buck 🦴

“Are you ready for tonight?”

Wooyoung startled from his seat, head snapping up to look in the direction of where the voice had come from. Euijoo stood in the doorway to the breakroom, hands on his hips, and a knowing smirk gracing his face.

Wooyoung, once he knew it wasn't some crazy customer who had snuck into the back, returned his excitement. "When am I ever not ready?" This was the highlight of the month.

Both of them had been attending... car shows... for the last year together. And while the special meets (that always left Wooyoung with an empty wallet) weren't all that frequent, he had grown restless with the anticipation.

Because he knew someone would be there.

Waiting for him.

The driver of the sexy Porsche 911 Turbo.

The omega's scent spiked just at the thought of it.

San, as he had come to know his real name after meeting three, was an alpha from Korea. Wooyoung had been born in the same country as him and was surprised to see another Korean (besides EJ) at the first meet he had gone to in Shibuya.

Just like his ride, San was just as alluring and attractive.

"When are you going to ask him out, anyway?" Euijoo seemed to have read Wooyoung's mind, plopping down at the round table where he was spending his break scrolling through social media. "He's attractive," The other omega's voice dropped to a teasing tone, honeyed scent turning a little softer. "And nice. You could use a nice alpha for once, hyung."

Wooyoung immediately threw his head back and groaned. "Don't remind me." He never wanted to think of that selfish prick again, much less picture his grimy face.

Noticing his scent starting to sour, Euijoo left that part of the conversation out. "Just ask him out tonight, hyung. He won't say no." That much was true.

After a year of attending the car meets and seeing San at every one of them, the alpha did nothing but follow Wooyoung around during them. It was cute. San was like a lost puppy, hot on his tail every time the omega would walk along the line to look at other cars that weren't his. San would pout at him, jealousy clearly rolling off of him in waves when Wooyoung would compliment another person's vehicle.

Rolling his shoulders, Wooyoung decided that he'd dress extra extravagantly for someone special tonight.

Walking hand-in-hand with the other omega, Wooyoung felt a chill run down his spine from the rattle of multiple cut exhausts in the parking lot.

Cutting his eyes to the side, he heard someone revving their engine— once, twice, three times— until it caught his attention. Wooyoung saw the driver peering at him through the windshield, a small, tempting smirk on the (clearly) beta's face that tried to get him to come over to his Subaru WRX.

Wooyoung knew he looked good.

A black, mesh bodysuit sat tightly against his chest, mostly covered by a hip-cut leather jacket. Tiny, black denim shorts that clung to his thighs, black two-inch heeled boots, and a pair of colorful Hello Kitty socks hidden underneath them.

But Wooyoung wasn't here for the Subaru. He was here for the Porsche.

The omega continued to walk the strip, not paying the, now scowling beta, any more attention as he and Euijoo took a peek at the rest of the cars.

Then, suddenly, the omega's hand slipped from his. "There he is!" Euijoo tried not to seem too excited, but a wide grin stretched his lips as he saw an army green Mazda sitting by one of the lamp posts.

Wooyoung's scent of lilies and vanilla spiked a little as he caught a glimpse of the car beside it.

It was a 2026 McLaren 625 GT2, the wrap fresh and looking recently done— an off-white color with black stretching from the middle of the hood to the trunk. White rims with LED lights underneath the fenders. A double spoiler sitting on the back, dual exhausts-.

She might beat the love Wooyoung had for the Porsche.

Just as Euijoo split to greet Fuma, and Wooyoung walked closer to the beautiful car to greet the owner, someone was popping the driver's side scissor door open.

San was grinning at him.

"Like it?" His voice was a little raspy, like he had been exhausted from the day but had still shown up to the car meet— for Wooyoung. "I just got her."

Oh. Wooyoung more than liked it.

Over time, San had brought other cars from his personal collection to the meets. None had been sexier than the Porsche until he had seen this beast of metal.

His scent spiked again, enough to catch San's curious, twitching nose.

He needed to be in that car. Now. With San.

"Cute jeans," Wooyoung's eyes trailed to his ass when he turned around to close the door, seeing delicate flowers stitched into the dark-wash pockets with a white vine trailing up the left pant leg. "Wanna take mine off me?"

Wooyoung couldn't take it anymore. He was going weak in the knees by the second the more that he looked at the sight of both the McLaren and San— the way he leaned up against the door, arms crossed over his tight-fitting tank top-.

The alpha looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. Like he clearly hadn't heard what Wooyoung had said. "... what?" And despite playing dumb, or maybe confused, San's scent had turned sharp— the smell of oranges and sandalwood lacing with clear interest.

"Why don't you take me for a ride in it?"

He had seen from the outside perspective how hard San pushed his babies, how he didn't care if they got dents in them or if he full-on crashed into another car going down the strip after the bets had started— because he had enough money to fix them the next day.

He wondered if San would ditch the innocent act and push him that hard, too.

"I think you know what this is. Don't you want me in one of your sexy cars, alpha?"

The alpha gulped thickly, watching as Wooyoung sauntered over to him— hips swaying, scent enticing. He couldn't say no. He had literally dreamed of this exact thing happening for months.

San nodded, rounding the McLaren and swinging the passenger door open, holding it up in a clear invitation for Wooyoung to hop in.

The omega slid inside without a second thought, ducking his head so he didn't hit it on the frame due to how low the car was sitting. The leather of the bucket seats stuck to the back of his thighs, but he enjoyed the feeling of the rich, expensive fabric as the door shut.

He enjoyed the sight even more when San slid in beside him.

"You ready?"

Wooyoung didn't hesitate, offering a quick jerk of his head before he buckled up. San turned the key in the ignition, the hum of the engine vibrating the floor beneath their feet.

Fuck the races. Wooyoung would be much happier with a joyride with the alpha that had been chasing after him for months.

Wooyoung's hands trembled in San's hair, tugging at the roots— to pull him closer, to push him away? He didn't know. He couldn't think past the clogging scent of San filling the stuffy car, past the pleasure his rolling tongue brought.

He looked up at the omega through his lashes, knees biting into the carpet of the passenger side, and big hands digging into Wooyoung's smooth thighs— the seat having been pushed all the way back and reclined as soon as San had pulled over to an isolated side of a mountain trail.

He was getting lost in Wooyoung's own tooth-aching smell, in the taste of his slick. San's nose brushed his mound, huffing in sharp breaths but refusing to pull away. He ate Wooyoung out like he was starving, drinking down any droplets of the omega's pleasure like he had grown addicted to the taste.

And maybe he had. Every time Wooyoung's hips jerked away from the tight suction of his mouth around his clit, San growled and pulled him back; tongue dipping down to his leaking hole back to his pulsing clit.

"Oh, fuck," Wooyoung suddenly gasped, back arching off the leather seats and hands desperately grasping at the black strands of the alpha's hair. "Wait, fuck-!"

San flinched back a little, feeling his face grow increasingly wet— Wooyoung's slick trickled down his chin, soaking the white tank-top that had been ridden up to his stomach. His pupils dilated, instantly diving forward and sticking his tongue out to lap up the watery liquid.

Wooyoung trembled in sensitivity, thighs closing to clap around the alpha’s head, more slick gushing out to soak San’s honeyed skin as he circled his tongue around his clit.

He didn’t stop until Wooyoung roughly tugged his head back by his hair. “Get in the seat.” San’s eyes looked hazy, like he had gotten completely drunk off of whatever Wooyoung had to offer him. Licking his lips to taste the last of him, San followed his instructions.

It was a little difficult trying to climb over each other to switch positions, but Wooyoung eventually found his mouth wrapped around San’s leaking cock. He looked like he nearly pushed himself over the edge from eating Wooyoung out alone, and it sent a pleasant shiver down the omega’s spine.

San let out a shaky sigh through his nose, thumb brushing over Wooyoung’s bulging cheek before tugging weakly at his hair. He knew this wasn’t an act to excite him, but it had his cock twitching in Wooyoung’s drooling mouth, anyway.

He couldn’t enjoy the wet heat of it for much longer before Wooyoung was pulling off, climbing into his lap and caging his thighs between his own. San nearly lost his mind when he felt Wooyoung roll his hips forward, pressing his cock against his slick folds to coat him in more lubricant so it wasn’t so hard for Wooyoung to take him.

San’s hips rolled forward in response, the tip knocking against the omega’s hole and rubbing up against his over-sensitive clit.

Seonghwa’s eyes casted over the sea of bodies pressed against each other in Club Fantasy. The room was filled with scents that ranged from excitement to anger at someone who bumped into them, and Seonghwa could feel the bass of the speakers booming under his nice dress shoes.

This wasn’t his first time being here.

In fact, Seonghwa had frequented the club every weekend. It wasn’t because he was a heavy drinker who liked the atmosphere, god no, he could barely handle a glass of wine before he started feeling hot.

It was because of Kim Hongjoong— or NO1, as a lot of these people knew him as.

They had never even gotten close to the man to be able to be trusted with him real name, but Seonghwa had.

Who knew sucking someone’s dick in exchange for them playing your song got you past someone’s persona?

He felt out of place, like he stuck out like a sore thumb even with the amount of people here in the club. He wasn’t dressed for that, no. He looked like he was going to a meeting, black suit, tie, and all.

He had barely clocked out of his day job before he was rushing to Fantasy at ten at night, hard drive stuffed hastily in his jacket before he was stuffing himself back inside his 2023 mustang.

Mingi would have chewed his head off if he knew how hard Seonghwa was pushing his girl, but he was just too impatient to slow down. The mechanic had told him plenty of times that he may blow the transmission, and he’d be spending every penny he made to go towards his recording equipment to fix her.

He had told San the same thing when he had rolled up to the shop with his beautiful Mazda, that he had just gotten tuned up last week, scrunched up like a tin can and barely making it through the doors before she quit on him. Those races would make him go broke before he entered his thirties, fixing up his beautiful imported cars only to get t-boned by a more expensive and gorgeous car.

Even if Seonghwa had been in this clubs too many times to count, he still got nervous as he went deeper into the sea of bodies. Some omegas tried to stop him on the way, hands lingering on his suit-clad arm, but Seonghwa was only focused on one thing.

It was stupid. It was so fucking stupid.

Wooyoung had warned him as a new artist that omegas would be pounding at his door, begging for a night with him in hopes they’d get a taste of fame that hadn’t came yet.

He had it happen before, plenty of times.

After Hongjoong’s set ended, after Seonghwa had drank too much and fell for the praise of the omegas that approached him— told him that they loved his music, that they wished they could hear more— and he’d always fall for it and bring them back to his house.

They’d stay for a little while, text him every day after the night they’d spend together and go out on dates— which he paid for. But when they realized that Seonghwa only had ten thousand followers on Instagram, and that his money came from his day job as a receptionist at a huge company instead of from his royalties on his music, they’d tuck their tails and run.

Wooyoung would be severely disappointed in him if he saw him now, if he realized what their arrangement was.

But, one lopsided grin from the omega DJ who leaned up against the wall to the bathrooms (almost like he had been waiting for him all night), and Seonghwa knew that he would do anything to be on his list.

Hongjoong let out a keening whine, his hands fisted in Seonghwa’s once neatly slicked-back hair. To pull him closer, or to stop the overwhelmed heat that enveloped him, he wasn’t sure.

“Fuck…” He hissed and arched his back off the wall, pushing further into the warm cavern of Seonghwa’s mouth until he had to pull back to stop himself from gagging. Just because he was an omega didn’t mean he was lacking anywhere, certainly not in the downstairs department.

Seonghwa looked up at him through his bangs, tightening his grip on the omega’s thighs. He didn’t respond to his words, knew better not to. This was purely transactional, there was no going any further than this— they couldn’t, because Hongjoong wouldn’t let him.

They had been doing this for months, the younger man always dragging him off into the bathroom before his set and making him get down on his knees for the omega. He’d sometimes give Seonghwa a hand-job after, but that was as much as he got. His reward was his songs being played in Hongjoong’s set, three in a row if the omega was feeling extra nice that night.

There would never be any gentle kisses after, no praise that Seonghwa ached for. No scenting, even if his alpha ached for it and even whined to Hongjoong about leaving him with at least something that had his smell on it. Rules, rules, rules-.

“Enough,” Hongjoong panted, pulling Seonghwa’s head back with a fist full of his once kept locks. The alpha pulled off with a wet pop, a look of confusion on his face. Was he not doing good enough? Hongjoong’s sweet caramel and chocolate scent floated around the cramped room, enough to suffocate him, so he didn’t think it was that-. “Get up. I want you to fuck me.”

Seonghwa looked like a fish out of water at his words. What? Since when was that an option? Before he could ask any questions out loud, Hongjoong was turning around and working his light-wash skinny jeans down to his mid thighs, slick damp underwear next.

The alpha nearly salivated at the sight of the thin liquid dripping from his cunt to his inner thighs, something he always got to see but never got to touch. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries.

Seonghwa didn’t waste a minute before he was standing up from his kneeling position, popping open the button of his slacks and impatiently shoving his thumbs into the waistband. Hongjoong surely would laugh at him, but he bent over the sink instead.

Presenting.

Fuck, Seonghwa was going to lose his god damn mind before he even got to be inside of him.

“Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Hongjoong growled, but it was more of a purr in his own opinion. Hongjoong would never change his mind, he knew that. These feelings he had for the alpha who so desperately wanted his music out there would never change. What was so wrong in seeing if he was actually good at other things than sucking his dick and making music?

Seonghwa worked his own pants and underwear down to his thighs, standing behind the omega and placing a firm but gentle hand on the dip of his spine.

He nearly howled in regret when Seonghwa started to push in. He was fucking huge. Hongjoong had known that since he first gave the alpha a weak hand-job in return for making him cum two times in a row just from his mouth. Maybe it was because he hadn’t ever let anyone fuck his cunt before. But his omega eased him open, letting the lulling scent of an odd mixture of cherries and mahogany relax him.

Seonghwa started off slow, pumping his hips forward in a gentle pace to let Hongjoong get use to him. But he didn’t want slow, he didn’t want gentle. “I’m not going to break,” Hongjoong scoffed, rising up on his toes a bit so he could shift the angle; chest pressed into the uncomfortable porcelain and digging into his ribs. “You fuck like an omega. Might as well go find one to satisfy me-.”

He couldn’t finish his sentence before Seonghwa snapped his hips forward, pushing his face up against the glass of the mirror. Hongjoong let out a loud moan, not bothering to hide the sound due to the loud bass of the music outside thumping— covering up mostly everything that was happening inside of the dingy bathroom.

Seonghwa drove his hips forward, bumping up against his g-spot every time he did with a low groan. “You’re such a brat. Makes me wonder if you’re like this with everyone else, too.” He nipped at Hongjoong’s scruff, and it immediately had an effect on him. He went limp for a second, his scent somehow getting sweeter and his moans getting more high pitched.

He really hadn’t meant to, it was purely his instincts that drove him to do so, but the reaction he got out of him made him want to do it over and over again.

”’m not.” Hongjoong panted out, shaking his head to either get rid of the cloud hanging over it or to get the scent of the alpha out of his mind. Fuck, it was so hard to concentrate with him being so close— closer than ever.

Bad idea. Such a big, fucking mistake. Yunho was surely cussing him out half way across town for falling into the clutches of another alpha again, but Hongjoong didn’t care.

All he cared about was more, more. More of Seonghwa, more of his scent that he could practically taste on the tip of his tongue.

It was never supposed to be this way. Hongjoong was never supposed to feel anything for the shy alpha who approached him on a random Friday asking to play one of his tracks at Club Fantasy.

He was never supposed to be this close, either. But he felt his stomach coiling, his toes curling inside his new Converse gifted by Jongho for Christmas. He shouldn’t have craned his neck, shouldn’t have arched his back to present himself to a fucking alpha.

But it had happened. He was trembling under Seonghwa’s hold before he knew it, his thighs clenching and shaking to the point he was scared he was going to fall from the force of it all.

His release had been so powerful that he hadn’t noticed a bite mark blooming on his mating gland, Seonghwa’s knot just seconds away from pushing inside and leaving a permanent mark that he’d never be able to get rid of.

Instead of fear, all Hongjoong felt was want. “Please, alpha.” He whined, his breath fogging up the mirror he was pressed up against. He felt so sticky, so dirty, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was that permanent mark that bound them for life. “Want your- your knot, please.”

Hongjoong got what he wished for, always have. He was a spoiled brat at heart.

His omega keened in excitement when he felt Seonghwa swell inside, felt his hips moving so fast that he was convinced his ass would be bruised the next morning. He nearly let out a scream when Seonghwa pushed inside of him fully, his knot locking them together.

He got his permanent mark.

And when the fog of his instincts cleared, fuck, it was terrifying seeing the mark on his mating gland— of being unable to pull off of Seonghwa after three minutes of being stuck together.