Work Text:
The heavy bass of their comeback track thumped through the empty practice room,reverberating in their chests as Hamin and Bamby moved in perfect sync. Sweat dripped down their temples, their breath ragged from hours of relentless practice.
"Again," Bamby panted, rolling his shoulders as he reset his stance.
Hamin raised a brow. "You sure? You're shaking."
Bamby shot him a glare through the mirror."I can keep going."
But even as he said it, a strange heat coiled in his stomach, spreading through his limbs like wildfire. His breathing grew shallow, his vision hazy. The room suddenly felt suffocating, the air too thick, too charged.
He stumbled.
"Bamby—" Hamin reached out, steadying him by the wrist. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Bamby tried to answer, but his throat felt tight. His body was burning up, and the moment he met Hamin's eyes, he realized with horror what was happening.
His heat.
It was too soon. He wasn't prepared.
A soft whimper slipped past his lips, and Hamin stiffened. The scent in the air had changedsickly sweet, intoxicating, unmistakable.
"Fuck," Hamin muttered under his breath, his grip on Bamby tightening as a sharp wave of possessiveness clawed at his chest. His alpha instincts roared to the surface, demanding he claim, protect, devour.
Bamby braced himself against the mirror, his reflection looking back at him-flushed cheeks, sweat-dampened hair, pupils blown wide with helpless need.
"I-I didn't know it would come this early," he whispered, shame lacing his voice.
Hamin exhaled harshly, his hands curling into fists as he struggled against his instincts."Bamby, do you have suppressants?"
Bamby shook his head frantically. His body ached,skin hypersensitive to the slightest touch, his scent growing headier by the second. "I left them at home."
A dangerous silence filled the room.
Then, Bamby whimpered again-soft, needy, desperate.
Hamin's self-control shattered.
In an instant, he had Bamby pinned against the mirror, his chest pressing against Bamby's trembling back.
"You don't know what you're asking for," Hamin
growled into his ear, his breath hot against Bamby's skin.
Bamby shuddered. "Please...."
That single word undid him.
Hamin's lips crashed against the nape of Bamby's neck, sucking bruises into his heated skin, his hands roaming lower, gripping his waist possessively. Bamby gasped at the touch, pressing himself against the glass, leaving fogged breath marks on the surface.
The mirror trembled with the force of their movements, the reflection showing the way Bamby's body arched under Hamin's touch, the way their sweat-slicked skin glowed under the dim fluorescent lights.
"Look at yourself," Hamin murmured darkly, tilting Bamby's chin so he could see their reflection. "See how much you need me?"
Bamby's breath hitched. He could barely recognize himself-his expression completely wrecked, his body trembling from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.
They didn't stop at the mirror.
Hamin lifted Bamby onto the ballet barre next, gripping his thighs to keep him steady as he pressed deep kisses along his collarbone. The cold metal dug into Bamby's back, a sharp contrast to the heat of Hamin's touch.
The speakers still hummed with the remnants of their track, but neither of them cared anymore.
Every inch of the practice room became a witness to their feverish passion—the walls, the floor, the mirrors fogged with their ragged breaths. Hamin took him against every surface,ensuring that wherever Bamby turned, he would remember this moment, this feeling, this undeniable claim.
When it was over, Bamby lay panting against Hamin's chest, his body exhausted but satisfied. Hamin wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead.
"You okay?" he murmured.
Bamby nodded weakly, curling into the alpha's
warmth. "Better now."
Hamin chuckled, stroking his hair. "You're not walking home after this. I'm taking you with me."
Bamby hummed in agreement, his scent now fully
entwined with Hamin's.
Maybe this was just a heat.
Or maybe, it was something much more.
— end. 🖤💗