in around two days to pick this up. Sounds good?”

“Give me three more. I can convince my parents and my grandma to do this too,” Yang Jungwon says, eyes raking through the survey. He snorts at something, but doesn’t say what. Jongseong scrambles to do as he says. “How many people have you managed to interview so far?”

“Not many,” Jongseong grumbles, and Yang Jungwon giggles. “I’m off to get rejected ten more times now. Just another day as a wolf-human researcher. I’ll survive.”

“Hmh…” Yang Jungwon hums, thinking for some time. “I can deliver these to you when we’re done filling them out. You’re with the human professor, right? Downtown, in the cabins behind the lake?”

“I am! With the professor, yes, but you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Yang Jungwon pointedly lifts his eyebrows. Jongseong stops, then nods, easily agreeing. “Good. I’ll see you then?”

Jongseong waves at Yang Jungwon one last time. He stares at the row of houses left in the street and decides he can leave that for later, or even another day. He got enough material from Yang Jungwon. He’s only halfway through February, and he has another month left of this trip. Jongseong turns around and walks back to Heungchan’s car with a skip to his steps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Gentle… is… more attractive than scary…”

Jongseong is typing away on his laptop, saving the document every time he finishes a sentence to make sure nothing is lost since he has no connection to the precious internet that can automatically save his work for him. He’s halfway through transcribing Jungwon’s interview word for word, and not only does his wrist hurt, but his neck and lower back are killing him. Don’t even get started on the eyes. Yes, they’re burning. Jongseong should probably visit an ophthalmologist when he’s back in Seoul.

He’s fixing a typo in one of the very last sentences when he hears knocking on the door. Jongseong checks the time — it’s way past noon, way before sunset. Heungchan usually comes by to offer the pastries the old lady down the road makes when the sun is lower in the sky.

Jongseong gets the door, somewhat wary, but his heart almost stops when he sees Yang Jungwon leaning against the frame.

“Jungwon-ssi.” He blinks. “Hi— hey. I forgot you were coming over. Hey.”

“You can drop formalities with me. I think we’re past that by now.” Jungwon scoffs. He stretches four whole surveys in Jongseong’s direction, all of them filled out, and Jongseong swears he could cry. “You could give me another two of those. I’m sure I could stop by my sister’s place and tell her and her mate to do this too.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds perfect.” Jongseong rakes his eyes through the surveys. He looks up again, at Jungwon, and frowns. “How did you know this was my cabin?”

Jungwon laughs brightly and taps on the side of his nose twice. Jongseong groans, because how could he forget?

“Sorry. Of course.” He scratches the back of his head and steps aside. “You can come in. Kind of cold outside, no?”

“I promised grandma I’d get something for her downtown and be back before sunset.” Jungwon shakes his head, and Jongseong wants to dive in the freezing lake to drown in embarrassment. Jungwon must sense it, because he laughs. “Next time? When I bring back my sister’s survey?”

“Wh—okay,” Jongseong easily agrees. He notices Jungwon shifting his weight from one foot to another, squirming a bit, and frowns. “Is there…”

“Did you interview anyone else?” Jungwon blurts out.

“I… Barely left the cabin after our interview. I wanted to write the whole thing down on paper and digitally to make sure I don’t lose it,” Jongseong explains slowly, confused with Jungwon’s curiosity. Last time he randomly started asking questions, Jongseong ended up extremely flustered. “Why?”

“These people probably hate humans, but they don’t hate me.” Jungwon shrugs. “I thought I could help you. After I bring back my sister’s survey. What do you think?”

“Jungwon, that would be great, but it would take up so much of your time to—”

“I have enough free time. Trust me.” Jungwon laughs. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but life has a different pace here. We don’t care about your human perception of time.”

“Okay.” Jongseong nods. Weak at first, more certain after he mulls the idea over. “Yeah, okay. I could definitely use some help.”

Jungwon smiles. He’s pretty like this, when he isn’t staring at Jongseong like he’s trying to read his mind. He lifts a hand in the air, cold fingers and wrist touching the side of Jongseong’s neck in an awkward gesture and leaving a trail of fire behind after he pulls back. Jungwon’s shoulders go up at first, then down with a long hum.

They stare at each other in silence.

“I kind of need those two surveys—”

“Oh, shit. Right.”

Jongseong closes the door after Jungwon says his goodbyes and goes down the steps of the cabin. He almost turns around to go back to his transcription too, but he lingers by the window, watching Jungwon go. Jongseong catches the exact moment Jungwon stops just as he’s about to walk down the dirt road and lifts his wrist up to his face, taking a long sniff. The hairs on the back of Jongseong’s neck stand up at the sight, and he decides he should probably stop looking now. He shouldn’t have looked at all, actually.

He goes back to his laptop, keeping a warm hand where Jungwon’s cold fingers touched his neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s nearing sunset when Jongseong drives back to his cabin a couple days later. It doesn’t completely surprise him to see Jungwon there, sitting by the steps, surveys securely folded in his gloved hands, but it makes Jongseong’s heart hurt a little. Wolf-humans are more resistant to the cold, but that doesn’t mean they are immune to it. Jongseong doesn’t say much — he just parks horribly right in front of Jungwon, opens the door to the passenger seat and tells him to jump in.

“How long have you been waiting?” Jongseong asks as soon as Jungwon slams the door closed.

“Couple hours.” Jungwon sniffs. “Didn’t know you were going out today.”

“Picked up some surveys. Sorry, I didn’t have a way to tell you.” Jongseong smiles apologetically. “I’ll drive you back home. We could get started early tomorrow, what do you think? Haven’t explored all of the eastern zone of the town yet.”

“I know everyone there,” Jungwon mumbles. “Should make things easier for you.”

“Any ideas on where it would be easier to start off?”

“I have a few friends I grew up with,” Jungwon says. Jongseong glances at him, but his eyes are distant. “Some old ladies who are friends with my grandma. Is it okay if they are not of reproductive age?”

“I’m looking for anyone of any age. It’s important to get different perspectives.”

Jungwon is quiet when Jongseong drops him off at his house, but he does that thing again — the awkward shuffling for a second, the quick fingers and wrist to Jongseong’s neck, then bolting out of the car like it pains him to be there. Jongseong drives away slowly, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror, and he ends up catching the exact moment Jungwon sniffs the wrist that came in contact with his neck mere seconds earlier.

That’s too much for Jongseong, who once again feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He slams his foot on the accelerator to get out of there, driving downtown like he’s running from the police and only slowing down when he sees the cabin he’s been calling home for the past few weeks. Jongseong turns off the car, listening to the sound of his own breathing, and knocks his forehead on the steering wheel lightly.

“It’s nothing,” he whispers. “It’s nothing. It’s probably nothing.”

That’s what he tells himself repeatedly until he falls asleep and wakes up the next morning determined to forget about the day before, or the other day Jungwon visited his cabin too. He went through the trouble of getting a visa to be able to travel inside his own country with a purpose, a single-minded focus, and he is not about to let his imagination ruin this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him.

Jongseong eats a hearty breakfast in Heungchan’s cabin and hops in the car with his faithful messenger bag thrown in the backseat. He connects his phone to the bluetooth speakers, enjoying the ride while drumming his fingers on the wheel, and before he knows it, he’s parked in front of Jungwon’s house. Jongseong is about to pause the music when he sees Jungwon walking out of the door with a scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and a beanie covering his ears.

He doesn’t need an invitation to get in. Jongseong stares at him blankly.

“What?” Jungwon lifts a brow, casually adjusting the seatbelt.

“Good morning…?” Jongseong says. Or asks, really. “How did you—”

“Could smell you,” Jungwon explains with a rushed mumble. “Good morning.”

Jongseong forces himself to be cool because this is nothing — he already convinced himself of that the night before. It helps that Jungwon doesn’t mention his scent even once throughout the rest of the day, helping him with the very difficult residents of the town instead. People are more willing to help when Jongseong is accompanied by one of their kind, who would have thought? He finally sees a significant dent in the hundreds of surveys he printed out back in Seoul, and while interviews are still challenging to secure, at least Jongseong doesn’t go back to his cabin after being rejected dozens of times.

Throughout the next few days, Jungwon becomes a steady presence in Jongseong’s journey. The passenger seat belongs to him more than it ever did to Jongseong’s messenger bag, and the playlist accompanying them on the speakers is curated by his wandering fingers. He enjoys the soft rock just as much as the heavy metal he comes across on Jongseong’s preferred music app, and whenever they are in the car for longer than a few minutes, it’s easy to get lost in conversation; about the slow life in this small town, or the hectic schedule of an adult from a big city.

Jungwon tells Jongseong things have changed a lot in the past fifteen to twenty years, ever since regulations to cross the town’s borders became less strict for humans. He doesn’t mind it, as most people his age don’t, but the older generation isn’t fond of how many researchers have started getting more access to their society and how it’s become this whole ordeal when, for them, it’s nothing more than their daily life. Jungwon also mentions a lot of people from his generation left to get higher education in bigger cities and never came back, and how that has created a certain resentment in families he’s known his whole life.

Jongseong tries to show his perspective too, mostly as a scientist. How it is important to comprehend, catalog, and keep records of their people in case something happens to them. A society as ancient and formally understudied as theirs needs certain types of protection not only from the federal government, but also from people who wish to understand humanity as a whole. People like you?, Jungwon asks, a teasing smirk coloring his features. People like me, Jongseong replies, holding his gaze.

They take breaks, too. By lakes, near the top of mountains, in the middle of clearings in naked forests, so disconnected from society it’s easy to pretend no one else exists in the world except for them. Jungwon takes Jongseong places only someone who has lived their entire life in this town could have shown him, and he thinks, for a brief, brief moment, he understands why professor Heungchan decided to leave Seoul behind to lead a quiet life here.

But when March comes around and Jongseong has transcribed a surprising total of forty interviews, he notices something crucial about an overwhelming amount of them. He sits back in his chair, turns off his laptop, and chews on his nails as he decides how to go about this.

Well, he technically knows what to do. It’s just that things could get awkward.

As usual, Jongseong doesn’t have to announce he has arrived. Jungwon comes out before Jongseong even gets to park properly, the map of the city they’ve been crossing out slowly right under his arm. He doesn’t have a scarf around his neck this time, and he smells faintly of the tea he frequently brews when he throws himself in the passenger seat.

Jongseong doesn’t return the mumbled greeting he hears. He turns off the car, in fact, the low music playing on the speakers being cut abruptly and making him realize he’s breathing a little too loudly. Staring at the now familiar road ahead of him, Jongseong feels Jungwon’s gaze on his face.

“I’ve been going over the interviews I recorded in the past couple of weeks,” Jongseong starts, voice almost strained. “I… I noticed all of them were done with alphas. Ever since you started helping me, I’ve only interviewed alphas.”

“Okay?” Jungwon says.

“Jungwon, I should also interview omegas. Are they more difficult to approach?” Jongseong looks at Jungwon, who now has decided the road is far more interesting than his face.

“No. They’re not.”

Jongseong blinks. “I don’t understand.”

Jungwon brings fingers to his lips, rubbing them insistently, eyes narrowing and relaxing as he surely thinks of what to say. After seemingly infinite seconds of silence in the car, he clicks his tongue.

“It’s mating season,” he grumbles.

“I’m well aware. I decided to conduct my interviews at this time of the year because of this,” Jongseong says. “Are you not friends with any omegas?”

“I am.”

“Then…” Jongseong hesitates. “Can I please interview some omegas? It’s important that I do that.”

When Jungwon takes his fingers away from his lips, they’re red, picked on, irritated from all the rubbing. He nods his head slowly, looking at Jongseong with a smile so miniscule it looks more like he’s stretching his mouth sideways.

“Drive two blocks down. I have a few omega friends over there.”

The car is silent during the painful three minutes it takes them to arrive at their destination. Not even the faint music playing on the speakers helps them in this case, and Jongseong almost wants to shake Jungwon by the shoulders to ask him what the hell is going on. He doesn’t though, because he hasn’t lost his mind; he just calmly parks when Jungwon tells him to. Jongseong grabs the messenger bag in the backseat, throws it over his shoulder and gets out of the car, but he stops in his tracks as soon as he notices Jungwon hasn’t moved to do the same yet.

Jongseong sighs heavily, making Jungwon immediately jump out of the car and close the door. He doesn’t move any more than that, but progress is progress. They stare at each other over the roof. After silence stretches out for too long, Jongseong throws his hands in the air.

“Jungwon, you’ve been—”

“Hug me.”

Some sort of bird cries in the distance. Jongseong hears the radio playing inside someone’s house. Jungwon has that confident, unwavering look in his eyes, and Jongseong suddenly feels very small.

“What,” he blurts out.

“Hug me. Or, uh…” Jungwon takes one step, backs away, then confidently walks around the car to stop in front of Jongseong. “Let me.”

Jongseong has hugged relatives in his adolescence that he only ever saw in that one instance in his whole life and it was less awkward than this. He doesn’t know who’s more stiff — him, confused and flustered, or Jungwon, who seems to be doing this the way a trained soldier would salute a monarch after being sent to war. If they were in a competition to see whose shoulders could reach closer to their ears, it would be a tough draw. Jongseong is about to pull away, but Jungwon’s cheek suddenly touches the side of his neck, and all of the tension leaves his body like magic.

The air leaves his lungs, his shoulders go down, and all of his limbs warm up under the layers of clothing he’s wearing. Jongseong drops his head on Jungwon’s shoulder, closing his eyes with the tentative touch of Jungwon’s cheek to his neck. When he comes to, Jungwon is pulling away, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

“Uh… Uhhh…” Jongseong tries and fails to say anything.

“This friend is more like a distant cousin,” Jungwon says like nothing happened. His cheeks are red, but Jongseong’s tongue suddenly feels like sandpaper and he can’t point that out for the life of him. “She’s pretty cool. Should probably say yes to an interview.”

She does, in the end. Jungwon does most of the talking initially, and Jongseong only feels like himself again when he remembers there is a reason he is in this stranger’s house. She is attracted to alphas the same way Jungwon is, though her definition of balance differs from his. She thinks balance comes in the shape of one side taking care, and the other being taken care of. Her eyes dart between Jongseong and Jungwon frequently throughout the interview, especially when she uses those same adjectives Jungwon used all those weeks ago to tentatively describe what she finds attractive in an alpha’s scent. Her stuttering does not go unnoticed when her gaze lingers on Jungwon for a second too long.

It turns out Jungwon knows many omegas. Some of them are friendlier, some others only accept the interview because they know Jungwon’s parents, or even grandparents. All of their responses are similar to what Jongseong got from the very few other omegas he’s interviewed before, but they are far more reserved in their behavior this time. Their arms are frequently crossed, their demeanor cautious. Jongseong is relieved no one calls him fertile again, but he isn’t stupid.

He drops Jungwon off at his house nearing sunset, five new interviews occupying his voice recorder and his notebook’s pages. They promise to see each other again the next day, as they usually do, but Jungwon doesn’t bring a cold hand to Jongseong’s neck today. Jongseong sees it, however, always through the rearview mirror, the moment Jungwon buries his nose in his padded coat before he walks into his house.

Jongseong would be definitely breaking some traffic laws regarding speed now if he were in Seoul, rushing back to his cabin like it will help leave this day behind. Scratch that — not just this day, but every single day ever since the first time Jungwon visited his cabin, or even the day he interviewed Jungwon. He isn’t stupid. He’s a specialist in wolf-human behavior. One of the very few in the country who can identify and interpret certain behaviors in the species like one breathes.

But he is only human, after all.

Jongseong parks in front of his cabin, turns off the car, and taps shakily on Sunoo’s contact number while trying to regulate his breathing.

“Hyung! It’s been—”

“Run me through wolf-human courting rituals. Good evening. Please.”

There is a severe pause after Jongseong vomits the words out into the receiver. He hears someone talking in the background, but it sounds like it’s a dialogue in a drama. Sunoo then makes a weird sound in the back of his throat.

“Huh?”

“Wolf-human courting rituals. Please,” Jongseong says again, slower this time.

“They’re… There is a more human aspect to their rituals, like, they don’t urinate and defecate everywhere, but,” Sunoo starts off slowly, “they are very similar in the physical displays of affection sense. Lots of nuzzling, hugging, spending time together. I thought you were the specialist here?”

“I needed an outsider perspective,” Jongseong whispers. He leans back into the car seat, staring at the cabins. “It’s… Kind of different. Reading about it and seeing it happen.”

“How different?” Sunoo asks, sounding curious in a very innocent way.

Jongseong snorts. “They are as straightforward as we learn they are, but only in the physical sense. They don’t really talk about what they are doing.”

“Is that a general observation or is it just one person?” Sunoo asks again. “You know, you could’ve come across this one wolf-human who prefers not to say anything. They have their own society, and their own habits, and this heightened sense that separates them from us entirely, but there is still a human part to them. This could be a personality trait instead of a general behavior.”

“I guess,” Jongseong murmurs, touching the side of his neck with the tips of his fingers. “You’re right. I should, uh, observe this further. How have you been?”

Jongseong is lucky enough that Sunoo doesn’t prod this time. He doesn’t ask about this supposed courting ritual Jongseong is witnessing, happy to tell him about how life in Seoul has been lately instead. Sunghoon is doing well too, and he won’t admit it, but he misses Jongseong; Sunoo can easily say it though, how the anthropology department is rather empty without him. Jongseong tells Sunoo about the mountains he’s hiked, the lakes he’s visited, the forests he’s walked through and leaves out who is taking him on these adventures, but Sunoo doesn’t ask.

A few minutes later, when he’s back in his cabin again, Jongseong brings the collar of his coat closer to his nose and drowns in the scent of Jungwon’s preferred tea for a moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s warmer than usual when Jongseong parks in front of Jungwon’s house in the early morning.

With the passenger seat finally occupied, he grips the steering wheel tightly. Jongseong can’t pick up the strong, independent scent of alphas with his regular human nose, but he can see the confident attitude of someone who knows their rightful place in a setting. Jungwon is part of this now too, in a way. He brought some filled-out surveys he picked up from close neighbors, and he knows where to put them; he doesn’t announce he’s going to pick the music for today, because he already knows he can do that whenever he wants to. Jungwon quietly made himself part of Jongseong’s routine and never really had to ask his way around. He just did, and Jongseong let him, because Jongseong, unknowingly, wanted him to.

Jongseong sniffs.

“Need to interview more omegas today,” he whispers. “Okay?”

“Yup,” Jungwon agrees. “Take a turn, then. I know where we could start.”

It’s a short drive to their destination again, barely two songs before Jungwon is telling Jongseong to park in front of a house painted in a dirty shade of pale pink. He jumps out as soon as the engine dies, but Jongseong stays inside for a couple seconds longer, only getting out and slamming the door closed after some deliberation. Jungwon starts walking towards the house once he notices he has company, but he stops when Jongseong doesn’t immediately follow him. There are five, maybe six steps separating them, and there is a question hanging in the air when Jungwon lifts his eyebrows.

Jongseong sucks in a breath. Throwing caution to the wind, he asks: “Not scent marking me today?”

He sees the cogs in Jungwon’s brain turning. He also sees Jungwon’s shoulders going down in clear defeat. It’s probably a personality thing; Sunoo was right.

“I’m a specialist, you know,” Jongseong continues. “In wolf-human behavior.”

“Okay,” Jungwon says, but it comes out scratchy. “I did you a favor.”

“That’s all?” Jongseong asks, both frustrated and dumbfounded. “You were doing me a favor?”

“I told you it’s mating season.” Jungwon scoffs. “I could let the omegas try to court you, if you’d prefer.”

“I don’t see how that’s an issue.” Jongseong shrugs. “Maybe I want them to.”

Jungwon’s posture changes right there. The cynical smile on his lips completely disappears, replaced by something as close to a scowl as Jongseong thinks he’s going to see on Jungwon’s face now.

“I could let them take me on hikes,” Jongseong goes on, even though Jungwon’s stern gaze is telling him to shut up. “I could ask them to help me get interviews with locals. I could… I could let them nuzzle me, and scent mark me, and—”

“You don’t want that,” Jungwon interrupts him. The smile is back on his lips, but he’s more confident now. “I can smell it. You don’t want that.”

What is Jongseong supposed to say in this situation? He has the brains and the degrees, sure, but Jungwon has the nose. Jungwon is right, too — Jongseong doesn’t want that. If he wanted, he would’ve politely declined Jungwon’s advances way earlier, back in February, when Jungwon showed up at his door with filled-out surveys under his arm. He would have said something long ago, because Jongseong doesn’t like to lead people on.

“Okay,” Jongseong whispers. “You don’t want that either, so what do you want me to do?”

Jungwon stands there, in the middle of a sidewalk, for a ridiculously long time. It’s kind of infuriating for Jongseong to look into his eyes and see that there is something going on inside his head, but not being able to tell what it is exactly. He doesn’t know if he just ruined this, whatever this may be. He doesn’t know if he just made a fool out of himself by pointing out Jungwon’s behavior lately, because being a specialist doesn’t cover everything there is to know about this species.

But then Jungwon forgets the pink house, all in favor of coming closer, to the point Jongseong steps back, startled, and inadvertently presses his back against the car. Jungwon is in his personal space in a second, tilting his head in an angle that makes it disappear in the crook of Jongseong’s neck, and before Jongseong can register what exactly is going on, the cold tip of Jungwon’s nose is touching his skin, inhaling him deeply and nuzzling him openly.

Jongseong wraps his arms around Jungwon’s shoulders, both trying to keep him close and trying to steady himself. His whole body goes warm and pliant again, his mind hazy in a way it reminds him of the feeling of getting up from a chair after finishing a strong drink, but he feels oddly safe. Jongseong hears a content hum and buries his nose in Jungwon’s neck too, taking a deep breath, finally aware of the arms wrapped around his middle. He can’t smell anything intangible the way wolf-humans can, but he smells Jungwon’s preferred tea, burning wood, and something so intrinsically him that Jongseong wouldn’t know how to put it in words.

The ghostly press of Jungwon’s nose trailing up his neck, along his jawline until their noses are touching makes goosebumps break out on Jongseong’s skin. Against his better judgment, Jongseong gets close enough to kiss Jungwon — a shy thing, a touch so quick he doesn’t taste anything when he licks his lips.

“I don’t want you to accept anyone else’s advances,” Jungwon whispers, lips brushing against Jongseong’s. “That’s what I want.”

“Yeah,” Jongseong says, too out of breath, with a nod of the head. “Wasn’t planning to.”

“Good.” Jungwon nuzzles his cheek. “I wouldn’t let anyone come close anyway.”

Jongseong could stand in the middle of the sidewalk pressed against a car that isn’t even his telling Jungwon all about how humans are way more fond of kissing than scent marking, but alas, he technically can’t. Jungwon pulls away first, a little out of balance and red in the face, but likely more used to this heady feeling that is making it difficult for Jongseong to think straight. When Jungwon laughs, it’s clearly because he’s having fun at Jongseong’s expense, but Jongseong can’t find it in himself to be mad at him.

“Cute,” Jungwon whispers. “Need a minute?”

“Definitely,” Jongseong huffs out.

Jungwon laughs a little harder this time, but he stays there, a comforting presence. Jongseong finds the courage to pull him in for a deeper kiss when he’s a little less dizzy, but that ends up not helping with regaining his footing. Jungwon giggles against his lips, always humming, pushing for a little more. It’s Jongseong who pulls away this time when he feels himself getting too into it, staring at the pale pink house behind Jungwon’s shoulders.

“Interviewing,” he says, pushing the word out.

After one last quick kiss, another giggle that Jongseong breathes in, Jungwon hums in agreement and they walk up to the door with shoulders bumping against each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongseong should be embarrassed for enjoying the alarmed looks he gets from every omega he interviews throughout the day, but he finds that he can’t bring himself to care. He likes it, in fact, in a deep, unknown part of his brain, that everyone he sees that day knows that Jungwon chose him to court, chose him to scent mark, chose him, period.

He comes to the conclusion that it might be the fact that he’s been in town for too long now. Jongseong’s heard so much about claiming and being claimed in so many interviews that now that he understands the feeling, he wants to show off too. Or maybe it’s a psychological effect of scent marking he hasn’t heard of or discovered yet, though, at the moment, he isn’t particularly interested in the scientific aspects of what he is going through.

What he is interested in is Jungwon’s presence. Confident and a little more quiet today, like there is a lot on his mind too. He doesn’t tease Jongseong as much, but he stops every so often in the middle of a sidewalk to bump his nose against Jongseong’s, to let himself be kissed where anyone could see them, where anyone could smell them. Jongseong doesn’t quite get used to the heady feeling of Jungwon’s lips on him, but he likes to think he’s learning to deal with it better.

So when the sun is lower in the sky and Jongseong has a few more interviews recorded, he timidly announces they could stop for the day. Jungwon agrees, even though it’s more of an uninterested hum, then he quickly uses the opportunity to press Jongseong against the car again to nuzzle and kiss him.

Jongseong hides his face against Jungwon’s skin, giggling. “Eager, aren’t you?”

“Sure.” Jungwon scoffs, but leaves a trail of wet kisses on Jongseong’s neck all the same. “I think you forgot it’s mating season.”

“It’s been mating season ever since I arrived,” Jongseong points out flatly and bites down on a smile when Jungwon pinches his waist. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I forgot.”

“You definitely did,” Jungwon murmurs, pulling away. Jongseong chases after him as he goes, unaware of even doing it, but quickly stands straight. Jungwon has a satisfied grin on his lips. “Stop by my place. I need to let my parents know I won’t be home tonight.”

This time, it’s Jungwon who gets to see the cogs in Jongseong’s brain turning as he makes sense of the words. Jungwon’s laugh echoes in his brain when Jongseong rushes to get in the car, and when they do stop by Jungwon’s family’s house, and then again as Jongseong patiently waits for Jungwon. It’s quick in theory, but an eternity in practice; Jungwon comes out with his hands in his pockets after a couple minutes, shoulders up to his ears, throwing himself in the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

“I think we should invest in cellphones like humans,” he mumbles. “It’d save me the embarrassment of saying to my parents’ face I won’t be home for the night when I reek of horny human.”

Jongseong blinks, catching the shade of red on Jungwon’s cheeks. “Reek of what human.”

“Come on.” Jungwon doesn’t look at Jongseong when he points at the steering wheel. “You’ve been terrorizing everyone with your scent since morning.”

“You— why didn’t you tell me? I thought— oh my god, I thought it was the scent marking that was making them react like that! You’re telling me—”

“It’s both,” Jungwon says, the borderline evil smile on his lips getting bigger. “Had to let them know you’re unavailable because you want to be.”

Jongseong almost pops a boner right then and there because, yeah, he has been a little worked up ever since Jungwon threatened his non-existent competition in the morning. Sue him, Jongseong likes knowing he’s the reason for someone’s possessiveness. He tries to keep cool though, mostly because the drive back to the central area of the town isn’t that quick, and now that he knows Jungwon can smell his arousal, and that Jungwon smells of his arousal, Jongseong can’t trust himself not to stop the car and do it in the middle of the road. He kind of wants to, even more so when Jungwon laughs, evil like his smile, and tells Jongseong his scent is only getting stronger.

The sight of the uneven dirt road that leads them to the cabins is enough for the air in the car to grow heavier with anticipation. Or maybe it’s just Jongseong, in his head, thinking of what’s about to come. He remembers the very first feeling of Jungwon trying to get a whiff of his scent, how the hairs on the back of his neck went up, and how he couldn’t forget the sensation. The tip of his fingers are a little cold when he turns the car off and Jungwon all but jumps out, Jongseong soon following him.

“Good thing you’re in this area,” Jungwon says, going around the car, arms already reaching out to hold Jongseong’s waist. “At least I know no one can smell us here.”

That’s the last thing anyone says before Jungwon is pressing Jongseong against the car again like he’s been doing all day, but he’s quicker this time. Quicker and hungrier, too much like he’s been holding himself back this whole time and now he gets to do whatever he wants. He kisses Jongseong on the mouth a bit too harshly, timed with a deep inhale that makes Jongseong feel a little shy.

Jungwon kisses the way Jongseong would expect a wolf to kiss. Hard, with a single purpose, after courting him for a whole month in hopes it would result in this. He pulls back abruptly, only to redirect his kisses to Jongseong’s face, then his neck, with the cold tip of his nose making goosebumps break out on Jongseong’s skin.

“We should go inside,” Jongseong whispers.

After a pull to the hair on the back of his head, Jungwon lets go, though a bit disgruntled. Jongseong never takes the house keys with him because there’s no point in doing that in this town, but as soon as they’re inside and he feels Jungwon’s insistent hands already back on his waist, he quickly turns around to lock the door. Just in case. Not for safety, but for as much privacy as they can get. Jongseong doesn’t waste too much time with that anyway, falling into Jungwon’s arms again and hoping to give back at least half of the energy he’s been receiving so far.

There is an urgency to Jungwon’s touch that leaves Jongseong out of breath, unsure of what to do. He’s not one to be quick — he likes taking his time, likes to take care and be taken care of, but he finds that he can’t do that with Jungwon. Less because he doesn’t want to, and more because Jungwon doesn’t let him, not even for a second. Even when he has to pull Jungwon by the back of his hair again to get him to stop, Jongseong is forced to multitask, taking their shoes off by the entrance, then, finally, stumbling around amidst Jungwon’s heated kisses.

When his back hits the mattress, Jongseong notices he’s already drowning in that heady sensation again, but this time his body is too warm, on the verge of getting sweaty. There is a voice in the back of his head telling him to get rid of his clothes once and for all, but it goes quiet with the sudden absence of a weight on top of him, leaving him sprawled out on the mattress breathing heavily.

Jongseong blinks, trying to get his senses back. The last rays of the setting sun invade the cabin from behind the lake, a flammable shade of orange illuminating the figure of Jungwon standing straight at the end of the bed. As soon as they make eye contact, Jungwon starts shaking his head.

“I should…” he whispers. “I have to take my time with you.”

Jungwon puts both of his hands flat on the edge of the bed first, climbing up next, getting on all fours as he crawls into Jongseong’s space. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and red, chest heaving with every breath he takes, the perfect picture of desperation, but there is something wild in his gaze that almost makes Jongseong fear for his life. After every deliberate movement of his limbs, Jungwon is hovering over Jongseong again, pursing his lips in quiet consideration. He leans down, Jongseong trying to meet him halfway, but Jungwon’s face disappears in his neck instead.

That same newly-discovered twisted part of Jongseong’s brain sends a shiver down his spine at the first inhale he hears right by his ear, louder than every other time Jungwon has smelled him, deeper too. He instinctively places both arms around Jungwon’s middle, trying to pull him closer, but it’s the sound of clumsy fingers struggling with the zipper of his coat for a moment that has him forcibly closing his eyes in anticipation. He hears the sound, feels the difference in temperature despite the shirt he’s wearing underneath the coat, and gasps when he finally hears the zipper click open.

Half of Jungwon’s weight drops on top of him, their crotches meeting timidly in an unsatisfactory contact, and Jongseong has to fight every nerve in his body not to buck his hips up. He helps Jungwon instead, taking his coat off in a hurry and dropping it on the floor, also taking the opportunity to climb a little further up the bed. Jungwon doesn’t follow as desperately as Jongseong does; he crawls slowly again, with that same look in his eyes, but he stops his hands on the hem of Jongseong’s shirt.

“Off,” he whispers, the command rolling off his tongue with ease.

Jongseong nods dumbly, trying not to embarrass himself as he does as he was told. He feels a little embarrassed under Jungwon’s gaze though, like he has to prove himself worthy of this undivided attention. He takes his shirt off quickly and props himself up on the bed with his elbows, looking expectantly at Jungwon.

“Thought you’d fight more,” Jungwon whispers, smile growing on his lips. “But you’re very obedient.”

Jongseong’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He tries to say something, but nothing comes out, and he ends up nodding dumbly one more time, laying ever obediently on the bed. Jungwon snorts, a barely-there sound that comes out through his nose, and pushes Jongseong’s knees apart with a lazy hand. It’s like he knows the silent command will be well-taken, because he quickly positions himself right in between Jongseong’s legs so their crotches can meet again, more deliberate, more firm. Jungwon rolls his hips slowly, making Jongseong realize both of them are already halfway to hard, and a broken, sort-of moan leaves their lips in synchrony.

Jungwon brushes his lips against Jongseong’s, making him chase after a kiss that once again never comes, then he laughs, dropping his head on the crook of Jongseong’s neck. Jongseong is about to try to convince him that kissing right now would be such a good idea, but the words die on his tongue when he feels a hand grabbing at his arm, pulling it off the bed. 

“Wh—”

Jongseong doesn’t quite understand one of his arms is getting pinned above his head at first, but the rough press of Jungwon’s fingers around his bicep helps him ground himself. He licks his lips, ready to try asking again, but the tip of Jungwon’s nose starts trailing down his neck, finding his collarbones, delicately going down, down, until Jongseong feels it pressing against the hollow of his armpit.

His hips buck up this time, faster than he can get them to stay in place. That same self-conscious feeling from earlier comes back now, almost pushing him to tell Jungwon to stop, but he swallows the words when he hears a deep inhale and feels a gentle kiss to the hairs under his arm. Jongseong moans, a sound that comes from an unknown place inside him, and tries to take a look at Jungwon.

“Fuck…” Jongseong whispers, vision swimming.

Jungwon’s eyes are closed, and he’s nuzzling the unruly tuft of thin hair under Jongseong’s armpit, every deep inhale making the muscles in Jongseong’s stomach tighten with need. That’s why this time, when Jongseong feels his other bicep being grabbed, he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t need a command either — he quickly places his arm above his head, never taking his eyes off the view. Jungwon leaves a trail of nuzzles across Jongseong’s chest, dropping tentative, almost tortuous kisses to his nipples on the way, and, finally, he buries his nose in Jongseong’s other armpit.

Jongseong thinks of asking what even smells so good under his arms that has Jungwon instinctively grinding down against his thigh with every inhale, but that’s a question for later, when he’s made peace with the fact that he enjoys this just as much. It’s ticklish, especially when Jungwon starts licking with a flat tongue around where the hairs are thicker, but that only makes his cock grow heavier, begging for attention. Jongseong moans, hopelessly rocking his hips against an underwhelming stomach at the same time he sees Jungwon smiling.

A firm hand stops Jongseong’s hips from moving entirely, and the only reason he doesn’t whine about it is because Jungwon surges up for a kiss, the salty taste of his own sweat on Jungwon’s tongue making Jongseong swallow a confused groan instead. He’s eased into it slowly, until he tastes more spit than sweat; he tries to meet Jungwon’s hips again, but the same hand is there, firm, stopping him from doing it. Jongseong whines this time, and Jungwon laughs against his lips.

It’s clear he’s leaning away to say something, probably to make fun of Jongseong as he tends to do, but Jongseong is faster than him for once. The miniscule moment of distraction is all he needs to grab Jungwon’s bicep, awkwardly pushing it up so he can bury his nose in Jungwon’s armpit as well. Jongseong doesn’t smell anything particularly strong, or even unusual, just the distant smell of a day well-lived over the thick fabric of Jungwon’s coat, but he revels in the broken moan he hears right by his ear, taking it as a reward.

The unfortunate part of this is that he doesn’t get to do the same to the other side, because it’s like Jungwon regains his consciousness and clamps his arm down against his body. Jongseong doesn’t complain, not really, but he does put on his best pitiful face when he looks up at Jungwon.

“Come on,” Jongseong murmurs, whining just a little. “You liked it. Let me…”

“Maybe later.” Jungwon shakes his head with a huff. “Behave, and take your pants off.”

Jongseong’s mind goes blank for a second before Jungwon pulls away entirely and he makes sense of the words. Yet another command he rushes to obey, fingers flying to his zipper at the same time Jungwon himself finally starts getting rid of his layers. There’s nothing remotely sexy about the way Jongseong has to kick his pants off, one of his socks coming off in the process too, but when he’s finally in his underwear only, he looks at Jungwon again and sees it — that same dangerous glint, something telling him to run very far away.

Jungwon has taken his coat off, but he’s still in his long-sleeved t-shirt and pants, kneeling on the bed, looking down at Jongseong. As for Jongseong, he feels too naked, too vulnerable and exposed in this situation, especially when he looks down at his own body and sees his hard nipples complementing the tiniest wet spot on his underwear, exactly at the tip where the outline of his achingly hard cock is visible through the fabric.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a single eyebrow raise from Jungwon makes him clack his teeth together. Jungwon laughs, just on the edge of mean, but he’s nice enough to finally bend down again and kiss Jongseong.

It doesn’t last nearly long enough, but goosebumps break out on Jongseong’s skin both for being exposed to the low temperature in the cabin, and because Jungwon does it again, the slow tracing of the tip of his nose along Jongseong’s body. He licks over one of Jongseong’s nipples, making him arch his back lightly as a reflex, but instead of straying to the sides, Jungwon drags his nose down Jongseong’s sternum, down the middle of his stomach, circling around his navel until—

“Oh, fuck…”

The simultaneous feeling of warm lips kissing his cock over the fabric of his underwear and a nose taking a strong whiff of him makes Jongseong buck his hips into it, chasing for more contact. Jungwon could tease him and pull away, telling Jongseong to behave again just to see him happily do as he’s told, but Jungwon keeps his face right where it is instead. Jongseong drags his clothed cock against Jungwon’s face slowly, pushing a little more against Jungwon’s nose, taking every deep inhale he hears as a compliment that only makes him harder.

Jungwon looks up, finding Jongseong’s eyes, parting his lips a little. Jongseong props himself up to make sure he burns the sight into his memories to jerk off to in the years to come, or to get off on if he ever finds himself with an underwhelming partner in the future. He thrusts against Jungwon’s face, harder against his nose specifically, that wet spot catching in one of the nostrils right as Jungwon sucks lightly onto Jongseong’s cock. Jungwon inhales deeply, moaning, and finally closing his eyes as a visible shudder rocks through his body.

“You’d look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jongseong whispers, a thought out loud, and it makes Jungwon open his eyes again. “No? You don’t want that?”

“Not now,” Jungwon says, breath hot against Jongseong’s cock. He leans away — to Jongseong’s disappointment —, but he’s always close. His hands come up to the waistband of Jongseong’s underwear and he starts pulling it down. “I was thinking about something else.”

Seeing his cock spring free is even more embarrassing than seeing its outline, Jongseong thinks for a second that goes by quickly because he’s busier admiring how it bounces back against Jungwon’s face. He’s red, so red it’s almost purple, tip glistening with pre-cum, rock-solid where it leans against Jungwon’s cheek. Jongseong almost cries at the loss when Jungwon pulls away again to help him get completely rid of his underwear, but he swallows it down when Jungwon is back, tip of the nose stroking along the length of his cock slowly.

Jungwon huffs out a laugh.

“That omega you told me about. The one…” He says, but doesn’t finish the thought. Jongseong remembers her, yeah. Not that she seems relevant now, not until Jungwon opens his mouth again, eyes closing at the same time. “She was right. You smell really fertile.”

Jongseong needs to reflect on a lot of things later, decidedly when he isn’t this fucking horny, but even in his disoriented state of mind he can tell he’s a hypocrite for moaning at Jungwon’s words. Jungwon probably thinks the same, judging by the way he laughs more openly, but he doesn’t say anything. Jungwon simply nuzzles Jongseong’s pubic hair, taking slow, deep breaths as he goes; he skips over Jongseong’s cock this time, going straight for Jongseong’s balls, but then he suddenly stops.

He silently crawls on the bed and grabs a pillow by the headboard, only tapping Jongseong’s hip once to get him to lift it without the need for another command. Jungwon positions himself between Jongseong’s legs again, looping both arms around Jongseong’s thighs and spreading them further apart, nose diving right back into Jongseong’s balls.

“Such a shame,” Jungwon whispers. Jongseong already misses being able to see the lower portion of his face, especially the way his nostrils flare with every deep inhale, but the sight of his eyes searching whatever it is that he sees in Jongseong’s crotch is good enough. Jongseong pushes against Jungwon’s face again, only lightly, and Jungwon chuckles. “Wish you could carry my babies.”

At the same time Jungwon’s words ring in Jongseong’s brain, in that same untouched corner that has been awakened today, he feels a nose pressing against his perineum, inhaling him deeply. Jongseong moans, even tries to say something, but nothing except a groan comes out. He sees his cock twitching pathetically, another bead of pre-cum leaking out of the red tip with the ever-present background view of the smile in Jungwon’s eyes. The foreign sensation of a nose touching his perineum leaves quickly, but it’s replaced with something more overwhelming: Jungwon’s nose, pressed against his hole, unconsciously making him clench.

The moan that comes out of Jongseong’s lips sounds desperate even to his own ears — he can’t imagine what it sounds like to Jungwon, who laughs, fucking nuzzling Jongseong’s asshole while he’s at it. He clenches, unclenches, and hears a content hum.

“So fertile,” Jungwon whispers. “Such a pretty hole.”

That’s the last thing he says, or does, really, before Jongseong can see a bit more of his face and the nose pressing against his hole is replaced by a tongue. Flat, wet and warm, so unexpected that Jongseong bucks his hips against nothing — just cold, underwhelming air, right where there should be something to help alleviate some of the dizzying pressure on his cock. Jungwon licks again, then again, and Jongseong gives up looking at him to drop his head on the mattress, moaning to the ceiling instead.

Jongseong even puts his arms above his head again, trying to smell his own armpits, but it’s not the same when he does it. He shakes his head, frustrated, and almost takes one hand to his cock to stroke it lightly, but it’s like Jungwon can read his mind and one of his own hands comes up to slap him away. 

“I’m sorry,” Jongseong says, out of breath. “I’m sorry— I promise I’m not touching myself.”

A satisfied hum vibrates against Jongseong’s hole and he arches his back off the bed, whimpering in frustration when Jungwon uses his strength to hold him down. Jongseong is about to open his mouth again to, fuck, who knows, beg? But Jungwon, always seemingly a hundred steps ahead, takes the opportunity to try and fuck Jongseong open with his tongue.

Jongseong’s body almost melts into the mattress before all of his muscles tense up again, and he swears if he tried hard enough, if he jerked his hips enough to make his cock move, he could come on Jungwon’s tongue fucking him alone. He’s been worked up all day. He’s been worked up since he saw Jungwon secretly take a whiff of his scent, nearly a month ago, and, god, he wants to come so fucking bad. Instead of getting what he wants, though, Jongseong lets out a deep, broken moan that almost turns into a whimper when he feels Jungwon pulling away. For good, away from Jongseong, even doing as much as letting go of his legs.

Jungwon stands up on the end of the bed. Jongseong closes his eyes for a second, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down, and almost misses the moment Jungwon finally, finally starts taking the rest of his clothes off. The t-shirt comes off first, dropping to the ground. His hands go to his pants, and he huffs out a laugh, looking at Jongseong.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, looking down at Jongseong. “You were getting close when I haven’t even touched you properly yet. Eager, aren’t you?”

“Jungwon…” Jongseong says, out of breath, unable to reply properly to Jungwon throwing his words back at him.

Jungwon is lean with a defined build, his nipples perky over his toned chest. Jongseong wonders if the smell of tea and burning wood clings to his skin, but all of those thoughts disappear from his mind when Jungwon pulls his pants down, kicking them off. For a moment, Jongseong wonders if the terribly low light of the very end of a day coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows is playing tricks on his eyes, but no, it’s not. There is a huge — like, definitely too big — wet spot on Jungwon’s underwear. Right over the head of his cock, so wet it makes the fabric transparent.

“What the— Did you…?” Jongseong asks, looking up at Jungwon.

“What? Come? No.” Jungwon looks down at himself. He pulls at his underwear, right where it’s wet, and lets it snap back against his skin. Jongseong hears how damp it is. When Jungwon laughs, Jongseong looks up again. “I thought you were a specialist in my kind?”

“In behavior. Not…” Jongseong sits up. He doesn’t mean to lick his lips when Jungwon pulls the waistband of his underwear down, but it happens anyway when his cock springs free. Jungwon is so hard it stands up on its own, but besides that… “Not this. What.”

“Mhm…” Jungwon hums, hissing when he starts stroking himself slowly. Jongseong crawls on the bed towards him this time, but he’s a lot less graceful with it. He just needs to watch closely, he wants to hear how abnormally wet Jungwon is. “Never seen this before?”

Jongseong shakes his head, setting a mental reminder to dig deeper into wolf-human anatomy another day. He comes close enough to be able to see how wet Junwon’s cock is now, glistening against the faint light coming from outside the cabin. More of the clear, viscous liquid pours out as Jungwon strokes up, and it’s… Pre-cum, for sure, just a seriously abnormal amount of it. Jongseong comes a little closer, sticking his tongue out, right as Jungwon carefully places the tip of his cock on it, slapping it lightly, a string of spit and pre-cum connecting them.

Jongseong makes a sound in the back of his throat, pursing his lips to let Jungwon rub the head of his cock against them. “Tastes good.”

“Smells good too?” Jungwon asks, out of breath, stroking himself so more pre-cum leaks out of him, right against Jongseong’s lips. He guides his cock to Jongseong’s nose, and Jongseong takes a deep breath, picking up the sweat of Jungwon’s crotch and the musk of the pre-cum. “Tell me.”

“Really good. Strong and heavy,” Jongseong agrees, closing his eyes for a moment. He opens his mouth again, humming when Jungwon puts the tip of his cock in and he gets to suck on it before pulling away. “Tell me what it smells like to you.”

“Like I’ve been dying to have you like this,” Jungwon says, voice going lower as Jongseong takes him back into his mouth with a hum. He exhales too loudly, too shakily, too affected. “Like it knows I need to get your tight hole wet for me. This is your fault.”

Jungwon says it like Jongseong should be ashamed of it, and not proud like he is right now. He looks up, neck straining in this position, as he sucks Jungwon’s cock, mixing the wetness of the pre-cum with his own spit. He opens his mouth as wide as he can when Jungwon takes a hand to his hair and starts fucking into it with shallow, deliberate thrusts. Jungwon moans — a real, intentional moan, the sound nasal and needy.

“Look at you,” Jungwon whispers, thrusting slowly, but a little deeper, almost hitting the back of Jongseong’s throat. “You smell so good right now. So needy, so ready for me. You have no idea.”

Jongseong closes his eyes, moaning around Jungwon’s cock, happy with the compliment. He’s already learned Jungwon isn’t one to give those out so easily, so he’ll take what he can get and never push for more. He starts breathing through his nose when Jungwon’s cock starts hitting the back of his throat repeatedly, but he can’t stop himself from gagging, which unfortunately makes Jungwon pull away entirely. He almost chases after it like he’s always chasing after Jungwon’s kisses, but he drops down on the mattress instead, catching his breath.

The hand in his hair is light, stroking his scalp gently. Jongseong looks up to find Jungwon smiling down at him.

“Get on your back,” he whispers. Jongseong nods, but doesn’t move immediately. “You good?”

“Kind of wanted you to come in my mouth, but,” Jongseong sighs, finally getting up, and Jungwon giggles. “I guess there’s time.”

“Yeah. There is,” Jungwon says, and he sounds oddly fond.

Jongseong doesn’t look at Jungwon as he kneels back to where he was earlier, plopping down unceremoniously and adjusting the pillow under his butt. When he finds the courage to look up again though, the breath catches in his throat at the sight — Jungwon, stroking himself slowly, coating his fingers in his own pre-cum, his eyebrows pinched together in concentration and his biceps jumping with every up and down of his fist. Jongseong could stroke himself like, three times at best and have one of those earth-shattering orgasms with this view alone, but he fists the bedsheets instead to stop himself from doing it. Jungwon laughs, out of breath, and crawls on the bed again.

A sticky, wet sound follows the movement of Jungwon letting go of his cock, and Jongseong can faintly see the glint of his pre-cum coating his fingers as he plops down on the mattress too. Jongseong’s shallow breathing starts off quiet, but only gets louder as the hand comes closer, and when he finally feels the press of a finger against his hole, he drops his head on the mattress again with a low, guttural moan.

“Stretch you out a bit,” Jungwon murmurs, and Jongseong looks at him again — he’s focused, watching his own finger like this is serious to him, but he snorts. “You’re sucking me right in, though?”

“Then put another one,” Jongseong suggests, catching Jungwon’s attention for a brief second. He feels it again, the press of another finger, and laughs breathlessly. “You’re pretty obedient too, Jungwonie.”

“Careful,” Jungwon whispers, and the smile on his lips looks like a warning. “I could leave you here like this and go home.”

“You don’t want that,” Jongseong says, just a little lower, less confident. Jungwon glances at him, fingers going a little deeper, and Jongseong’s cock twitches. “You don’t want to leave me here like this. Do you?”

The press of a third finger starts feeling like a real stretch, and it’s the thing that gets Jongseong to shut up because that’s enough to answer his question. Jungwon is more careful, spitting on Jongseong’s hole to help with keeping it wet, his eyes never going anywhere the entire time even as he kisses the inner part of Jongseong’s thighs surely to ease him into the stretch.

At some point, Jongseong starts rocking down on Jungwon’s fingers, while he takes one hand to the head of his cock — not touching himself enough to come, but enough to keep himself interested. Jungwon hums, dropping the human act of kissing Jongseong’s thighs to bury his nose into the flesh, inhaling deeply; Jongseong catches him slowly humping the mattress in time with it, and that’s enough for him to open his mouth and say:

“Fuck— you can put it in already.”

The chuckle that echoes in the mostly-darkness of the cabin sounds fond to Jongseong’s ears. He sees, for a brief moment, that predatory glint in Jungwon’s eyes as he’s standing up to kneel on the bed, but any thought he could have about it gets quickly replaced by the sudden feeling of being turned around to lie flat on his stomach.

Jongseong moans, instinctively humping the pillow under him, but a sharp, quick slap to his ass is enough of a warning to get him to stay still. He apologizes with a muffled whisper, but hears nothing in return. Nothing except that same sticky, wet sound of Jungwon stroking his cock slowly, the sound of his heavy exhales; Jongseong feels the mattress dip too, and doesn’t need any commands or instructions when a dry hand touches his lower back. Jongseong arches his back just a little, just enough, and buries his face in the bedsheets with the gentle touch of Jungwon’s wet fingers to his hole.

Like this, when he can’t see anything except for the headboard and the pillows that are so much better than the ones he has back home, the anticipation makes butterflies take flight in his stomach. Jongseong surely doesn’t expect to feel Jungwon’s cold nose touch his hole again, nuzzling it, before a hand comes down on his ass, hard. He moans, startled and definitely too into it, but any other sound gets stuck in his throat when he finally feels the press of Jungwon’s cock on his ass.

Jongseong isn’t embarrassed by how quickly he sucks the head of Jungwon’s cock into his hole, but the stretch is a bit much. He’s not sure if it’s the way he smells or if it’s Jungwon’s own common sense that gets him to stop at that for a moment, but Jongseong is grateful, especially when he can hear Jungwon’s shallow breathing at finally being inside him. He hears curse words being whispered in the relative silence of the cabin too, and closes his eyes, getting used to the stretch.

“So tight,” Jungwon whispers, or babbles, really, hands holding himself up on the bed. “So warm, so good for me, so fucking—”

The words are an incentive for Jongseong to wiggle back against Jungwon’s cock, pushing more in, a moan leaving his lips. Jungwon, bless him, doesn’t really move at all. He just whispers every curse word he knows, almost whining the deeper Jongseong goes, but he doesn’t move. Jongseong sets his own pace, stopping when he feels like it, bottoming out at some point and moaning when he’s pressed against Jungwon’s crotch. He takes the opportunity to look behind his shoulder, finding Jungwon kneeled right behind him, breathing heavily, eyes trained to Jongseong’s ass.

When Jongseong pulls away, then back, finally starting to set a pace, Jungwon meets his eyes. Jongseong can’t rely on scent to figure Jungwon out, but he’d like to think he has Jungwon’s mannerisms at least partially categorized in his brain. That’s why, when Jungwon doesn’t shy away from his gaze, Jongseong knows he’s getting the more confident version of Jungwon he knows here, the one who doesn’t back away, who doesn’t hide from or dances around certain things he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Jongseong pushes back against Jungwon; Jungwon meets Jongseong halfway, thrusting into him, and both of them moan in unison.

“Fuck,” Jongseong whispers, arching against Jungwon when he starts thrusting deeper. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— just like that.”

Jungwon quickly bends over Jongseong, torso covering his back, nose stuck to the side of his face, and Jongseong doesn’t have to think twice before he bares his neck, leaving it to Jungwon to bury his nose there, to smell him, to take deep inhales matching the rhythm of his hips. 

Jungwon fucks Jongseong slowly at first, tentative with every thrust, but hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall of the cabin. The mattress creaks under them too, definitely loud, probably too loud when they’re basically in the middle of nowhere. That deep, undiscovered part of Jongseong’s brain supplies him with the idea of the professor hearing them, and, god, he hopes it’s the case, because he wants more people to know Jungwon is claiming him like this.

Amidst the sounds of the headboard, their moans and the creak of the mattress, Jungwon laughs, and even when it sounds incredibly fucking breathless, it goes straight to Jongseong’s leaking cock. There is a hand wrapped lightly at the base of Jongseong’s neck suddenly, sliding up until his face is lifted and Jungwon is breathing right against his ear.

“I can smell it,” he whispers, words broken at every other syllable. “I know what you want.”

“Yeah?” Jongseong asks, body going forward with the impact of every snap of Jungwon’s hips against his ass. Jungwon hums positively, nose buried in Jongseong’s neck. “Give it to me then— fuck, just like that— fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, baby, fuck—”

Jongseong swears he could cry when Jungwon fucking stops everything he is doing and pulls out, the squelching sound almost as ridiculous as the way he nearly sobs with the lack of everything that’s been driving him closer to the edge. He drops his body on the mattress again, completely weightless, ready to take matters into his own hands and hump that same pillow to get somewhere since he isn’t being helped now, when, just like it happened earlier, Jungwon flips him around.

The dark ceiling stares back at him for a moment. Jongseong blinks, propping himself up on his elbows, staring down right where Jungwon is spreading his legs apart and adjusting himself between them. This time, Jungwon isn’t all that graceful when he puts his cock back inside Jongseong’s ass, but he doesn’t need to be — he’s somehow more wet, that same squelching sound echoing in the room as they meet each other’s eyes, a moan spilling past their lips.

Jongseong places a hand on the back of Jungwon’s head right as Jungwon is bending down, but he doesn’t bury his nose in Jongseong’s neck this time. They kiss, all teeth and moaning, all sweat, spit, and smells Jongseong can’t pick apart. With every thrust, Jungwon loses a bit more control, both in strength and precision, but that only makes Jongseong feel warmer. He doesn’t have to think when he lets go of Jungwon’s lips to bury his nose in his neck, inhaling deeply, smelling and also tasting the sweat on Jungwon’s skin.

He moans with every quick snap of Jungwon’s hips; Jongseong holds him close, breathing him in, getting high on that heady feeling every time Jungwon scent marks him, or, even if in his own human way, he scent marks Jungwon. Jongseong is so hard, so worked up, so leaky he’s scared of touching himself now and ending this a little more quickly than he’d like to. He needs more. He needs more, he desperately needs—

Jungwon laughs. That same breathless sound, the self-assurance that he knows exactly what is going through Jongseong’s mind because of how he smells.

“Tell me,” he says, reaching to kiss the side of Jongseong’s face as Jongseong inhales him. “I want to hear you say it, come on.”

“Jungwon, please,” Jongseong whines, grabbing at Jungwon’s hair, moaning with every snap of Jungwon’s hips. “Please, please, come on, please.”

“Not that,” Jungwon says, shaking his head. Jongseong shakes his own head too, words traveling from the back of his mind to the tip of his tongue quicker than he’s okay with admitting. “Say it and I’ll give it to you, promise, just—”

“Fucking— Breed me, please,” Jongseong says, surprising even himself, but once the words are out, he moans, just as out of breath as Jungwon is. He repositions his face so they can look into each other’s eyes and lets his tongue run loose. “Put your babies in me, please— fuck, breed me, need to feel you come inside me, Jungwon—”

“See? You can use your words,” Jungwon whispers, pecking him on the lips with a mocking smile. “Gonna get you so full. You want that, don’t you? Put my— fuck— put my babies in you, breed your tight little hole—”

“Yes, yes, yes—”

Jongseong doesn’t know what it is that he feels swelling inside him now, not when the only thing his brain supplies him with is the need to be bred, to be so full of Jungwon’s cum he’s going to be leaking even though he wants to hold it inside him forever. Jungwon moans against his lips, eyes closing and brows pinching when he is surely getting closer, and all Jongseong can say is the same words over and over again, fuck me, breed me, come inside me, until Jungwon moans, loud, nasal and sincere, to the point he sounds almost whiny and Jongseong finally gets what he wants.

Jungwon’s cum is warm inside him, and there is so much of it too; that same thing that started swelling inside him grows bigger, and bigger, to the point it starts pressing against his prostate. Jongseong moans with the added stimulation, clenching around Jungwon to make sure not a single drop of his cum leaks out, and it’s the mixture of both — the unknown swelling growing against a sensitive spot inside him when he’s been worked up this whole time, Jungwon milking his own orgasm and adding to the neverending snap, snap, snap of that swelling against his prostate — that finally starts sending him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” Jongseong whispers, feeling sweat roll down his forehead. Jungwon’s breath is hot against his face, and he chases after Jungwon’s lips. “Keep fucking me, baby, just like that.”

Jungwon, also obedient, does as he’s told. Clumsily, only going deeper instead of pulling out and going in, hitting Jongseong’s prostate every fucking time. Jongseong opens his eyes again, coming face to face with a whiny Jungwon, clenching around Jungwon’s sensitive cock, jerking his hips to move his painfully hard cock and finally get his desperately needed release. He sees one of those evil smiles on Jungwon’s face, then that same dangerous glint in his eyes, and all of a sudden a wet hand wraps itself around the head of Jongseong’s cock.

“Oh my fucking—”

It takes two shallow strokes and one snap of the hips for Jongseong to close his eyes so tightly he sees white. Jongseong comes so hard he feels the first tears fall on his face, his whole body shudders, growing cold, and Jungwon has to swallow the sob that leaves his mouth with a harsh kiss. He shakes through his orgasm, cries through it too, all while his cock twitches in Jungwon’s hand and his belly is covered in his own cum.

Once he regains some control of his body, Jongseong starts begging Jungwon to stop touching him — Jungwon refuses, of course, but Jongseong manages to firmly pull his hand away from his cock and takes a deep breath. He feels his heart beating inside his chest in a way that almost makes him believe it’s going to rip his ribcage open and jump out at any second now. Jongseong breathes deeply again, and whines a little when he notices that same swelling pressing against his sensitive prostate.

Jungwon hasn’t moved from his spot on top of Jongseong. He’s balls deep still, unmoving. Jongseong opens his eyes, trying to read Jungwon’s expression through the spots in his vision.

“I get that you like me,” he starts, not as confident as he felt five minutes ago telling Jungwon to put a baby in him. Babies, actually. Plural. He clears his throat. “But you can pull out now.”

Jungwon scoffs. He drops a kiss on Jongseong’s cheek, though. “You really don’t know much about my anatomy, do you, Mr. Specialist?”

It takes Jongseong three seconds to remember he’s a researcher and he is in town to do some research. It takes another two for him to remember Jungwon isn’t a regular human, but a wolf-human. Anatomy was never his strongest subject in college, but he does remember a key aspect of male wolf-human anatomy that, besides the super-nose, separates them from regular humans.

“Holy shit.” Jongseong blinks up at Jungwon. “Did you knot me?”

“I mean, you technically asked for it,” Jungwon says with a giggle. At Jongseong’s silence, he drops another kiss on his cheek. “I would’ve pulled out if you didn’t want it.”

“I… Okay.” Jongseong accepts defeat. Yeah, he pretty much asked for it. “Five minutes, right?”

“Ten for me.” Jungwon shakes his head apologetically, but laughs when Jongseong groans. “Maybe more. Depends. You really asked for it.”

“You wanted it too!” Jongseong tries to push Jungwon away, but the stretch of the knot is a bit too much now that he isn’t blinded by horniness, and he yelps. “Fuck. Sorry. Ten minutes, maybe more, okay. Don’t leave.”

Jungwon giggles against Jongseong’s lips, kissing him. Funnily enough, Jongseong doesn't want to do much kissing now, tilting his face so he can bury his nose in Jungwon’s neck instead. The faint smell of tea and burning wood is, in fact, etched into his skin, making for a nice contrast with the more intense smell of sweat he picks up. Jongseong breathes him in, kisses his neck; Jungwon breathes him in too, kissing his lips. They stay like this for long minutes, not saying anything at all, until Jungwon finally pulls out and Jongseong, to his disappointment, feels some of his cum leaking out too.

“Oh no,” Jongseong murmurs, out of it. Hazy with Jungwon’s scent marking, tired after getting his brains fucked out. He giggles. “My babies.”

“I can give you more of those.” Jungwon snorts. He kisses Jongseong, pulls away. “In the next…”

“Ten days. Well, nine, if we consider the day is over,” Jongseong whispers. Jungwon stares at him head on, but he doesn’t look very confident. A hum, and Jungwon diverts his gaze. “Nine days.”

“Okay,” Jungwon whispers. “Nine days.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongseong tries pacing around, but he’s too sore from — everything. Fucking, being fucked, bending his legs at impossibly awkward angles for many different purposes, and basically being kept at a wolf-human’s mercy for over a week before he had to be at this exact worn-down train station.

He’s sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs waiting for the security guard to allow him and the very few other people there to board the train back to Seoul. Professor Heungchan dropped him off earlier, but that was it. Right now, all he has is his thoughts, his luggage, and—

“There are more humans than I expected here.”

Jungwon, too, sitting to Jongseong’s left, but he’s mostly silent, as he’s been the whole morning. He spent the night, of course, as he’s been doing for the past nine days. Ten? Anyway. He’s holding onto another worn-down backpack, staring openly at the mentioned very few people walking past them, and sniffing them occasionally. Jongseong hums at his comment.

“Not researchers,” he whispers, staring at his hands resting politely (read: nervously) on top of his thighs. “I’d know if they were.”

All he gets in response is a long hum. The train station is rather cold, but maybe Jongseong got used too quickly to Jungwon’s constant body warmth in his personal space in the past few days. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Jongseong promised himself he wouldn’t think about this because it doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. He has his interviews, his surveys, successful research recorded in every electronic device he owns, and he knows he should be happy to be able to go back to Seoul without the need to extend his trip, but the truth is that…

“I think I should let you know I stole one of your t-shirts.”

Jungwon’s words leave his mouth razor-sharp, not a hint of hesitation in them. They’re enough to pull Jongseong out of his definitely-not-sad thoughts with a slow turn of the head. Jungwon is picking on his cuticles, distracted.

“Which one?” Jongseong decides to ask.

“The one you were wearing yesterday. I think it’s something from your university.” Jungwon scrunches his nose, not looking at Jongseong at all. “Is it important to you?”

“Not really,” Jongseong mumbles. He looks at his own hands again, and the snort he lets out isn’t supposed to sound this sad, but he wasn’t supposed to be this sad either. “You should’ve told me earlier. I would’ve stolen something from you too.”

Jongseong can tell he’s being stared at. He doesn’t tend to be the one shying away from eye contact when it comes to these unspoken matters, but he doesn’t always get attached to a wolf-human he met only last month on a supposed business trip either. Jongseong doesn’t say anything else and eventually gives up getting an answer. A few more seconds of silence, and he hears Jungwon zipping his bag open and pulling something out. 

A medium-sized pouch is dropped on Jongseong’s thighs. He blinks at it, but when he moves to open it, Jungwon stops him.

“Don’t. Not now. Only after…”

“Okay,” Jongseong whispers. He looks at Jungwon and the way he’s squinting at the pouch. Jongseong looks at it too. “Can you at least tell me what it is?”

“It’s nothing. Nothing much, at least. Just…” Jungwon says, clearing his throat. “Soap.”

Jongseong blinks again. “Soap?”

“My family makes them. They’re not, like, scented. You can guess why.” Jungwon purses his lips, looking everywhere but at Jongseong. “I wanted to make you scented soaps, but they wouldn’t be ready in time. Sorry. They’re good for your skin, though.”

Jongseong looks at the little pouch on his lap. He squeezes it lightly, holding at least two soap bars in hand. He hears something crinkling too, or maybe crunching? Jungwon lets out a quiet ah. 

“I forgot I put some tea leaves in there,” he says. Jongseong looks at him, and, finally, Jungwon looks back. “Not too many. Wasn’t sure what you liked.”

Jongseong never got to drink the tea Jungwon makes frequently in the end. They spent the last few days too busy doing other things in Jongseong’s temporary cabin, and when they weren’t doing other things, they were talking. In bed, in front of the fire, on the balcony overlooking the lake, in the car whenever they went out to collect some more interviews. Jongseong should have asked to visit Jungwon’s home one more time, just to have another piece of Jungwon with him, at least in his memories.

“People would look at us weird if you scent marked me right now, wouldn’t they?” Jongseong asks, a faint whisper he isn’t sure reaches Jungwon’s ears at first.

But Jungwon laughs, then he nods. “They would.”

Of course they would. Jongseong nods too, accepting his reality a tad bitterly. He sees the smile leaving Jungwon’s face slowly, but also sees the moment Jungwon leans closer. Not for a kiss, because he rarely does that, but to brush his nose against Jongseong’s delicately, going a little cross-eyed. Something that surely would’ve been a whimper if Jongseong opened his mouth now gets stuck in his throat, and he thinks fuck it before he puts a hand on the back of Jungwon’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

What was supposed to be a quick thing turns into Jungwon melting and wrapping an arm around Jongseong’s shoulder too. Jongseong exhales quietly against Jungwon’s ear when he feels the familiar nose touching the side of his neck, breathing him in, and he distantly thinks Jungwon should have found a way to encapsulate this heady feeling to give him as a gift as well. Jongseong buries his nose in Jungwon’s neck too, hoping the tea in his pouch smells just like the one that’s etched in Jungwon’s skin, and closes his eyes to pretend they are alone in the world.

The security guard calling everyone to board the train to Seoul shatters the illusion rather quickly. Jongseong squeezes the back of Jungwon’s neck, unwilling to let go, but Jungwon has always been better at pulling away first. They put some distance between them, and Jongseong looks into Jungwon’s eyes, not missing the way his pupils are blown wide.

Jongseong opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Jungwon does the same, but, well, he doesn’t say anything either. In the end, they don’t really say anything else. Jungwon helps Jongseong with his luggage, and Jongseong stalls for a bit, letting older folks get in first while no words are exchanged. The security guard doesn’t rush him, but once there are only Jongseong and Jungwon left on the platform, he quietly announces the train is set to leave in five minutes. 

The heady feeling is already leaving Jongseong, so he selfishly comes closer and breathes Jungwon in one last time. He feels and hears Jungwon breathing him in too, and tries to commit everything to memory. After reluctantly letting go of each other, they exchange whispered goodbyes and Jongseong finally boards the train.

In the distance, as the train leaves the station, Jongseong believes it’s Jungwon’s tiny figure that he sees all alone on the platform.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongseong is too miserable to nap, too sad to read a book, but he is just the right amount of masochist to finally open the medium-sized pouch he’s been clutching for the past twenty minutes or so.

There are three soap bars in the pouch. They are a dark brown in color and an underwhelming nothing in scent, but that was expected. There are a few plastic bags with different tea leaves in them too, and Jongseong is about to take them out to sniff them one by one to figure out which one smells of Jungwon when he notices a folded piece of paper under everything else.

He takes it out. Opens it.

Jongseong’s heart starts hammering in his chest.

 

[email protected]

If you want to tell me, I want to hear more about your life in the big city.

 

He folds the paper again. He stares at the indents left by Jungwon’s pen and brings it closer to his nose, picking up the distant tea, a hint of burning wood.

Jongseong smiles quietly to himself and puts the note back right where he found it, heart beating easily in his chest again.

Notes:

fun fact i did actual math to make sure jungwon's hypothetical knot would go deep enough to reach jay's prostate and yes it's possible

thank you for reading :)