San never used an alarm.
Every morning at four forty-five, he woke up on his own. This morning was no different. San cracked his eyes open, squinting against the pitch-black darkness of his room. Reaching over to his nightstand, he blindly felt for his cell phone to confirm that yep, it was indeed four forty-five in the morning. This morning ritual wasn't fun, by any means. But he was up. He was alive.
Another day, another dollar.
San went through the robotic process of getting ready for his workday. He brushed his teeth, staring blankly at himself in the mirror. He patted his hair down, giving up on the one hair in the back that wouldn't stay down. He rolled on his deodorant, and then he slathered on scent blocker.
By the time San trudged down the stairs that connected his studio to his business, the usual smell of bacon, sausage, eggs, and coffee teased San's sensitive nose. He pushed through the door to the kitchen, growling stomach needing filled and sleepy eyes needing caffeinated.
"Good morning, boss!" Seonghwa, San's cook, chirped from the flattop stove.
San only grunted in response. He tried to make it a cheery grunt, but he wasn't sure he succeeded. Seonghwa didn't falter either way, just kept his focus on the food he was making for San and the rest of the staff, who would be trickling in before long. San continued shuffling through the small kitchen, skirting around the gigantic island in the middle of the room to push through the swinging door and into his diner.
After turning on the lights, their fluorescent glow making his eyes squint in retaliation, San unlocked the front door and clicked on the OPEN sign. The Dynamite Diner was San's pride and joy. Open from five in the morning until three in the afternoon; serving a wide array of breakfast foods, brunch delicacies, and lunch dishes; a warm, inviting space with free wifi and friendly staff.
The small business wasn't booming by any means, but it was perfectly enough. The first few years had been tough as hell, but San pushed through. With the help of excellent staff and loyal customers, Dynamite was all that San needed to stay comfortable.
He was proud.
Knowing customers likely wouldn't show until at least five-thirty, San took his time pouring a cup of coffee for himself. He drank it black, trying not to grimace after the first sip. It wasn't that it was bad coffee, it just wasn't good coffee.
San was kind of picky, for good reason.
Although his blockers were keeping it at bay now, San's alpha smelled of deep, dark roast coffee. It was rich and full, freshly ground and robust. He had yet to find a blend that came even close to the way he imagined coffee should taste. It was kind of frustrating, but his customers never complained.
So, San swallowed another mouthful, letting the caffeine do its thing and lazily walked back into the kitchen.
Seonghwa was still at the stove, but it looked like everything was done cooking. So, San grabbed a plate and snatched a few pieces of bacon straight off the stove. After quickly dropping them onto his plate and sucking his stinging fingertips, he reached for the nearest bottle of syrup and drenched the strips of meat with it.
San caught the grimace Seonghwa tried to hide.
Then he chuckled and shoved his drenched, sticky bacon into his mouth with a grin.
When San had first hired Seonghwa, the older man had been appalled by San's breakfast preferences. He'd offered to make San pancakes, waffles, French toast – literally anything that would make more sense than meat and syrup. But San always politely refused, and Seonghwa always looked on with disdain.
Although Seonghwa had a year on San, he was an ever-respectful employee. The older alpha always remembered to wear his scent blocker, even if his cool, clean spearmint permeated the cosmetic no matter how much he put on. If San had a request, Seonghwa was quick to accomplish it. He was there every single morning at four-thirty, unlocking the back and prepping the kitchen with precision and care.
San would probably be dead without him.
The rest of the staff arrived at six – beta Hongjoong and omega Mingi. They waited tables for San, and they were just as much a godsend as Seonghwa. Hongjoong always forgot his blocker, no matter how often San reminded him. It wasn't a big deal, though, his mild eucalyptus scent the opposite of overbearing. But Mingi always concealed his bubbly, baked apple scent.
Hongjoong and Mingi weren't necessarily the most efficient servers San had ever hired. Hongjoong frantically ran around, hip-checking tables and knocking over salt and pepper shakers. But his charm brought customers back. Then there was Mingi, who spent half the time trailing behind Hongjoong, silently cleaning up the beta's messes as the omega flitted from table to table.
Again – not necessarily efficient.
But they were reliable and hard-working.
And that's what mattered most to San.
When needed, San filled the spaces that Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Mingi were unable to fill. He would top coffees, help at the stove, run food, chat with impatient customers. They all worked so well together, keeping Dynamite alive and well with ease.
The breakfast rush tore through, keeping the boys bustling. Then around noon, Jongho came in as he always did. He was a regular and one of San's closest friends – which some might think is sad, considering the pair never spent time together outside of the diner. But San didn't really give a shit what others thought.
Jongho was a beta like Hongjoong, and because he wasn't staff, he never wore blockers. San was glad; Jongho's tropical, sunny coconut scent always brightened San's spirits. The friends chatted casually at the bar. It was Saturday, so Jongho wasn't in a hurry to get back to work after his break.
This was San's life. It was comfortable. It was steady. It was...predictable. And that was perfectly fine with San; this was the life he had crafted for himself.
But then the diner's door swung open, and the unpredictable walked through. San's hand froze mid-air while handing Jongho his change.
A tall, lanky man with dark hair floated in. The outfit he wore was casual – a plain black tee, brown trousers, and a black mask tucked under his chin. His hair was floppy, his eyes swollen with sleep, his lips pouty and tired.
He was the most beautiful man San had ever seen.
More beautiful than any face on any magazine cover, more beautiful than any of the thousands that had passed through Dynamite's doors. Even from across the building, San could see how airbrushed the man's bare skin was. His lashes were long and dark, his facial features perfectly symmetrical and delicate.
But none of that was what had San's breath catching, his heartbeat racing, his adrenaline pumping through his veins, the hair on his arms and on the back of his neck raising. That moment felt like a tack in San's timeline, like the rest of his life would revolve around that very second.
Because the scent emanating from the man – from the man's omega – was the best San had ever smelled.
The man smelled of purest, richest maple syrup, so sticky sweet San could taste it on his tongue. So strong it jumbled San's mind, blurring his judgment and impairing his motor skills. San's wolf wanted to sprint across the room, hop over tables and shove aside chairs until he could stick his nose into the man's neck and never leave. But San's feet remained cemented to the linoleum, his hand still hovering mid-air, his eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open.
San didn't want the air he breathed to smell of anything but him ever again.
"You good, man? Hello? San, you in there?"
Jongho's voice snapped San out of whatever trance he had been in. San whipped his head over to look back at Jongho, who was staring at him like he was afraid San might do something really stupid. San shook his head a bit, trying to clear it.
It didn't work.
"Mm? Yeah," San mumbled, returning his attention to the man who was now settling into a stool at the other side of the bar.
He looked so sleepy and squishy. San checked the clock on the wall. Twelve fifty-five in the afternoon. The man must've had a late night.
"Are – are you gonna help him?" Jongho asked, glancing over at the newcomer and then back at his dazed alpha friend.
"Um..."
The maple man was using his long fingers to reach for a ketchup on the bar top. Once he grabbed it, he brought it close and looked at it like he had never seen anything like it before. Then, he set it down in front of himself and let out a gigantic yawn, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
San was gone.
Completely endeared. Head over heels.
"San!"
Seonghwa slammed his spatula onto the bell in the kitchen window, making San nearly jump out of his skin. There were several plates of food ready to be taken out. But San just continued staring blankly, his mouth still hanging open. Thankfully, Mingi hurried over and piled everything onto a tray.
"Boss? Everything okay?" Mingi asked worriedly, a little wrinkle forming between his brows as he frowned at the still-mute San.
"Ah – uh," San slurred, again looking over at the new customer.
Who was now staring at San.
He still looked very tired but now maybe a little impatient, too.
"Do you want me to take him?" Mingi asked under his breath, jerking his head towards the omega seated at the bar.
When he did, another wave of syrupy richness hit San, making his mouth water. He looked around the room, seeing if anyone else was affected by the man's scent.
Nope. Just San, apparently.
"No, n-no I can get him. Sorry," San finally said, his lips barely moving.
Finally, San set Jongho's change down in front of his friend. But instead of leaving, Jongho stayed seated, watching San closely as he grabbed a pitcher of coffee from a warmer and approached his new customer.
"Good afternoon," San murmured, trying to keep his voice even and failing miserably.
The omega's sleepy eyes widened.
"Afternoon?!" he gasped. "I am way late, Yeosang's definitely gone. Dang it."
"Um..." San was again at a loss for words.
Because holy shit his voice.
"This is the Dynamite Diner, right?" the man asked, his voice thick with morning even though it had long since passed.
"Y-e-s?" San answered unsurely, drawing the word out into three syllables.
He was just proud of himself for saying a whole entire word.
"Hm," the man hummed, looking around. His eyes lingered on the worn, brown leather booths and the random landscape paintings hung above each table. "Interesting."
As the omega's head was turned, San found himself staring at his side-profile, completely ignoring the man's judgmental tone. It didn't really matter, to be frank, when his face looked like that. When he finished his once-over, the man turned back and met San's eyes. It would have been normal to look away, but San literally couldn't. He just – kept staring. The man didn't look away either. He, too, stared back. And then he smiled.
"So what are Dynamite's specialties?"
San blinked, wholly unprepared for the question.
"Er – coffee?"
The omega looked at the coffee pitcher San abruptly raised up, the dark, hot drink sloshing around inside.
"Sure," the man hummed, his smile widening until it was boxy and perfect.
San filled his mug with a violently shaking hand, and once it was full, San pulled back to put the pitcher back onto the warmer behind him. While he did, he glanced over at Jongho, who gave him a megawatt smile and two thumbs up.
San's ears warmed.
When San turned back to face the omega, he was holding the cup of coffee up to his nose, his tired eyes closed, breathing in the coffee's steam deeply.
San cleared his throat.
"Can I get you anything else?" San asked, and the man didn't even open his eyes when he responded.
"Hmmmm," the omega hummed, still – sniffing? – the coffee. Upon making the realization, San's blush deepened. "I want chocolate milk."
There was a beat of silence.
"O-Okay," San stammered.
And he again waited. When the omega didn't say anything else, San shifted his weight to step away, but then –
"Oh! And some pancakes if you have them."
San again blinked at the omega.
"It – it's a diner," San mumbled.
The man finally opened his eyes.
"Oh good, so you have them!"
San just nodded then, jotting the order onto a ticket, sticking it to Seonghwa's row, quickly filling a glass with chocolate milk, and placing it in front of the fragrant omega before swiftly walking into the kitchen to hide.
Seonghwa took one look at San, and his eyebrows shot up in concern.
"What's up, boss? Are you feeling okay? You look...pale," Seonghwa said worriedly.
San moseyed over to lean against the island, eyeing Seonghwa as he tried to form the right words.
"I'm fine. Um. Question. Has there ever been anyone who, uh, smells really good? Like – abnormally good? But only to you?" San asked, a tiny flash of embarrassment tinting his cheeks.
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and flipped a pancake. San gulped as they cooked, knowing once they were done, it meant he had to face the man again.
"Yeah," Seonghwa answered nonchalantly. "My mate."
San's eyebrows shot up this time. He eyed the faded mark on Seonghwa's neck.
"Really?"
"Yeah. When I met her, I basically drooled all over myself. But I smelled just as good to her, so it wasn't too embarrassing," Seonghwa laughed at the memory.
Yeah, drooling would be one way to describe it.
When Seonghwa looked at San out of the corner of his eye, smiling to himself as he remained busied at the stove, San knew the cook had seen the whole ordeal through the kitchen window. But the older alpha didn't say anything, and for that San's pride would be eternally grateful.
San knew finding his mate would feel something like this. But he had kind of forgotten. San was so much older than most people were when they met their mate. Seonghwa had found his long before San hired him five or so years ago. San had just kind of inadvertently accepted his single status, never expecting anyone to appear who made him feel like – this.
"Oh," San said simply. "I see."
"Yep!" Seonghwa replied, plopping the omega's short stack onto a plate and handing it to San. Seonghwa gave San a look, leading San to believe his elder knew exactly what was happening to San. "Here you go!"
"Thanks, Hyung."
San took the meal to the customer, who had already downed his entire glass of chocolate milk and was now staring blankly at a picture of a field of sunflowers on the wall.
After setting the plate down on the bar top, San warily eyed the warm bottle of syrup he placed beside it.
"Oh! Oh, no thank you, I don't want any syrup," the omega interjected quickly, waving his hands at the condiment. "It feels weird because – well, I'm sure you can smell me. Not very keen on tasting myself, y'know? I mean, at least not out in public," he added with a giggle.
The man's words flipped an unfortunate switch in San's brain. Now, all he could think about was how the man might taste. If it was anything like his smell – fuck. San tried to think of something else in a desperate attempt at keeping all his blood from flowing straight to his dick.
The omega smiled, innocent as ever.
"Do you have any jam?" he asked, his deep voice now rid of sleep and smooth as velvet.
"Yes," San whispered on accident. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Yes!" Well, damn, that time he kind of shouted. "W-What kind would you like?"
"Strawberry's my favorite," he replied.
San nodded vigorously.
After giving the man what he requested, San eyed the empty glass and full mug in front of him.
"Do you want some more chocolate milk? Or fresh coffee?" San asked politely.
The omega looked down at his coffee in surprise, like he had forgotten it was there.
"Oh no, no thanks," he chuckled. God, his chuckle was perfect. "Sorry for wasting a cup. I love the smell of it, it helps me wake up. But I hate the taste. Bleck!"
He stuck his tongue out and made a face, clearly trying to get San to laugh.
Instead, San's jaw hit the floor.
After a careless shrug, the omega slathered his two pancakes with jam, pressed the dressed sides together, and then began eating them like a sandwich.
San managed to move.
"Enjoy your meal," he choked out.
Then, he sauntered over to Jongho, who was trying to cover his manic giggling with a hand.
"He is such a weirdo," Jongho guffawed.
San's metaphorical hackles raised.
"No he's not," San disagreed rather forcefully.
But then the friends looked over and watched as the omega customer smacked his lips loudly as he ate. The pancakes drooped in his hands, globs of red jam dripping everywhere. While he ate, the man kept glancing around the diner's interior, occasionally scrunching his nose in distaste, totally oblivious to his audience.
"Sannie, he's a little weird," Jongho prodded.
San shook his head.
"No. He's perfect."
"Well, he seems to like coffee," Jongho commented as the omega again picked up his coffee and took a long, drawn out sniff. "Maybe you should go wash off your blocker and see what he thinks of your scent."
"What?!" San squeaked. "No way."
Jongho shrugged, lifting his hands in innocent surrender.
"Just a suggestion!"
San did his best after that to be of help to Seonghwa, Mingi, and Hongjoong. But as long as the omega was in the diner, San was thoroughly distracted. Eventually, though, the man finished eating. So, San sheepishly sidled up with his check.
"How was everything?" San asked.
"Good," the man replied shortly. Then he looked around again, just as he had throughout his entire meal. "Y'know, you could use this space way more efficiently. If you turn the tables forty-five degrees, that big waiter will probably stop running into them all the time. Also, you should really re-decorate. It looks like a dentist office in here."
"Oh. Okay," San said dumbly.
The omega responded with his breathtaking rectangular smile.
"Yeah!" he said cheerfully.
San was dazzled.
But then the man handed San his card to pay for the meal.
"Oh. Yeah. I'll be right back with your receipt," San mumbled shyly, grabbing the card and turning toward the register.
When San ran the card, he casually glanced at the name.
Jung Wooyoung.
San brought the card and receipt back, gathered his courage, and handed the man a pen.
"Thank you, Wooyoung. Have a good day!"
Wooyoung smiled kindly again, signing the merchant copy with a flourish and a smiley face. San felt pride swell in his chest when the omega eyeballed San's name by the 'SERVER' line of the receipt.
"Thank you, San," Wooyoung replied brightly, then threw up a peace sign. "See ya!"
Then he hopped off the stool, stretched, and walked out of the diner with a pep in his step.
San felt like he had been run over by a train. The omega's – Wooyoung's – scent lingered in the air, but the moment he retreated out the door, San's wolf howled.
"You're just going to let him leave like that?" Jongho's sudden, shrill voice asked.
"You're still here?" San asked, genuinely surprised.
"Listen, this is the most entertainment I've had in weeks," Jongho teased. "Do you think he'll come back?"
"I don't know," San answered honestly. The omega's scent was already fading. "I hope so."
— ΑΩ —
Wooyoung didn't come back the next day.
Or the next.
Every time San caught even the slightest whiff of maple – which, in a diner, was a lot – San would lift his head towards the door. He would hope for a head of shiny, black hair above the rest. But every time, San's hope was squashed.
San took down all the pictures from Dynamite's walls. He had no idea what he was going to replace them with. But every time he looked at them, he was reminded of Wooyoung's scent. Literally everything reminded San of the omega, and the constant distraction proved to be – well, distracting.
So San moped, Jongho teased, and Seonghwa encouraged.
Until exactly one week later, on a sunny Saturday at noon sharp, Jongho walked into the diner. San expected his friend, as always. But as San raised a hand in greeting, his fingers froze mid-wiggle when he saw a dark-haired, lanky boy in a sweater vest following his best friend in.
"San, hey! Look who I ran into on my way in. It's Wooyoung!"
No shit!
San basked in the glow of Wooyoung's radiant smile before the scent of morning and maple slammed into him like a truck. He opened his mouth to breathe it in, hoping he could taste it, wanting it to seep into his clothes and stay there forever.
"H-Hey, Wooyoung."
San hoped the omega didn't notice the way a shudder wracked his spine when his lips caressed his name. He also hoped Wooyoung didn't notice the way San fought his dick from swelling in his pants.
Wooyoung looked far less sleepy than he did the time before. But when he sat at the bar right next to Jongho, San still brought a pitcher of coffee and filled the omega's mug.
"Thank you," Wooyoung said in a small voice, followed by a small smile.
"Anything to eat today?" San asked, his voice steady.
He gave himself a mental high-five.
Jongho ordered his usual, but Wooyoung shook his head.
"Not right now. Yeosangie is coming, so I'll wait until he's here," the omega replied.
Well, whoever this Yeosangie was took forever, so San scurried around to help Hongjoong and Mingi with the lunch rush. Well, to help the waiters and to distract himself. While San worked, Wooyoung and Jongho chatted like old friends – Jongho could literally talk to anyone. Although the diner was packed, San managed to keep one eye on Wooyoung.
Hell, let's be honest.
He wouldn't have been able to tear his gaze away even if he tried.
So when a small man walked through Dynamite's front door and headed straight to Wooyoung at the bar, San definitely noticed. The man had been into the diner before; San recognized him. He was an alpha with a cinnamon scent that tickled San's nose. The other alpha – Yeosang – was always nice when he came in, San remembered. San sidled up behind the bar and grabbed a coffee pitcher to fill a mug for Yeosang.
But San's pleasant memories of Yeosang were launched into space when the alpha reached Wooyoung and just slightly, very casually nosed at the omega's scent gland, masking Wooyoung's maple scent with a hint of spice. Wolves did this all the time with family, with close friends. San knew this.
Nevertheless, he saw red.
San's alpha snarled, baring his teeth and crouching defensively. For a moment, San felt his humanity melt away. His thoughts lost coherency, and all words normally found there were replaced with just one –
Mine.
He must have growled out loud, because Jongho, Yeosang and Wooyoung all turned their heads to look at San, who was standing a couple yards away. San gripped the coffee pitcher's handle until his knuckles turned white. Jongho looked like he wanted to scream, "ABORT MISSION!" Yeosang's lips curled, mirroring San's. He seemed challenged – protective. And Wooyoung...
Wooyoung looked terrified.
Upon seeing the omega's wide, shimmering eyes, San deflated. The red in his vision dissolved until everything was just blurry. Embarrassed, San turned and placed the pitcher back onto the warmer, planning on scampering to the back with Seonghwa to hide. But San was a bit more worked up than he thought and slammed the glass pitcher down a bit too forcefully.
It shattered on contact.
San heard the gasps of everyone behind him. He didn't bother turning around to see the full diner's reaction to his outburst or even stooping to clean up his mess. San just ducked his head and hurried through the swinging door.
"San? What's wrong? Are you – holy shit you're bleeding!" Seonghwa yelped upon San's appearance.
The younger alpha looked down at his hand, and yup. He had sliced his pinky finger up pretty good.
"Fuck," San mumbled.
To make matters worse, Wooyoung and Jongho burst through the swinging door and into the kitchen with wide, scared eyes.
"San!" Jongho urged. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," San said lowly, avoiding eye contact as he ran his injured hand under the kitchen sink's stream. "You're not supposed to be back here."
San's hand shook in the water – not from pain, but from the way Wooyoung's scent was laced with something other than sweet innocence. It now churned with the sharp, bitter aftertaste of concern and anxiety.
When San stepped away from the sink, forced to move closer to Wooyoung and Jongho toward the first aid kit, Wooyoung grabbed San's arm. It was the first time the omega touched him, his long fingers wrapping all the way around the bare skin of the alpha's forearm. Wooyoung's skin was warm and soft. San kind of wanted to cry.
"I'm sorry, we were just worried – "
"You should leave," San interrupted Wooyoung.
The omega flinched away, immediately releasing his hold. San's skin burned where his hand had been, his skin mourning its loss.
"But – "
"Now."
Wooyoung's bottom lip pouted out and his shoulders drooped – rejected. His scent soured further, now sickly sweet, making San's jaw ache. Then, Wooyoung sauntered out of the kitchen, a disapproving Jongho on his heels.
San watched through the kitchen window as Wooyoung walked up to Yeosang and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Yeosang's head snapped to glare at San. Wooyoung then grabbed Yeosang's hand, his large hand enveloping Yeosang's tiny one, and led the alpha out of the diner. San watched the pair until they disappeared down the street.
They held hands the entire way.
"San, what the hell?" Seonghwa asked, still sweating at the stove, his face flushed from the work and from the situation.
San only shook his head and reached into the first aid kit to grab the supplies he needed to clean up his finger.
There were only a few hours left in the workday, but San moped for every single one of them. Jongho left after trying to pry literally any information from San – how he was feeling, if he was okay. The beta had seen very clearly what had happened, why San had reacted the way he did. But San was entirely mortified, never one to let his emotions get out of control like this.
Thankfully, the afternoon was slow for a Saturday. So San sent everyone home early, perfectly fine with finishing the closing work himself. He was tired, he was grumpy, and he just wanted to go up to his apartment and watch some basketball before going to bed early.
Well, at least he told himself that.
He told himself he would be fine continuing with his cyclical life, like the lanky omega who smelled like heaven hadn't already thrown him off track.
After turning off all the lights of the diner, San dragged his feet to the front door to lock it.
When he did, he froze.
Because on the other side of the foggy glass, San could see Wooyoung jogging across the street toward the diner.
"San!"
San couldn't really hear the omega's voice through the thick door, but he imagined he did as he watched Wooyoung's mouth move to form his name. The sight jostled and stirred something deep in his chest.
"Hey! Hey, San, wait!" Wooyoung hollered again as he made it to the diner.
San opened the door and let Wooyoung in before locking it behind himself. Then, he slowly turned to face the omega, leaning back against the door frame impishly, staring at Wooyoung's shiny leather shoes.
"Hi," San said softly.
"Hi," Wooyoung replied, his voice warm and gentle. The tone wasn't what San expected, so he jerked his head up to look into Wooyoung's dark eyes. "I just – wanted to check in with you. You really worried me earlier. Are you okay?"
San swallowed roughly, trying not to breathe in too much of Wooyoung's scent. God, would he ever get used to it?
"I'm fine. I'm sorry for how I acted," San murmured, still embarrassed from his scene earlier. He tore his eyes from Wooyoung's and looked down at his own shoes this time.
"Is your finger okay?"
San raised his hand up to look at his wound. He had kind of forgotten about it and – oh.
There was fresh, crimson blood seeping through the gauze.
"Uhhhh..."
"Oh no!" Wooyoung gasped. "Come on, let me help you."
Wooyoung grabbed San's good hand like had grabbed Yeosang's earlier and guided San around tables and chairs to the kitchen. Once they were next to the first aid kid, Wooyoung let San go. San suppressed a whimper when he did. But his touch returned quickly, unwinding the half-assed bandage San had crafted earlier. Wooyoung stood close to San, muttering under his breath while he examined the cut.
"You probably should have gone in to get stitches. This is kind of big," Wooyoung lightly scolded.
"Yeah, no," San said shortly.
Wooyoung laughed, startling San.
"Okay, just kidding. We'll just get it fixed up here," Wooyoung quipped back.
The omega made quick work redressing the wound, his long fingers seeming to know exactly what they were doing.
"Are you a nurse?" San blurted.
Wooyoung laughed again. San was already attached to the sound, attached to the idea of making Wooyoung happy enough to laugh over and over again.
"No, not even close. Yeosang is, though. He taught me everything I know."
San felt jealousy simmer in his gut like gravy on a stove.
"Oh."
Wooyoung's nose crinkled. He sniffed the air and looked around the kitchen in confusion.
"Do you still have coffee on? It smells like burnt coffee in here," the omega asked.
San's own confusion replaced his tenseness.
"No...?"
At least he was pretty sure he hadn't. But it had been quite the day, so who knew. Wooyoung just shrugged, then finished with San's finger.
He dropped San's hand but stayed close. San's tummy swooped. Wooyoung frowned.
"Do you seriously not smell coffee? I really — I think I smell..."
Wooyoung's nostrils flared, sniffing the air again. But then his eyes blinked rapidly, and he whipped his head down to look at San. Wooyoung was close enough San could see the omega's pupils dilate.
"San – do you...is your scent, d-do you smell like...?"
San's pulse quickened in his throat. He looked over Wooyoung's shoulder at the clock on the opposite wall. It was after four in the afternoon.
San's scent blockers were wearing off.
"Um."
One day San might be able to speak in multi-syllable sentences when Wooyoung was around.
Today was not the day.
Suddenly Wooyoung's scent was even more overwhelming than before. Now it was different – wetter. When San's brain caught up to what that meant, his pants got tighter. And then he smelled his own scent wafting, too. There was a twinge of bitterness to it, just like Wooyoung had said earlier – burnt. That happened when San got worked up, when he got angry.
But San's jealousy wore off as his full-bodied scent poured from his neck, pushing past the lingering chemicals of the blocker. It hung heavy in the air, mingling with Wooyoung's scent until the diner smelled like it did during the heightened hours of meal rush but better. Coffee and syrup mixed, sugar and caffeine electrifying the air.
San hadn't imagined there was a scent better than Wooyoung's. But this – their combined cocktail – was beyond his wildest dreams.
"San..."
This time, when Wooyoung said San's name, it was a moan, his deep voice making San's mouth go dry. Wooyoung stared at San's neck where the alpha's perfume was the strongest. The omega licked his lips, still standing just inches in front of San, his large, inviting hands twitching at his sides. And then the omega sighed a word — the final straw, the last domino to tip San over the edge — unearthing instincts he hadn't used nor recognized in years.
"...alpha?"
Something in San's chest swelled.
"Omega," he whispered.
And Wooyoung crumpled.
The omega was in San'sarms, leaning into him, arms coming around each other to pull their bodiesflush. A growl rumbled deep in San's chest when he caught a hint of cinnamonstill clinging stubbornly to Wooyoung's maple. Thankfully, Wooyoung's head wasslumped onto San's shoulder, so San only had to turn his head to the side, intothe crook of Wooyoung's neck. San was careful, keeping his skin away from Wooyoung's.But in half a second, Wooyoung whimpered,
"Yes. S-Scent me. San – alpha, please..."
Then he tilted his head, bared his neck to San.
And San dove in.
His alpha took over. San pressed his nose into the skin of Wooyoung's neck, running it up his jawline to his ear, dipping below its lobe and then back down. He traced along the spot where Wooyoung's syrupy accord was most potent, sucking in as much of the scent his lungs would allow.
"Is it like this for you, too?" Wooyoung asked, his voice soft, delicate, fragile.
"Yes," San assured him. "The moment you walked into the diner – it changed everything. I've never felt anything like this before."
"Me neither," Wooyoung whined. "Why didn't you say anything?"
San felt a flush creep up his neck. So he pressed in deeper, letting his lips touch Wooyoung's heated throat.
"I can't really think when you're around," San replied into the omega's skin.
"Fuck, San," Wooyoung gasped when San swiped his lips across him again. "This – does this mean...?"
San growled protectively and let his tongue lap against the center of Wooyoung's scent gland. The omega moaned and melted further into San's hold. San felt Wooyoung's erection press against his hip, so the alpha ran his hands down Wooyoung's back, along his sides and to his hips so he could press his own hardness against the omega's front.
When he did, he could smell Wooyoung's slick seep into his underwear.
And San was gone.
Wolf and human were one; senses were sharpened. There was the overwhelming urge to take care of his omega, to coddle and breed and mate.
He pulled back from Wooyoung's neck, eliciting another whine from the omega. But the noise was cut short when San slammed his mouth into Wooyoung's.
Frantic.
San was frantic, yanking Wooyoung's vest off between kisses, hissing between his teeth when Wooyoung fumbled with his belt before shoving his pants and underwear down to his ankles, kicking them and his loafers away with urgency. San stepped away to pull his shirt off, and once he had it over his head and tossed aside, Wooyoung had his ripped off, too, leaving him completely bare.
San paused.
Oh, fuck.
Before San could properly oogle, the omega turned to the island in the middle of the kitchen, rested his elbows on its top, and bent over to present himself.
And San dropped to his knees.
The alpha gripped Wooyoung's asscheeks – pale porcelain on olive – and spread them, making Wooyoung whimper and push back, his hole fluttering under San's gaze. San let the pad of his thumb pass over the omega's pretty pink rim in awe.
"Ah – " Wooyoung gasped.
When he did, a bit of slick dribbled out — fragrant, sticky, and warm. San didn't think twice, leaning forward to lap it up. Just one lick, one pass over Wooyoung's ass and he was already addicted. San's cock throbbed in his pants. As if he wasn't hard enough before – now he could literally feel the base of it thickening, preparing for a knot just from Wooyoung's taste.
"San," Wooyoung groaned, resting his head on the island with his arms.
"Taste better than you smell, baby, fuck," San growled.
The alpha's words had another gush of slick dripping from Wooyoung, sliding down his thick thighs and onto the kitchen floor. It was an invitation.
So San rushed in for more.
He sucked the slick right out of the omega, letting his tongue circle around the ring of muscle before pressing hard, forcing his way in. Wooyoung was a mess now – literally and figuratively. He babbled, whined, grinded back against San's face. Slick was pouring out now, too much for San to lap up, spreading all over San's and Wooyoung's cheeks.
San could feel Wooyoung loosening up around his tongue, already ready for his cock. He released his crushing grip from one of the omega's plush cheeks so he could wiggle in a finger next to his tongue. There was absolutely no resistance, so San added a second. As San pushed them in and out as his tongue caressed the shallow space it could reach, Wooyoung's legs began to shake.
"Alpha, a-alpha gonna come, need to come, please please please – "
San pulled back, extracting his fingers and mouth to stand up and finally free his dick from the constraint of his pants. He gripped it, shuffled forward, then pressed his cockhead into Wooyoung's slicked up crack. The tip dipped in, the omega's wet heat enveloping him perfectly. San groaned, then prepared to press all the way in.
But Wooyoung cried out and jerked forward, startling San out of his hazy, fucked-out trance.
"Wait! Wait wait," the omega squealed.
San pulled out with a pained cry.
"Baby, what is it?" he ground out. Wooyoung didn't say any words, just indecipherably whimpered. "Wooyoung, please, you need to talk to me."
"Don't knot me," Wooyoung sobbed.
San wheezed out a breath and looked down at his cock, still firmly gripped in his hand. He was literally already popping a knot; he could feel it pulsing, growing. But Wooyoung sounded scared, and his scent reflected that. The sharpness helped clear San's mind.
"I don't – I don't think I can stop it, baby. Can – you don't think you can take it? Is this your first time, omega?"
Wooyoung shook his head, looking back at San over his shoulder.
Fuck, he was so beautiful. His cheeks flushed, lips red and bitten, tears clinging to his pretty lashes. But behind the beauty was shame.
"I-I don't want you to knot me unless y-you're gonna mate me, too."
San hesitated for the first time all afternoon.
Wooyoung wasn't scared of being knotted, he just –
He wanted it all.
San again glanced down at his painfully hard, angry dick. The head glistened, his precome mixing with his omega's slick. His instincts, his wolf, half of him wanted to forge on, to push into Wooyoung's tight wetness and fuck him until he hung off his knot. But the other part of him, San, the thinker, the conscientious side of his mind knew it might be better to wait.
Mating was a huge deal. A huge decision that needed a conversation to back it up. But there was no time to talk; he and his omega needed to come.
Like, now.
"Are you sure, omega?"
"Y-Yes, I'm sor- "
"Shh, shh, it's okay baby," San murmured softly.
The alpha stroked his omega's backside, soothing him before his hands left for a moment. Distress tainted Wooyoung's scent, but San moved quickly, only needed to yank his pants off, kicking them aside to join the rest of their crumpled clothes. Wooyoung cried out in surprise when San reached forward to push three fingers into Wooyoung's hole, fucking into him only to pull his slicked-up fingers out as quickly as he'd pressed them in.
Then, San gripped Wooyoung's hips, pulling him away from the island so the alpha could take his place. He leaned over the island like Wooyoung had, spreading his legs so his ass was on display.
"Alpha?"
"Fuck me, omega," San urged, beckoning Wooyoung over. "C'mon."
San took his fingers covered in Wooyoung's sticky maple slick, shoving two into the clenching heat of his ass. It burned a little, but the warmth of Wooyoung's syrupy arousal had San loosening around his fingers faster than he expected. San looked back at Wooyoung, who was staring open-mouthed at San's fingers going in and out.
"Wooyoung, come on, baby, fuck me. Still want you, omega. Even if I can't knot you," San groaned, adding a third finger. He felt his face contort as his long fingers brushed over his own prostate. "Fuck, please."
Wooyoung wordlessly reached back behind himself, and when his fingers came back shining with slick, San sighed with relief and let his own fingers slip out. Wooyoung's quickly replaced them. When the omega's long, slender fingers sunk in, San grunted and slumped forward onto the island, giving Wooyoung an even better angle.
"I'm ready, don't need stretched anymore," San gasped.
"Okay. Okay, alpha," Wooyoung said, his voice so small, so needy.
So perfect.
San was ready to do whatever it took for his omega to feel good, to be satisfied.
He squeezed his eyes shut when Wooyoung sidled up, putting the smallest pressure on San's hole with the tip of his pretty, slicked-up omega cock. When he pushed in, San gasped out a breath.
Wooyoung was big for an omega, and it hurt. But San just breathed until Wooyoung bottomed out, his hips pressed against San, leaning over the alpha's petite frame, breathing down his neck. Their scents intermingled until they were inseparable like a creamy maple latte, and – fuck.
"Can I move?"
Wooyoung's fingers dug into San's hips.
"Yes," San gasped.
And Wooyoung did.
The omega pulled back slowly, then rocked his hips forward until he slid back in. San wondered if Wooyoung had ever fucked, if he had ever even been fucked. But the omega quickly found his rhythm, breath coming out in quick gasps as his skin slapped against San's. San gripped the edge of the island, clenching his teeth as he felt his knot begin to swell – fuck, he was going to pop a knot from getting fucked.
San was already losing it. But then Wooyoungs deep, breathy voice began speaking directly into his ear.
"Oh, fuck. Alpha, oh fuck...feels am-amazing," he moaned.
"You too omega, fuck me so good, fuck your alpha so good," San sighed, and his words made Wooyoung's breath hitch.
Then, San cried out when one of Wooyoung's hands reached down and wrapped around the base of San's cock.
"Knot me, alpha," Wooyoung hissed, his lips brushing the shell of San's ear.
"W-Woo – "
Wooyoung squeezed, and San felt his knot really begin to swell.
"Mmh, yes alpha knot me, c'mon," Wooyoung groaned, picking up his pace, fucking into San harshly, desperately. "Wanna be full of you, fill me up alpha, fuck yes yes yes – "
"Gonna knot," San ground out.
"Fuck me, knot me – fuck fuck fuck fuck – "
San heard Wooyoung coming before he felt it. He heard the echo of his omega's slick pattering noisily onto the linoleum of the kitchen before he felt his dick twitching in San's ass. The warm wetness of his release oozed and dripped out and down San's thighs.
Once he felt it, San let go, too.
Wooyoung's cock began softening as San clenched around him, the omega's fingers squeezing San's knot as he released all over the side of the island. There was so much come, San didn't think he would ever stop. His hips twitched with every rope, but Wooyoung kept his grip on his knot, even when San was done, just dripping onto the floor.
They stayed like that for a long while, San leaning over the island, Wooyoung leaning over San. Eventually Wooyoung released his hold on San's knot, and it didn't feel particularly good. So San replaced his omega's grip with his own. Wooyoung slipped out then, making San shudder at the loss. But the omega quickly returned his touch, kissing a trail along San's bare, broad shoulder, then down his spine, then up again.
When San felt he could speak, he straightened, wincing as his knot finally deflated and his ass clenched around nothing. Then turned to look at Wooyoung.
He was so goddamn fucking beautiful.
"Stay with me tonight," San demanded.
Wooyoung nodded, bending over to start cleaning up their mess.
San shook his head.
"I'll clean it up tomorrow before I open. I'm too tired, let's go upstairs."
"Okay," was all Wooyoung said.
San was surprised by the connection they already had, even without a mating bite. He could tell that Wooyoung was tired, too, that the omega was feeling vulnerable. All San wanted was to wrap him up in his arms, to promise him everything was going to be okay.
Everything was going to be perfect.
When they walked into San's studio – his work desk messy and strewn with papers, his bed unmade, his walls bare – Wooyoung scrunched his nose the same way he had while looking at the diner.
San smiled, leading Wooyoung to his bed.
Once they reached it, they fell into each other like they had done it a million times before. San crawled to his side of the bed, and Wooyoung followed him surely. The omega curled into the alpha's chest, and San wrapped his arms around his omega's frame. For a while they just lay there, breathing and thinking and basking together.
But then San smirked to himself.
"So, what do you have against my diner's décor?"
Wooyoung giggled, and San wished he could bottle up the noise for keepsake.
"I'm an interior designer. I can't help it," Wooyoung answered shyly.
"Ohh, that makes sense," San hummed. "Do you need a job? I'd hire you."
Wooyoung laughed.
"You definitely need my services, alpha."
San scoffed playfully.
"You're kinda savage, aren't you?" he asked.
Wooyoung pulled back to look down at San with a teasing glint in his eye.
"Mhm, and you're kinda jealous."
"What? Wha- no, what?!" San stammered.
Wooyoung giggled again.
"You don't have to worry about Yeosang, San. He's my best friend – and he's already mated. With Mingi, actually. That's how he knows about Dynamite, and why he wanted to meet up here."
"Oh."
San one: felt dumb, and two: felt terrible for not even knowing one of his waiters had a mate.
"Yup!" Wooyoung quipped, cheery and bright.
The omega lowered back onto San's chest. San started drawing patterns on Wooyoung's smooth, tanned back.
"So..." San started. Then paused. Then started again. "You want to be my mate."
Wooyoung's body tensed for a moment, but then he sighed. It was a sassy sigh.
"I am your mate," the omega grumbled.
That something welled in San's chest again.
"Yes, you are," he murmured.
Wooyoung nuzzled deeper into his chest.
"Then why won't you mate me?" he asked San.
"That's a huge commitment, omega. A huge deal. And I – I don't really know you," San answered honestly.
Wooyoung clamored upright again, bristled and pouting.
"I know that! I don't know you either, duh. But I don't care. At all. My wolf has never been like this before. You're...it, San. I don't care if it's too fast. I'm never gonna want anyone else. I want you forever. I want you to be mine."
San caught the change in Wooyoung's scent before it affected them both, abruptly pulling the omega closer, scenting him to try and calm him down.
"We'll be mated, baby. Soon, probably. I just – I need to think about it, okay?" San pleaded into his neck, hoping his omega understood.
The alpha sagged in relief against his pillows when he felt Wooyoung nod.
"Okay."
San kept his nose glued to Wooyoung's neck, scenting him until they were both seeing stars. It had been such a long day, and San's eyes drooped against his will. Especially when Wooyoung began scenting him back.
"Is it too early for you to sleep?" San slurred, and he felt Wooyoung's breath stutter against his neck when he laughed.
"Yes, it's like seven-thirty. But it's okay, alpha, go to sleep. I'll be here."
"Mmh," San hummed.
Then, he fell asleep in his omega's arms.
— ΑΩ —
San never had dreams.
But that night in Wooyoung's arms, he dreamt the most vivid, most realistic, most satisfying dreams.
When he woke, it was with a start, in a panic. San calmed when Wooyoung's sleepy limbs unconsciously tightened around him. The pair were completely tangled up in each other, every inch touching. Wooyoung's face was tucked into the crook of San's neck and shoulder. The omega's lips moved silently in his sleep, whispering the language of his dreams, brushing so softly against San's scent gland.
And oh fuck, San's apartment smelled better than it ever had.
Which reminded him – his dreams.
San had dreamt of Wooyoung.
He had dreamt of the life he might have with him.
Of a mating ceremony and a new, perfectly decorated house. Of a shared, pretty bed and a big family kitchen. Of a dining room table with six chairs. Of a back yard and a picket fence. Of Wooyoung sharing all of it with him. Of Wooyoung curling against his side every night after work, watching television with him, eating dinner, taking naps. Of Wooyoung sporting a mating bite. Of Wooyoung's tummy swollen with pups.
The reason San had woken up in a panic was because the dream's perfection had come to an end.
But it didn't have to.
"Wooyoung," San whispered.
The omega sighed long and soft, then squirmed a bit.
"Woo, baby," San crooned, coaxing the other awake. He ran his fingertips along Wooyoung's back, sliding them up into the omega's thick crown of hair, scratching gently at his scalp. "Omega, wake up."
"Mmf," Wooyoung whined and groaned. "Why?"
"My pretty, sleepy omega," San murmured. Wooyoung sighed happily, dreamily. "My perfect mate."
That had Wooyoung pulling back, and San laughed.
"Hm? Wha?"
Wooyoung looked sleepy and squishy, just like he had when San first laid eyes on him. Pale morning sunlight illuminated the omega's perfect skin, his lips so dark, his eyes even darker. The emotion that welled up in San could probably be called love. But San wasn't sure that was the right word. He knew he'd end up loving Wooyoung. He was honestly more than halfway there.
But what he felt then – looking at his omega, blinking sleep from his eyes – was more than love. It was the same satisfaction as placing the last piece into a puzzle, the same as closing out the last check of the day, the same as finding the missing sock to his favorite pair.
Wooyoung completed San.
"Mate," San said again, and Wooyoung's dark eyes went black. "My mate."
"Yours?" Wooyoung whispered. "Really?"
San nodded.
"Can I make you mine, omega?"
Wooyoung nodded, too.
Then he leaned forward and captured his alpha's lips in a kiss.
As their mouths slipped and slid together, tongues tangling, moans sighing, clinging to each other, San felt Wooyoung's cock fattening against his own. San started rolling his hips against Wooyoung. The omega moaned, pulled back from San's mouth with a wet smack, then swiftly rolled onto his back and bared his neck.
"Alpha," he breathed. "Mate me."
San's moan was a whine, but he swallowed it and climbed between Wooyoung's long, spread legs, settling at their juncture. He could feel wet heat radiating from Wooyoung's hole, and San shuddered at the promise of what was to come. Wooyoung bucked his hips up, using his body to ask San to roll into him so their lengths pressed and rubbed together again.
Wooyoung whimpered as San rocked into him harder, kissing from his omega's collarbone to his ear, then nuzzling into his sticky sweet scent.
"Gonna do it right here," San whispered against Wooyoung's skin, right beneath his ear.
He licked Wooyoung's salty, fragrant skin, then sucked the skin into his mouth, letting his teeth graze the flesh. Thick, syrupy maple flooded San's nose, his mouth, his entire being until his thoughts stuck together in a clumpy mess.
"Yes, yes please, yes," Wooyoung babbled.
San pulled back and quickly reached down to shove two fingers into Wooyoung. The omega was already soaked, no need for a stretch, open and ready for San and his knot. San didn't waste any time and lined himself up.
"Are you ready, omega?" Wooyoung nodded blearily. "You'll be mine forever. No one else's. Just mine."
"Yes. 'M yours, alpha, you're mine. My mate, mate me, mate me alpha," Wooyoung begged, his words' coherency gone but their urgency strong as ever.
San pressed his hips forward and filled his omega to the brim.
"San," Wooyoung gasped.
They moved together perfectly, more perfect than San could ever imagine. Wooyoung's fingers gripped onto San's shoulders, his fingernails digging in, breaking the skin. When San wasn't nipping and sucking and breathing into Wooyoung's mouth, he was dipping down to lap at Wooyoung's scent gland. San didn't think he'd be able to stand Wooyoung's scent alone ever again, needing it to be mixed beautifully with his own.
It didn't take long for Wooyoung to whine into San's mouth that he was close. San could tell by the way his hole clenched around his cock, by the way the omega's dick lay trapped, hard, twitching, and hot between their stomachs. Wooyoung felt unbelievable around San, unbelievable and wet, milking him quickly to his release.
The moment he felt his knot start to thicken, San pulled back to look at Wooyoung. That only lasted a quick moment, until Wooyoung wrapped his arms around San's neck, pulling him forcefully down so that his mouth was at Wooyoung's throat.
San's knot grew bigger and bigger, catching on Wooyoung's rim with every pass. But then it finally slipped in and anchored, connecting the pair for good, and Wooyoung wrapped his legs around San's waist.
"Alpha, alpha – I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm – "
And then San let his instincts take over, appeased his tingling gums and bit into Wooyoung's flesh. His teeth broke his omega's skin so easily, like it was butter. Wooyoung keened, sounding more like a wolf than ever before, his arms tightening around San, holding him as close as possible.
As their bond formed – as they were bound together for good – San came.
He emptied himself into Wooyoung, the omega's hole pulsing around San's knot as the omega released between them, hot and wet. Wooyoung's blood filled San's mouth, and the alpha quickly released his hold to lick at the wound, letting his saliva heal the mark as quickly as he'd made it. He kissed his omega over and over, on every inch of the fresh mark, along Wooyoung's jawline, on his mewling mouth.
Then San shimmied up, as far as he could considering they were still connected, and bared his neck to Wooyoung, letting his mate mark him, too. When Wooyoung's teeth sunk into his neck, San came again, waves of pleasure pulsing from Wooyoung's mouth to the rest of him, his knot getting impossibly bigger, cementing their bond.
When they were done, San collapsed onto Wooyoung's chest.
"San?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you," Wooyoung sobbed.
And that's when San noticed his mate had tears streaming down his ruddy, sweaty cheeks.
"Oh, baby..."
San lifted his head with great difficulty and kissed Wooyoung deep and slow. They got lost in each other until San could slip out, and they rolled onto their sides.
San felt whole.
Wooyoung curled into his chest once his tears subsided, his full lips pressing against San's sore neck every so often.
After a while, San's brain suddenly remembered where they were, who he was, what he normally did.
"Fuck!"
He scrambled to find his phone, then checked the time – eight-thirty in the morning.
"Fuck!"
"Alpha?" Wooyoung murmured warily, sniffling and wiping at his face.
"Sorry baby, I just – the diner, shit shit fuck."
Awaiting San on his phone was a slew of messages from Seonghwa. When he read them, San blushed from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes.
~
SEONGHWA
Hey boss
Um.
...
I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen
Let's just pretend this didn't happen.
Hongjoong, Mingi and I have today handled.
Take the day off. Please
And – congrats lol
Notes:
Twt: highlordnamjoon