***PRESENT***

Rian’s back rested against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Kaiseng. His pheromones filled the room—thick, cloying, pressing into Kaiseng’s lungs until every breath burned. It wasn’t just scent. It was presence. A weight that settled low in his body and pulled, demanded.

Kaiseng’s jaw locked.

His skin felt too tight. Too warm. Heat coiled in his gut, sharp and insistent, spreading through his limbs in slow, merciless waves. He could feel his pulse everywhere—throbbing beneath his skin, in his throat, between his legs. His instincts clawed forward, loud and unruly, urging him to close the distance he was trying so hard to maintain.

“What are you waiting for?” Kaiseng snapped, voice rougher than he meant it to be.

“You.”

The word landed heavy.

“Me?” Kaiseng let out a short, humorless laugh. He rolled his neck, trying to bleed off the tension before it turned feral. His gaze flicked to the cuff at his wrist and he yanked at it once—hard. Metal bit into skin. It didn’t give.

“You’re marked,” he said through clenched teeth, forcing himself to stay still. “You can suppress if you want to. You’re choosing not to.” His eyes lifted back to Rian, sharp. Accusing. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Rian’s mouth curved—not into a smile, but something close.

He pushed off the door and stepped forward.

The space between them collapsed, and with it, Kaiseng’s restraint. The scent hit him full-force—sweet and heated and devastatingly familiar. His body reacted before his mind could stop it, a low ache settling in, muscles tightening, breath going shallow. He dragged a hand down the front of his scrubs, fingers catching at the fabric like it might ground him.

Rian watched it happen.

“You of all people,” Rian said quietly, “know that even a marked omega can’t suppress during heat.”

Kaiseng swallowed hard.

He did know.

He’d known back when he’d been the one counting minutes instead of hours. When timing mattered. When missing a dose—or changing one—meant everything spiraled. When he’d adjusted schedules, fights, medication, all to keep Rian functional. Safe. 

Rian tilted his head, eyes dark, intent. “Funny,” he continued, voice almost gentle, “how bad it feels now that you’re on the other side of it.”

Kaiseng’s chest rose and fell, slow and controlled. He refused to move closer. Refused to give in to the pull screaming through him reminded him how good it used to feel to stop fighting. To let Rian drown out everything else.

Because that was the problem.

It had always been too good.

And Rian knew exactly when to use that against him.

“So I’m waiting until you can’t handle it anymore, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Rian said, his gaze darkening with a mix of resentment and hunger. “Because there was nothing I could do.” His fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and over his head in one fluid motion, exposing the flushed skin of his torso. 

The air in the room thickened with the sharp, sweet tang of his pheromones, pulling at Kaiseng’s senses like a siren’s call. “It’s getting so hot in here, isn’t it? Who knew the first cycle off suppressants would hit like this...” Rian’s hand trailed down his own body, fingertips skimming over the swell of his chest, circling a hardened nipple before dipping lower along the taut plane of his abdomen. He followed the thin trail of dark hair vanishing into his waistband, pausing there as his eyes dropped, heavy-lidded and smoldering with need.

Rian’s fingers undid the button of his pants. The metallic rasp of the zipper sliced through the tense silence as he shoved the fabric down just enough to free his aching cock, already rigid and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his hand around the thick base, stroking upward in a slow, deliberate pump that made his breath hitch.

From his spot on the bed Kaiseng swallowed hard, his chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, the rut clawing at his insides as he fixated on the omega’s display. The urge to palm his own swelling erection throbbed in his veins, but he clenched his free fist, nails digging into his palm to hold back.

“So much control, Park,” Rian panted, his voice a low, teasing rumble as he tilted his head to meet Kaiseng’s stare. “Give it a minute.” He kicked off his pants, dragging his briefs down his thighs until they pooled at his feet. Naked now, he stepped closer to the foot of the bed, the scent of his arousal flooding the space like a drug. His fingers gripped the cool metal bar of the footboard, leaning in as his hand sped up on his cock, jerking it with rough, needy twists. His lips parted on a soft moan, slick sounds filling the room.

Gradually, his strokes faltered, slowing to a torturous drag before he released his throbbing length entirely. It bobbed free, heavy and glistening, as Rian reached back. His fingers circled his entrance, pushing inside with a wet squelch that released a fresh gush of slick, the musky, intoxicating aroma spiking in the air. It wasn’t just proximity—it was the omega’s body yielding, desperate and open but denying Kaiseng what he reluctantly craved most.

Kaiseng’s nostrils flared, inhaling the potent wave of pheromones that slammed into him. His own scent erupted in response, a raw, dominant flood that made the air hum with primal tension. The rut surged through him like wildfire, his cock straining painfully against his pants. With his unbound hand, he yanked at the waistband, shoving the fabric down to free his thick erection. He gripped it hard, stroking from root to tip in a single, firm pull that drew a guttural groan from his throat.

But Kaiseng bit back any plea, any order. He wouldn’t beg for this. His head thudded back against the wall behind the headboard, putting deliberate distance between them even as his hand worked faster, eyes squeezing shut to block out the sight of Rian’s debauched form.

Kaiseng’s breath shuddered as he forced himself to stop fighting the pull ripping through him. That was the lie he’d been telling himself—that he was resisting. He wasn’t. Not really.

If he were, he would have screamed. Would have demanded the door open. Would have clung to procedure, to restraint, to every carefully built wall he used to survive without Rian. Instead, he was calm. He was still. Still breathing him in. Still letting the heat burn through his veins and dull the sharp edges of his judgment.

This was the part he never admitted—not to himself, not even in the quiet moments alone. That some part of him wanted this. Wanted the way Rian unraveled him. Wanted the way everything else fell silent when the pull took over.

And beneath the heat, beneath the pull that had always undone him, there was something quieter—something worse. With Rian, there was no version of himself he had to maintain. No standard he could fail to meet. No future he was expected to live up to.

Rian didn’t want the best of him.

He wanted him.

Slowly, deliberately, Kaiseng opened his eyes.

Rian was watching him—not hungrily, not impatiently. Just waiting. Like he already knew how this ended. Like the choice had been made the moment Kaiseng stopped looking for the exit.

Kaiseng swallowed.

“I need you,” he said, the words scraping out of him like a confession. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just honest.

Rian exhaled a low, steady breath and something like relief flickered across his face. “There it is,” he murmured, his body straightening, voice calm and certain. “You always find your way back.” 

Rian stepped closer, one hand trailing idly along the cool metal of the footboard as he moved to the side of the bed.

Kai slid toward the edge, the cuff at his wrist chiming softly with the motion. “Rian,” he said, voice low but firm, “I need you to uncuff me.”

Rian’s mouth curved as he leaned in, lowering himself until they were eye to eye. “What,” he teased lightly, “can’t handle some light bondage?”

“I can.” Kaiseng’s gaze lifted, dark and unflinching. “It’ll just make this more irritating than it already is.”

Before Rian could reply, Kaiseng caught his wrist and tugged. Hard. Rian went with it, his weight tipping forward until his body hit the mattress beside him with a dull thud.

Everything about this was an inconvenience. The cuff biting into his wrist. The medical boot weighing down his ankle. The clothes bunched and stuck. The damned rut. And Rian—standing far too close to the center of it all, exactly where Kaiseng had sworn he wouldn’t let him be again.

“Hands on the headboard.”

That was all Kaiseng said as he settled behind him, his knee pressing into the mattress. His fingers followed the path of the tattoo along Rian’s spine—the thin red line tucked between solid muscle. Redline’s mark. A warning to anyone who saw it. And a reminder to Kaiseng of exactly what his absence had cost five years ago.

He bent forward, pressing a brief kiss to the back of Rian’s neck, then another between his shoulder blades. He inhaled there, slow and deliberate, drawing in the scent of him like a memory he’d never managed to outrun.

His teeth grazed lightly over the warm skin of Rian’s back as he descended, his hand sliding between the firm globes of his ass. Kai’s pointer finger dipped into the gathering slick, coating itself before circling the puckered entrance, teasing the rim without breaching. Then he withdrew, pressing his palm firmly between Rian’s shoulder blades to arch him forward, forcing that ass to present higher.

Kaiseng shifted back on his knees, the cuff digging into his wrist with a sharp bite he ignored amid the pounding need. He lowered his face until his breath ghosted over Rian’s exposed hole, barely an inch away. One hand cupped a cheek, fingers sinking into the taut flesh before prying it open wide. “Spread the other one,” he ordered, his tone steady despite the feral edge creeping in. Rian complied, reaching back to pull his cheek apart, baring himself completely.

Kaiseng dove in without hesitation, his tongue flattening against the tight ring of muscle. He licked broad and firm, dragging from the base of Rian’s taint up over the asshole in one long, wet stroke that made the omega shudder. The taste hit him immediately—sweet and tangy slick coating his tongue, addictive like honeyed nectar mixed with the raw essence of Rian’s heat. He speared forward, the tip of his tongue pushing past the rim to probe inside, thrusting shallowly as Rian clenched around the intrusion. Kaiseng groaned into the flesh, the vibration humming against sensitive skin. He alternated, lapping flat across the hole again, then dipping lower to trace up from the taint, gathering more of that dripping slick that leaked steadily now.

The flavor intensified with each pass, sweet and slick-saturated, driving Kai’s rut wilder. His cock throbbed untouched below, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets, but he savored the control, the way Rian’s body quivered under his mouth.

Finally, Kaiseng straightened, his lips glistening as he gripped his thick shaft. He lined the blunt head up with Rian’s hole, pressing forward slowly at first. The slick heat yielded around him, sucking him in inch by inch until he bottomed out, buried to the hilt in that vice-like grip. It felt incredible—the wet clench pulling at his length, every ridge and pulse massaging him from base to tip. Kaiseng’s hand slid up to grasp the back of Rian’s neck, holding him down as his hips snapped forward, slamming deep with a wet smack.

Moans tore from both their throats, raw and unrestrained, mingling with the creak of the metal bed frame protesting each thrust. From Kaiseng’s view, it was pure bliss: the slide of his cock through Rian’s slick channel, the obscene squelch of flesh meeting flesh, the way the omega’s body gripped him like it was made for this.

His fingers tangled higher into Rian’s soft black hair, gripping hard and yanking his head back slightly. Rian’s hand worked furiously between his legs, stroking his own cock in time with the pounding rhythm, slick sounds adding to the symphony.

Rian came first, crying out as his body seized. His asshole clamped down around Kaiseng’s cock like a fist, rhythmic pulses milking him relentlessly. Slick gushed out, coating Kaiseng’s balls and dripping warm down his thighs, the sensation slick and filthy against his skin.

The tightness pushed Kai to the edge, orgasm crashing through him like a storm. He pulled out with a groan, fisting his cock as ropes of cum painted Rian’s back, splattering over the red tattoo line in hot streaks. Breathing ragged, chest heaving, Kaiseng barely paused to recover. He grabbed Rian’s shoulder, turning him to face him. “Lay down, spread your legs… I’m not done yet.” His cock still throbbed, oversensitive and slick with their combined fluids, but the rut demanded more, insatiable.

Kaiseng shoved back inside in one forceful thrust, Rian’s back arching off the bed with a gasp, legs falling open wide. He moved slowly at first, savoring the renewed drag through that heat, leaning forward to lick at Rian’s nipple. The bud hardened under his tongue before he bit down on the firm chest muscle, teeth sinking just enough to mark without breaking skin. His nose trailed up the sweat-dampened column of Rian’s throat, inhaling the salty tang of exertion mixed with lingering pheromones. He licked a stripe over the pulse point, tasting the sharp salt of sweat on his tongue.

Kaiseng bit down harder as he buried himself deep, hips grinding to seat fully before retreating inch by inch, only to surge back in with feverish snaps. Rian’s fingers dug into Kaiseng’s back, while his legs wrapped tight around the alpha’s waist, locking him in place. The room filled with their grunts and the relentless creak of the bed, bodies locked in a haze of heat and need, chasing the next peak together.