The Morning After

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, soft and golden. The room still held the lingering scent of the night before. Akira was already dressed, sharp in black as always, sipping coffee as he adjusted his cufflinks.

Cherry, however, was still curled up in bed, tangled in the sheets. His cheeks flushed red, sweat beading across his forehead. Akira noticed instantly, his eyes narrowing.

He walked over, hand on Cherry’s forehead.

“You're burning up,” Akira muttered, then paused. “...Tch. You're in heat.”

Cherry blinked up at him, dazed and teary. “H-Huh... what?”

Akira stood straight. “J! Bring the suppressants.”

J entered silently and handed the small bottle. Akira passed the tablet to Cherry. “Here. Take this. Rest. It'll calm the symptoms.”

Cherry took the tablet with shaky hands, his body already trembling. As Akira turned to leave, Cherry grabbed his shirt weakly.

“W-Where are you going…?”

Akira crouched near the bed, brushing Cherry’s hair back. “I have an important meeting. I’ll be back tonight. Take the pills if it gets too much, okay?”

Cherry nodded slowly.

Akira turned to J. “No one is to enter his room. Not even you.”

J bowed. “Understood.”

With that, Akira left the apartment.

Scene: Later That Day — Heat Rising

Cherry lay in bed, eyes half-lidded, panting, clutching at the sheets as the heat clawed through his body. The pills weren’t enough. His body ached. Desperate, he reached for his phone with trembling fingers and dialed a familiar number.

“…Jiyu…”

……..

The room was dim, shadows stretching long under the low golden light of the lamp. Cherry lay on the bed, sweat clinging to his skin, eyes hazy with discomfort and need. His breathing came in shallow bursts, hands curling around the blanket as if grounding himself.

The front door creaked open, hurried steps echoed, and then the bedroom door swung wide.

“Cherry,” Jiyu whispered, voice low, urgent.

Cherry’s eyes fluttered open, and the moment they met Jiyu’s, something clicked. Without another word, Jiyu was beside him, brushing back his damp hair, cupping his burning cheek. The tension between them was immediate—thick, electric.

Jiyu leaned closer, his breath hot against Cherry’s lips. “I’m here… I’ll take care of you.”

Cherry didn’t respond with words—he didn’t need to. The way he clung to Jiyu’s shirt, the way his body leaned into him, desperate yet trusting, said it all.

Their bodies tangled on the sheets, movements slow but hungry, lips brushing skin in hurried devotion. Jiyu held him like he might break, but kissed him like he never would. The room filled with soft gasps, the faint rustle of sheets, and the rain tapping against the windows like a fading heartbeat.

Nothing needed to be said. In that moment, Cherry wasn’t alone.

---

Scene: That Night — 8:00 PM

The front door clicked open.

Cherry greeted him, fresh from the shower. His cheeks pink, a nervous smile plastered on.

Akira’s eyes narrowed. His fingers reached out and tangled in Cherry’s hair.

“…Wet?”

Cherry smiled nervously. “I just showered.”

Akira pulled him closer, burying his face in Cherry’s neck. One long inhale—and his expression darkened.

“That scent… another alpha.”

Cherry froze. “N-No! Akira, I was alone—!”

Without a word, Akira shoved him aside and stormed toward the bedroom. Cherry scrambled after him, pleading.

Akira scanned the room—clean sheets, undisturbed furniture. Nothing out of place. He turned, staring down at Cherry.

Gripping Cherry’s shirt, he yanked him close and whispered in a low, dangerous voice:

“I don’t care who you sleep with… but not in my house.”

Cherry’s lips trembled. “G-Got it.”

Akira shoved him roughly onto the floor and walked away, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Sitting on the couch, he drank silently as the rain returned—soft at first, then heavier, matching the storm in his chest.

Cherry, crying quietly, locked himself in the bedroom.

---

Scene: Midnight — 12:09 AM

Akira sat slouched on the single-seater sofa, glass still in his hand, ice melted. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting pale blue light across the floor.

The door creaked open. Cherry stepped out, holding a blanket.

He walked toward Akira and gently waved his hand in front of his face—checking if he was asleep. Akira didn’t move.

Cherry sighed, eyes soft. “At least… take care of yourself.”

He draped the blanket over him and turned to leave.

The door clicked shut.

Akira’s eyes opened.

He pulled the blanket off with one hand and let it fall to the floor.

“…Tch. Disgusting,” he muttered, taking another sip.

From across the room, Aki sat perched on the larger couch, arms crossed, watching him.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Aki said softly. “He’s trying, you know?”

Akira said nothing. Just a cold glare.

Aki sighed, gaze drifting to the rain. “Like you ever listen to me…”