Chapter Text
Prologue
Jungkook's eyes glitter with fury as he enters No Name, Seoul’s most exclusive private club. He wants to slam the door and the fact that it closes behind him with the elegant, almost silent whoosh so often found in an extremely high class expensive establishment turns his mood pitch black.
An arranged marriage.
An. Arranged. Fucking. Marriage.
The words wash through him like the most vile poison. He is twenty seven years old and has to accept a marriage that his parents have arranged for him as if he is a medieval lord’s chattel.
His hands close into fists and he can feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest. He needs to do something, needs to get rid of this wrath that threatens to consume him.
He enters a dimly lit corridor, painted in a brown so dark that it is almost black, with an elegantly patterned carpet swallowing every decibel of sound. The walls are adorned by original artwork, a little too modern for his taste but in line with every interior design magazine of the last ten years.
Pushing against a heavy oak door that looks a hundred years old but is entirely the work of a skilled craftsman who was commissioned to make it when the club was built a little more than a decade ago, Jungkook walks into the room ahead.
It is dominated by a long bar made from dark cherry wood, polished chrome and pretentiousness. Jungkook can not recall the last time he has been here, it feels like an eternity, almost ten years. The club had opened not long before he came one night with his friends, to look around and get drunk, and maybe a little more than that. His life has changed since then. It no longer includes private clubs, fast cars or expensive clothes.
On any other Monday night he would close up shop after the last customer has left and then he and Yoongi would have barbeque and a couple of bottles of cold Soju in one of Gangseou-gu’s many small restaurants. They would haggle with the ajussi who runs the place to not short change them on their meat order, and go over the tattoos appointments they have scheduled for the week ahead. Tonight Yoongi will have to eat alone, which, knowing him, is instant ramyeon at his desk, hunched over a new design until his eyes start to burn.
Because tonight Jungkook is not good company, least of all for himself. His hands keep clenching into fists as he slips into a seat at the end of the bar and looks at his phone. A message from Alina, more than ten missed calls from his parents, an email for a tattoo consultation, and some Instagram reel Hobi sent. He turns his phone off and puts it face down on the counter. Not now. He can not deal with life now. Not his own, not someone else’s. The first line of Alina’s message is burnt into his brain.
Please don't leave.
His heart breaks for her but right at this moment he can't think straight enough to send a reply. Tomorrow he will talk to her. Reassure her that everything will be okay. But tonight…
"Good evening, Sir. What would you like to drink?" The bartender looks at him with a barely inquisitive look, waiting patiently for Jungkook’s answer. The staff are well trained and never in a hurry. If the building is on fire they would fill the drinks order first before calmly leaving.
"Whiskey, neat."
"Certainly." The man briefly bows and goes about fixing Jungkook’s order.
When the heavy crystal tumbler is placed in front of him he finishes the amber colored liquid in one angry gulp and pushes it back across the counter.
"Another one, ice this time." He wants to add a please but can't find any pleasantries in himself. There is nothing but white hot rage that roils through him, gathering all the fury and hatred it finds in its path.
For a while he stares at his drink before he stands up and wanders to one of the seating arrangements that are dotted around the room, sinking into a low couch, stretching his legs and leaning his head back with a sigh. All he wants tonight is oblivion. As unwise as getting drunk would be, it is also very tempting.
From the corner of his eye he sees someone come in and lazily turns his head to track the movement of the man who just entered the room.
The newcomer saunters towards the bar with unhurried steps, graceful like a panther with an aura that screams alpha. For a fleeting moment Jungkook wonders what he smells like and grimaces at the thought. He has bigger problems to deal with than wondering about a stranger's scent.
The man turns towards the room and slowly lets his eyes wander from the heavy furniture to the floor to ceiling windows that lead to a balcony with privacy screening. His eyes merely skim over Jungkook without really seeing him.
Jungkook wants to look away but there is something about this man that draws his gaze, an aura of power that radiates off him and fills the room. For a fleeting moment a faint scent of something warm and woodsy swirls towards him, but then it is gone again as quickly as it had appeared.
The man takes his glass of wine and wanders to one of the couches that stand a little to the side, almost hidden behind some large leafed indoor plants that in this establishment are definitely the real thing. No artificial foliage for the elite.
Jungkook closes his eyes again with a sigh. He just needs a moment’s peace to regroup after the events of today, just this evening to forget about the meeting with his father. Tomorrow he will have to face the disaster his life has become. But no matter how much he wishes for it, there is no reprieve. His thoughts circle back to the encounter in his parent’s penthouse earlier this afternoon.
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Jungkook had left home the day he turned eighteen with nothing but the clothes on his back and his self esteem in tatters. For as long as he could remember he had been told that he was a failure— as a son, an heir, an omega. He was too tall, too muscular, not soft enough, not at all demure or submissive. With the way he acted he would never find a suitable spouse because no self respecting alpha would ever want an omega like him. The words had been repeated to him so often that they had been indelibly inked on his mind.
His 18th birthday party had been arranged by an over-priced event planner and was a lavish affair that almost made him choke on the pink balloons and lilac fondant cake he was presented with. As he stood there in a shiny bright pink satin suit with a white ruffled blouse, which his mother had picked for him and was at least a size too small, he knew that he could not live the life they had envisioned for him any longer.
His petite alpha mother fluttered around him, her lips pinched in permanent disapproval, as she pulled and dragged to make the suit jacket fit over a frame that was all muscled chest and tiny waist.
"Jungkook, you really must stop this exercising nonsense. Omegas look so very coarse when they have an overbearing physique."
Jungkook shakes his head as if to dispel the thoughts that threaten to drag him back into the past. Tonight he couldn't, wouldn't think.
He sips his second drink slower than the first, wanting so badly to get drunk but resisting the temptation. His heat is coming up soon and in the week before he always is a lot more susceptible to his emotions and the hormones beginning to unbalance his body. Just one more thing to hate about being an omega.
From the recesses of his mind a small growl demands attention, but he slams the door closed on his wolf. He does not have the energy for this particular battle tonight. It isn't that he dislikes being an omega or doesn't listen to his wolf. What he despises are society’s expectations of what an omega should be like. It is something he has always struggled to understand but now they are so far into the twenty-first century that attitudes should have caught up. And it stuns him every time into helpless paralysis when he realises that is not the case.
He sits there staring into his drink for he doesn't know how long. It is as if he can not move, can not think or feel. In his head all he hears are his father’s words.
"We have arranged a marriage for you and you will be well advised to do as you're told and accept the offer that was made for you."
"Or what?" Jungkook had scoffed, disbelief clear on his face. "You know what, save it. I don't even want to know." He turned on his heels and made for the door before the walls closed in on him and trapped him in his parents penthouse forever.
Just as he was about to open the door to leave, his father’s cold voice stops him dead. "Resist and you’ll never see Alina again."
The words made his blood curdle and his breath jam painfully in his chest. Slowly he turned back to the man who had always been a stranger to him. "She will turn eighteen in a few years and then you won't be able to stop her from contacting me."
He wasn't sure how he would survive the next five years without seeing her but that was something he could figure out later.
"Oh no," his father replied with a grating laugh, and he sounded for once as if he was actually happy, "I mean you will never see her again. I will send her back to where she came from and you will never find her."
Ice engulfed Jungkook. "You wouldn't dare," he snarled, feeling his omega pacing with bared teeth.
"Of course I would. You should know by now that I always get what I want."
"She is your daughter," Jungkook all but screamed, not caring that he had sworn not to lose his temper in front of this man who he could barely stand to be around anymore.
Jeon Jiwon slammed a hand on his desk and glared at his son. "She is no such thing. She was merely a tax deductible charity project that is becoming bothersome. Adopting her was supposed to solidify our reputation as part of the elite in this town. Being charitable is chic, besides your mother always wanted a girl." He shook his head with a grimace of disgust. "Who could know that she would be as troublesome as you are. And she hasn't even presented yet. Let’s just hope she is not turning out to be another useless omega," he spat with venom lacing his voice.
For a moment Jungkook was tempted to smash a fist into his father’s face, pummel him until he was black and blue. He shut down his emotions, there was time for that later. Right now he needed to get out of here before what he wanted to do landed him behind bars.
"The wedding is in three weeks. I will send a courier with details next week," his father sounded as if his son’s acceptance was a foregone conclusion.
Jungkook was almost at the door when his fathers cold voice stopped him. "One more thing, if you ever breathe one word to that girl about all of this, I will send her back anyway."
The fact that Jungkook left the room without giving an answer made it clear to both men that his father had won this round. He finally had found a way to control his son through the only thing that meant anything to him.
Jungkook takes another sip of his whiskey, turning to look at the man who has been sitting motionless for the last few minutes.
Across the space their eyes meet and hold, not letting go as Jungkook gets up and saunters across the room.
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Taehyung walks up to the bar of No Name, every step measured and controlled. He can feel his body vibrating with barely suppressed aggressiveness. His wolf is snapping impatiently, trying to get him to react, to lash out and tear the place apart. The effort it takes to control not only his snarling wolf but also himself is the only thing that keeps Taehyung in check right now.
He orders a glass of red wine and looks around the large room while he is waiting. Everything is dark understated elegance, from the walls painted in a muted greyish blue to the chrome light fixtures and the heavy leather furniture dotted in intimate groupings everywhere.
Apart from one other man, sitting on a couch with his head back and eyes closed, Taehyung is the only patron in this place. He can’t tell if that is unusual because he has never been here before.
On any other Monday night he would be at home, trying to make something quick for dinner and then check on the kid’s homework. By the time they are in bed he would go over the next day’s schedule and give his father a quick call to make sure he is alright. Then a shower and fall into bed with the intention to read a few pages, but instead it would be a restless sleep by no later than 11pm.
His wolf snarls again, slowly running a dangerous claw against Taehyung’s insides, trying to provoke a reaction. He slaps it sharply on the nose, making it retreat with eyes that glow with rage.
He takes his glass and wanders towards the ceiling high windows that lead out to a balcony. If it was warmer he might consider sitting out there but then he spots a couch half hidden by the fronds of an indoor palm tree. With a sigh he sinks into a corner that is almost hidden from view and takes a sip of wine.
His phone vibrates in his suit pocket and as much as he wants to ignore it, he pulls it out and checks the message from Namjoon. His friend and lawyer has volunteered to stay with the kids, although they are maybe old enough to take care of themselves at this point. But the three of them enjoy spending time together and the fact that Namjoon would probably order them the greasiest burgers he could find along with milkshakes is always a selling point with Sora and Jiho.
Taehyung types out a quick reply and then turns off his phone. His thoughts go back to the board meeting this morning where he had come under scrutiny once again for being an unmarried man with two pups who had no mother. As if any of these crusty old men on the board knew anything about him and his life.
He is happy, his children are happy and there is no need to upset the status quo. Four times a year, for every quarterly meeting, he spends a large part of his time and patience on telling them that he has constantly improved not only the gross profit but also strengthened the company by diversifying their investments.
But since his abeoji had formally retired two years ago, the directors have increasingly tried to pressure him into marrying again.
So many nights Taehyung has prowled the apartment after the children are asleep to try and find a solution to what the board asks, or rather demands of him. His nightly ramblings have thrown the rest of his day off course when he drags himself into the kitchen the following morning to make breakfast and get everyone ready in time for school.
The wine, expensive as it is, burns his throat when he takes another sip. He isn't trying to get drunk, just to find a way to forget about everything for a few hours. Forget his responsibilities and schedules, forget the fact that his father is growing increasingly frail or that Sora is trying to sneak past him in the mornings, going to school with makeup on. Jiho is turning more and more sullen over the last few months and every time he tries to talk to him, his son just stomps off into his room, slamming the door shut on more than one occasion.
He takes a deep breath and tries to empty his mind but the words hammer against his temples, making his head hurt.
An arranged marriage.
An. Arranged. Fucking. Marriage.
Not what he wants. If there was a way to get out of it, to avoid it, to ignore it– he would have found it. The moon goddess knows he had thought about nothing else for months. Yet here he is, in an empty club on a Monday night, a stack of paperwork left on his desk at home that outlines the marriage with the Jeon Omega, as if they are talking about an inanimate object, not a person with feelings and dreams and wishes.
For a fleeting moment he wonders what compelled the other man to agree to this madness. And madness it is. He rubs his face with a weary sigh. They are a quarter into the 21st century and yet here he sits, trying to come to terms with the fact that he is about to accept a marriage forced upon him by other people.
Tiredness turns into the soft pounding of a beginning headache. Taehyung forces his eyes wide open, hoping that it will wake him up a bit more. He slowly looks around the empty room until his gaze stops, pulled in like a magnet by the solitary man sitting on a couch in the middle of the room.
The light is dim enough that he can not see much more than a well shaped silhouette, and yet he can not stop staring. There is something that draws him in. Maybe it is just the fact that there is no one else present. He catches himself staring but can do nothing to stop it.
Suddenly the man lifts his head and stares straight at him. Taehyung can feel the other man’s eyes bore into his own. Reality blurs for a moment and it is as if a spark ricochets through the room, bouncing off the walls, then off each man in turn before it settles into a humming tension that pulls them together.
Taehyung closes his eyes, trying to ignore the strange attraction that suffuses him. He feels out of sorts tonight, restless and tense, as if he is waiting for something but doesn't know what. For a brief moment he gives in to the anger that washes through him. Years and years of back breaking work to keep KimCorp afloat, to make it prosper and build it into something he and his father are proud of. And now all that is about to be derailed by a bunch of old men who had decided that the only thing to guarantee further success is for Taehyung to be married.
He might have to accept the marriage but if they think that he would parade his spouse in front of them like a circus show piece then they would have a long wait. Because he is marrying a stranger, and as far as he is concerned that is exactly what they would remain. There would be no pretending to be a happy family at corporate functions with a shy demure omega on his arm that will simper and smile at these stiff corporate fuckers who have succeded where others had failed– in making his life a misery.
With a sigh Taehyung takes another sip of wine when his eyes meet and hold those of the man who is now walking slowly towards him. The sight of the wide shoulders and the impossibly tiny waist, that looks as if he could fit his hands around it, makes his mouth water. As the man rakes a hand through his hair, his shirt rides up and reveals a sliver of skin that makes Taehyung’s breath quicken.
For the briefest moment there is a scent in the air, of yuzu and salt, fresh and clean and oh so enticing. Then the man sits down and all Taehyung can do is stare. Huge eyes in a face that is so beautiful it seems to be sculpted from marble. His skin looks impossibly soft and his lips beg to be devoured.
Taehyung tries to figure out if the stranger is an omega or alpha and just as he is about to ask, his wolf sits up with a snarl.
Mine! Want!
And as much as Taehyung wants to slap him down and tell him to be quiet, for once he agrees with his animalistic side.
"You're staring."
His head snaps up at the man’s words.
"I like it."
He sits down on the couch opposite Taehyung, who watches helplessly as a pink tongue glides over a tempting bottom lip. A frisson of something edgy and forbidden runs through him. A thrill he has not felt in too long. The deep breath he takes to steady himself seems to only encourage the other man.
He leans back on the couch, spreading his legs and letting one hand glide along a muscled thigh. The higher up it moves the more tense Taehyung becomes. Surely he wouldn't… not here, in the middle of the club.
The hand misses a semi hard cock straining against black jeans and travels upwards across abs that are clearly visible under a shirt stretched tight over taut muscles.
Taehyung’s eyes follow the movement as if all free will has been taken from him, his breath coming ever choppier as the man across from him pinches his own nipple and lets out a small moan. All the while he stares at Taehyung with a piercing gaze that is more than a little provocative before pulling his lip piercing again with gleaming white teeth.
There is something about him that makes Taehyung’s fingers itch to touch, to possess, to ravish. It is something he hasn't felt in too many years. It is foreign and disconcerting, making him feel slightly guilty and yet… and yet.
He inhales sharply, trying to figure out again if the other man is an alpha or an omega, but then the scent hits him again. Unusually light but unmistakably omegan.
"Are you gonna sit there staring for the rest of the night?" The man asks with a mixture of impatience and a little disdain.
"You're very forward, considering we haven't been introduced." Taehyung replies while trying to hide his need to move around on the couch. His cock is rock hard by now and all he wants is to fuck the beautiful man across from him until they are both a molten mess.
Slowly the man rises up and moves until he stands between Taehyung’s legs, so close that the heat from his body penetrates layers of clothing. Then he leans forward until their lips are mere millimeters apart.
"You want to know my name? Will it make you feel better about wanting to fuck a stranger?"
The flick of a tongue against his lips makes Taehyung move back in shock before he delves back in for more. A hand slowly wanders from his chest down to his painfully hard cock, not hesitating or tentative, but demanding and sure.
"Do you think anyone can see us here behind all these overpriced plants? What would happen if I went down on my knees and sucked your cock and someone turned the corner to see us. Would you let them watch? Would you cum so hard down my throat that I would gag?"
The words penetrate the hazy fog in Taehyung’s mind for a brief moment until their meaning registers and makes him moan. The sound echoes so loudly that he slaps a hand in front of his mouth, as if he could stuff it back inside and undo the sudden lapse of control.
The omega’s hand settles on his crotch and piercing eyes stare into his soul. He wants to look away because he knows he has to escape whatever is happening right now. If he gives into this temptation in front of him like he wants, like his alpha snarls at him to do, he will lose control.
"Ah, there it is. Don't try to fight the urge. Just surrender. We both know you want to." The smirk on the other man’s face suddenly makes Taehyung angry.
"Get out of my way."
He pushes the man, expecting him to move back and give him some space but all his efforts get him is an amused laugh.
"What if I don't?"
The question has a seductive undertone that makes Taehyung’s head spin.
"Then this is coercion." Taehyung can hear the self righteousness in his own tone and it makes his mouth clamp shut in frustration.
"You're such a terrible liar. We both know that I can not make you do anything you don't want to." The man stands up and towers over Taehyung, slowly running a pink tongue over his lips, his hands raised in mock surrender.
"See, I am not even touching you. In fact I changed my mind. I will leave you alone and find someone who is actually willing to fuck me."
The words make Taehyung’s wolf growl in rage. Mine. MINE.
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Jungkook turns away from the man on the couch as if to leave.
Three
Two
One
A hand clamps around his wrist, tight enough to hold him in place, not so tight that he can’t wrench free if he wanted. He doesn't want to. Slowly he turns back and watches the man rise until they are facing each other. He doesn't miss the brief flash of yellow that speaks of a wolf close to the surface and his omega sits up, suddenly interested. He pushes it to the corner of his mind and slams the door shut.
Tonight is not about instincts. His rage demands cold calculation. It needs to know that the man is in charge, not the beast. Which does not mean that he won't try to unleash the beast in someone else. If only to prove to himself that he can.
Jungkook steps so close to the man that their bodies touch and heat transfers from one to the other. His skin tingles with anticipation and his senses are as sharp as a honed blade. His eyes take in the features of the other man’s face. Eyes that are now dark brown again with perfectly shaped eyebrows that are mockingly raised, high cheekbones that give his face a sharp definition only seen in magazines, lips that are meant to be devoured.
He can hear the man’s heartbeat– too fast and yet almost in sync with his own, can feel the scorching heat that penetrates layers of clothing until it sears into his skin.
And the scent.
Subdued by a neutralising scent blocker there is a hint of walnut and amber, faint yet so very enticing. He leans closer, unable to resist, and runs his nose along the long elegant neck that tilts just a little.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at the almost imperceptible movement and he risks a covert look at the alpha’s face. Because the man who almost surrendered to him is definitely an alpha. The way his eyes flash amber again and he pulls back his lips in an almost growl that is more wolf than man is all the proof needed.
His breath quickens in excitement at coaxing a reaction like that out of the stranger and he does not try to hide his triumphant smile.
"See, no coercion needed," he whispers, voice laced with lust and smugness.
Another flash of amber and Jungkook’s face is held in large warm hands, his mouth ravished without mercy, making his omega want to roll over in surrender.
He lets himself fall into the passion that flares so hot he can barely breathe. Tonight he just wants to feel, he wants someone else to be in control and then wrest that control away from the alpha, if only to prove to himself that he can. But there is no room for clear thought, Jungkook does not want to consider all the things that are slipping from his control right now. The alpha’s hands circle his waist and jerk him close until their rock hard cocks grind together. The movement makes Jungkook gasp and the alpha takes that opportunity to plunder his mouth once more before he almost pushes Jungkook away.
"Not here," he rasps, "I will allow no one to watch when I fuck you into oblivion."
The blunt words make a wave of heat race along Jungkook’s spine. Not able to form words he just takes the other man’s hand and pulls him towards a long corridor.