They finally sit down to eat. “Have you been to karaoke with Sieun?” Hyuntak asks. Suho laughs. “Yeah.” “What does he usually do there?” “Judges us.” Hyuntak chuckles. “He likes watching me, though. Secretly. His eyes practically sparkle when I sing,” Suho says smugly.

Given Sieun, that probably checks out. “I’ll come next time,” Hyuntak says without thinking. Suho grins, chopsticks midair. “You wanna see me perform that badly?” “So I can help Sieun judge you,” Hyuntak deadpans. “Except I won’t have heart eyes.”

Suho snorts. “You’ll regret those words.” “You wish.” “You have no idea. Baku and I don’t play at karaoke.” “We’ll see,” Hyuntak says. Once they finish, Hyuntak starts doing the dishes. Suho leans against the counter, diagonal from him, in that same relaxed way he always does

It’s almost like muscle memory now, the positions they settle into when they’re together. It’s honestly quite hard being apart when everything between them still feels messy and unsteady.

When he finishes drying his hands, Hyuntak turns but Suho’s still standing there, head bowed slightly, eyes on the floor like he’s stuck in thought. “Hey,” Hyuntak says. No answer. “Ahn Suho.” That does it.

Suho looks up, startled, probably because it’s rare for Hyuntak to say his full name like that. Hyuntak walks over, stopping a safe distance in front of him. “You okay?” Suho just looks at him, quiet, lashes fluttering like he’s spaced out.

He doesn’t answer but instead reaches for Hyuntak’s hand. By now, Hyuntak’s gotten used to these spontaneous hand-holdings. Suho does it often. And he never seems to hesitate. Not that Hyuntak minds. He likes how Suho’s palm feels against his.

Suho plays with his fingers, thumb tracing across his palm, turning their hands so their fingers intertwine. Hyuntak watches but decides to speak again. “What’s bothering you?” Hyuntak murmurs. Suho hums noncommittally.

“You’ve been… weird since I got back,” Hyuntak presses gently. Still no verbal reply. Just more silence. So Hyuntak sighs and brings his free hand up to press to Suho’s forehead. His frown deepens. “You shithead have a fever.”

Suho just laughs softly. And before Hyuntak can scold him for it, he’s being pulled forward, Suho’s arms wrapping around his waist and locking him into a tight embrace. Suho’s chin settles on his shoulder, breathing softly by his ear.

With Suho still leaning on the counter, Hyuntak ends up standing right between his legs, arms awkwardly stiff at his sides. His heart is beating like a drum. Aside from that one night on the couch... this might be their first actual hug.

Eventually, he lifts his arms, slowly wrapping them around Suho’s shoulders. Not too tightly. Just enough. Suho hums, clearly pleased, pressing closer, his hold around Hyuntak’s waist firm. His chin tucks in deeper, nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder.

Hyuntak clears his throat, trying to remain calm. He’s going to have to get used to this. With Suho being clingy. And maybe... it’s not so bad. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs again, concerned.

He releases Suho’s hair, needing space, needing distance. His feet take a small step back, and finally Suho’s arms fall away too, slow and reluctant, one hand from his waist, the other from his thigh.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Hyuntak mutters, voice quiet but edged with disbelief. His heart’s still pounding, erratic and loud in his ears. He doesn’t know if he’s more flustered or stunned. Suho blinks, slow at first, like his brain’s just catching up.

Then he straightens too quickly, the suddenness of it making Hyuntak flinch. Then Suho reaches out again, but this time gently, almost cautious, taking Hyuntak’s hands into his own. There’s a flicker of clarity in his gaze now. He seems more aware. Just barely.

“I’m sorry,” Suho says, and his voice is rushed but earnest. “Shit. Did I make you uncomfortable?” There’s no flirtation in his tone now, no teasing. Just genuine concern. His eyes search Hyuntak’s face for an answer, frantic and wide, like he’s terrified he crossed a line.

Hyuntak doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t trust himself to. He just mumbles, barely audible, “No.” Suho exhales, relieved and exasperated. He lets go of one of Hyuntak’s hands to drag his fingers through his hair, tangling in it. “I’m sorry,” he says again, this time quieter.

“I really don’t know what came over me.” Hyuntak clears his throat and forces himself to glance at him, if only for a second. “Probably the fever,” he says dryly. Suho meets his gaze, guilt still present in the curve of his brow.

But his thumb grazes over Hyuntak’s knuckles like he’s apologizing with touch too. “Yeah,” he says with a weak, sheepish smile. “That’s gotta be it.” He squeezes his hand one last time, then lets go entirely. “I.. I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick.”

With that, he turns and disappears down the hall. Hyuntak doesn’t move. Just watches him go. Listens to the soft click of the bathroom door. Only then does he finally breathe.

His palm flies to his neck, fingers brushing over the spot where Suho had kissed him, licked him, like he was trying to mark something that didn’t even exist. It’s still warm. Still buzzing. “Fucking crazy bastard,” he mutters to himself.

The thought hits him harder than he expects. Suho.. Suho had been scenting him. And for what? He’s not even an omega. He’s a beta. There’s no scent gland that works the way alphas want it to. No pheromones to react to. No bond to trigger. So what the hell was that?

He doesn’t know if Suho did it unconsciously, driven by fever and instinct, or if some deeper part of him wanted something he wasn’t saying out loud. Either way, it sinks something heavy in Hyuntak’s chest. Makes his stomach twist. It wasn’t supposed to feel that good.

He grabs his phone from the counter, skin finally cooling as the heat slowly disappears from his body. Everything still feels a little too much. Still, the rational part of him kicks in. Fever. That’s the most obvious explanation.

So he sends Sieun a text, trying to brush everything aside and just focus on what matters. That Suho’s still sick. (And apparently gets really clingy when he is.) Sieun replies almost instantly, telling him to call.

Hyuntak doesn’t hesitate. He steps out onto their tiny balcony, phone pressed to his ear, the night air brushing against his flushed face, finally giving him a moment to cool down. For real this time. “Hello?” Sieun’s voice comes through, slightly muffled but clear enough.

“Hi, Sieunnie,” Hyuntak says softly, voice dropping into something gentler without him realizing. “I actually have an early meeting today, so I’m already out,” Sieun replies, brisk but not cold. “Wait, you’re calling because Suho has a fever?”

Hyuntak frowns. His first instinct is to pout. Sieun’s always busy, always somewhere else lately, working himself down to the bone. He wonders if he’ll get any rest after this meeting. He should get some rest.

Maybe Hyuntak can give him a massage when he comes back home, though he’s never done that before. But he could learn. He would, for Sieun. “Yeah,” he confirms, trying not to think about everything that just happened.

“Out of nowhere?” Sieun sounds surprised. “Suho rarely gets fevers. Are you sure? What’s it like? Actually, how are you two doing anyway?” “Um…” Hyuntak hesitates. “We’re… okay?” There’s a noticeable pause on the line.

Then Sieun asks again, voice a little more pointed, “How okay?” Hyuntak chews his bottom lip. Screw it. He doesn’t want to dance around this. Might as well tell him. “We kissed.” Silence. Hyuntak immediately panics, his brain spiraling into worst-case scenarios.

Then finally, Sieun’s voice comes back, low and tight with disbelief. “You’re telling me this now, while I’m literally in a meeting and can’t even scream?” Hyuntak lets out a loud laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. “As if you scream.”

“I do scream,” Sieun protests, almost indignant. “In bed, maybe,” Hyuntak shoots back, grinning despite himself. There’s a pause. Then Sieun mutters back, just loud enough to hear. “You’ll scream too, eventually.” Hyuntak flushes red instantly.

The heat creeps up his face, and now Sieun’s laughing. Hyuntak covers his face with his hand even though Sieun can’t see him. “But seriously, I’m glad,” Sieun says after the laughter fades. His voice softens. “Really.”

Hyuntak only hums in response, the corner of his mouth twitching. Sieun had dropped enough hints before, subtle encouragements that made it clear he’d wanted the two of them to get closer. He’s just… grateful he didn’t have to hear more teasing.

“At least I’m safe from your taunting today,” Hyuntak mumbles, “since you’re stuck in that meeting.” “Temporarily,” Sieun laughs. “But anyway, let’s talk more when I get home. How bad is the fever?” “Not too bad,” Hyuntak replies. “He’s warm. Kinda flushed. But that’s it.”

“And?” Sieun sounds skeptical. Hyuntak sighs. “He’s… clingier.” There’s a beat of silence before Sieun speaks again. “Clingy like… disoriented? Like he’s spaced out, clearly not acting sluggish, but still warm?” “Yeah… something like that.” That's oddly specific, though.

“Hmm.” Sieun’s voice turns thoughtful. Hyuntak can hear faint background noise. Someone calling Sieun’s name, the rustle of papers, maybe a chair moving. Then Sieun’s voice returns, lower and a bit hurried. “My boss is calling me. But that’s probably not a normal fever, Tak.”

Hyuntak’s brow furrows. “Then what? Should I just let him be? He seems fine, anyway..” “Sounds like he’s in pre-rut,” Sieun says casually, like he’s dropping weather updates. “Anyway, I gotta go. They need me now. Love you. Tell Suho I love him too.” Back the fucking hell up.

“Wait, hold on—he’s what—?” But Sieun’s already hung up. Hyuntak stares at the screen. Pre-rut? What the fuck. He doesn’t even get a second to let it settle when Suho appears again, walking out of the bathroom, towel over his head, scanning the room like he’s looking for him.

When Suho spots him standing at the balcony, he lets out a breath of relief and strolls over like everything is normal. “Wanna sleep?” he asks, voice calm, but etched with something else. “I’ll wash up first,” Hyuntak blurts, body moving automatically past him.

He doesn’t even process Suho’s nod. Even while brushing his teeth, he’s stuck replaying what Sieun said in his head over and over. When he comes back out, his brain is still spinning. He couldn't really keep up with all that happened just tonight.

Suho’s lounging on the couch now. He glances up. “Sleeping at mine?” he asks, casual, but there’s something hopeful beneath it. Hyuntak doesn’t even answer, just stands there, expression unreadable.

Suho seems to pick up on it and stands. “Sleep at mine,” he repeats, a little more firmly. Then, softer. “Please?” Hyuntak nods. They make their way to Suho’s room and lie down, backs straight, not touching, a few inches of silence between them.

But Hyuntak isn’t really there. His mind is still caught in that call. Pre-rut. What does that even mean for them? What if everything that happened today was just hormones? Because he's the only person there at that time.

He rolls onto his side, facing away from Suho unconsciously, trying to shut the thoughts down. He ends up with his back to Suho. Maybe it’s easier not to face him when his thoughts won’t settle.

He doesn’t expect it when Suho gently drapes an arm over his waist and slowly inches closer, molding their bodies together with ease. His breath catches in his throat. Then he feels it. Suho’s unmistakable hard cock pressed right into the curve of his ass.

They both inhale sharply at the contact, surprised, stilling immediately. It’s as if the entire room freezes. Hyuntak’s eyes go wide, and when he turns slightly, Suho’s already pulled back, sitting up like he’s just realized what he’s done.

His back hits the wall, his expression panicked, an actual panic. He looks rattled. “Shit. Sorry—” he begins, eyes darting around like he wants to disappear. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t—”

Before Suho can spiral further, Hyuntak grabs his wrist and tugs him down again, forcing him to lie beside him. “Stop fuckin’ apologizing,” he mutters. “It’s fine.” Suho blinks up at him. “No—it’s not just the fever. I mean, I’m not—I think I’m—” “in pre-rut?” Hyuntak finishes

Suho stares. Then slowly, his body deflates, sinking into the mattress. He looks up at the ceiling. “Yeah.” They sit in silence for a moment. Then Suho speaks again, quieter now. “Maybe you should sleep in your room—” “I’m staying here.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Is Hyuntak thinking straight? Probably not. His brain’s overheating, logic trying to claw its way through the confusion. But the slightest thought of Suho pushing him away, of him being alone tonight, gnaws at him harder than anything else. So he shoves it all down.

Suho doesn’t reply, but when Hyuntak turns back to face away from him again, he feels it, a rustle. Then the full press of Suho’s body sliding against his from behind, arms wrapping tightly around his middle.

This time, there’s no space left between them. Suho’s hard-on presses right back against the crack of his ass, slipping perfectly into place. Hyuntak exhales shakily. Then Suho murmurs, voice cracked and low, “I’m not gonna do anything. Just… let me hold you like this. Please.”

There’s so much desperation in it. Just a raw need to be close, to stay. And Hyuntak, overwhelmed, still trying to hold it together, nods. Barely. But enough. He doesn’t know if Suho catches it. He’s not sure he’ll even be able to sleep like this. But he still closes his eyes.

Hyuntak had woken up about ten minutes ago. He’s still in bed, wrapped in Suho’s warmth. This time, Suho’s the one with his face pressed to Hyuntak’s chest, arm thrown over his waist. He’s actually thirsty, but debating whether to leave the bed just yet.

After everything that happened last night, getting up feels strange. And while he has a lot to process, it’s hard to think clearly with Suho’s morning wood pressed against his thigh, something he very pointedly ignored the moment he woke up.

His throat is so dry now, so he tries to wiggle Suho away. Suho groans in response, tightening his hold and pulling Hyuntak even closer, so his thigh is practically wedged between Suho’s legs. Then this shameless bastard sighs in relief at the contact and nuzzles into his chest.

Hyuntak swallows. He can feel it, even through the fabric. Suho’s… big. Not that it’s news. He’s seen it before, obviously, whenever they do it with Sieun but it’s not like he memorized the details nor something he chooses to remember. Still, now it’s all he can damn feel.

He freezes for a second, then dares to shift his leg just slightly. Enough to create a tiny bit of friction. Suho sighs again. So he does it once more, and this time Suho’s hand tightens at his back. When it’s Suho chasing the friction, seeking it, something stirs in his chest.

But then Hyuntak stops, not yet brave enough to continue this little game, especially in the morning right after everything. So he slowly maneuvers his arm beneath him and pushes himself up. Suho stirs, blinking up at him sleepily with one eye open. “Mornin’...”

Hyuntak touches his head, threading his fingers through Suho’s hair for a few seconds before sitting up, looking down at him. “Morning.” Suho moves his head to the side now, arm loosely draped over Hyuntak’s lap. “Five minutes,” he mumbles.