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Mingyu doesn't know how things got this far. It was never supposed to happen, but then it did and it happened again and again and again and it never stopped. As far as he knows, it should be nearly impossible to work out, way too many contradicting factors combining. A fault, a mistake, an anomaly.
This is all to say that he shouldn't be here, grinding against his mattress at the peak of his rut, two fingers frantically thrusting in and out of Wonwoo. He shouldn't be on the verge of yet another orgasm as he watches the mess between his legs, a disgustingly sticky mix of lube and his own cum easing the slide.
It's all over textbooks in school, all his parents have taught him, all that's considered 'normal': Alphas in rut can enlist the help of Omegas to soothe the symptoms. Alphas in rut are territorial and will feel an inherent need to dominate. Alphas in rut react negatively to other Alphas' scents.
Yet here he is, the heady scent of Wonwoo mixing with the scent of his own arousal, a dizzying mix of pheromones trapped in his room, only serving to spur him on further.
"Hyung," he whines, hips losing rhythm as he feels the coil in his lower stomach tighten, "please. Please, I need it."
Wonwoo's fist tightens in his hair, long strands slipping between his knuckles. In a show of mercy, he lowers one of his legs and slips it between Mingyu's, bare skin on bare skin as he grinds down.
"Fuck, look at you, Mingyu-yah. So fucking needy." He yanks his head up, forcing another moan out of him. "Gonna get off on my leg? Rut against it like a good pup?"
Mingyu could die of embarrassment if it weren't for him being so painfully turned on. He doesn't know exactly when their meet-ups evolved from simple handjobs to this, but he sure as hell isn't complaining. Not when he’s moments away from his third orgasm since he called Wonwoo over. The first one on his couch, barely having made it out of his shirt before he soiled his underwear solely from some dry humping (not his proudest moment). The second one: Wonwoo face down ass up, him sliding his dick between his cheeks, his precum serving as lube. The third one? Hopefully within a few seconds, his dick spilling over onto Wonwoo’s leg or in his hands or mouth or—well, anywhere really. He’ll take anything, as long as it relieves the burning feeling in his stomach.
He nods at Wonwoo’s words, the ability to form proper sentences having seen its way out the moment he wrestled himself out of his clothes and climbed onto his bed. Everything is so slick, the sounds in the room absolutely filthy as he continues to work him open, so fucking close to the finish line. But Wonwoo—fucking confident, six-foot tall, annoyingly handsome Alpha Wonwoo who likes taking it up the ass—pulls his leg away, the drag of his hair against his leaking cock pure torture as the pressure slowly disappears.
“Come here, baby,” Wonwoo says, a teasing tone to his words, patting his thigh.
Like the good boy he is, Mingyu does exactly that, moves up on the bed and straddles his waist, erections brushing against each other. Wonwoo groans at the sensation, a hand wrapping around Mingyu’s wrist to stop his ministrations. It should be infuriating how calm he manages to stay whenever they do this, but at least one person has to remain level-headed between the two of them, so he puts up with it and begrudgingly pulls his fingers out.
Wonwoo’s fingers wrap around his length, the copious amounts of precum helping the slide as he begins working his way down, then back up, and repeating the process until Mingyu’s a squirming mess in his lap. Without even having to say anything, Wonwoo knows exactly when he’s right at the edge, falling over with a brush of his thumb over his tip.
“You’re fucking leaking, Min. Look at this.” And then, like the heathen he is at heart, he brings his soiled hand to his lips, darts out his tongue and runs it along his palm.
What. The. Fuck.
If he weren’t already in rut right now, he might as well have gone into a spontaneous one at the gesture.
“Hyung, you can’t-you can’t just do that. Holy shit.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he smirks. “On your back.”
It’s that fucking smirk. The smirk that has him weak in his knees, makes him feel weird things in his stomach, makes him follow his words without question.
Mingyu flushes hot as he rolls off Wonwoo and leans back against the mattress. Within seconds, Wonwoo is throwing his legs around him, hand wrapping back around his sensitive cock.
“God, baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” The oversensitivity is a bitch, leaving him bucking his hips—unsure if it’s to escape or come closer— and gasping, breathing out variations of Wonwoo’s name like it’s the only word he’s ever learned. “Gonna let me take you? Gonna fill me with your fat cock, hm, alpha?”
“Wonwoo—”
It comes out choked, desperately reaching for air as Wonwoo’s low voice enters his eardrums. Him and his filthy mouth are going to be the end of him one day. With Wonwoo reaching for the bedside table and grabbing the forgotten bottle of lube, spreading it all over his dick, the day may be closer than he initially thought.
One last look in his eyes from Wonwoo’s side and a nod from Mingyu is all he needs to shift his weight to his knees and reach back, lining up Mingyu with his entrance and sinking down. Bless his ancestors for having virtually non-existent refractory periods during their ruts. With a bed partner like Jeon Wonwoo, it comes in handy.
It shouldn’t make sense for this to feel good. Wonwoo’s always bordering the line of painfully dry despite their best efforts with lube (and other fluids), always so unbelievably tight despite the foreplay, always so rough with his movements.
It’s all wrong.
But, fuck, if it doesn’t feel like the best thing the world could ever offer to Mingyu. Jeon Wonwoo, his roommate from back in college, sinking down on his cock, taking it like he was fucking born to do so, mouth hanging open and eyes closed as his ass takes and takes and takes until he’s fully seated.
Wonwoo doesn’t take his time to adjust—something about him liking the sting—as he starts circling his hips. It’s ridiculous how quickly Mingyu gets close again, mere moments after swearing the previous orgasm would be his last. Fuck his rut. And Fuck Jeon Wonwoo.
You are, a small voice supplies in his head. Very helpful.
Technically, he knows he’s not supposed to touch Wonwoo without permission when they’re like this. Technically, he’s also a rut-stupid alpha whose only instincts are telling him to fuck the living daylights out of his partner and touch him wherever he pleases, to make him feel good. Stupid alpha instincts.
Wonwoo tsks when his hand squeezes his thigh, running up his side all the way to his waist.
“Aw,” he coos, fake saccharine voice in stark contrast with the sinful movement of his hips, “can’t keep your hands to yourself? Want to touch that badly?”
Really, all Mingyu can do is nod like a fool. Wonwoo has that effect on him. The action is of no help, though, since Wonwoo slows down to torturously lazy grinds as he grabs his hands and pins them above his head.
“Please, hyung, please. I’ll be good,” he pants against the other’s lips, hanging over him like the greatest temptation there is.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Oh, please, hyung. I’ll be a good little alpha for you. Is that it?” One roll of his hips. “Fuck me until I can feel you even after we’re done?” Another roll as he plants his feet on the mattress, moving his hands to hold both his wrists in one, the other under his chin. “Fill me with your pups?”
He tugs at his jaw, forces him to meet his eyes. In all other situations, eyes like these would spell trouble, one of the first signs of danger, but now Mingyu finds himself unable to look away, has to fight the urge to keep his hips still.
“Knot me?” He slams his hips down. “Claim me? Ruin me for everyone else?” His pace picks up, every thrust down bringing Mingyu closer and closer to the brink of insanity. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah—fuck—yes, oh my God,” Mingyu whimpers, crashing his lips into Wonwoo’s as he starts thrusting up into his heat, all tight and hot and unbearable. “Shit, hyung, ‘s so good. Always feels so good.” When Wonwoo rolls his hips down just in time with his thrust, he swears he starts seeing stars. “Shit shit shit, hyung, I—so close. Please.”
“Not yet, baby,” he shushes. “Hyung first.”
And then he’s letting go of his wrists and chin, planting his palms right on top of Mingyu’s knees. He’s all broad shoulders and taut muscles and rigid lines, all splayed out for him. Heavy cock dangling between his legs with every thrust of his hips, head rolled back in pleasure, and his stomach—God, his fucking stomach. He can see himself, going in and out and in and out and in and out—a hypnotizing motion.
“Fucking hell, Min,” Wonwoo groans out, so close to his own peak. Mingyu can smell it, his scent getting more intense with every thrust, every moan he lets slip. “You’re so deep.”
Mingyu lets his hand wander to his stomach, feeling his bulge move with every shift of his hips, his eyes drawn to the spot. His mind starts drifting to dangerous places, to Wonwoo with a pregnancy bump, carrying his—their—pups, proof that he’s his. He can’t tell if it’s the rut talking or his innermost desires.
“That’s all you, baby,” Wonwoo whispers, bringing his hand down to cover Mingyu’s own. “Such a good alpha. So big inside me. Perfect for me.”
It’s all so much to take in, so many sensations all at once that he’s unable to focus on one. It’s Wonwoo and his sweet words, his sinful body, the absurdity of the situation they’re in, the way he wants to stay like this forever—all of it. All of it at once is overwhelming, a little terrifying.
“I can’t. Please, hyung, I can’t hold it. I need to—”
His voice is so rough, so ruined that Wonwoo finally takes pity on him.
“You wanna knot me, Min?” he asks, clenching down simultaneously, and before Mingyu can even become fully aware of it, he feels his cock swelling at the base.
“Yes, please—can I?”
“That’s a good boy.” Wonwoo leans down and braces his arms on both sides of Mingyu’s head, a soft kiss on his nose to seal the deal. “Do it, baby.”
Their position is anything but ideal for it, but once he starts he can’t possibly stop and before he knows it, Wonwoo’s head falls down against his own, panting into his mouth as he gets pushed over the edge, Mingyu following seconds after. He comes and he comes and he keeps on coming and it’s borderline embarrassing how much his body still has left, but then Wonwoo goes slack in his arms and the tiredness hits him at the same time.
Maneuvering them into a more comfortable position takes up all the remaining strength in his body, but they manage to find themselves on their sides after a few attempts, both still coming down from their highs, trying his hardest not to let anything spill out of Wonwoo.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, running a hand down his back, careful not to get too low. His alpha instincts are back in full tow now that he’s somewhat coming out of his rut, ready to protect and take care of his mate—his Wonwoo in this case.
“No,” Wonwoo huffs, burrowing his face in his chest. “You are stupidly big.”
“You’re bigger,” he says matter-of-factly, because it is. Jeon Wonwoo is a big alpha with a big build and a big dick, both literally and figuratively.
He can feel his face warm up against his chest. “Your point? You’re not the one getting knotted every time.”
There’s a pang of guilt shooting through his gut. “Sorry, I—”
“I’m kidding, Min.” He lifts up his head along with one of his arms, pushing back the hair off of his forehead. “You know I like it. You’re always good to me. But,” he starts, a mischievous smile on his face, “I won’t stop you if you make me ramyeon as a form of apology when your knot goes down.”
Mingyu hums contentedly as he pulls Wonwoo closer, jostling his knot in the process and earning him an annoyed “Stop moving, you dummy. I’m sore,” as a result. He settles his nose in the crook of his neck, the comforting scent of Wonwoo seeping through the air and finally, finally, calming the storm inside of him.
“Hyung, thank you.”
He turns his head just enough to catch Wonwoo’s lips, a short kiss wrapped in lazy smiles and soft eyes.
“Don’t mention it.”
Maybe one day, they’ll talk about this—them—and figure out the specifics, but today is not that day, and it doesn’t have to be.
“By the way,” Wonwoo continues, “my rut is coming up next month.”
The question goes unasked.
“I’ll be there. Always.”
It should be nearly impossible for this to work out, but it does for them. That’s all that counts.