Min-jae wasn't sure who approved this field trip, but they needed jail.
Officially, it was called the Idolhouse Emotional Sync Experience Weekend. Unofficially, it was a group sleepover for pheromone chaos.
Min-jae had packed a book.
Si-won had packed six outfits and glittery eye masks labeled Alpha, Please.
It started with a bus. A very suspicious, questionably insured university shuttle that smelled like leftover jjajangmyeon and despair. The bonding trip had been announced via a group chat nobody remembered joining, accompanied by a flyer that looked like it had been designed on a microwave. Still, it was mandatory, and it promised "emotional growth, pheromonal alignment, and free s'mores," so Si-won packed his most photogenic sleepwear and told himself he could survive 48 hours in the wilderness with no iced coffee and no Wi-Fi.
The retreat cabin was deep in the mountains, surrounded by tall trees, fog, and the sound of everyone's complaints echoing off the hills. Si-won loved it and hated it. He loved the air, crisp like sparkling water. He loved the weird mist that made his hair curl in dramatic ways. But he also missed bubble tea and chaotic traffic and buildings taller than ten stories. Nature, he decided, was only fun when there was a food delivery option.
They were assigned pairs for the duration of the trip. Some people got dorm-style rooms. Some had bunks. Min-jae and Si-won, inexplicably, got a "private bonding suite," which turned out to be one bed and a scent diffuser that hissed judgment every ten minutes.
At the bonfire that night, Nari handed out grilled tofu skewers and told Si-won she was documenting everything for his future public scandal. Someone was playing guitar badly. Someone else was trying to scent-mark a marshmallow. The sky was too full of stars. Si-won pretended to be annoyed. He secretly loved it.
And then there was Min-jae.
Min-jae, who showed up wearing an expensive-looking outdoor gear set that was clearly not from the school store. His backpack had its own temperature-controlled compartment. His blanket was goose down and monogrammed. Nari squinted at him suspiciously for a full minute.
"Do you know how much that parka costs?" she hissed at Si-won.
Si-won blinked. "Maybe it was on sale."
"It was not on sale. That's a Black Crest. Only trust fund kids and athletes buy those."
"Min-jae's an IT student."
"Exactly. Suspicious."
Si-won just shrugged, too busy eating his marshmallow to question anything. There were stars. There were snacks. There was a faint cinnamon scent in the air that made his chest do weird things.
And later that night there would be only one bed.
Min-jae had mentally prepared for many things. Shared rehearsals. Shared notes in class. What he had not prepared for was sharing a queen-sized mattress with an Omega wearing a strawberry-shaped scrunchie and shorts that said "honey" across the back in rhinestones. It was raining so hard outside the cabin that the windows rattled like a caffeine crash. The assigned room had exactly one bed, one scent diffuser, and zero adult supervision. Si-won had called it a "bonding simulation." Min-jae called it emotional arson.
He stood frozen in the doorway longer than was reasonable, dawn blanket clenched like a shield. Si-won was sprawled across the bed diagonally, arms behind his head like some pheromonal lounge act, scrolling his phone at full brightness. He looked both impossibly relaxed and fully aware of the chaos he was causing. The scrunchie shimmered every time the lamplight caught it. The scent in the room was cloying, rich with strawberry pheromones layered over a base note of trouble.
Min-jae cleared his throat. Si-won didn't look up.
"I can sleep on the floor," Min-jae offered.
"You absolutely cannot," Si-won replied. "It's cold. The floor is hard. You're an Alpha, not a monk. Get in the bed before I file a comfort violation."
Min-jae exhaled like it was his last breath. He placed his blanket on the mattress's far edge and perched with the discipline of a priest preparing for ritual sacrifice. The scent diffuser hissed softly from the corner, releasing a pink cloud that smelled like bubble tea and impending regret.
"You're breathing weird again," Si-won murmured.
"That's because I'm in a bed with you."
"Ah. Makes sense."
"You're not wearing long pants."
"I'm emotionally liberated."
"You're wearing a top that says Touch Starved in cursive font."
"You don't like it?."
Min-jae ran a hand through his hair and said nothing. The room was too quiet. The scent too strong. The bed too soft. And then Si-won rolled over with a sigh and flung one leg casually over Min-jae's thigh like he was draping a throw blanket.
"This doesn't mean anything," Si-won mumbled, cheek pressed to his arm. "I'm just cold."
Min-jae made a strangled noise. He did not move.
"I'm going to sleep," Si-won added, dramatically shifting closer.
"Fine."
And then... movement. Not purposeful. Not even conscious. Just little shifts and sighs and slow breathing that made Min-jae hyper-aware of every cell in his body. Si-won's thigh flexed against his. The back of his hand brushed skin. The scent thickened with sugar and warmth and something almost electric. Min-jae tried to think about homework. Terminal code. Weather reports. Nothing worked. Si-won's voice emerged like a secret being told through a grin.
"Is that a pheromonal reaction in your boxers, or are you just happy to see me?"
Min-jae groaned into the pillow.
"Relax," Si-won said. "You're not going to ruin me with your cinnamon-boy virgin energy."
"That's not..."
"You're a virgin."
Silence.
"Classified," Min-jae admitted.
"Hot."
The air crackled. The diffuser clicked into its next cycle with a breathy sound that felt suspiciously like approval. Si-won shifted again until he was half under Min-jae, then reached up and tugged the Alpha's hoodie string.
"You can touch me," he whispered. "If you want."
Min-jae's hand was trembling when it settled on Si-won's bare waist. His fingers were cold, his brain hotter than ever, and Si-won's body... warm. Pheromones agitated in the air. Inviting in a way no training manual could've ever prepared him for.
Si-won rolled them over with zero hesitation. One second Min-jae was kneeling awkwardly like a butler; the next, he was flat on his back with an Omega straddling him, strawberry and milk scent thick in the air, hair loose and wild, thighs bracketing his hips like it was instinct.
"You're gonna hurt yourself trying to alpha your way through this," Si-won murmured, reaching for the travel kit and fishing out a gold-wrapped condom. "So let me help."
Min-jae tried to sit up, but Si-won pushed him back down with one palm to the chest. "Stay still. It's cute."
He tore the wrapper open with his teeth, slowly, like a damn drama scene, then tugged down Min-jae's waistband and unrolled the condom onto him with slow, steady precision. He even adjusted it at the base with two fingers, humming softly like he was tuning an instrument.
"There," Si-won said, sitting up again. "Perfect fit."
"I'm not gonna survive this," Min-jae groaned.
"You're not supposed to." Si-won braced himself, reached between his legs, and guided Min-jae's cock right to his entrance. "You're supposed to die and reincarnate as my pillow pet."
The stretch was instant, slick, warm, and tight.
Si-won sank down in slow, shaking increments, head tipping back, thighs flexing as his body adjusted. His breath stuttered out of him like it hurt and healed all at once. Min-jae grabbed the sheets, fists white-knuckled.
"Holy...Are you okay?" he asked.
Si-won moaned, eyes fluttering. "It's so much. I forgot what a first time stretch feels like."
He bottomed out with a soft, high gasp and sat there a moment, just breathing, their hips flush. Then he started to move. Slow at first, rocking, hips circling like a rhythm all his own. Min-jae couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just watched the way Si-won's body took him like he was made for it, every motion sticky and tight and obscene. His cock was gripped from base to tip, hugged by slick heat that pulsed around him with every grind.
"You're twitching," Si-won whispered.
"I'm dying."
"Sexy."
Min-jae couldn't hold still. He surged up, grabbing Si-won's hips, thrusting into him, once, hard and Si-won's whole body jolted.
"Okay, now we're cooking," the Omega laughed, but it was breathless. He tried to keep rhythm, but Min-jae was already taking over, his Alpha instincts burning through restraint. He rolled them over. Si-won yelped.
"I liked being on top!"
"I need to move," Min-jae growled. "I need to do this...right."
Si-won was beneath him now, spread open, thighs pressed to his chest, lips red and bitten, eyes wide. His cock was dripping, untouched, sweet-slick like the rest of him, and Min-jae didn't know how he'd ever forget this image. He thrust again, slower this time, deeper. Si-won arched off the bed.
The next several minutes blurred. Moans. Gasps. Pounding rhythm. The bed squeaking. The scent in the room burned pink and electric. Si-won's hands clawed down Alpha's back as if he needed to anchor himself or fly apart.
"I'm..." Min-jae's voice cracked. "I'm close."
"Not yet," Si-won panted. "One more...change positions. Please."
Min-jae blinked, dazed. Si-won flipped over. Arched his back. Lifted his ass, still glistening with slick and flushed red from impact.
"Come on," he said over his shoulder. "Finish me like that."
Min-jae lost it. He pushed back in with a groan, cock enveloped in soaking heat that sucked him in like a second skin. The Omega's body yielded and clenched at once, the stretch deeper from this angle, each stroke loud and messy. The sound was obscene. The scent worse. Si-won was crying out now, wrecked, wrung out with every thrust.
And when he came... untouched, back arched like a bow ...it was a full-body convulsion. He sobbed Min-jae's name into the pillow, thighs shaking, spilling hard across the sheets. That was it.
Min-jae let go, rutting deep into the Omega, exploding inside the condom in wave after overwhelming wave. His vision went white. His muscles locked. It was too much. And still not enough.
They collapsed sweaty, sticky, panting, ruined. Si-won broke the silence first.
"I smell like desperation and bubble tea."
Min-jae couldn't speak.
"That," Si-won said, rolling onto his back, "was supposed to be a simulation."
"Sorry," Min-jae croaked.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I'm already hard again."
"It's just a bonding simulation," Si-won whispered. "Right?"
Min-jae smiled, slow and genuine.
"I hate how much I want to do it again."
📱 @matchamalice
bonding weekend: I tripped.
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