He lay back in the tub, his eyes closed. The water covered him completely, rising to his chest, then his lips, until it lapped at the edges of his nostrils. For a moment, the world outside reduced to a muffled hum. There was only the sound of his own heartbeat, It felt like drowning in the depths of an ocean. 

But then, as always…

.

.

.

He was nine again, standing in the living room of his childhood home. His father stood in front of him, his face red with anger, his voice sharp and unrelenting. “Stop crying, Jisung! Do you think tears will bring her back? Tears won’t solve anything!”

Mr.Lee -Jisung’s father- was a man consumed by his work, a detective who valued strength and control above all else. Little Jisung couldn’t forget how his father had kicked his mother out of the house almost a year ago. The memory of that day has never left his mind, he had cried his eyes out that night. His father couldn’t stand it. “Stop crying!” his father had yelled, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “I don't want to see those stupid tears! Control yourself!” 

His father had never struck him, Or at least he hasn't done so yet.

He was just a child, he had been lonely. He had felt so weak. So small… overwhelmed by emotions he couldn’t name, let alone control. So he blocked his cries by closing his mouth with his small palms, his small body shaking with silent sobs. Trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. It never worked. The tears always came, hot and shameful, and his father’s disapproval only grew.

He missed her. He missed the way she used to sing to him, the way she would hug him when he was scared. But his father saw his tears as a betrayal, a sign of weakness that he couldn’t tolerate, and he had little patience for a son who didn’t fit into his rigid expectations. “So stop crying and grow up! Do you think the world will care about your tears? Do you think it will stop for you? IT WON'T!”

.

.

.

Jisung jerked upright in the bathtub, gasping for air as the memory receded. Water sloshed over the sides, pooling on the floor. His chest -rising and falling rapidly- heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He wiped the water from his face.

“Shit! This is not helping,” he muttered, brushing his wet hair back with a frustrated sigh. The lavender scent, usually so calming, felt suffocating now. He hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them, and stared at the rippling water. His reflection stared back at him, distorted and fragmented.

Another memory surfaced, unbidden. This one was more recent, more visceral. That man. The first man who had been intimate with him. Jisung’s breath hitched as the image flashed in his mind, strong hands on his body, a stranger’s touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He remembered the way the man had pressed his chin against Jisung’s shoulder, his breath hot against his ear as he whispered something Jisung couldn’t —or wouldn’t— remember. Even now, he could still feel it, the heat of the man’s breath on his neck, the way it had sent a chill down his spine. It was a strange feeling, one that made his stomach twist and his skin prickle. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to remember, but the memory was stubborn, clinging to him like a shadow.

“Stop it,” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. His cheeks flushed pink, and he shook his head hard, as if he could physically dislodge the thought “It was just one night stand. It didn’t mean anything.” The heat in his neck rising, he felt a mix of embarrassment and something else, when he looked down between his legs, “fuck” something he didn’t want to name… ignore it. 

But it had meant something, hadn’t it? Even if it wasn’t supposed to. The man had left him undone, their encounter unfinished for reasons Jisung still didn’t understand. It wasn’t fair. He had been left hanging, his body humming with unmet desire, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. Jisung's back leaned against the tub. Blowing bubbles with the tub water that reached his lips, a childish attempt to distract himself. 

He blamed everything on his tiredness. 

(⁠◍⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠◍⁠)

He felt a presence before he saw it. A tall, broad-shouldered alpha approached, his dark hair swept back, his white shirt rolled up to his elbows. His eyes locked onto Minsoo’s, and there was no mistaking the hunger in them. Minsoo smirked. This one looks interesting.

“Hey,” the alpha said, his voice deep and smooth. “You’ve been staring at me all night. Should I be flattered or worried?” Minsoo had been winking and smiling all night, a playful predator sizing up his prey. He had been searching for the right alpha, someone who could match his intensity. He just wanted him to make the first move, and lucky for him, this one responded after a few subtle encouragement.

Minsoo leaned against the bar, his long blonde hair catching the light as he sipped his drink. He didn’t need to try hard to draw attention, it came naturally. His fitted black shirt hugged his frame perfectly, and his leather pants left little to the imagination. Everywhere he went, eyes followed him. Alphas, betas, even other omegas, they all watched him, drawn to his confidence and the way he carried himself like he owned the room.

Tonight, he was here to lose himself, to forget about being ‘Detective Shin Minsoo.’ Although he doesn't take the whole burden of being a detective seriously… Whatever.

Minsoo raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Flattered, obviously. Worried? Only if you can’t handle me.”

The alpha chuckled, leaning closer. “I’m Taeyong,” he introduced.

“I’m Baekjin,” Minsoo replied, a small lie slipping past his lips. He rarely used his real name in these situations, preferring to remain anonymous.

The alpha chuckled, leaning closer. “Baekjin, trust me, I can handle you.” his voice low and husky.

Minsoo took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Taeyong’s. “Prove it.”

Taeyong’s grin turned wicked, a promise of pleasure in his eyes. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Minsoo’s as he took the glass from his hand. “Dance with me.”

Minsoo tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know… I’m not easy to impress.”

Taeyong leaned in, his breath warm against Minsoo’s ear. “Then let me impress you.”

...to be continued

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