Chapter Text
Jeongguk knocks.
His heart pounds in his chest, so hard it feels like it might break out of his ribcage. The pulse climbs up his throat and drums in his ears. It’s a little ridiculous, really. Not even his first audition to become an idol rattled him this way. He’s been torn apart ruthlessly by judges before, yet nothing close to this.
Right now, he feels sick. His stomach twists into a knot so tight it’s difficult to even stand still. His fingers curl in, nails biting into his palms hard enough to sting. His pheromones keep seeping out in waves he can’t quite reel back in, but he has to control it.
If he can't do the one thing they specifically asked of him, he's not going to make it.
The doors creak open.
Jeongguk swallows, and takes a shaky step in. It’s too late to go back now.
The moment his eyes land on his sponsor, he can’t breathe.
When the idea of sponsorship first came up, it didn’t sit right with any of them. They wanted to keep it real—make it big using their talent alone. They were young and naive, thinking hard work would open every door for them. But after two years of relentless struggle with nothing to show for it, they realized how difficult it was to survive in the industry without connections.
It didn’t matter how good they were if no one saw them. They had a small, loyal fanbase, but absolutely no reach. No visibility. No way in. They couldn’t land spots on music shows, couldn’t secure a single promotional appearance, couldn’t even get their music to new listeners.
They were invisible.
And desperation had a way of changing people.
They needed a push. A real one. The kind only money and power could buy.
There were a lot of discussions. At first, they revolved around finding someone who’d even be willing to sponsor them. Then came the question of what it would cost—and more importantly, who would be the one to pay it. It would’ve been easier if the price was just money, but it wasn’t. It was their morals, their pride, parts of themselves they might never get back.
As the leader of the group, Namjoon said it had to be him.
But when his manager finally found someone, they didn’t want Namjoon.
They wanted him.
The maknae.
Jeongguk agreed.
Because he’d do anything—anything before watching the group fall apart. He wouldn’t let their dreams shatter into nothing. He wouldn’t let it end like that. Not after everything they’d been through to get this far. He knows not everyone makes it, but they will. He’ll make sure of that.
And that’s what brings him here.
He’d assumed his sponsor would be a woman. He hadn’t been given a name, but still—he’d pictured someone older. Maybe in her forties. Divorced. He had mentally prepared himself for that, so he obviously can’t breathe when he sees a man waiting for him.
At least Jeongguk was right about one thing; it's an omega.
Kim Taehyung.
The name gleams in gold on the plaque sitting behind him.
He isn’t old or wrinkled, or anything even close to undesirable. He’s fucking beautiful. And it’s not the kind of beauty Jeongguk is used to either—it’s not polished, or the manufactured kind the industry churns out endlessly. This is different, natural and effortless in a way that feels almost intimidating.
Jeongguk can’t tear his gaze away.
It’s like he’s entranced.
Another step in, and Taehyung's pheromones hit Jeongguk like a truck. They wrap around him and completely take over his senses. They’re strong enough to slip past every wall he tries to hold up. His scent isn’t sweet like other omegas; it’s darker. Like black vanilla laced with something smoky and sharp—maybe burnt amber. It’s intoxicating in the worst possible way. Jeongguk almost trips over himself as he’s led further in and made to stand in the middle of the room.
The door creaks shut behind him.
Now it’s just the two of them
It’s silent.
Jeongguk shifts on his feet, wondering if should break the silence or not. With each second, his breathing grows louder, until he’s afraid the omega can hear him. He can probably feel how nervous Jeongguk is, even though he’s trying his hardest to keep his pheromones in check. He needs to make a good impression.
Taehyung slowly lifts his gaze. He stares at Jeongguk for a second too long, enough to make him squirm, before his lips part. A single word slips out. “Strip.”
All the blood in Jeongguk’s body turns to ice.
What?
The omega looks back down at the file, as if he hadn’t just said something completely insane. He flips a page nonchalantly, the soft rustle of paper the only sound breaking the silence. Then he waits.
Jeongguk doesn’t move, his body going rigid. Maybe he misheard. Maybe his nerves are getting to him, making him imagine the worst possible scenario.
When there’s no movement, Taehyung sighs. “Do you have a hearing problem?” he sneers, words bordering on contempt. His voice is low and deep. Jeongguk feels it more than hears it, like a faint vibration running through his bones. “It isn’t mentioned in your file. I said strip.”
Fuck.
Jeongguk grits his teeth, swallowing the last of his pride. His hands reach for the hem of his t-shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as he hesitates. He wants to run. Instead, his face twists into a wince as he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls it up over his head. His fingers tremble as they drop to his belt buckle next, fumbling with it longer than he should before it clicks open. His chest heaves as he unzips his pants and lets it pool around his ankles. He leaves his boxers on, folding his hands in front of his crotch to hide himself.
Taehyung closes his file and tosses it back on the desk. He crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at Jeongguk—letting his eyes slowly drag down his body like he’s an object in a museum. Like he’s deciding whether Jeongguk is even worth looking at. His sharp eyes trace every line, every dip and ridge of his body as Jeongguk struggles to stand still under the weight of it.
Jeongguk truly feels naked now.
His body heats up all at once. His face burns as warmth spreads across his ears, down his neck, and over his chest. He can feel it—the way his skin prickles under that gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Jeongguk opens his mouth. “I—”
He wants to answer but a wave of Taehyung’s pheromones suddenly hit him. They’re suffocating—seeping into his lungs, his bloodstream, his senses too fast. It catches him off guard, so the impact is brutal. It feels like something invisible coils around his windpipe, tightening with every shaky breath he tries to take. His lungs strain as panic spikes through him.
His knees buckle and hit the floor.
“Answer me.”
Jeongguk looks up. “I’m here because I need your help.”
The omega takes a step forward, then another, and another, only stopping when he’s standing right in front of Jeongguk, towering over him. “How badly?” he asks, peering down at him like he’s an insect he can’t wait to crush under his shoe.
Jeongguk has never felt more humiliated in his life. “Very,” he answers.
The corner of Taehyung's lips twitch into a knowing smirk. “Take your cock out and jerk off for me then.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “What?”
Taehyung sighs, his eyebrows furrowing like Jeongguk is already testing his patience. “I’m not gonna repeat myself again. If you can’t do it, then leave.”
“Why?” Jeongguk asks.
“Because you’ll be serving me in exchange for my sponsorship. I need to know what I’m investing in. I need to see if you’re actually capable of satisfying me. If you can even get it up,” the omega replies bluntly. “Even if you’re a virgin, I’m sure you’ve masturbated at least once in your life.”
Jeongguk flushes. “I’m not a virgin.”
“That’s good. Do it then.”
Jeongguk takes a deep breath before slipping his hand into his boxers and taking his cock out.
Taehyung doesn’t move an inch. Jeongguk doesn’t look up at him, but he can feel his gaze—heavy, impatient, and intense.
At first, Jeongguk thinks he won’t be able to get it up. The pressure of being watched coils tight in his stomach—he’s too aware of the eyes on him to perform. But maybe it's the omega's intoxicating scent stirring something in him, or the shame of doing this in front of a stranger that gets him going. A few strokes in, and he’s already hard.
There’s a scoff.
Jeongguk starts jerking himself off, dragging his hand down to the base and back up in quick pumps. It's dry at first, so rough that it hurts, but he doesn't stop. He rolls his palm over the tip to collect the pre-cum beading there, then slides it back down.
The wet squelching, the fapping sound fills the room.
Jeongguk’s breath quickens, his chest rising and falling fast. His teeth dig into his lower lip, holding back any sound that threatens to escape. His pheromones start to leak out, the familiar heat coiling tight in his belly as his muscles lock. He’s close.
He’s going to come.
“Stop.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his hand going still around his cock.
Taehyung stares. “Stop. Stand up now.”
Jeongguk cock hurts. He’s painfully hard and leaking—and yet he tucks himself back in and stands up. The fabric of his boxers pulls against his erection, and he has to bite back a wince. The omega’s eyes drop to his bulge, then slowly lift back up to his face. There's mirth in his eyes, like he's enjoying playing with him. Like Jeongguk is his new toy.
He motions for Jeongguk to sit, circling the desk before settling into his chair.
Jeongguk hesitates.
He looks at his clothes and considers putting them on to retain some of his dignity, but he doesn't want to piss the omega off, so he decides against it and rushes to take a seat. The room is cool, and as the heat in his body starts to fade, the cold catches up.
He shivers.
“My name is Kim Taehyung,” the omega starts, crossing his fingers on the desk as he leans in slightly. “And if you haven't noticed by now, I'm unfortunately, an omega.”
Jeongguk nods.
“Do you know why I chose you out of the group?”
“No.”
“Because you’re the cutest.”
Jeongguk blinks.
Taehyung scoffs. “That’s what I was told to say. But if you want the truth, it’s because you looked like a fucking pushover. And you are,” he continues without a pause, voice almost bored. “Considering what just happened. I need someone who will do as I say without asking any questions.” He tilts his head. “Like a dog.”
Jeongguk’s stomach drops.
The words completely strip off all his pride.
“I hate alphas,” Taehyung says, “but I need one. That’s where you come in. And in return, I’ll provide your group with whatever you need to advance your career. You have talent—no doubt about that. I can give you the push you need to rise.”
“What do you need me to do for you?”
Taehyung doesn’t hesitate. “I want you to satisfy my physical needs. I need you to turn off your mind, your heart, and just do as you’re told.”
“Why?” Jeongguk asks before he can stop himself. “You could have anyone you want. For free.”
Taehyung’s lips press into a thin, unimpressed line. His gaze sharpens slightly. “I don’t think you’re entitled to a reason.” He reaches for a document on his desk, sliding it across the surface towards Jeongguk. “Here’s the contract. You can read it over.”
Jeongguk skips over the first few paragraphs of technical writing he doesn't understand and jumps straight to the section outlining the terms of the contract.
The idol agrees to the following terms:
- He shall make himself available to the Sponsor at all times when summoned.
- He shall attend to the Sponsor’s physical needs as requested.
- He shall not engage in any romantic or sexual relationship with any third party for the duration of this Agreement.
- During any sexual activity with the Sponsor, he shall not (a) make any requests, (b) take on a dominant position, or (c) knot.
- He shall not release or use pheromones unless instructed by the Sponsor.
- He shall maintain strict confidentiality and shall not disclose the nature of this arrangement to any third party.
Failure to comply with any of the above terms shall constitute a breach of contract. The idol agrees that any violation will result in a penalty fee of $50,000 USD, payable to the Sponsor.
Jeongguk reads that the agreement lasts for one year from the day he signs it, with no option for him to back out once it begins. Early termination isn’t something he can initiate or negotiate, it sits entirely in Taehyung’s hands.
Taehyung offers him a pen. “Here. Make any changes you want.”
Jeongguk accepts it, hovering the nib above each line as he reads it over. “What if you call me when I’m on a schedule? I wouldn’t be able to come then.”
Taehyung scoffs. “Your schedules will be arranged around mine. So you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Oh, okay. Um… what if you ask me to do something I’m not comfortable with?”
“Like what?”
Jeongguk blinks, brows furrowing as he searches for something that sounds reasonable. Nothing comes fast enough, and the silence stretches just a little too long. “Like murder?” he blurts out, making a poor attempt at humor. He immediately regrets it.
Taehyung hums. “Of course, I’m not going to ask you to do that.” His eyes glint dangerously as he adds, “I wouldn’t trust you see it through anyway. You look weak. Like you don’t have the stomach for it.”
Jeongguk pales.
Taehyung lets out a soft chuckle, the sound so light and melodic it makes Jeongguk’s breath hitch in his throat. “I’m obviously joking, you stupid alpha. You can refuse anything you don’t want to do. Within reason, of course.”
A chill runs down Jeongguk’s spine. “Of course,” he says shakily.
“Do you have a non-negotiable in bed?”
“Anything extreme.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Okay.”
Jeongguk lets out a small breath through his nose, eyes scanning the document again despite already having read it twice. “Alright, it’s good,” he says, finally signing his name.
Taehyung hums. “You can go now. I’ll need you to take a blood test to confirm you’re clean. My doctor will be in touch.”
Jeongguk nods. “Okay.”
“I hope you don’t regret this, Jeongguk-ssi.”
The way his name rolls off Taehyung’s tongue does something to him. “I won’t.”
Taehyung stares. “Let’s see how long you last.”
Jeongguk holds his gaze. “You’ll be surprised.”
“I’ll see you on Saturday.”
➤
“How was it?”
“How’d it go?”
“Is she old?”
“Did she do something to you?”
“Are you okay?”
Jeongguk sighs, shutting the door behind him as he steps into the dorm. The questions hit him all at once, piling over each other before he’s even properly inside. He’s glad his members weren’t there earlier. If they knew even a fraction of what happened in that office, he’d want to die. Literally. He’d dig a hole and bury himself six feet deep.
He looks around their tiny dorm room; at the bunk beds squeezed too close together, at damp towels hanging off chair backs, and how there’s barely enough space to breathe properly. He realises they need this. No matter how much he hates it, they really need this.
“It went well,” Jeongguk lies.
“How was she?”
Jeongguk pauses, taking a seat on the edge of a bed. “Intense. But definitely not old.”
There’s a laugh. “Pretty?”
“Sure.”
Namjoon sits beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He places a hand on Jeongguk's shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. “You don’t have to do this, Jeongguk-ah.”
“I already signed the contract,” Jeongguk replies softly. “We need this, hyung. And he—she isn’t so bad. She was nice to me. She’s just lonely and needs someone to keep her company.” The lie slips out easier the second time, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He swallows it down, forcing his expression to stay even. “I can’t share any more details because of the contract.”
Namjoon stares at him.
Jeongguk averts his gaze.
He feels transparent. He knows Namjoon is unfairly perceptive and reads people like open books. He can probably already tell Jeongguk is lying about more than he’s admitting, but he doesn’t push. Not yet.
“Alright. Will you need to sleep with her?”
“Yeah.”
There’s silence for a beat.
“Wait really?” Hoseok says, eyes widening. “I thought it was just like escorting.”
Seokjin frowns. “Isn’t this just prostitution then?”
Yoongi runs a hand down his face. “I feel like shit. I wonder if it’s worth it,” he mumbles.
“It is,” Jeongguk insists, finally looking up at them. “I—I love you guys. I know for a fact that if any of you were in my position, you’d do the same. I just want us to make it. I’ve never seen anyone as passionate about making music as you all.”
Namjoon smiles. It’s a little sad. “Thank you.”
“How long will you have to be with her?” Seokjin asks.
“A year.”
They all wrap around Jeongguk, pulling him into a tight hug. “We’ll return the favour. Somehow, we will,” Hoseok says.
Jeongguk chuckles. “You can buy me Kancho choco tomorrow.”
They all laugh.
“When do you have to see her again?”
“Saturday.”
That night, Jeongguk can’t stop thinking about Taehyung.
Eventually, he gives up on sleep. He pulls the blanket over his head and turns his phone brightness all the way down until the screen barely glows in the dark. His clicks open Naver, and his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a few seconds before he finally types Taehyung name into the search bar.
The first few things that pop up are the omega’s age and his family background.
Taehyung is 31.
And he’s a third generation chaebol.
His father is the current chairman of Yohan Group, one of the country’s largest conglomerates. He manages a vast empire made up of luxury hotel chains, premium resorts, high-end real estate development, and international hospitality services that cater to the elite. His older brother manages the financial and industrial divisions in the company. Meanwhile, Taehyung’s role is not listed at all. Instead, his name is associated with the contemporary art scene in Seoul.
Jeongguk scrolls further and finds a couple of articles about his invitation-only art showcases held in luxury hotels owned by his family. There are photos too—press images, gala appearances, exhibition openings.
He looks the same in all of them.
Untouchable.
Jeongguk keeps digging through articles and old posts, his curiosity turning into some kind of fixation. He stumbles upon Taehyung’s family portrait, and squints in the dark. It looks flawless, but there’s no warmth in it. It’s cold, bleak. They don’t look like a family at all. They look like a bunch of strangers put together, instructed to stand close enough to be convincing, but never enough to really belong to one another.
Despite himself, Jeongguk zooms in on Taehyung’s face.
It’s perfect, but lifeless.
Even though he’s with his family, he still looks lonely.
Jeongguk stays awake until 3 AM, obsessively looking up any information he can find on Taehyung. The omega has never been in a public relationship, despite being pursued by countless alphas over the years. There’s so much gossip, each version slightly different, but all circling the same idea. That Taehyung doesn’t let people close. That he has a rotten personality and a dysfunctional relationship with his family.
As his eyes start to flutter close, he hopes he hasn’t made a terrible mistake. He hopes Taehyung helps their group rise, not drag it down and watch it burn harder than it ever has before.
Despite all the negative thoughts he falls asleep with, the next morning starts with good news.
Jeongguk startles awake to the sound of his manager practically bursting through the dorm door at what feels like the ass crack of dawn. Though it's actually 8 AM, they're just used to waking up late because they barely have anything on their schedule.
“What is it?” Yoongi groans.
“We just got an invite to attend Knowing Bros!”
They all jerk upright.
“What?”
“Are you serious?”
“Holy shit!”
Jeongguk feels his lips stretch into a wide grin. This is a big deal. They’ve been wanting to promote their album on that show for ages. It’s massive exposure.
“How?” Seokjin asks.
Their manager hesitates, glancing at Jeongguk. “They said the decision came from higher up.”
Kim Taehyung.
Slowly everything starts to change.
He must be pulling all the strings behind the scenes because opportunities start landing up on their laps one after another throughout the week. It’s as if doors that’d been sealed shut for years suddenly open all at once. They go from barely having schedules to not having a single free day.
It’s a little tiring because they’ve never done this much before, but it feels so fulfilling. Ever since debuting as an idol, this is the first time Jeongguk has ever felt this happy. And he hasn’t even done anything except signing a contract.
Taehyung doesn’t reach out all week.
Jeongguk would’ve thanked him if he had, but there’s nothing from him except radio silence. He completely forgets about Saturday until Friday night, when a text pops up on his phone from an unknown number.
Unknown
Paradise Hotel.
Room no. 5001 @ 9:00 PM.
Keycard at reception.
➤
Paradise hotel is fancy.
As Jeongguk walks through the massive revolving doors, he feels painfully out of place. He’s afraid someone might stop him and ask if he’s lost. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling high above looks like it's dripping gold, and the white marble beneath his boots gleams. Even the air smells expensive.
He should’ve dressed better, he thinks as he glances down at his clothes. Unfortunately, this is the nicest outfit he owns. He picked out the most expensive shirt in his closet, and a jacket he saved up for months to buy. And somehow, he still looks dirt poor compared to everyone around him.
This is a cherry on top of his already terrible day.
Jeongguk couldn’t focus on work at all. He had a photoshoot and an interview for Esquire magazine, and he can’t even remember what he said anymore. The stylist had to keep fixing his hair because he kept dragging his fingers through it, and at one point the photographer actually asked him if he wanted to take five. It's embarrassing how distracted he’d been all morning, constantly checking his phone for new messages.
Perhaps a raincheck.
Or a cancellation.
Obviously, nothing like that ever came.
Now, with the keycard in hand, Jeongguk heads straight for the elevator. He keeps his head down as he walks through the lobby, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passes by. At times like these, he’s glad he’s not famous. One blurry snap of him sneaking into a hotel like this would be enough to start a scandal.
He can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen. He doesn’t know what Taehyung expects from him, though considering they’re meeting in a hotel room this late at night, it’s not exactly hard to guess. He feels silly for thinking they’d get to know each other a bit before jumping right into it. That they’d talk, maybe have a drink—something to ease into whatever this arrangement is supposed to become. At least then he might’ve felt a little more comfortable.
The elevator dings upon arriving at the fiftieth floor.
Jeongguk steps out into a hallway that looks straight out of a movie. The carpet beneath his boots is thick enough to swallow the sound of his footsteps. The dark walls have gold detailing, and the paintings hanging from them look worthy of being in a museum collection. The lighting is soft, and it’s so quiet he can hear his own breathing.
He stops in front of the room.
Before he can overthink it any further, he quickly taps the keycard against the sensor. The door clicks open, and Jeongguk steps inside before quietly shutting the door behind him.
Taehyung is already there.
Jeongguk can hear his voice, distant and faint, coming from somewhere deeper into the suite. It’s still enough to make his pulse jump. The suite is massive, more like a luxury apartment than a hotel room. The foyer alone is bigger than his entire dorm. As he walks further inside, Taehyung’s words become clearer.
“—nah, I’m not. Father will get mad at me, but who gives a fucking shit.”
Jeongguk follows the sound until he reaches the living room, awkwardly clearing his throat to announce his presence.
Taehyung is sprawled out on the sofa in a dark silk robe, one leg lazily crossed over the other. His eyes flick to Jeongguk, fleeting, almost dismissive as he continues talking on the phone. His hair is slightly messy, soft strands falling into his eyes. He looks less put together than before, but there’s still something deeply intimidating about him. A cigarette rests delicately between his fingers, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling as he brings it to his lips for another drag.
He beckons Jeongguk forward with a finger.
Jeongguk steps closer.
Taehyung points down at the carpet in front of him. “Sit.”
Jeongguk blinks.
Down there?
“No, I’m not talking to you,” Taehyung says dryly into the phone. “I’m talking to my dog—my little puppy.”
Jeongguk’s heart gives a hard thud against his ribs.
“Yeah, he’s new. I just got him recently.” Taehyung’s gaze drifts over him slowly, making heat crawl up Jeongguk’s neck. “He needs some training.” He brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales. The knot on his robe hangs loose, and Jeongguk tries not to stare at the sharp line of his collarbones and the smooth skin of his chest peeking through the fabric.
On the other end of the call, someone says something too muffled for Jeongguk to understand. Taehyung hums quietly, smoke spilling from his lips as he replies, “Yeah, he’s cute. But it’s not about that, you know? I need him to be obedient. He needs to listen to me. When I say sit, he needs to fucking sit.”
Jeongguk sits down.
Taehyung continues talking, but Jeongguk can barely hear him anymore. His own heartbeat is too loud in his ears, thudding so violently it almost hurts. Taehyung keeps releasing his pheromones in waves strong enough to make Jeongguk’s head spin. They spread through the room like he wants to claim every inch of air around him.
Jeongguk’s hands curl tightly against his knees.
Taehyung slowly lifts his leg, and Jeongguk is sitting close enough for his bare foot to brush against him. The touch is light, careless, but it’s definitely intentional.
Their eyes meet.
Taehyung slides his foot up higher, grazing it along Jeongguk’s chest before dragging it up the base of his throat. Taehyung keeps talking on the phone the entire time like he isn’t slowly driving Jeongguk insane. By the time Taehyung’s toes hover in front of his face, Jeongguk can barely think straight. The corner of the omega’s lips lift into a smirk as he softly taps his toes against Jeongguk’s lips. “Kiss it.”
Jeongguk stills.
"Yeah, what were you saying?" Taehyung inquires over the phone. “The party, right. I’m not going.”
Jeongguk had mentally prepared himself for sex—but not this. Not whatever twisted game Taehyung is playing with him. He’s convinced Taehyung doesn’t even see him as a human, just a toy he wants to play with. Something to push and prod and test just to see how much pressure it can take before finally breaking. Taehyung looks at him like he wants to see him cry, and wants to humiliate him to the point of no return. Until Jeongguk loses every bit of his self-respect. Really like a dog.
Still—
Jeongguk does it.
He gingerly wraps his hand around Taehyung’s ankle and kisses his feet.
“Let’s talk when we meet,” Taehyung says before ending the call.
He falls silent after that, simply leaning back against the sofa to watch him. Jeongguk takes it as a cue to go further, brushing his lips against the inside of Taehyung’s ankle before slowly moving higher. He slowly kisses his way up the omega’s leg, mouth lingering against warm skin as he wonders if there’s a line he shouldn’t cross. He’d rather Taehyung give him orders than risk doing something wrong.
Taehyung’s scent spikes when Jeongguk reaches his inner thighs, the black vanilla turning almost sweet. The omega probably likes what Jeongguk’s doing. Or at least doesn’t hate it.
Jeongguk shuffles closer.
Taehyung spreads his legs for him. “Have you ever given someone a blowjob before?”
Jeongguk shakes his head. “No.”
Taehyung reaches out and buries his fingers in Jeongguk's hair, yanking him closer between his legs. “I want you to give me one right now, and if you turn out to be awful at it… your group can kiss their Mnet Asian Music Awards stage goodbye.”
Jeongguk’s eyes go wide. “But we don’t—”
“I pulled some strings and got your group a spot.”
“I’ll do my best!” Jeongguk cries.
Taehyung scoffs. “If your best is making me come, then sure,” he says before letting go of him and leaning back against the sofa.
Jeongguk takes a deep breath before reaching out to wrap his hand around Taehyung's cock. He gives it a few slow, experimental strokes and feels him swell in no time. It’s new, unfamiliar—feels very different from touching himself. The weight of him in his palm, the way he throbs under his touch. Taehyung's breath hitches with each pull; it's barely noticeable, but it's a reaction. It’s enough for Jeongguk to keep going.
He rolls his palm over the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum there before closing his fist around the shaft and stroking him down to the base and back up. He’s slow at first, unsure of what makes Taehyung feel good. He keeps his eyes on the omega's face, reading every flicker of expression as a guide to do better.
Jeongguk notices how Taehyung's hips twitch when he drags his thumb over the slit, how his stomach tenses when he twists his wrist on the way up, and how his lips part slightly around a breathy moan when he squeezes tighter.
Taehyung takes a drag of his cigarette as he peers down at him. “Your mouth now.”
Jeongguk swallows.
He leans in and wraps his lips around the head, flicking his tongue over the slit as the bitter taste of pre-cum fills his mouth. He fights the urge to grimace as he opens his mouth up wider and sinks lower on Taehyung’s cock. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s probably not doing it right either, but he’s desperate to please. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, taking Taehyung as deep as he can as bobs his head up and down enthusiastically. He goes as fast and as hard as he can.
Taehyung jerks, pushing at Jeongguk’s head. “Are you fucking crazy?”
Jeongguk pulls off with a wet pop. "What's wrong?"
The omega’s face twists in annoyance. He looks at Jeongguk like he’s already work to him, a hassle he brought upon himself and is now deeply regretting. He lets out a tired sigh. “Forget it. I’ll fuck your face for now. Next time, practice and come.”
“On who?” Jeongguk blinks.
“On a fucking banana, I don’t know. Watch porn.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Alphas are fucking useless,” Taehyung mutters under his breath, shaking his head. He grabs Jeongguk by the hair and pulls him closer until their faces are inches apart. “Loosen your jaw and make sure your teeth don’t fucking touch me. It will hurt a little, but you can take it, right?” he sneers.
Jeongguk nods
“Good boy.”
Taehyung slides his cock into his mouth.
He doesn’t go easy on Jeongguk because it’s his first time. He’s absolutely brutal, slamming his hips forward and ramming his cock into Jeongguk’s mouth at a pace that leaves the alpha gasping for air. His eyes sting with tears, spilling down his cheeks before he can blink them away. Taehyung's pheromones wrap around him like a vice, flooding his senses until there's nothing left but the omega.
Jeongguk feels him hit the back of his throat over and over, each thrust punching deeper than the last. He uses Jeongguk's mouth at his disposal, for his pleasure. The corners of Jeongguk’s lips chafe raw as Taehyung’s thrusts get faster and rougher. His jaw aches, locked open. Saliva drips down his chin, and it’s all so messy.
And it hurts.
He can't breathe. He can't think. He can't do anything but take it.
“I’m close,” Taehyung grunts, his grip tightening into Jeongguk’s hair as he holds him in place, forcing him still as his hips work up. He doesn’t let Jeongguk pull off, doesn’t give him much of a warning before coming straight down his throat.
Once the omega finally lets go of him, Jeongguk falls back. He breathes hard through his nose, chest heaving up and down as he weakly glares at Taehyung. His lips press into a thin line, throat tightening as he holds everything in, refusing to swallow. Taehyung stares at him for a second before leaning forward and sliding his hand beneath Jeongguk’s mouth. “Here,” he says flatly. “Spit it out.”
Jeongguk hesitates, eyes flicking up to his face. He's not sure if Taehyung is serious or if this is just another trap. When Jeongguk doesn’t move, Taehyung repeats, “I said spit it out.”
In the end, Jeongguk obeys.
He spits on Taehyung’s open palm.
For a moment, it’s silent. Taehyung’s eyes drop to his palm, then lift slowly back to Jeongguk’s face. Something mean flickers in his gaze before his expression hardens. And then—he raises his hand up and smacks his palm lightly against Jeongguk’s cheek. It isn’t a full slap, but the contact is enough to make Jeongguk’s head whip to the side.
Before Jeongguk can even process what’s happening, Taehyung is already dragging his palm down his cheek, wiping the mess away on his face. “I don’t like getting my hands dirty,” he says simply, “and that looks good at you.”
Jeongguk feels a surge of anger.
Taehyung must notice the fire in his eyes and his scent starting to leak out because his eyes narrow into slits. “If I smell your filthy pheromones without wanting to, I’ll make you pay for it.”
Jeongguk clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, forcing himself to reel it all in. To swallow down the anger, and bury the alpha instinct screaming at him to fight back. “No wonder you need to buy people’s company,” he mutters, his voice so venomous it even surprises him.
Taehyung doesn’t look offended. “Good for me your career is a sinking ship then, Jeongguk-ssi.”
Jeongguk scowls.
Taehyung smirks, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Give me your hand. I need to put this out.”
“What—no!”
Taehyung tilts his head, his lips curling into a frown. “If you don’t give me your hand, I'm gonna ruin that pretty little face of yours with a scar instead. Do you want that?”
Jeongguk’s face twists. He slowly brings his hand up, palm open. His heart pounds as Taehyung starts lowering his cigarette towards it. The tip burns red, a thin trail of smoke curling up between them. It's going to hurt, he thinks. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath, bracing himself for the pain. But the pain never comes.
Jeongguk opens his eyes again and sees the cigarette hovering an inch above his skin. He can feel the heat, but that’s it. Taehyung’s eyes are on him, bright with amusement. “I knew you were a pushover, but holy shit. Why would you let me hurt you?”
“You threatened me.”
“You could still stop me.”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s easy for a person in power to say.”
Taehyung smirks, pressing the cigarette out in the ashtray beside him. “Touché. Just don’t let anyone else walk all over you. No one except me.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“You don’t need to,” Taehyung replies. “Now go brush your teeth and wash your face. The bathroom’s down the hallway. I’ll see you in the bedroom.”
Jeongguk pales.
Taehyung scoffs. “Relax. I just want to lie down.”
“Oh.”
“You’re so fucking transparent.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Go now.”
In the bathroom, Jeongguk quickly realizes this suite feels more permanent than a simple overnight stay. The toiletries lined neatly beside the sink are all from different luxury brands he’s only ever seen celebrities post online. Jeongguk has never stayed in a hotel room like this before, but even he can tell these aren’t complimentary.
He spends an embarrassingly long time picking up each bottle and turning it over to read the labels, trying to figure out which one is actually a cleanser. Once he’s done washing his face and brushing his teeth, he uses the softest towel he can find to gently pat his skin dry.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Jeongguk can’t help but wonder if he’s even the only alpha Taehyung has brought to this room. Or if he’s just one of many who’ve knelt on the carpet, kissed his feet, and let themselves be used.
He’s an alpha, but he really has zero aura compared to Taehyung.
Jeongguk doesn’t know if it’s the omega’s money or his striking features that make it impossible not to feel smaller around him. Taehyung carries himself with the kind of authority most alphas spend their whole lives trying to possess. Jeongguk hasn’t known him for long, but he can already tell Taehyung hates being an omega. Somehow, he seems to hate alphas even more. He makes others pay for both what he longs to be and what he can’t accept in himself.
He takes a little tour of the suite to stall. There’s a fully stocked minibar built into the wall, a small dining space with a marble table that probably never gets used. He’s already seen the massive living room, and farther inside there’s an office, a walk-in closet, and more bedrooms and bathrooms than he can keep track of. He eventually finds the master bedroom the omega is in and announces his presence with a small cough as he steps inside.
Taehyung is already in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. His dark hair spills messily across the pillow, making him look softer than he has all night. Beside him, the tall glass windows stretch from floor to ceiling, overlooking all of Seoul. The citylights glitter like stars scattered across the ground. Jeongguk makes his way over to look outside, palms pressing against the glass.
He could stare at this view for hours.
“You like it?”
Jeongguk turns around sharply, his heart jumping to his throat. “What?”
Taehyung looks at him. “The view?”
“Yeah. It’s beautiful. Don’t you think so?”
“No,” Taehyung replies after a beat. “But you can take the keycard home and come and look at the view whenever you want.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yeah. This is where we’ll be meeting from now on. You can come even when I’m not here.”
“Thank you.”
“Alone.”
“Yeah! Of course.”
Taehyung pats the empty space on the bed beside him. “Come, sit,” he says.
Jeongguk hesitates before circling the bed and taking a seat on the very edge.
“I don’t bite,” Taehyung says dryly, eyeing him. “You can get comfortable.”
Jeongguk shifts awkwardly before finally pulling his legs up onto the bed and tucking them beneath the covers. He leans back against the headboard stiffly, hyperaware of the proximity between them. The omega’s pheromones slowly begin to seep into the air between them, drifting towards Jeongguk.
Taehyung goes quiet after that.
The silence lingers long enough for Jeongguk to start wondering why exactly he’s still here. If Taehyung truly just wants his company or if there’s something else Jeongguk still hasn’t figured out. He wonders if Taehyung gets lonely up here in this massive suite and fills the silence with people the same way others leave the television running for background noise. Or maybe Jeongguk is only here because Taehyung enjoys having someone obedient enough to stay when told.
Then—
“Release your pheromones,” Taehyung says quietly, voice strained in a way the alpha doesn’t understand. “Go slow. Don’t hit me with them all at once.”
“Okay,” Jeongguk replies.
He lets his pheromones seep out little by little. The scent spreads slowly through the room, eventually reaching the omega. Taehyung’s entire body goes rigid, and he looks like he’s not breathing at all. He stays still for a long second before deliberately forcing himself to relax, taking one slow breath through his nose.
And immediately, he jerks upright. His hand flies up to cover his nose and mouth like he’s gotten a whiff of something absolutely revolting. His face twists in disgust before he retches.
Jeongguk’s eyes widen in alarm. He quickly starts reeling his pheromones in. “I-I’m sorry!”
Taehyung shakes his head. “Don’t stop. Keep letting them out.”
“But—”
The omega shoots him a withering glare. “Just do as I fucking say.”
Jeongguk obeys. This time, he’s more careful with it, letting his pheromones drift out in small waves.
Even then, Taehyung struggles. His breathing grows ragged, his fingers digging into the sheets under him until his knuckles go white. A shudder rolls through him. He looks mad—like enduring this is humiliating him somehow.
“Do I—I smell that bad?”
A laugh bubbles out of Taehyung’s mouth, breathy and startled enough to sound like a wheeze. Some of the tension finally eases from the omega’s body, his shoulders relaxing a little. It seems like Jeongguk’s question distracted him enough to pull him out of whatever spiral he’d been sinking into for a moment. “No, you don’t. In fact, you smell better than most alphas I’ve been around. It’s just been a while since I’ve been exposed to an alpha’s pheromones.”
“Oh.”
Taehyung takes a deep breath and lies back down on the bed, his body easily sinking into the mattress. He somehow looks small like this, and Jeongguk suddenly feels his alpha instinct flare to protect. To do something to make Taehyung feel better.
“Sing for me,” Taehyung murmurs. “That song of yours. Still with you.”
Jeongguk feels his heart skip.
That song is the one he wrote and composed entirely on his own. It’s his personal favourite, the one he feels more emotionally attached to than anything else he’s made. He had uploaded it a year into his debut, almost without thinking too much about it. It isn’t even on Spotify, but on their dead Soundcloud account. It barely has a few thousand listens. Most of their fans don’t even know it exists.
And yet Taehyung does.
Jeongguk doesn’t know how.
“I got a lot of profiles to pick from,” Taehyung begins softly, “all alphas, obviously. Actors, idols, different fields. Out of all of them, you caught my eye.”
Jeongguk stares.
“You have that face, you know,” Taehyung continues, turning slightly to look at him now. His breathing is still a little uneven, but Jeongguk is glad he’s not retching like before. “Like you’d let anyone walk all over you. It made me want to slap you, push you, and break you. I wanted to see you cry. I love seeing alphas cry.”
Jeongguk’s throat tightens.
“But you were the only one out of all of them who actually made me feel something,” Taehyung continues. “So I kept digging, and that’s when I came across this song. I loved it—so much that I’ve been listening to it every day since I found it. I liked your voice, your work, so I ended up choosing you. If anyone deserves to make it big, Jeongguk-ssi, I think it should be you.”
Jeongguk takes a full minute just trying to figure out what to say. A million thoughts race through his head all at once. In the end, he does what he knows best.
He sings.