Chapter Text
It’s a vivid dream.
A very vivid, very lucid dream.
That is the most plausible explanation Jisung can come up with as to why he’s currently stuck on a stranger’s knot.
But, he supposes, stranger doesn’t suit the alpha in this bed very well. He doesn’t know the basics like his name or his age, but they—apparently—spent the entire night together. Jisung can remember laying eyes on him in the club, and gathering the courage to go up and speak to him, but everything after that feels like he’s watching a movie of his own point-of-view. It was like the moment their eyes met, every reckless urge Jisung had fought so hard to suppress over the years came bubbling up to the surface without a second thought and suddenly they were in a bedroom, with the alpha bending him over the bed.
It’s so far from Jisung’s behavior in the past twenty-five years that he can hardly believe it, even with the play-by-play swimming through his brain. But when he tries to scoot away, to remove himself from this alpha and wake himself up from whatever the hell is going on, he feels a distinct tug at his lower half that keeps his hips in place. He doesn’t even get the chance to properly panic at the realization because an arm drapes across his waist and pulls him back until he’s secured against a warm, broad chest.
A kiss is pressed to the back of Jisung’s head, sending shivers up his spine. “Where do you think you’re going, omega?” the alpha drawls, voice gruff from sleep, before he begins promptly trailing his lips to Jisung’s ear, then his neck, inch by inch until he gets dangerously close to his scent gland.
Jisung covers the spot on instinct, putting as much space between the two of them as he can with the knot lodged inside of himself. He hears a sharp hiss come from the alpha’s own mouth and internally pats himself on the back. He prepares to demand that the unknown alpha not put his teeth anywhere near his neck again, but the previously smooth skin he so carefully applied scent-blockers to last night is suddenly the home to small indentations.
Teeth marks.
He presses enough that it stings, and then he presses even harder, just to be sure—
This is real.
“You bit me,” Jisung spits.
“Huh?”
Jisung removes his hand angrily—there’s no point in trying to protect it now, after all—and shoves his shoulder back toward what he hopes is the alpha’s face. “You bit me.”
There’s no words, only heavy breathing brushing against his neck. He feels his omega preen, undoubtedly trying to claw its way out, but he nails the door shut before it has the chance. Stupid hormones, stupid mark, stupid alpha.
“Wow,” is the ever-so-eloquent response he gets.
Jisung sighs. “That’s all you have to say? You knotted me, you marked me—a complete stranger!”
“Oh,” the alpha mumbles, suddenly sounding more alert, as if he hadn’t realized the predicament their lower halves were in. “Do you think it took?”
Jisung scoffs. “Of course it took, you bit me.”
Honestly. This is part of the basics of sex-ed—without the use of contraceptives, placing a mating mark while knotting results in pregnancy an astounding ninety-nine percent of the time for pairs with healthy, functioning reproductive organs. In the past, it was their biology’s way of assuring their bloodlines carry on, but in modern times, it serves more as a preventative method that keeps accidental matings low.
It’s supposed to, at least.
Judging by the fact that the knot is still securely in place despite the two of them having been asleep for who knows how long, there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s been filled with enough cum to ensure that he’s… fertilized.
“I don’t even know your name,” Jisung notes in alarm.
“It’s Minho,” the alpha explains simply, like that fixes everything. “Can you calm down? We need to talk, but you’re kind of driving me crazy with all the panicking.”
“I am completely justified in my panicking!” Jisung shrieks.
“I know, but we’re newly bonded, so all of your emotions are sending signals to my brain and it’s making it really hard for me to focus on anything else.”
Jisung is absolutely flabbergasted. “How can you say it so casually?!”
“Pretending it isn’t happening won’t make it go away,” Minho points out factually, but not very helpfully. “The best thing we can do is acknowledge the fact so we can start figuring out what to do next.”
But—“You’re gonna accept it, just like that?”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
Jisung scoffs. “Get your knot out of me now.”
And then the alpha—Minho—has the audacity to laugh. “It’s not like I can do it on command.”
But Jisung is already spiraling, his thoughts too anxious to stand being stuck in place. “Come on! You’ve been inside of me all night, haven’t you had enough? Just—pull out already!”
Minho laughs again. Jisung begins squirming, like if he finds the right angle, he can wiggle his way off of the alpha’s knot. That idea is quickly crushed when he feels the resulting tug at his rim—and, holy shit, he’s just now realizing how big an alpha’s knot is. And people do this for pleasure?
Well, one of them seems to be feeling pleasure at the moment anyway—Minho groans, the noise doing funny things to Jisung’s insides that he blames entirely on the bite. “All that moving is not going to help, sweetheart,” he says through gritted teeth.
Oh God. Jisung is sufficiently trapped, naked, in bed, with a psycho stranger who doesn’t freak out over something as monumental as an accidental mating.
“I’ve got to do something,” Jisung says, though it’s futile.
Minho grunts, readjusting their position to bring Jisung’s hips even closer to him—likely to lessen the pressure on his sensitive knot. “How about you tell me your name?”
Jisung curls his arms around himself. Logically, if he’s stuck here for however much longer, then there’s no point in being rude, but logic is something that seems to have been failing him for the past twenty-four hours. “It’s Jisung.”
“Jisung,” Minho repeats. “Do you remember what happened last night?”
He feels an unexpected wave of fury burn through his body at that—“Don’t you?” he quips.
“Mostly,” Minho admits without any responding malice to Jisung’s tone. “I just thought that should be our starting point, considering…”
Considering what, Minho? He wants to ask. Considering that we fucked? That I’m still keeping your knot warm? That I have your bite permanently on my neck? That you’ve come inside of me so much that the bud of a new life is undoubtedly being housed by my body at this very second?
“Actually, my memory of last night is pretty stellar,” the alpha continues, completely oblivious to Jisung’s mental olympics, “It’s just that it feels like I wasn’t completely myself.”
Well. If nothing else, Jisung can relate to that. “Me either,” he admits quietly.
Minho hums, silent for a beat, then he asks, “Do you think we were drugged?”
While it would make for an easy explanation, one to direct the blame to for the frankly out-of-body experience last night was, Jisung doesn’t think it’s likely. He barely had the time to sip at one glass at the club before he locked onto Minho, and his anxiety kept it close to his person at all times. Someone would’ve had to have been spy-level stealthy to slip something into his drink, and Jisung doubts a character like that would’ve been targeting him of all people.
And even if someone like that had existed, what would their end goal have been? Drug an unsuspecting alpha and omega to make them go home together? Jisung doesn’t see how this situation could’ve possibly benefitted them, and therefore no reason for a plan like this to have been in place at all.
“I doubt it,” Jisung finally answers, “It wouldn’t make any sense.”
Minho sighs, breath tickling Jisung’s nape. “You’re right,” he agrees.
Silence engulfs them once again. Without any noise to distract him, Jisung’s focus is pulled to the pulsating of his own entrance, the warmth he can still feel filling him up. And when his attention is zeroed in on that, it starts to feel good and his cock starts to chub up in response. Afraid of his arousal becoming noticeable, Jisung is quick to fill the silence in hopes of distracting himself.
“How long do you usually… you know?” he asks. Maybe not the best topic for distracting from his boner, but he’s not exactly drowning in options.
Minho has the gall to look sheepish. “Never more than a half hour,” he says with a grimace. “The situation is a bit different this time, so probably longer. Now that we’re awake, I’m sure I’ll be able to control myself better and pull out the next time it goes down.”
Jisung nods, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety. He supposes this is the best he’s going to get unless he wants to cause himself the pain of ripping a popped knot from his hole.
Minho shifts behind him, twisting his upper half so he can hover over Jisung to look him in the eyes without disturbing the place they’re connected. “What do you plan on doing when that happens?”
Running, obviously. “I don’t know.”
The alpha clearly doesn’t buy it but he also makes no move to call him on it. “I would like for us to at least exchange numbers.”
Jisung sighs. It’s a fair ask, all things considered. But exchanging numbers means acknowledging that there are consequences to their actions once they leave this room, and Jisung isn’t quite there yet. His anxiety begins to spike once again in response to the stress of the situation, all of his usual coping mechanisms disappearing as he spirals.
Just as quickly as he feels his emotions growing overwhelming, he feels an inexplicable wave of calm. There’s not a source for the feeling that he can pinpoint, every nook and cranny of his brain telling him he needs to panic but it’s like he just—can’t.
He looks at Minho accusingly, a frown painted on his features.
“Just a phone number, Jisung,” Minho pleads, his face pinching in what would appear to be genuine anguish. “Please. I won’t try to intrude, I won’t contact you all the time, I won’t even mention the mating bite. But I can’t just let you walk out of here without a way to reach you knowing that you’re carrying my pup. I’ll go crazy, Jisung, you have to understand that,” he stresses, “Whatever rules you make, I’ll follow, I swear, you just can’t disappear on me.”
Jisung pauses, instantly hit with a wave of guilt that’s completely his own. What was he thinking? He can’t choose fight or flight in a situation like this—this took two, after all, and Jisung is only half the equation. He doesn’t know Minho well enough to know if he’s a good person, but that also means he doesn’t know him well enough to write him off as a bad one, either. Minho deserves to be given a chance at least until he proves himself.
“I’ll give you my number,” Jisung decides, waiting for the breath of relief Minho lets out to continue. “But we barely know each other. Mating bite or not, it’s my body that’s going to be affected by this and if I decide I don’t want to go through with it, then that has to be my choice.”
His omega growls in discontent at the mere thought. He doesn’t know if it’s thanks to his omega’s input or the pheromones permeating the room or the hormones flooding through his body from the bite or simply his own brain, but Jisung knows he won’t be getting rid of this baby. He’s not had time to form it into a real, tangible thing but he’s already grown a little attached to the idea of it. Pups were always going to be a part of his future—he hadn’t exactly imagined them to be sired by a stranger, but he wants this nonetheless.
Still, he’s placing the ultimatum just to gauge Minho’s reaction—the first of many tests of his character.
Minho nods, taking Jisung by surprise by hugging him from the back and burying his face in his neck. Jisung almost shoves him away on reflex—old habits. “Of course. If I could take the burden off of you, I would,” he says sincerely. Then, after a pause, he tacks on, “Is that your only rule?”
Jisung frowns as he contemplates. It’s not like he had ever foreseen a situation like this happening to him, thus he’s not really considered what his stipulations should be. His brain is too fried right now to make sound decisions. Minho has already agreed that it’s up to Jisung what they do about the baby going forward, and that’s enough to assuage his current worries.
“For now,” Jisung clarifies.
“You can add anything later, of course,” Minho acquiesces, squeezing Jisung’s shoulder in what the omega takes to be an attempt at comforting him. “Thank you, Jisung. Just—thank you.”
Jisung snorts, ignoring how much his body wants to lean into the touch. “Thank me by pulling out.”
Minho straightens up, almost resembling a soldier as he says, “Yes, sir.”