Chapter Text
The air in the room was thick with the intoxicating sweetness of strawberries, a cloying warmth that seemed to sink straight into his skin and curl around his thoughts. It lingered in every breath he took, heavy and dizzying, until it became impossible to tell where the scent began and where it ended.
His mind felt hazy, overwhelmed, reduced to the simple awareness of heat, of the other boy’s body pressed flush against his own, trembling as if it were afraid to let go.
“Wooyoung…” he called, his voice barely more than a whisper, unsteady despite his effort to keep it calm. He tilted his head closer, searching for his eyes, desperate to ground him, to catch what last from him.
The response was immediate. A broken, breathless moan slipped free, and Wooyoung clung to him tighter, fingers fisting in his clothes as though the slightest distance might make him disappear.
“Sannie, please…” Wooyoung whimpered, the words spilling out in a rush, raw and unguarded. His voice cracked with need and fear all at once.
“Don’t leave me alone, I beg you. I know you’re not an alpha—I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. I just… I need you.” He swallowed hard, forehead pressing into San’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to go through my heat alone. I don’t want to go through it without you.”
Something in San’s chest twisted painfully at the sound of it. He felt Wooyoung’s vulnerability like a physical ache, felt the way his whole body seemed to be bracing for rejection. Slowly, gently, San lifted a hand, resting it against Wooyoung’s back, steady and warm.
His expression softened, every doubt melting away. How could he ever leave him like this?
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly, firmly, as if the words themselves were a promise he meant to keep no matter what. “Don’t worry. I’m right here. I’ll stay by your side I promise.”
***
Wooyoung woke up to the aggressive buzz of his phone rattling against the bedside table, a sound far too loud and far too rude for whatever hour it was supposed to be. He cracked one eye open, immediately regretted it, and groaned as if the ceiling itself had personally offended him.
Every muscle in his body protested when he stretched an arm toward the noise. It felt like he’d been hit by a truck or maybe trampled by several.
This heat had been hard.
His fingers fumbled blindly until they finally closed around the phone, vision swimming as the screen’s light stabbed straight into his skull.
Wooyoung answered the call and turned on the speaker before letting his head drop back into the pillow, burying half his face in it like that might protect him from human interaction.
“What do you want, Seonghwa…” he groaned, voice muffled, exhausted, and not even remotely polite.
A soft laugh crackled through the speaker. “Good morning to you too, Wooyoung.”
“Mmh,” he replied, eyes already closing again.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Seonghwa continued, voice careful now, “I know you still have one day off before you go back to work, but… I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”
That alone was enough to make Wooyoung sit up. He dragged himself upright, ignoring the soreness of his body, running a hand through his messy hair before letting out a long, very long defeated sigh.
“No, please don’t do this,” he whined, already bracing himself.
He knew Seonghwa too well, knew that gentle tone, knew what followed.
“You know I just got rid of my heat. I still need at least one proper day to recover, Seonghwa…”
On the other end of the line, Seonghwa hummed, the sound heavy with sympathy. “I know. I really do. And I’m sorry.”
Wooyoung’s stomach sank.
“But,” Seonghwa continued, “the Kim agency wants us to meet today.”
And just like that, any hope of going back to sleep vanished.
“You have to be kidding me,” Wooyoung scoffed, disbelief sharp in his tone as he stared up at the wall. “Weren’t we supposed to meet them next month?”
A brief pause, then Seonghwa hummed. “We were. But it seems their CEO suddenly grew very eager to discuss our future collaboration.”
Wooyoung let out a long, painfully long, whine and let his body go limp, flopping back into the mattress like a man who had officially given up on life.
“Couldn’t they have picked literally any other day,” he muttered, dragging an arm over his face, “preferably one where I’m not still recovering from hell itself?”
“I’m really sorry, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said gently. “I wish I didn’t have to push you like this. But… I really need my co-director with me.”
The sincerity in his voice made it impossible to argue, even if Wooyoung desperately wanted to.
“It’s alright,” He reassured, “I guess it is. And I know how important this collaboration is for you. At what time is the meeting?”
Seonghwa exhaled softly, like he’d been holding his breath. “Lunchtime.”
Wooyoung’s eyes flicked to the clock on his nightstand.
10:12.
There was a beat of silence on the line. Then, Seonghwa added cautiously, “Actually, we are supposed to meet them at this rather chic restaurant where we sometimes go, do you see the one I’m talking to?”
Of course Wooyoung knew, and now, he didn’t mind that much having his day off taken away from him.
“You pay for my meal then.” He snorted and Seonghwa’s laugh echoed immediately through the speaker.
“I will, thank you so much Wooyoung. I’ll come pick you up in an hour so we can discuss properly about the upcoming meeting.”
The call ended with a soft click, the sudden silence in his room almost deafening after Seonghwa’s voice. Wooyoung stared at the phone for a long second before letting it fall onto the mattress beside him.
“…An hour,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. “Great…”
With a groan, he forced himself out of bed. His legs wobbled slightly when his feet met the floor, body still sluggish, muscles sore in that deep, lingering way that reminded him he hadn’t fully recovered yet. He stretched carefully, hissing under his breath when his lower back protested, then glanced around the room.
The mess was… impressive.
Pillows tossed everywhere. Sheets twisted and half on the floor. Clothes discarded like he’d been attacked by a very aggressive laundry monster. Even the air felt thick, heavy with his strawberry pheromones that hadn’t dissipated yet.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. No time to wallow. Seonghwa would absolutely comment if he showed up looking like he’d crawled out of a disaster zone.
He started with the bed, peeling off the sheets and shoving them straight into the laundry basket, not even bothering to be gentle. Windows cracked open next, letting in cool morning air that made him shiver but helped clear his head. He spritzed neutralizer around the room out of habit, even though his heat had ended yesterday. Old reflexes died hard.
As he moved, the fog in his mind slowly lifted, replaced by something closer to his usual sharpness.
Work.
Seonghwa wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t serious. The Kim agency wasn’t just another potential collaborator, they were influential, well-connected, and notoriously difficult. If they were suddenly eager, that meant opportunity… or trouble. Either way, Seonghwa needed him there.
That was always how it worked between them.
Wooyoung straightened up, leaning briefly against the dresser as he caught his breath. Being co-director wasn’t just a fancy title. He handled negotiations, brand direction, and partnerships. The parts of the fashion world that required charm, teeth, and a refusal to be intimidated. Seonghwa, as CEO, was the visionary, the face, the name people trusted. An alpha with a reputation for elegance, breaking the norms and quiet authority.
Wooyoung was the balance.
They’d built the agency together from the ground up. Long nights, shared stress, shared victories.
Somewhere along the way, Seonghwa had become more than his boss. He was family. The kind of friend who apologized for calling during a heat recovery and meant it. The kind who trusted Wooyoung enough to say I really need my co-director with me and know he’d show up anyway.
The kind of friend that never left his side. And never promised they would stay.
Wooyoung clicked his tongue softly and pushed himself upright again.
“Guess I’m functional,” he said to no one, shuffling toward the bathroom.
A quick shower helped wash away the worst of the soreness and the lingering reminders of his heat. He dressed carefully, nothing too tight, nothing too loose, opting for comfort with just enough polish to look intentional. By the time he caught his reflection again, he looked like himself. A little tired, sure, but sharp where it counted.
***
By the time the knock on his door came, Wooyoung was fully dressed, shoes polished, hair tamed, and expression carefully neutral. He opened the door to Seonghwa’s familiar silhouette, crisp suit, hair perfectly styled, eyes calm yet gleaming with that quiet intensity that always made Wooyoung both nervous and comforted at the same time.
“You look… awake,” Seonghwa said, raising a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching with humor.
“Barely,” Wooyoung muttered, stepping aside to let him in. “Coffee or mercy first?”
Seonghwa chuckled, stepping inside and dropping his coat onto the chair. “Coffee’s overrated. Mercy… maybe later.”
They left together, side by side, the city buzzing awake around them. The streets humming with the first stirrings of the morning rush and the smell of fresh bread and coffee drifted through the air. Wooyoung’s mind, however, was far from the mundane charm of the streets; he was already bouncing questions off Seonghwa before they even reached the car.
“Seriously,” Wooyoung said, sidestepping a puddle of water, “In your opinion… Why the sudden rush to talk about the collaboration? I mean, what’s the CEO of the Kim agency thinking, huh? Did he wake up today and just decide, ‘Today, let’s stir things up’?”
Seonghwa shrugged, his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat as they walked. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, scanning the crowd. “Maybe he’ll explain himself when we meet him. Or maybe he just likes to keep people guessing.”
Wooyoung huffed, pulling a face that could only be described as part pouting, part exasperation. “Keep people guessing? I don’t even like guessing in board games, let alone in my career.”
Seonghwa’s lips quirked in amusement. “Well, life isn’t a board game, Wooyoung. But I guess it’s your turn to roll the dice.”
They reached the car, and Wooyoung slid into the passenger seat, still muttering under his breath as he fumbled with his seatbelt. But then his eyes widened, his thoughts catching on a sudden detail he hadn’t considered.
“Wait,” he blurted, his voice pitched with sudden realization. “Isn’t the agency’s CEO an omega?”
Seonghwa, already leaning back in the driver’s seat, paused with a hand on the ignition. A faint smile played on his lips as he nodded. “I think so.” The engine rumbled to life, filling the small space with a comforting growl. “Why? Does it matter that much?”
Wooyoung leaned back, triumphant. “Then it makes perfect sense,” he declared. “He’s excited about the collaboration because our agency’s gaining serious influence in the fashion world and because its CEO is a gorgeous, powerful alpha.”
Seonghwa exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not,” Wooyoung shot back. “You’re a softie, Seonghwa. A total sweetheart. A cutie patootie, even. But people don’t see that through cameras. They see the aura. The face. The presence.”
Seonghwa glanced at him, unimpressed. “And if that is the case?”
“Well, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Wooyoung shrugged. “As an omega I know how hard it can be to be taken seriously. Plus, the collaboration is good for us too and we were looking for it to happen!”
“In other words, you’re just whining because they got you out of your bed.” Seonghwa teased.
“Cut it out,” Wooyoung snapped with a playful smile on his lips. “I’m gonna be grumpy now because I couldn’t rest properly.”
“I really am sorry,” Seonghwa said again, quieter now, eyes fixed on the road. “If this feels like too much, we can keep it short.”
Wooyoung scoffed softly. “Please. If I survived my heat, I can survive one lunch with rich people who like to hear themselves talk.” He glanced sideways at Seonghwa, then added more gently, “And you don’t have to keep apologizing. I’m here because I want to be.”
That earned him a small smile. The kind Seonghwa rarely showed outside closed doors.
“What would you do without me!”
That earned Seonghwa rolling his eyes and a shared laugh.
The drive passed in comfortable conversation. Logistics, talking points, subtle warnings about the Kim company’s tendency to test boundaries. By the time they pulled up in front of the restaurant, Wooyoung felt almost… ready.
Almost.
Something felt off…
The place was as chic as Wooyoung remembered: glass façade, minimalist signage, the kind of understated luxury that screamed money without ever raising its voice. Inside, soft music hummed beneath the murmur of conversation. The hostess greeted them with a polished smile and led them to a private table near the windows.
The CEO of the Kim agency noticed them immediately, eyes narrowing for a second before standing up from his seat and approaching the duo.
He was not taller than Wooyoung but his presence was… A lot.
Cherry pheromones curled softly around him. A very handsome midnight blue suit. Sharp features. Dark hair styled back with a few strands falling over his forehead. A confident smirk playing on his lips as he detailed Seonghwa and Wooyoung.
“Director Park,” he said warmly, extending a hand. “I’m Kim Hongjoong, the CEO of the Kim agency, I’m so glad you could make it on such short notice.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” Seonghwa replied with a polite smile, shaking his hand with practiced ease. “This is my co-director, Jung Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung offered his brightest, most disarming smile, the one that had won over investors and critics alike. “A pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The omega’s gaze lingered on him for a beat longer than necessary before he chuckled. “All good things, I hope.”
“Only the best,” Wooyoung said smoothly, already settling into his role.
A man approached from behind Kim Hongjoong, his footsteps swallowed by the low murmur of the room. Wooyoung barely registered at first. Until the air shifted.
Citrus. Sharp.
The scent slammed into him without mercy, sinking into his lungs like a memory he hadn’t given permission to surface. His breath hitched, instincts screaming before his mind could catch up. That scent was wrong, too strong, too dominant, unmistakably alpha.
And then Wooyoung saw him.
The world tilted violently, like someone had kicked the ground out from under his feet. His vision narrowed, sound dissolving into a distant hum. Broad shoulders he knew by heart. That familiar posture, relaxed yet guarded. The face that had once hovered inches from his own in the dark, whispering promises that now felt like cruel jokes.
No.
No, no, no—
How… What…?
He had vanished years ago. One night he’d been there. Warm, breathing, tangled with Wooyoung between shared sheets and half-spoken dreams. The next morning he was gone.
No note. No warning. No goodbye. Just an empty space where a person, a lover, had existed. And silence ever since. Not a message. Not a rumor. Nothing.
And now he was here.
Worse. He was changed.
That scent hit Wooyoung again, harder, when their eyes met, undeniable and devastating, shredding another layer of disbelief. Alpha. When he had always presented as a beta when they were together, safe, steady, familiar. This felt like meeting a stranger wearing the skin of someone he used to love.
“Park Seonghwa, Jung Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said calmly, completely unaware of Wooyoung’s chest turmoil. His voice cut through the chaos just enough to keep the omega upright.
“This is my co-director, Choi San.”