Chapter Text
He never comes back.
San sits in his bed all day, twisting and turning as best as his injured body allows him to. Time goes by agonizingly slow, each minute taking a whole eternity to pass as San checks the clock every fucking five minutes.
He said he would come. He is his doctor for fuck’s sake, San tries to tell himself. But deep down something unsettling pools low in his gut, a cold apprehensive feeling. Without any reason, he senses that something is either happening or about to happen, like listening to the rumble of water before spotting a waterfall.
Nurses stop by almost every other hour, checking his vital signs, changing his medicine, writing on that damn clipboard attached at the end of the bed. San asks every single one of them Where Is His Doctor, When Will He Come, and they all answer the same thing: We will check and come back to you. And they never did.
When the sun sets in the horizon, the anxiety crawling under San’s skin gets almost too unbearable, and he is literally on the verge of tears when the door of his bedroom opens once again.
Before even looking who is it, hope peaks so high inside San that he literally feels a sting in his chest.
“Wooyoung!” He whispers, voice out of breath, and then he clutches at his chest with a wince, feeling the sting hurting deep inside him.
“Hello San, doctor Wooyoung had a personal emergency and won’t be able to come,” A doctor San hadn’t seen yet says as he steps into the room, “But I’m here in his place to check on you.”
“Oh.” San’s disappointment makes him look like a flower that withered and died under the rain and wind. Not even having a building tumbling down over him and having a metal bar being pierce though his chest made him look so dejected.
The new doctor chuckles lightly, “I’m doctor Yeosang, do you mind if I examine you, San?” He asks, his voice is deeply grave, and he looks like a vampire and also a model. It’s mesmerizing.
But San doesn’t care about it, he just shrugs his shoulder—wincing again at the action—pouting and looking sideways.
“Is he ok?” Is the first thing San says as the doctor opens the bandages to check his wound, “Doctor Wooyoung, I mean.”
“He is fine.” Yeosang answers.
“But... you said he had a personal emergency...” San insists.
“He did, but it’s an expected personal emergency, if you know what I mean.”
San does not know what he means. And now he is even more confused.
“Are you feeling any pain?” Yeosang changes the topic of conversation, focusing on San’s examination.
“No—will he come back tomorrow?” San swings the conversation back again. He is determined to get more information, any information.
The doctor stops his movements and adopts a wondering posture, fingers pinching lightly at his chin and head tilted up.
“To be quite honest San, I also don’t know. It’s a... unique situation.” He then pulls himself back from his thoughts, returning to dutifully clip San’s bandages around his chest, “But you shouldn’t concern yourself with this, you should focus on healing and getting better, ok?”
San now is not only confused, but also displeased. What kind of fucking answer was that. Still, he sighs and agrees amiably with the doctor. It was not the doctor’s fault that Wooyoung wasn’t there.
“Ok doctor, thank you.” He says, anxiety emptying his body and leaving him feeling just sad and lonely.
Dinner arrives and goes in a blur. San does not taste the food, doesn’t even see what it is, just swallowing down everything as fast as he can so the nurse can take it back and leave him alone.
It’s still relatively early when he falls asleep, the mix of the medicines circling his body and the frustration of waiting the whole day and getting nothing makes a powerful combo that knock him off abruptly between one blink and the next one.
Red.
The color floods San’s vision as he opens his eyes. Deep burgundy red everywhere. He is once again in the forest, but this time the forest is far back behind him, leaving the space open and wide, the ground is covered in red petals, rich in fragrance and velvety to the touch. The sky is colored by shades of oranges and reds and pinks in a breathtakingly sunset. Near the horizon line San can see a huge lake reflecting the light, the water rippling under the soft breeze.
A shuffling sound startles him out of his amazement. It’s a shuffling sound different from the sound of the flower petals drifting in the wind, rustling on the ground.
San stands up and walks over to its source, the sound getting clearer with each step. He is not surprised to find Wooyoung laying down and lazily stretching out on a bed of red rose petals on the floor. But he is surprised to find Wooyoung wearing nothing but red underwear.
He gasps and chokes and coughs all at the same time, the sounds make Wooyoung opens his eyes slowly.
“San.” He says, sounding a little out of it, still blinking awake.
“Wooyoung.” San replies, already fully awake inside the dream—he is starting to suspect it’s not a dream, but that suspicious will have to be explored later, when Wooyoung is not almost naked in front of him.
The red-haired man slowly sits up, scratching the back of his head and looking around a little puzzled. Then he suddenly fixes his eyes back to San.
“San.” He repeats, but this time he sounds alert.
“Wooyoung.” San dumbly repeats.
They lock eyes and there is understanding behind them, there is conscious. Reality and dreams all together, dimensions colliding and being brought to light to both of them. Their eyes mirror everything they feel, the confusion the bewilderment.
All memories flash like a movie. They randomly meeting in the hospital hallway, the dream where they first touched, the accident, the surgery, Wooyoung taking care of San inside another dream, Wooyoung visiting San in the hospital bedroom.
“What is happening?” Wooyoung asks but it’s not directed towards San, it’s just thrown to the sky, to whatever god or entity might be listening.
“I don’t know,” San speaks slowly, apprehensive almost, and carefully sits down next to the bed Wooyoung is on, “Is this... is this like... an alpha thing?”
Wooyoung can’t help but stop feeling confused for one second to just laugh at San, a loud cackling sound that makes San’s heart feel as if it’s full of sunshine.
“Very unlikely, since I'm not an alpha.” Wooyoung says, still laughing a little bit.
“You’re not?”
“No, why did you think I was an alpha?”
“I... uhh...” San hadn't actually properly thought anything, he was just going with the flow, “It’s because you are so handsome.” He gives up and blurts out the truth.
Wooyoung laughs again, this time delighted.
“Thank you, I guess.”
San fidgets with a flower petal for a second, before raising his eyes to meet Wooyoung’s.
“What are you, then?” He asks tentatively, then adds hurriedly, “If you feel comfortable to answer of course!”
Wooyoung gazes at the horizon with a complicated expression.
“I’m an omega. A broken omega. At least that’s what I thought, until...” His voice trails off.
“It’s ok... I’m a broken alpha too.” San offers, sad and honest and maybe tired. He wishes Wooyoung would hold his hand, he settles with just shifting himself up a little, sitting closer to the doctor.
They sit in silence for a while, thoughts running through their heads as they watch the beautiful sunset before them.
“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” San asks after gathering courage inside him. It had been eating him from the inside out even before when he was awake in the real word, and now, seeing Wooyoung right in front of him, it is physically impossible for him to hold himself back from asking, even though he knows he could sound needy.
“I...” Wooyoung sighs, closing his eyes.
“The other doctor, the vampire doctor, said you had a personal emergency.” San complements.
“Vampire doctor,” Wooyoung chuckles to himself, knowing fully well San is talking about Yeosang, “Yeah, personal emergency, I guess you could put it that way.”
“Did I do anyth—” San starts and it’s cut off by Wooyoung.
“You didn’t San, it’s not your fault.” The doctor pauses for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. The sounds around them seem to get rougher, the rumbling of the wind and the shuffle of the petals, “The reason I didn’t come to see you, it’s because I suddenly and inexplicably entered pre-he—”
And then, just like Wooyoung had cut off San’s line to speak over him, Wooyoung’s line is cut off by a wild gush of wind, knocking the words out of his mouth. The wind circles them violently, it makes the rose petals rise and twirl all around.
San closes his eyes and covers the upper part of his face with his forearm instinctively, and then San is engulfed by the most delicious fragrance he has ever smelled in his entire life. It’s as powerful and enveloping as a magic spell. A rich and fresh aroma of flowers and sunshine with a deep undertone of honey. San can almost taste it.
The wind does not let out, pulling and tugging at them, swirling insistently as if it’s trying to convince them of something.
San hears a oof sound and turns around to find that Wooyoung had been knocked on his back by the wind.
“Wooyoung!” San exclaims, quickly crawling over to Wooyoung’s side to see if he’s ok.
“Pre-heat,” Wooyoung finishes what he was saying before. He is blushing from his chest to his cheeks. He swallows hard, “I entered pre-heat, San.”
“Oh.”
San had heard about heat. After his sudden changing of subgender he had read about alphas and consequently—omegas. He read about ruts—and heats.
“Fuck!” Wooyoung curses and curls down as if in pain, hand clutched to his abdomen. But then he doesn’t groan in pain, he moans, long and hard.
It takes a second to reach San. A wave of such fluid delicious arousal rolling over him, gripping at his gut, blurring his vision.
San immediately stands up and walks back three big steps. He wants to call over Wooyoung, asks if he’s ok, asks what the fuck is going on, but he freezes.
The smell keeps unfolding like waves crashing on the shore, drowning San in its spell. And it’s all paired with Wooyoung’s increasing whines and moans, he is tossing and turning over the flower bed, showing all the beautiful long lines of his lean toned body.
“Shit—San!” He calls San, and it doesn’t help San at all, to hear his voice being said in such sinful voice.
“Wooyoung, is this your heat?” San asks, fighting to stay grounded in his mental faculties.
“Yeah, I think so,” The doctor answers. He is blushing hard and sweating from head to toe, the red hair already glued to his forehead, “But this never happened—before.” He finishes with a long grunt, throwing his head back and arching his back.
The sight makes something clutch at San’s gut with the power of a thunder. It’s so intense, a barely contained storm of desire thrumming in his veins. He never felt anything remotely close to this.
In an attempt to control himself, San sits down on the floor and closes his eyes. He takes deep breathes.
“Wooyoung, it’s ok, we will wake up any minute!” San tries to cheer him up, even though he himself doesn’t feel much relief in those words.
“San, I’m scared.” Wooyoung whispers.
“We’re gonna wake up any second I promise!” San urges and slaps both his cheeks for emphasis, as if the act would wake them up.
“I know—and I think that’s even scarier.”
San startles at Wooyoung’s words, and opens one eye to peek at him, “Wait, what do you mean?”
“It’s... my first heat... in years,” Wooyoung tells San between hard swallows, “When I wake up, I'll be all alone in my apartment.”
“Can’t you... call someone to help you with your heat?” San suggests carefully.
San had heard about this, how alphas and omegas sometimes help each other during heats and ruts. It didn’t sit well in him the idea of such agreement, but he considered himself such an outsider that even his own perceptions of all these dynamics weren’t taken very seriously by himself.
“No.” Wooyoung refuses, his voice ice cold and leaving no margins for further arguments. He was starting to tremble, his hands clutched in a vice grip on his thighs.
“Do you want me to leave? I’ll find the edge of this dream and throw myself off if you want.” San genuinely offers. He can see that Wooyoung is suffering, and it hurts in him too.
“Don’t leave.” Wooyoung scrambles to sit up, desperation in his face, “Stay here with me.”
It’s like a light switch flip, that turns on and lights up a whole city, how San suddenly feels the deep powerful connection to his inner Alpha awake inside himself. It’s an electric shock running through all his cells. It’s a fusion of voices, of instincts, of desires that clash like a super nova.
And for the first time in his life he feels complete. He feels whole.
“I’ll stay here with you as long as you need, Omega.” San says, and his voice sounds different—deeper, rougher around the edges, full of intention.
“Alpha,” Wooyoung moans, flopping back as if San’s words have punched the air out of him. He finally lets go and allows his hands to roam freely over his body, grabbing at the noticeable bulge on his underwear through the fabric.
“I’m here.” San repeats, voice flying through the air like a feather, seeping deep into Wooyoung’s skin, “What do you need?”
The urgent wave of pleasure had settled inside San into a slow burning coiling tension in his stomach. The need to help and please his omega washes over everything else.
“I need—” Wooyoung breathes hard, “Release.”
“Do it, it’s ok, you’re safe omega.”
San watches entranced as Wooyoung reaches inside his underwear and grabs his hard cock, immediately starting to stroke it up and down, moaning and shaking all over.
It takes only a few strokes before Wooyoung is crying out and coming, but he doesn’t sound relieved, instead he looks even more agitated.
“It’s not enough,” He says in a choked whisper, “San, I’m scared.”
The helplessness and desperation in Wooyoung’s voice trigger San’s instinct like the fire alarm going off in the fire squad station. He stands up and in a blink of an eye is kneeling next to Wooyoung’s head, a hand going to the doctor’s forehead to push his sweaty hair out of his face.
Wooyoung feverish body trembles under San’s cool hand.
“Breath, omega.” San says softly, caressing his hair.
San is scared too, scared like he had never felt in his whole life. All the new feelings and sensations clashing inside, making him afraid of how he’s going to act next. Since his subgender change, everything he’d read about omega’s heat painted a urgent violent situation, where he would lose control of his own actions, how the omega would seduce him and his pheromones would undermine his own self-control.
Instead, as he stares deep into Wooyoung’s hazed eyes, he actually never felt more in control. Yes he feels the attraction and desire towards the doctor with a throbbing breathtaking awareness, it’s a living thing running in his veins. But, even though it’s intense, it’s not unruled. He still feels like himself, his integrity intact, and above all else, he feels desperate to help his omega, to sooth his pain however he can.
San realizes with astonishing clarity that there’s no way for him to feel pleasure when his omega is in agonizing pain. He lets out a relieved breath.
“Hey, Wooyoung, look at me,” He pleads, and Wooyoung slowly focus his eyes on San, “You are not alone, I’m here with you.”
“San,” Wooyoung breathes out. He is in a feverish state, his words sluggish when he speaks, “Alpha”
As the last word leaves Wooyoung’s mouth, the sweet scent of honey takes over, coating the air heavily like an actual physical presence.
Easy as two puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly, San envelops Wooyoung’s cheeks in both his hands and leans closer until his lips touch Wooyoung’s forehead, light as a feather.
“Close your eyes, Omega,” San whispers softly and Wooyoung visibly relaxes in his hands, the doctor’s eyes immediately closing, “Breath, and do what you want to do. It’s your own self calling you to do something. It’s ok.”
San’s words unlock something inside Wooyoung, as his pheromones elevates higher and higher, more potent and alluring.
“Yes.” The doctor replies, seemingly falling into his heat head first. His hands drift down his own body fast and insistent, unceremoniously pulling down his underwear entirely and throwing the piece of clothing to the side carelessly.
Every sound and movement and smell are intensified due to San’s heightened senses. It’s overpowering and refreshing, like diving deep into a clear-water ocean. He keeps his hands clutched to Wooyoung’s face, now resting his forehead over the other doctor’s. Their breathing mingles, intoxicating both of them.
Around them the sunset grows redder, tinting them in hypnotic crimson shades.
“Alpha, I feel so hot,” Wooyoung says, fingers pinching both of his nipples hard, pulling and twisting the small nubs punishingly “I feel so empty.”
San hums, eyes falling down to gaze at the expanse of Wooyoung’s body. The way his skin is blushed, his back arching, his legs open and dripping with sweat. It’s sinful. And San feels his mouth watering at the sight.
“You know what to do.” San kisses the tip of Wooyoung’s nose, threading his fingers into his red hair.
Wooyoung takes a deep intake of air while nodding his head.
A long drawn-out moan resonates inside the dream as Wooyoung burries two fingers all the way to the last knuckle in his hole. San can’t help but moan too, being surged by a cold grip of pleasure in his guts, almost as if Wooyoung’s pleasure was an extension of his own.
“Oh god—” Wooyoung chokes out. He wastes no time and starts to immediately thrusts his fingers in and out, canting his hips in time with the motions. His other hand flies up and he grips the hair in the back of San’s head in a deathly grip.
San can taste the omega’s pleasure like a phantom memory on his tongue, his whole body tingles.
“You want more, take it.” San commands, voice barely a whisper.
“San!” Wooyoung trembles, adding a third finger, going as deep as he can in a maddening fast—desperate—slide.
The wet sounds are obscene and it fuels them more and more.
“You are so wet omega, you are doing so well, you smell so fucking good.” San lets the praises fall from his mouth freely. His heart clenching with pure delight at how deeply moved Wooyoung seems by them.
Wooyoung suddenly clutches San’s hair harder, trying to call his attention.
It’s like a thunder roaring in a storm when San meets his gaze, but Wooyoung is the storm and San would love nothing more than to drown in it forever. San’s reflexes acts before he realizes, and his hands grab hard where they are resting on Wooyoung’s hair and the back of his neck. Wooyoung preens under the touch.
“Alpha, do you want to see it?” The doctor swallows hard, making inhuman effort to slow down the way his hips are riding his fingers furiously. Wooyoung is completely pliant and submitted under San, and yet he looks like a god holding all the power.
San inspires deeply, “Show me.”
San watches intently as Wooyoung flinches when he slowly pulls his fingers from his hole and raises them up in front of San. They are sticky and dripping wet, slick dripping down all the way to his wrist.
San reaction to it is so visceral he simply freezes, looking as if he is two seconds away from disintegrate into thin air. He wants to taste it so bad, get those fingers into his own mouth, get his mouth on that hole and make even more of a mess.
But this is not about him, he calmly remembers himself. Maybe one day, in the real world, after he has the opportunity to take Wooyoung on dates, and give him flowers, and make him laugh. San craves all those things.
“It’s perfect, omega,” San tells him, “You are perfect, Wooyoung.” San adds and, with a feather-light touch, he circles Wooyoung’s wrist and guides Wooyoung’s hand back between his legs.
“I’m—” Wooyoung tries to speak, but something in San’s face makes him choke in his own words. His big eyes feverish and dreamy.
“Show me more, show all of your pleasure to me.” San incites him, face so close, lips one breath away from touching.
Wooyoung throws his head back and spreads his legs wider, reaching down to fill his hole with three greedy fingers.
“It feels so good!” He screams, lost in his pleasure.
San keeps rubbing his face over Wooyoung’s softly, breathing in his scent and sharing his in return, whispering words of praise and encouragement.
Wooyoung’s hard erection bounces with the movement of his hips, angry red and drooling so much precum it created a messy sticky pool on his belly. But Wooyoung didn’t seem to want to touch it in the moment, all his efforts focused only on fucking himself with his fingers as hard and fast as he can.
“San, I’m so—so close!” Wooyoumg trembles.
San leans closer to whisper directly into Wooyoungs ear, “Do it, come for me.”
He circles San’s neck with his free arm in a vice grip, pulling the firefighter down, and buries his face in the crook of San’s neck. Wooyoung’s whole body shakes violently as he thrusts his fingers into himself with all his strength, as deep as he can, and comes like a wild train.
The broken scream he lets out shakes San to the bones.
San suddenly wakes up with a violent jolt, the scream still echoing inside his brain, the feeling of a teary cheek pressed to his neck lingering on his skin. He is out of breath and shivering, hair sticky to his sweaty forehead.
“Wooyoung.” San mumbles to himself as he slops down on the bed.
He feels a swirl of emotions taking over him. Confusion, apprehension, fear, sadness, desire—love, maybe. The situation is so tangled and unreal he feels completely lost. He had wanted to help Wooyoung, but he doesn’t even know how to help himself. He doesn’t even know if Wooyoung had actually wanted his help.
“I want to see you in real life, not only in my dreams.” San says, staring at his own hands resting on his lap.
Outside, the sun is starting to rise, the first streaks of light breaking the shadows of the night.
The entire day San feels hazy and a little out of touch with reality, his thoughts scattered all over the room, all over his life, all over the memory of Wooyoung. People come and go and talk to him, but he just mumbles his replies, with the pretense that he is tired and sleepy.
In the evening, the vampire doctor returns to check on him, but this time San doesn’t ask anything, barely answers the doctor’s questions. The doctor has a intrigued look on his face, that San, in his confusion, misses to perceive almost until he leaves.
“San.” He calls his name, and his tone is different from the clinical tone he was using before, during the examination.
“Yes, doctor.” San answers, looking up at the Doctor, and then he sees the glint in his eyes.
“Here.” He says in a deep and yet soft tone, taking a piece of paper from his coat pocket and leaving it on the bedside table.
Before San can even express a reaction, he says his goodbyes and leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
A foreboding feeling clutch San’s guts. With trembling fingers, he reaches out and grabs the paper.
It’s a simple yellow post it folded in half. When he opens it, there’s only one name and a phone number written in a wild calligraphy: Wooyoung.
San scrambles around to find his cellphone that was thrown somewhere and immediately types the phone number into his contacts. The surge of emotion and excitement is so big he can’t even think before he is already opening the message box and typing.
WOOYOUNG, he writes just the omega’s name in all capslock like some sort of lunatic. The second he hits send he realizes he maybe should have gone with a Hi or Hello before jumping to screaming the man’s name, but before he finishes this tray of thought, the ticks show that the message was seen, and Wooyoung reply comes in a second later.
SAN
And then the phone vibrates on his hand, signaling a phone call.
Like a drowning man grabbing a life jacket San answers the call right away.
“Hi.” San is proud of himself for now saying the appropriate thing.
“Hi San, how is your chest?” Wooyoung asks, and his voice has a soft quality to it that makes San feel as if he is being engulfed by a cloud and is drifting weightless through the air.
“How could I know? My doctor abandoned me.” San says playfully and is delighted by the loud cackle laughter he hears on the other side of the line.
“I thought doctor vampire would’ve been able to handle everything!” He continues the tomfoolery.
San laughs as his head turns upside down, because he realizes that he had called his current doctor doctor vampire in their latest dream, and Wooyoung is now casually making a reference to it. In real life. As if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
It’s not like San had doubts about the dreams, but listening confirmation from Wooyoung makes his heart clench.
“I mean, I guess he did handle me well, I don’t feel any pain anymore.”
“You got a strong heart, San.” Wooyoung says and it feels like so much. Like water overflowing a full cup.
“Wooyoung,” San calls his name, the mood of the conversation switching to something deeper, “I... I have so many things I want to say, to ask you, to tell you, I—” San gets overwhelmed by what he wants to say, and ends up just sighing in frustration.
Wooyoung goes silent for a few seconds on the other side of the line, and San is so nervous he could chew the walls.
“Me too, San,” Wooyoung ends up saying, still in the softest tone, “I don’t know what’s going on, and I think you don’t either but maybe... maybe we can figure it out together.”
If San could, he would scream and explode into the sun only with the power of the shout he wanted to let out.
“Yes! Please! I thought I was going crazy!” San says eagerly and chuckles, his chest and body feeling so light he might as well astral-project to Wooyoung’s side any second.
“I guess that make the two of us.” Wooyoung agrees, then adds in a more nervous voice, “Thank you, for what you did last night. You were thrown in the middle of my mess and you helped me. I really appreciate it.”
San knows what Wooyoung is talking about. In all its layers. It’s not just that he helped Wooyoung get off during a heat dream. It is that, but it’s also acknowledging their whole trajectory that culminated on that. Nothing about how they met was traditional. No one could have predicted any of that.
They had met by pure coincidence, they dreamt of each other over and over again, Wooyoung saved his life, then San helped him in one of his most vulnerable and intimate moments of his life. This was not the usually typical romance steps.
“I was happy to help you. I’m happy it was me.” San says genuinely, hoping Wooyoung would understand the heavy truthness of his words.
San can listen to Wooyoung smiling on the other side of the line.
Without being able to contain himself, San blurts out hurriedly, “When are you going to come back?!”
“Oh,” Wooyoung chuckles at San’s eagerness, “Maybe in two or three days, I need to make sure my heat is definitely over.”
“Are you going to still be my doctor?!” San is literally clutching the sheets over his chest as he asks.
Wooyoung takes a pause before answering.
“San, listen to me carefully, yes I'll still be your doctor, that’s why, whatever it is that we need to figure it out, it will have to wait until we are not in a doctor/patient relationship anymore.”
San is thrown in for a loop for a few seconds. The firefighter literally frowns and pouts as he makes the brain work necessary to understand what Wooyoung is talking about.
“Oh, ok! It’s ok, I understand.” San reassures, and continues in a more sheepish voice, “I’m just so happy I'll get so see you.”
Once again Wooyoung smiles through the line, “Ok, then... see you in a few days, I guess.”
“WAIT! Can I text you? Is that ok?” San asks desperately.
“Yes San, you can text me.” Wooyoung complies, his voice shaped in a warm smile.
“Ok, then... see you.”
They say their goodbyes and hang up.
After the sudden wave of endorphin that was talking to Wooyoung, San sleeps like a baby afterwards, a peaceful relaxing sleep.
When San wakes up, the first thing he does is grab his cellphone, and before he can type, a message is already there waiting for him.
Good morning, San.