WGD Ch 12
by soapa“Haa… haa…”
Cha Wonwoo pulled his hips back to catch his breath. The way Siheon clenched around him, reluctant to let go, felt so good yet so sad. Turning Siheon’s head while they lay on their sides, he pressed their lips together without hesitation.
“Mmph, ngh, Won, woo…”
Stirring Siheon’s mouth with soft, hot flesh, Cha Wonwoo paused with only the tip of his cock inside, and the hole pulsed as if urging him to move. A growl like that of a beast rumbled from Cha Wonwoo’s throat. The tongue ravaging Siheon’s mouth carried raw obsession. Under the relentless movements, Siheon, running out of breath, thrashed, crumpling the sheets with his feet.
“Haa, haa, hnn…”
“Hnn, hnn,”
As their lips parted, suppressed breaths burst out. Tears of arousal pooled in Siheon’s eyes. Seeing this, Cha Wonwoo felt an aching throb below. He couldn’t say it outright, but he was insanely turned on. Extending his hand, he gripped Siheon’s chest. The nipples, sucked so much earlier, were swollen and puffy. Pinching the erect nipple between his firm knuckles and kneading the entire chest with his palm, Siheon clenched even tighter below.
“Hyung…”
Calling Siheon with a longing voice, Cha Wonwoo thrust his cock fully into the slick hole and slowly rolled his hips.
“Nngh.”
Matching Siheon’s unsuppressed nasal moan, Cha Wonwoo gripped his pelvis from behind and increased his pace. As he began thrusting roughly, the inner walls eagerly sucked in the rigid cock.
“Haa, I want to see your face.”
Siheon’s voice, hoarse from shouting, was half-gone. His eyes, twisting to see Cha Wonwoo’s face, flickered between focus and haze. Despite panting, his effort to keep looking at Cha Wonwoo made Cha Wonwoo swallow a curse and thrust his hips forcefully.
“Hnn, ngh, Won, woo, ah,”
Cha Wonwoo gritted his teeth, watching Siheon, and shook his hips without rhythm. Even as his body jolted wildly, Siheon’s refusal to look away made Cha Wonwoo’s core ache. One of Siheon’s legs, draped over Cha Wonwoo’s thigh while lying on their sides, swayed lewdly in the air with its owner’s movements. The mounting sensations made both of them twitch from hips to toes. It was electrifying yet stifling. They wanted to reach the liberating climax but also to savor this moment just shy of it.
“Ah, hah, nngh,”
“Shh, it’s okay, hnn, it’s okay.”
“If it’s okay… this…”
Then, Siheon fumbled and took Cha Wonwoo’s free hand. He began slowly sucking Cha Wonwoo’s fingers with a mouth as wet and warm as his hole.
“…This is fucking insane.”
For Siheon, sucking with audible noises, Cha Wonwoo pressed his thick fingers against Siheon’s tongue.
“Haa, was your mouth feeling empty?”
“Hnngh, mm…”
“I should’ve fucked your mouth earlier.”
Despite his words, Cha Wonwoo moved his hand carefully to avoid hurting Siheon’s throat. With glazed eyes, Siheon extended his tongue and opened his mouth wider to let the fingers move freely. As they slid in and out, he tightened his lips around them as if they were a cock.
It was maddeningly arousing.
Unable to even think of wiping the drool from his mouth, seeing Siheon being fucked from both ends, Cha Wonwoo felt a surge of climax. No longer delaying, he thrust his hips fiercely—thud, thud, thud.
“Haa, ah, hyung, I think I’m gonna come, nngh, can I come?”
Pounded relentlessly below, Siheon couldn’t even moan, only nodding. Cha Wonwoo kept thrusting vigorously for a while. Only beast-like groans echoed between them. Siheon’s body jolted with the cock’s movements inside. Then, with a force unlike anything before, Cha Wonwoo slammed inside with a bang.
“Haa, ngh,”
“Ah,”
It felt like being struck by climax. As reason evaporated, they trembled, mouths agape, like people who forgot how to breathe. Both the front with the cock and the back with the hole were drenched. The slick flowing from the hole, splattered by the thrusts, was especially heavy behind.
At that moment, the tip of Cha Wonwoo’s cock, deep inside, began to swell. Cha Wonwoo growled like a beast in Siheon’s trembling ear. His large hand groped Siheon’s stomach, as if confirming the cock he’d thrust inside. To soothe the pained omega, alpha pheromones poured out wildly. At this point, omegas also activate pain-relieving substances to endure the intense pain of knotting. One of these was pheromones.
Siheon felt his nearly blocked pheromone gland burst open as Cha Wonwoo knotted, his pheromones filling the room. In response, the tip of Cha Wonwoo’s cock swelled further. The glans, hardened beyond bulging, dug painfully into the inner walls.
Their pheromones, reacting to each other, flooded like a collapsing dam.
Regaining his senses, Cha Wonwoo hugged Siheon from behind, kissing from his face to his shoulders. Despite the aching pain from knotting, Siheon’s body relaxed under the kisses—whether aftercare or comfort. The searing pain below was bearable, thanks to their shared body heat.
Cha Wonwoo’s large hand brushed back Siheon’s sweat-dampened hair. The warm touch lingered, patting every part it reached. After ravaging like he’d devour Siheon, he was now gently pecking at his lips.
“Hyung… hyung…”
Leaning against Cha Wonwoo’s firm chest, Siheon blinked slowly. He clasped Cha Wonwoo’s hand, groping his stomach, intertwining their fingers. Fingers once adorned with wedding rings, now empty, locked together warmly to fill the void.
Turning his head slightly, Cha Wonwoo eagerly pressed his lips to Siheon’s.
“Mmm…”
The tongue, always invasive, now moved like a young animal’s. Grazing the palate and cheeks with faint force, it withdrew with a long, slurping sound.
“I’ll take care of everything. Sleep if you’re tired.”
Cha Wonwoo whispered tenderly in Siheon’s ear. Though the tightness from knotting ached, Siheon’s languid body couldn’t resist. Unable to suppress his instincts, Cha Wonwoo hugged Siheon and thrust his hips a few times. The knotted lower parts locked together without a gap.
“Nngh…”
“It’s okay, sleep.”
Under the soothing touch, Siheon’s eyes fluttered, gradually succumbing to sleep. Unable to think, intoxicated by pheromones and drifting between pain and pleasure, a sudden realization hit Siheon.
“Right. Cha Wonwoo, your hand,”
It’s injured…
But before he could finish, his eyes closed.
The last sensation he remembered wasn’t the fullness of the cock inside, the exhaustion, or the languor after sex.
It was the fact that Cha Wonwoo was behind him.
The sense of security from that alone.
＊＊＊＊＊
Siheon was sitting in a swan-shaped pedal boat.
A foggy river. The stench of water. Peeling paint. A hard plastic seat. Creak—creak—. The screeching sound of unoiled pedals, like a scream.
The uncomfortable seat made his hips sore and achy. Shifting, Siheon noticed someone beside him.
A kid?
An older elementary student? A middle schooler? Around that age, but the fog obscured their face.
Was he wearing a hat? What was he holding?
Leaning closer to see better, narrowing his brow, the boy suddenly looked up and called Siheon.
…
What? He was definitely saying something, but no sound reached Siheon. Beyond the hazy vision, a boy resembling someone opened his lips again.
“Hyung.”
The swan boat lurched. Startled, Siheon reflexively grabbed the boy’s arm and opened his eyes wide.
“Ah…”
“Are you okay?”
“Here…”
“Yeah, in the bathtub. I’ll handle everything, so don’t worry and sleep more.”
Warmth enveloped Siheon. In a large bathtub, naked, Cha Wonwoo firmly supported Siheon’s back. It seemed the arm Siheon grabbed wasn’t the boy’s from the dream but Cha Wonwoo’s.
Gentle ripples. The sound of calm water. The sensation of floating like a buoy on the vast sea. The tension from the swan boat’s lurch relaxed, and his body slowly melted.
The scent of fog.
With the familiar fragrance at his nose, Siheon closed his eyes and sank back into deep sleep. The sensation of his pheromone gland being gently bitten was the last thing before darkness. Complete blackout.
When Siheon woke again, it was just past six in the morning.
All the curtains must have been drawn, as the room’s dim light didn’t strain his eyes.
He blinked his dry eyes aimlessly. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he noticed a motionless ceiling fan. Last night’s sex took place under a large mirror, not a fan…
Right, I slept with Cha Wonwoo.
The sudden realization threw him into reality unprepared.
Divorced couple. Sex. Rut. Knotting.
The words hit his brain in sequence. He didn’t regret his choice. It was the best decision at the time. There was too much to take responsibility for to dwell on the past.
Checking below, he was relieved to be in a soft robe, not naked. Cha Wonwoo must have dressed him. Before getting up, Siheon looked around and spotted Cha Wonwoo sitting far off. Out of place in the peaceful morning quiet, he stared silently, his expression hidden in the dark.
“…”
Leaning against the wall, he said nothing.
“…Why are you over there like that?”
Siheon’s voice, fresh from sleep, was low and gravelly. Clearing his throat, Cha Wonwoo quickly moved to fetch a prepared bottle of water.
“Don’t move. You still have meds.”
As Siheon tried to sit up, Cha Wonwoo stopped him, supporting his neck. Meds? Siheon glanced at the bedside with his eyes. A clear IV tube from a portable pole was connected to his left hand. No wonder he felt better than expected. Despite likely torn inner membranes from knotting, the IV must have dulled the pain.
“Drink slowly.”
Cha Wonwoo quietly watched Siheon drink while leaning against him. His eyes searched for something, perhaps a flicker of regret on Siheon’s face.
After finishing the water, careful hands helped Siheon lie back down.
“…Sleep more.”
As Cha Wonwoo observed Siheon, Siheon studied him.
Unlike usual, his drooping eyebrows, oddly subdued eyes, tense nose, lips stiffened with guilt, and a face weighed by heavy emotions were impossible to ignore.
“Cha Wonwoo.”
Siheon couldn’t help but stop him as he turned to adjust the blanket.
“Don’t sneak off like a coward. Sit down. Now.”
His pitiful, head-lowered figure was heart-wrenching. Why so down? Clicking his tongue inwardly, Siheon tossed out a light question to ease the mood.
“Does this fancy room come with hotel doctor visits?”
Cha Wonwoo, not in the mood for jokes, shook his head and parted his dry lips.
“They probably do. But this time, I called someone separately. My primary doctor from birth until I moved to Korea.”
After his biological father’s death, before joining Chairman Cha, Cha Wonwoo lived in the U.S. By birthplace, New York was his hometown. As the dominant alpha to inherit the CH Group, he received dedicated care from a prestigious U.S. trait clinic from birth to growth. This doctor must be exceptional.
“Calling them at dawn like this is okay?”
Isn’t that a waste of elite talent? Smiling weakly, Siheon asked, and Cha Wonwoo countered as if there was no reason not to.
“The money I’ve poured into the foundation, company, and clinic under donations is massive. You deserve to benefit too.”
“That’s not my money.”
It was just a remark, but Cha Wonwoo, pulling the blanket to Siheon’s chin, stared intently and said.
“You’re my family.”
Family. At that word, despite drinking a whole bottle of water, Siheon’s throat felt parched. Their gazes tangled chaotically in the air. Cha Wonwoo looked away first.
“Sorry.”
Siheon didn’t ask what for. Instead, he smiled bitterly.
“Getting an apology after sex feels weird.”
“…”
“Did you commit a crime? You probably don’t remember well because of the rut, but you told me to go. I stayed. It wasn’t forced, so don’t apologize.”
Still, Cha Wonwoo couldn’t meet his eyes. Siheon debated comforting him further but changed the subject.
“By the way, your hand injury?”
Cha Wonwoo showed a palm with a small dressing. He added it was no big deal, not to worry. After hesitating, he finally squeezed out words.
“And the morning-after pill… I got it just in case.”
Hesitating, Cha Wonwoo took a pen-shaped syringe from the nightstand drawer and placed it out. As Siheon’s gaze shifted there, he quickly added.
“But I hope you don’t use it. We never got pregnant during our marriage, even with ruts or heats, so there’s no need to take harmful drugs.”
Siheon’s expression subtly hardened. Recessive omega. Especially male recessive omegas had a slim chance of pregnancy. They both knew this well.
“The hospital said not to have sex, but this happened, so I have no excuse… I know I have no right to say this, but I still hope you don’t use it. Your pheromone levels are unstable, and using this…”
Cha Wonwoo trailed off, emotions choking his voice, and took a breath.
Emergency morning-after pill.
For betas, high-dose hormonal pills spike hormone levels to prevent implantation.
For traited individuals, it was similar. The clear liquid emergency contraceptive for traited people was injected directly via a pen-shaped syringe with a button. It artificially regulated pheromones, so it was best avoided. Doctors didn’t recommend it. The words “emergency” and “urgent” weren’t attached for nothing.
Brushing back his bangs irritably, Cha Wonwoo looked at Siheon with a conflicted face, his eyes red from intense emotions.
He might cry.
Sighing lightly, Siheon sat up, and Cha Wonwoo rushed to support him.
“I said don’t move.”
“I can’t lie here all day. And this,” Siheon gestured to the IV, “once it’s done, I need to check my room. Staff will be here soon.”
“Hyung.”
Cha Wonwoo’s eyes suddenly turned cold, staring at Siheon accusingly.
“You’re going to your schedule?”
Of course. An alpha’s possessiveness over a knotted omega was universal. For at least two days, rational thought was clouded by possessive instincts. Cha Wonwoo was no different. Moments ago, he was wallowing in melodrama, but now his face hardened, and he lunged, hugging Siheon tightly.
“You can’t go. No way. Don’t go.”
“Why so many ‘no’s today?”
Cha Wonwoo hugged Siheon’s waist, burying his cheek in his shoulder. Hnn… Exhaling hotly, he said.
“You’re not leaving this room.”
Checking the remaining IV, Siheon replied calmly.
“Not leave? If I have legs, I walk out. And I don’t need permission. You’re not in a position to order me.”
Cha Wonwoo hugged Siheon’s waist tighter, growling like a predator guarding its prey.
“This is my room, so you can’t leave without my permission.”
At the absurd complaint, Siheon pried Cha Wonwoo off and pointed to his pheromone gland.
“You marked my body without permission.”
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he’d been steeped in Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones all night. Getting showered in pheromones during sex was common, but marking was more overt.
To mark, the pheromone gland is bitten to wound it, and alpha pheromones are poured in. For days, the omega carries the alpha’s scent and pheromones. The stronger the alpha, the longer it lasts.
Omegas can mark alphas too, but since it’s a bold claim of ownership, prideful alphas rarely allow it.
Cha Wonwoo, however, since their honeymoon…
“Why don’t you mark me, hyung? A marriage certificate isn’t everything.”
Shocked, Siheon gifted him The Life of Traited Individuals — Marking Edition, but it was futile. The next day, after finishing it in one go, Cha Wonwoo showed Siheon highlighted sections upon returning from a shoot.
“It says it’s possible with mutual consent between legal adults.”
Siheon pointed out a crucial fact.
“Wonwoo, I… I didn’t consent.”
“Oh…”
That night, while bathing together, Siheon explained why traited individuals in society shouldn’t be marked, half-panting from being fucked. It didn’t stop Cha Wonwoo’s sulking, though.
Siheon touched near his pheromone gland. It felt bumpy, properly bitten.
“Look at this.”
Cha Wonwoo, lips pursed like a clam, glanced nervously before swiftly hugging Siheon. It was more like curling into him.
The big guy’s embrace was overwhelming, but Siheon patted his back with his free hand. Thinking about carrying Cha Wonwoo’s pheromone scent all day gave him a slight headache.
Others wouldn’t know the source of Siheon’s pheromones. They’d wonder how, so soon after the divorce announcement, he’d let an alpha mark him. Being in a more open-minded foreign country was a small mercy.
In Korea? If they knew it was Cha Wonwoo? It’d still be awkward. Sex with an ex-husband. But what did others’ opinions matter? Only they knew the complicated circumstances.
A whirlwind of thoughts swept through Siheon’s mind. Whatever he thought or worried about, he didn’t want to show it to Cha Wonwoo. Resting his cheek on Cha Wonwoo’s head, he said.
“I won’t be mad about the marking, so stop being stubborn.”
Stubbornness isn’t charming. At Siheon’s added remark, Cha Wonwoo sighed briefly and muttered reluctantly.
“Then take Yang with you.”
“You know I’m going to a shoot today. Foreign reporters might let it slide, but Korean ones will recognize Yang.”
“…Then I’ll assign another assistant, so don’t ditch them.”
Last night he was a beast, today a child. Understanding Cha Wonwoo’s alpha instinct to keep his trusted aide close, Siheon nodded. He wanted to avoid conflict for now. He was tired, needed time to think, and, most importantly, sex had lowered his psychological defenses.
Pheromone issues, Siheon’s promise of post-knotting sex—they both skillfully avoided necessary conversations, maintaining superficial peace.
Soon, a gray-haired doctor came to remove the IV. He left brief instructions in English: don’t overexert, stay hydrated, and sleep well—standard advice.
Siheon didn’t mention pheromone issues. Though not from the CH Foundation, he didn’t want to disclose his condition to someone tied to Cha Wonwoo through donations or otherwise.
“Where are my clothes?”
Right after the doctor left, Siheon asked. Recalling last night’s shirt torn off on the piano, he felt a flash of embarrassment but brazenly looked at Cha Wonwoo. He couldn’t wear it again anyway…
“Wait a sec.”
Glancing at Siheon, Cha Wonwoo brought new clothes, including underwear. Wondering if he’d contacted Kang San, Siheon noticed they were unfamiliar. Demanding an explanation with his eyes, Cha Wonwoo hesitated before starting with, “Just…”
“…I saw them passing by and thought they were nice, so I bought them.”
“Huh? You bought them yourself?”
Siheon, assuming Yang or someone else had been sent, asked in surprise. Cha Wonwoo nodded sulkily, as if annoyed. It wasn’t like he couldn’t buy them, so what was the big deal?
“Oh… thanks.”
When did he find time in his busy schedule? Was Cha Wonwoo’s day 48 hours long? Maybe living like that, ignoring suppressants, caused his rut to erupt.
Planning to drag Cha Wonwoo to a hospital upon returning to Korea, Siheon shed the robe and changed. His body was covered in mottled marks. When had he bitten so much? Thankfully, no marks were on visible areas—a small mercy. Should he praise Cha Wonwoo for avoiding conspicuous spots despite the frenzy?
Each step made Siheon’s hips and inner hole sting, but he hid the discomfort, embarrassed, and changed into pants. Cha Wonwoo’s gaze clung obsessively to every inch of his body. Ignoring it, Siheon picked up the syringe from the nightstand.
“I’ll handle this.”
As the syringe disappeared into Siheon’s pocket, Cha Wonwoo opened his mouth as if to speak but said nothing.
Opening the door, a long hallway stretched out. At its end was the open-plan living room from last night. Too frantic then to notice, Siheon now saw, in sober daylight, its jaw-dropping expanse. Was it 80 or 90 million won a night? Nearly 100 million, and it showed why.
The distance from the room to the living room was significant, with spaces branching off in all directions beyond the opposite hallway.
“Penthouse floor elevator needs a special key, right?”
“I have it. Let’s go.”
Thinking he’d just activate it and leave, Siheon was surprised when Cha Wonwoo naturally boarded the elevator. About to press the floor below, Siheon froze and asked.
“Where are you going?”
“Your room.”
Looking at Siheon as if the question was odd, Cha Wonwoo pressed the close button for him.
“To check if it’s properly sanitized. Oh, and move your stuff to my room.”
Just when Siheon thought he was acting normal, the lingering rut’s effects seemed to persist.
While Siheon stood dumbfounded, the elevator reached its destination and opened wide. Worried Siheon might get caught, Cha Wonwoo held the open button and nodded outside.
“You first.”
Is this… right…? Dazedly stepping out, Siheon was escorted to his room by Cha Wonwoo’s hand on his back.
Waiting for Kang San to open the door after ringing the bell, Siheon clutched the syringe in his pocket. He’d planned to dispose of it discreetly to avoid giving Cha Wonwoo false hopes, but now he was stuck.
“Hyung-nim!”
The door flung open with Kang San’s booming voice. Charging out like a bear, he stopped short, spotting the man standing protectively in front of Siheon.
“Director Cha, you came too?”
Kang San hadn’t noticed Sebastian’s pheromone antics or hidden motives yesterday. He only learned the truth after running into Yang, who was overseeing Siheon’s room sanitization. It was natural for him to be clueless—he was a beta.
But as Siheon’s manager, he felt guilty for failing to protect him. He’d vowed to apologize and stay by Siheon’s side, yet faced with Director Cha’s icy glare, he stepped aside without resistance.
“Come in.”
The living room buzzed with equipment and people.
“Oppa, good workout—oh!”
Subin, the stylist ironing clothes with a handheld steamer in the corner, started to greet but gasped.
Workout?
Oh… Siheon glanced at Kang San. He must have covered Siheon’s absence as a morning workout. Meeting his eyes, Kang San smiled awkwardly and headed to the Bluetooth speaker.
City Charts TOP 25. New York City.
The first song wasn’t Siheon’s taste. Usually preferring quiet, he stayed silent today. With the staff frozen at Cha Wonwoo’s presence, music was the only thing to ease the tension. As sound filled the vacuum-like silence, the staff exchanged glances and resumed their tasks.
Looking beside him, the cause of this atmosphere was distracted elsewhere.
“What are you doing?”
“Inspecting.”
Cha Wonwoo scanned the living room and people’s faces, then began opening every door. Not just glancing, he checked private bathrooms, sniffed with a serious expression, and rummaged through everything.
“You’re not a bloodhound.”
Muttering as he followed, Siheon watched Cha Wonwoo yank open a closet door and retort.
“Another bastard could be hiding.”
“Who’d sneak in here unless they’re insane?”
“Exactly. Not your average lunatic.”
What was there to see in an empty closet? Driven by some conviction, the still-rut-affected Cha Wonwoo searched relentlessly.
Terrace. Kitchen. Dining room. Three bedrooms, four bathrooms. Powder room. As if determined to find a hidden lover, he flung open every space. Failing to find the “not average lunatic,” Cha Wonwoo’s lips tightened.
Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, Siheon straightened.
“Done? Satisfied?”
Cha Wonwoo strode over and gripped Siheon’s shoulders.
“Did you hide someone?”
His sharp tone and pained frown.
This guy… Swallowing a laugh, Siheon pushed off the hands and flicked Cha Wonwoo’s forehead.
“Snap out of it.”
Without a sound of pain, Cha Wonwoo pursed his lips, scanning the room with discontent. Grabbing his cheeks to face him, Siheon said firmly.
“Cha Wonwoo, I was with you all night. Who would I hide, and why?”
“Yesterday…”
“Yeah, yesterday.”
“I saw.”
“Saw what? Talking about Sebastian?”
“No.”
His face contorted unpleasantly, Cha Wonwoo hesitated, lips twitching. Pulling his cheeks closer, Siheon met his eyes gently.
“It’s okay, tell me. I’ll listen, considering you’re not in your right mind.”
Staring at Siheon with sunken eyes, Cha Wonwoo dropped his head.
“It’s not clear, but another bastard was holding you.”
As if recalling it pained him, a groan-like sound came from deep in Cha Wonwoo’s throat. Still unsatisfied, he bit his lips hard.
What if he draws blood? Siheon quickly slipped his thumb between Cha Wonwoo’s dry lips and asked.
“Was it a dream?”
“I didn’t sleep.”
“…Huh?”
Cha Wonwoo gently bit Siheon’s thumb and answered with a muffled voice.
“I said I didn’t sleep.”
Meaning he hadn’t slept at all, so he couldn’t have dreamed. Staying up all night was concerning, but Siheon let it slide for now. If it wasn’t a dream, what did he see? Tilting his head, Siheon suddenly recalled what Cha Wonwoo had said last night, glaring at the mirror on the ceiling.
‘Fuck, no one my ass. There’s another bastard.’
No way.
“Just to be sure, the guy you said was holding me… was he naked?”
Careful not to hurt Siheon’s finger, Cha Wonwoo pushed it out with his lips, clenched his jaw so tightly the muscles twitched, and nodded.
“Yeah.”
Siheon touched his forehead.
That was you.
The absurd words caught in his throat. Smiling awkwardly, Siheon touched the forehead he’d flicked earlier and brushed back Cha Wonwoo’s hair.
“I’m sorry, hyung…”
The sudden apology made Cha Wonwoo raise an eyebrow. His suspicious glare was sharp. Siheon hurriedly explained.
“No, not that kind of misunderstanding. It’s been so long since your last rut, I forgot how out of it you get.”
Normally, during a heat cycle, instincts take over, and it’s like animalistic sex, but Cha Wonwoo, raised in a strict, controlled environment since childhood, seemed relatively composed during ruts. At least on the surface.
In reality, he didn’t completely lose his rationality. Unlike rumors online or from others, Siheon never felt sex with a rut-driven Cha Wonwoo was like ‘beastly mating.’ Once, he’d even thought about coaxing and reassuring Cha Wonwoo to see him fully lose control. Smiling lightly, Siheon said.
“Anyway, the guy you’re suspicious of isn’t here. Got it? If you’re anxious, check.”
Siheon tilted his neck to show his pheromone gland clearly.
“Confirm your mark.”
Cha Wonwoo’s prominent nose immediately buried itself behind Siheon’s ear. He pressed so hard his nose seemed to flatten, inhaling deeply.
“My scent.”
“Yeah, so snap out of it.”
Just as Cha Wonwoo’s breathing seemed to calm, it was fleeting. Even the mark couldn’t fully ease his anxiety, and he stormed into the living room to call Yang, insisting on moving all of Siheon’s belongings.
“Haa…”
The sigh Siheon let out was heavy, weighed by exhaustion.
Tired or not, he had things to handle.
Shaking his head to clear his mind, Siheon seized the moment while Cha Wonwoo was on the phone to call Kang San into the room. Perhaps because he was hypersensitive, Cha Wonwoo instantly sensed the presence and turned with a terrifying expression, visible through the door crack, but Siheon locked the door after saying, “Wait.”
“Hyung-nim, this secret meeting isn’t right. Director Cha will kill you? Or me!”
“Stop exaggerating.”
At that, Kang San ceased his exaggerated trembling, despite his large frame, and kept glancing at the door.
“Is Wonwoo that scary?”
“Come on, Hyung-nim, asking the obvious.”
Since meeting Cha Wonwoo, Siheon had found him annoyingly good-looking but never scary, so others’ reactions to him were intriguing.
Then, bang! Cha Wonwoo pounded the door as if to break it. “Hyung!” His voice outside sounded a bit frightening. Chuckling lightly, Siheon pulled the syringe from his pocket.
“Handle this for me when the time’s right.”
“This…”
“Yeah, morning-after pill.”
“Why do you…”
“Yesterday, Wonwoo suddenly went into rut.”
Kang San, taking the syringe, stared in shock. Through common education, betas learn about traited individuals’ heat cycles. As Siheon’s manager, a recessive omega, Kang San had studied thoroughly and knew the theory well.
An alpha’s rut. The man pounding the door like it might fall off, eyes crazed but still functioning, meant knotting had occurred.
Meeting his gaze, Siheon smiled awkwardly.
“They told us not to have sex, but… things happened.”
The morning-after pill for traited individuals is a self-injectable syringe that affects pheromones immediately. Siheon, under observation with a tracking chip due to unstable pheromone levels, didn’t know what might happen if he used it. It was questionable if his body could handle it. He’d planned to dispose of it quietly, but with Cha Wonwoo following him and likely to check even the trash, entrusting it to Kang San seemed better.
“Hyung-nim, should I keep it just in case? Or dispose of it?”
“Why keep it? I can’t get pregnant anyway, so just dispose of it.”
Bang. The door shook violently again. “Hyung!” Now Cha Wonwoo was calling him with raw fury.
Siheon added with a blank face.
“I can’t get pregnant anyway. Just get rid of it.”
Sharing a secret neither Cha Wonwoo nor CEO Heo knew, the two exchanged silent glances.
＊＊＊＊＊
The temporary makeup room in the living room was quite noisy. Amid the clamor of equipment and people, getting makeup done was chaotic.
Used to hectic settings, Siheon glanced at the situation behind him through the large makeup mirror. By behind, he meant Cha Wonwoo. The guy sat motionless, staring intently at him.
“Applying lip color.”
As the makeup artist lifted Siheon’s chin, Cha Wonwoo’s eyebrow shot up crookedly. His dynamic expressions felt like watching a play through the mirror.
Staring as if he’d devour someone, Cha Wonwoo was both a suffocating predator and a lonely outcast who didn’t blend in.
The guy who’d pounded the door like he’d break it had his assistants move all of Siheon’s belongings upstairs. Still unsatisfied, he sat in the center of the living room, radiating presence.
The staff, immersed in pretending not to notice a celebrity’s secret romance, ignored Cha Wonwoo. Better to stay silent than face questions about whether they hadn’t divorced or were reconciling.
More concerning was the GoPro on a tripod for vlog filming. Siheon confirmed it was angled to avoid capturing Cha Wonwoo, and editing could remove him if needed, but worry lingered. Sighing deeply, he glared at the camera.
“Haa… whatever.”
“Huh? Ticklish? Almost done.”
The brush tickling his cheeks moved away. As makeup finished, the hair stylist approached for final drying. Siheon entrusted his hair and closed his eyes. The hot air from the dryer made his throat dry.
“Kang San, water.”
Footsteps approached, but the scent hit first.
Siheon’s eyes snapped open. As expected, it wasn’t Kang San but Cha Wonwoo holding a water bottle, shaking it lightly to urge him to take it.
“Drink. And it’s not Kang San, it’s Lee Kang San.”
Reacting late, Siheon covered the GoPro lens with his palm.
“What are you doing! You’re on camera.”
“Let it show.”
He acted like it wasn’t an issue. Editing could filter it out, but a leak—accidental or intentional—was a worst-case scenario. Siheon turned off the camera and looked up at Cha Wonwoo.
“What are you doing? You said you were thirsty.”
He urged again, eyes sparkling as if expecting praise. Ex-husband, manager, or a dog wagging its tail with a toy? Siheon looked at the water bottle with mixed feelings and shook his head.
“Not this. Drinking like this will ruin my lip color.”
“Hyung-nim, here.”
Quick-witted Kang San approached with a straw-inserted bottle. But before Siheon could reach it, Cha Wonwoo blocked him with his large frame, speaking politely in front of others.
“It’s from the table setup. How can you trust it?”
“Trust what? It’s set up by Lee Kang San, not just anyone.”
“Manager.”
“What.”
“Manager.”
“…Fine, the manager set it up.”
Calling him as requested, but Cha Wonwoo didn’t budge.
Ugh, so stubborn.
Reluctantly, Siheon took the bottle Cha Wonwoo offered, drinking carefully to avoid smudging his lips. Gulp. His Adam’s apple rose and fell noticeably with each swallow.
Stopping halfway, Cha Wonwoo took the bottle and returned to his seat.
Meanwhile, despite the awkwardness of being caught between them, the hair stylist steadfastly finished, tapping Siheon’s shoulder to signal completion.
Standing, Subin brought a rack. Three pre-fitted coats, chosen for weather and context, hung side by side. Siheon picked a black biker jacket. Subin chattered excitedly.
“Oppa, I was thinking, a choker would look better than a necklace with this.”
The jacket screamed freedom, ready to race off, so a choker would add a dangerous, restrained edge—that was the idea.
“The concept is rebellion and restraint. What do you think?”
“Sure, do what you want.”
Siheon wasn’t clueless about fashion, but in these settings, he trusted professionals. As he bent to let the petite Subin fasten the choker, he caught Cha Wonwoo standing abruptly in his peripheral vision. Of course, he wouldn’t miss this. Siheon quickly raised a hand.
“Cha Wonwoo, sit.”
His eyebrows shot up in discontent. But with Siheon’s palm still raised, he had no choice and sat back down.
“Oppa, all done.”
“Thanks for the hard work.”
Thanks to Subin’s quick hands, Siheon avoided Cha Wonwoo volunteering as both manager and stylist.
Straightening, Siheon checked his outfit in the mirror. The hair stylist had cleverly covered the marked pheromone gland, and the clothes weren’t too revealing. The choker felt slightly tight, but finding no major issues, Siheon nodded in satisfaction.
At the nod, like a final confirmation, Subin gave a thumbs-up and scurried off with the remaining clothes.
Should he take SNS photos now? A couple of hours after styling looked more natural, but there’d be no time at the venue.
Ignoring Cha Wonwoo, who was fidgeting as if waiting for a chance to approach, Siheon was about to check if there was time before leaving.
Rustling sounds came from the hallway, and a man in a deeply pulled cap, holding a camera, walked in. Meeting Siheon’s eyes, he lifted and lowered his cap, greeting in a listless voice.
“Hola.”
The pale, low-spirited man was none other than Sebastian. The moment he appeared, Cha Wonwoo’s unrestrained pheromones thickened, heavily pressing the air.
Fierce and rough.
“…!”
Before Siheon could intervene, Cha Wonwoo sprang up and grabbed Sebastian’s collar in a flash. His grip, merciless as if to choke, made veins bulge on his hand. A voice, suppressing condensed rage, scraped through his vocal cords.
“A sex offender like you dares show up here.”
The voice, barely audible to Sebastian, was low and menacing, holding back wildly surging emotions.
The sudden situation froze the surrounding air. Unaware staff watched in silence. A suffocating stillness followed, where even a pin drop could be heard.
Deciding indirect handling was better than stepping in directly, Siheon subtly signaled Kang San.
‘Okay.’
Mouthing and gesturing, Kang San clapped to divert attention.
“Come on, everyone, we’re short on time. Let’s get ready to leave!”
Hinting to ignore the scene, the staff quickened their packing. Kang San discreetly pointed outside, signaling he’d fetch Yang.
Nodding and watching him slip out, Siheon adjusted his appearance and approached the source of the chaos.
Sebastian, struggling with his heels off the ground under the iron grip, sent a pleading look for help.
Cha Wonwoo’s gaze followed Sebastian’s. Confirming Siheon at the end, his face twisted fiercely. Releasing even more violent pheromones, he said.
“I thought the doctor made that clear.”
Humiliated, Sebastian’s face flushed as he replied in a small voice.
“Sólo…, just here to work. Sorry about yesterday.”
“Work? Sorry? You were officially fired. If your pathetic apology was sincere, you wouldn’t be here. Show up again, and I’ll—”
Yanking the collar closer, Cha Wonwoo growled lowly.
“This time, I’ll settle it personally.”
Before finishing, he shoved Sebastian into a nearby room with brute force. Siheon quickly followed, closing the door.
In that moment, Cha Wonwoo slammed Sebastian against the wall, twisting his arm to prevent resistance and grabbing his hair. The man’s face paled, sensing what was coming.
“Ugh!”
Despite fierce struggling, Cha Wonwoo’s face remained coldly composed as he fully opened his pheromone glands.
If there was a pheromone shower filled with affection for a loved one, there was also one meant to humiliate and force submission on another traited individual.
Cha Wonwoo’s act was the latter. Controlling it to avoid affecting Siheon, he ruthlessly doused Sebastian with pheromones, as if to crush him.
Submission or domination.
A brutal act driven purely by alpha instinct continued. For an alpha, being steeped in another’s pheromones like this was worse than a fistfight.
But for Cha Wonwoo, raised in a strict environment since childhood, this was the extent of his violence. Even if it wasn’t, he didn’t want to show Siheon anything worse. He had to suppress the alpha instinct to destroy a rival’s pheromone gland entirely. His jaw muscles twitched as he ground his teeth harshly.
Then, Siheon called him gently.
“Wonwoo.”
Watching quietly to avoid provoking him further, Siheon sensed Cha Wonwoo restraining himself and chose the right moment to step in.
“Let him go, and let’s talk. I’ll hit him instead. If you do everything, what’s left for me, hyung?”
Words alone seemed insufficient. To soothe the hypersensitive alpha, Siheon began releasing his pheromones gently, now somewhat controllable post-sex. Sensing his omega’s pheromones, Cha Wonwoo’s alpha pheromones softened, making way.
Releasing his clenched teeth, Cha Wonwoo tilted his head back, steadying his ragged breathing.
“Hoo…”
Calming his breath, he reluctantly let Sebastian go, enveloped by Siheon’s pheromones. The man collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, coughing with bloodshot eyes.
Cha Wonwoo’s anger was understandable.
Siheon hadn’t sensed another alpha’s pheromones, so last night didn’t escalate. But if he had? He wouldn’t have let himself be alone with Sebastian, but if last night’s situation had happened anyway? He might have been unable to resist, even penetrated. It only ended lightly because Siheon couldn’t sense other alpha pheromones.
If Sebastian had left promptly when Siheon expressed disinterest, he wouldn’t have crossed paths with Cha Wonwoo. But his talk of liking force and enjoying it without pheromones led to this mess.
Feeling an indescribable mood, Siheon looked down at the collapsed man when a booming voice came from beyond the door.
“Hyung-nim, I brought Yang!”
Perfect timing.
Opening the door, Yang stood beside Kang San with a stiff expression. His tie, neat earlier when moving Siheon’s things, was slightly askew from rushing. He bowed to Siheon before entering with tense steps. Likely briefed on the way, his nervous voice immediately apologized.
“Director, I’m sorry. There was a mistake in handling the matter.”
The Cha Wonwoo Yang knew differed from Siheon’s. Yang’s Cha Wonwoo was the CH Group’s heir, while Siheon’s was a man flustered by love.
The lovesick Cha Wonwoo patiently tolerated his husband’s mistakes, but the CH Group heir saw excuses as a waste of time. Knowing this, Yang admitted the error without airing grievances.
“The firing notice wasn’t properly conveyed. I just confirmed the original photographer is off this project.”
Listening, Cha Wonwoo maintained a cold demeanor without comment. Yang naturally turned to Siheon to continue.
“The new photographer will head straight to the venue. We’ll cross-check with Manager Lee Kang San to ensure no delays in Actor Kang’s schedule.”
“Thank you. Honestly, the company or I should’ve complained directly, but you’ve worked hard in the middle.”
As Siheon politely thanked him, Cha Wonwoo cut in before Yang could respond.
“Yang.”
“Yes, Director.”
“Take him out.”
He nodded toward the exhausted Sebastian, collapsed on the floor. Not unconscious or fainted, but unable to steady himself from the pheromone shower’s shock.
“Yes, I’ll handle it.”
Supported by Yang, Sebastian’s trembling fingertips betrayed his struggle with humiliation. Cha Wonwoo watched the defeated alpha’s pitiful exit until they disappeared around the corner before speaking.
“Close the door.”
A command, but in a pleading tone. Sighing inaudibly, Siheon asked Kang San, who was anxiously pacing near the door.
“How much time left?”
“About 15 minutes, but…”
Are you okay? The concerned question came through his eyes, not words.
“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry, look after the staff.”
Whispering softly, Siheon closed the door.
Click.
As the door shut, Cha Wonwoo ran a hand down his face and sank onto the bed. His heavy exhale carried weight.
“Haa…”
Standing at a distance, Siheon leaned against the closed door, arms crossed. Head lowered, he weighed his options. Rather than rushing to comfort, giving Cha Wonwoo time to cool off seemed right. He wasn’t a child—he ran a company. He could handle these emotions alone…
“Sorry.”
An apology dropped from above. Looking up, Cha Wonwoo was already inches away. Uncrossing his arms, Siheon straightened.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For showing you that side earlier, and for what I’m about to do.”
“What you’re about to do?”
Siheon’s brow furrowed, his face shadowed. Before he could react, Cha Wonwoo’s hazy eyes closed in, and his lower lip was bitten sharply.
“Ugh!”
Siheon reflexively covered his mouth. Too shocked to do more than stare. Not a dog, and now he’s biting lips? This is absurd.
“Move your hand.”
Cha Wonwoo, unfazed, casually pushed Siheon’s hand aside and pressed his thumb against Siheon’s lower lip, rubbing slowly.
“Your lip color’s gone.”
“You just wiped it off.”
“Since it’s gone, I can do what I want, right?”
It wasn’t a question but a declaration. Stepping closer, his sturdy thigh slid between Siheon’s legs. With no room to retreat, Siheon’s back hit the door. “Ah,” his lips parted, and warmth descended. Contrary to expecting a hot tongue, Cha Wonwoo leaned in, stopping where their lips barely brushed.
“If you don’t like it,”
After saying he’d do as he pleased.
“Bite my tongue.”
Not wanting to force intimacy, he offered Siheon a final defense. It was oddly endearing.
“Until then, I’ll do what I want.”
Tilting his head, Cha Wonwoo pulled Siheon’s neck closer, plunging his tongue deeper.
“Mmm…”
The tongue, fully inside, grazed the palate. Unlike his rough pheromones, the movement was ticklish. But not entirely gentle. Whenever their lips threatened to part, his tongue, hot as a fireball, chased persistently, as if demanding Siheon breathe only his air.
When to breathe, how much—it was all under Cha Wonwoo’s control. Even inhaling through his nose wasn’t enough. His oxygen-deprived head grew hazy, and he began panting quickly.
Instead of biting, Siheon hooked both hands around Cha Wonwoo’s neck, higher than his shoulders. As the kiss deepened, their pheromones blended more thickly.
Fifteen minutes. How much of the time Kang San mentioned had passed?
Cha Wonwoo, focused on their entwined pheromones and tongues, pulled back. He kissed Siheon’s lips lightly to clean the lingering saliva and knelt.
“What are you doing?”
Following his gaze downward, Siheon pretended not to notice their bulging centers. Not fully erect yet. This level could be calmed by recalling the first note of a tough project’s OST.
“I said I’d do what I want.”
Was he aroused or angry? If angry, at whom? Hiding his expression, Cha Wonwoo knelt fully between Siheon’s legs.
Looking up, he caught the zipper with his front teeth and pulled it down. The sound of the parting teeth alone made Siheon’s core heavier. As excitement built to a taut peak, his breathing quickened, knees weakened, and inner thighs trembled in anticipation.
With the zipper fully down, the outline of his erect cock showed through the black underwear. Hot breath poured over it. Pressing lips or rolling a tongue would slowly make it rise fully. Leaning his head against the door, eyes half-closed, anticipating the sensation, Siheon felt Cha Wonwoo hesitate.
“What’s this?”
His trembling voice and shocked eyes held disbelief. Opening his half-closed eyes, Siheon, breathing heavily from arousal, asked.
“What?”
“This, this…”
What’s wrong with him?
Blinking to clear his aroused haze, Siheon realized where Cha Wonwoo’s hand was and sighed. His fingers were tracing the string barely covering the cleft, past the bare skin of Siheon’s hips.
“Dance belt.”
A ballet dancer’s thong, he added briefly.
The front of a dance belt resembled regular underwear, but the back was a string. Commonly worn for performances, male celebrities also used them for outfits needing a defined silhouette.
It wasn’t identical to a dancer’s dance belt. It lacked extra fabric or thick pads for protection, and the waistband wasn’t particularly wide.
Focused on appearance under outer clothing rather than mobility, it was thin, barely a hand’s width, and looked quite provocative when removed.
Cha Wonwoo knew what a ‘dance belt’ and ‘thong’ were.
But knowing, understanding, seeing it on someone, and that someone being the man he loved were different matters. The shock of these separate concepts connecting, hitting him visually and tactilely, was intense.
Speechless, fumbling with the string, Cha Wonwoo left Siheon smiling awkwardly.
“I’ve worn these before.”
“I didn’t know.”
Still kneeling, Cha Wonwoo lifted his chin, biting his lips. His mumbled “Why didn’t I know?” carried a sense of injustice.
“There wasn’t a reason to wear it in front of you.”
“Still, something like this…”
Cha Wonwoo’s chest swelled with a deep breath and sank.
“You really know how to drive people crazy.”
His long fingers, always tempting to suck, moved busily. Carefully tracing the cleft and around the hole to avoid breaking the thin string, his hand pulled away. Tugging up the fallen pants and zipping them neatly, Siheon let out an involuntary disappointed sound.
“Not doing it?”
He’d been willing to let Cha Wonwoo go down to calm his anger.
“Hyung.”
Standing on one knee, Cha Wonwoo contained his surging arousal in his dark eyes and said.
“You’re wearing that right now, haa… you think I’d stop at just taking it off? Even if I did, one round wouldn’t be enough.”
Thanks to the shocking underwear, Cha Wonwoo’s volatile pheromones stabilized somewhat. Not calm waters, but manageable waves.
Perhaps a bit sulky, like a child whose candy was taken, he pressed his lips mischievously to Siheon’s choker-bound neck. The falling hair tickled as he pressed. Siheon gently stroked Cha Wonwoo’s tangled hair, whispering.
“No marks.”
Silently lifting his face, Cha Wonwoo, like a rebel, bit Siheon’s lower lip again. Controlled to avoid pain, but being bitten by the same person was baffling.
Is he a dog or what? If there were an alpha behavior correction center like a dog training school, Siheon would send him. They say firmness is key in such cases. Not sure if dog training applies to people, but…
“Cha Wonwoo, you keep—”
Recalling a TV show to warn him, an interrupting sound came from behind, perfectly timed for someone.
Knock, knock, knock.
A precise, timid knock was followed by Kang San’s voice.
“Hyung-nim, uh… 15 minutes are almost up. Can you come out?”
Oh, already?
“Got it. I’ll be right—mmph!”
One syllable. Before ‘out’ finished, Cha Wonwoo grabbed Siheon’s chin, tilted his head, and kissed him. Caught off guard by the intrusive tongue, Siheon froze as Cha Wonwoo rubbed it brazenly.
To protest, Siheon kept his eyes open, grabbed the round head, and pushed it away. Strength difference made it tough. No choice left. Hoping not to hurt him, Siheon bit Cha Wonwoo’s tongue with his front teeth.
True to his own boundary, Cha Wonwoo pulled back instantly, rolling his tingling tongue and wiping his lips—quite sexy, but there was no time to admire. Siheon shot a warning glance for the unfinished reprimand and opened the door.
“Hyup! Hyung-nim, you’re alive?”
“Alive, obviously.”
Having let out an ‘mmph,’ Kang San could guess what happened in that short time. His face, red from cheeks to forehead, managed an awkward smile.
“Hahaha, good to know, Hyung-nim.”
“I said I’d handle it.”
Technically, the underwear did the heavy lifting, but Siheon played it off casually. Before Kang San could say more, he took the lead nonchalantly.
“I need to fix my lip color.”