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When it happens, it’s not the sharp and sudden pain at his temple that first catches Mingi’s attention. Instead, it’s the scent of pineapple, sweet and bright.
Mingi had tried a pineapple once, while visiting his cousin’s pack down in the south. They’d gone to the spring fair and a vendor had been enticing customers with samples of exotic fruits.
In a way, it’s fitting that Hongjoong’s scent is mostly pineapple, since he has always been like that to Mingi—tempting and just out of reach.
After Mingi smells Hongjoong, he feels him, the alpha standing on his toes to wrap his arms around Mingi’s neck and hug him tightly. Mingi, tall for anyone, but especially for an omega, ducks his head automatically, and Hongjoong brings an arm up to cradle the back of Mingi’s head.
“What happened?” Mingi asks, dazed.
“I’m so sorry,” Hongjoong says quietly into Mingi’s ear. He cups Mingi’s face with his hand and turns Mingi’s chin back and forth, checking for injury.
They stand there for a long moment, and Hongjoong’s gaze is heavy and apologetic as his eyes roam Mingi’s face. Mingi thinks he’s probably fine, that Hongjoong’s kick barely grazed his temple, but he’s so unused to the alpha’s complete attention—and so hungry for it—that he just stares blankly back at Hongjoong.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says again, his voice pitched low so that his words don’t carry. It’s nice, Mingi thinks, to have such focus from Hongjoong. He’d usually be too flustered at Hongjoong speaking to him to even glance at the other man, so maybe he really is concussed.
He says otherwise, though, when Hongjoong asks, sounding slightly desperate, if Mingi’s going to be alright.
“I think I kicked you pretty hard, you know.”
“I’m fine,” Mingi protests, “it’s fine.”
Hongjoong still has an arm around Mingi and it is not fine. He smells very good, and he’s a little sweaty after an afternoon of exercising out in the sun with the rest of the hunters, and Mingi might pass out if Hongjoong doesn’t stop looking at him like that.
“I practically begged you to show off,” Mingi admits after Hongjoong finally releases him. They’re standing two steps apart now, but it’s still close enough for Mingi to watch the pounding of Hongjoong’s pulse at his throat and appreciate the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Honestly, Mingi is so whipped for this man that Hongjoong simply existing is attractive to him.
“I wasn’t showing off,” Hongjoong argues sharply, his eyes squinting into a glare. Mingi pouts a little at the rebuke and the alpha instantly softens. “Okay, maybe a little,” Hongjoong concedes. “But you weren’t begging for it.”
Mingi doesn’t tell Hongjoong that he would happily beg the alpha for literally anything, but he does think it.
***
Mingi tries his best to focus on the knife in his hand as he chops vegetables for the stew he’s making, but he keeps distracting himself. He can’t help remembering how gently Hongjoong had handled Mingi after he kicked him: like Mingi was something delicate and precious. They’ve long since parted ways—Hongjoong home to wash up, and Mingi off to the communal kitchen to help out with dinner—but the memory of Hongjoong lingers. His overwhelming concern for Mingi’s wellbeing. The sensation of his hands on Mingi’s face and his fingers in Mingi’s hair. The way he’d smelled.
Mingi doesn’t mean to do it, but he can’t help himself. So when Hongjoong approaches him at the serving station and asks if he’s doing alright, Mingi just sort of…plays it up a little. If it gets Hongjoong to fawn over him again, a little white lie can’t hurt, right?
It’s only what Mingi’s rightfully owed, after all.
“I have a bit of a headache,” Mingi admits shyly. “Probably shouldn’t have come straight to work, but…” He trails off and shrugs like what can you do?
Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts immediately. “I’m taking you to the healers,” he says, reaching over the serving table to grab Mingi by the wrist.
His hand is small but warm, and Mingi is fascinated by how big his wrist looks in Hongjoong’s grip. The alpha’s fingers don’t even go all the way around! It’s too suggestive; Mingi is never going to be able to get that visual out of his head.
“Mingi,” Hongjoong’s voice pulls Mingi’s attention back to the present. He sounds insistent and his grip is firm, but Mingi doesn’t want to go to the healers because really, there’s nothing wrong with him.
“No, please don’t,” he pleads, not quite whining, but close. “I promise I’m fine. I don’t want to waste their time.”
Hongjoong frowns. “I hurt you,” he says. “Let me make it right.”
Mingi shakes his head, remembers he’s supposed to have a headache, then winces. Hongjoong’s eyes narrow.
There’s a part of Mingi that feels bad for manipulating Hongjoong like this, but it’s very small and very easily buried under the rest of Mingi. That Mingi feels like he’s floating on air from having the alpha’s attention all to himself. He pouts at Hongjoong and gives him his most pleading look.
“I’m sure I’ll sleep on it and wake up feeling just fine tomorrow. There’s no need to trouble anyone,” Mingi reiterates as convincingly as he can.
Hongjoong agrees, but with clear reluctance. “People have died overnight after a head injury,” he informs Mingi. “I won’t make you go, but I do think someone needs to keep an eye on you. I’ll talk to Seonghwa.”
He releases his hold on Mingi’s wrist and begins to walk away, then pauses suddenly and turns back around.
“Wait, no,” Hongjoong says. Mingi doesn’t know what’s going on, but he was sad to see Hongjoong go, and he’s not going to question whatever twist of fate has kept the alpha from leaving.
“Seonghwa will only scold you, since you should have gone to the healers immediately and you didn’t,” Hongjoong says pointedly. “But he’ll scold me even more for not making you go to the healers and for kicking you in the first place.” He shakes his head and shudders. “Better not to bother him.”
Mingi considers this. “You’re probably right, actually,” he agrees. Then, he offers, a bit unsure, “I can tell San if there’s an issue? I mean, you’re pretty busy, so I’m sure he’d be happy to watch out for me.”
Mingi’s nose catches a burst pineapple, overly sweet to the point of almost spoiled, and for a second Mingi almost thinks he hears a growl. But then Hongjoong’s expression smooths out and Mingi decides he must have imagined it.
“If anyone is going to watch over you,” Hongjoong declares, “it’s going to be me.”
Mingi must look as startled as he feels, because Hongjoong’s face flushes and he softens his tone.
“Look,” he says, sounding uncharacteristically insecure, “I don’t feel great about making your safety someone else’s concern. I’m the reason you need to be taken care of, and I think I’d feel a lot better if I just do it myself.”
“Oh, um,” Mingi hums, lost for words. “I don’t know what that means. You’re going to take care of me? How?”
“I’m going to watch over you,” Hongjoong says again. “And I’m going to stay the night at your place to do it.”
Mingi’s life flashes before his eyes as he tries to remember the state in which he’d left his room that morning. “We don’t really have the space,” he tries to argue, but Hongjoong shakes his head.
“I’ll just sleep with you,” he decides.
“With me?” Mingi squeaks. “You can’t sleep with me! What if Wooyoung sees you leaving my room in the morning?”
Hongjoong smirks. “We’re unmated—hell, we’re not even courting!—and yet you’re more worried about what people will say than what might happen if we share a bed?”
Though the concept itself is shocking, that issue is something Mingi is not worried about at all.
“I trust you,” he says with a shrug. “I know I’m safe with you, no matter what.”
***
After dinner, Mingi finds himself trailing after Hongjoong on the way to his home. He’s not quite sure why he’s following the alpha instead of leading the way—it is Mingi’s house, after all. But Mingi likes being close to Hongjoong like this, and he lets himself imagine a different scenario, one where he’s following his mate to the home they share, and they’re living happily together in another life.
He trips, and the jarring sensation of falling yanks Mingi out of his daydream. Thankfully, Hongjoong catches him before he hits the ground, and Mingi can barely mutter out a bashful “Thank you,” through the waves of embarrassment.
Hongjoong frowns. “You still seem pretty out of it.”
“I’m just clumsy,” Mingi admits, “not concussed.” Then he remembers, again, that he’s supposed to be acting, and adds, “ Probably not concussed, I mean.”
“Probably,” Hongjoong echoes. Mingi can’t see his face, but he thinks Hongjoong is smiling.
When they get to the cabin that Mingi shares with Seonghwa and his mate Wooyoung, Hongjoong steps onto the porch and raises his fist to knock. Before he can, the door swings open and Seonghwa steps into the doorway.
“No alphas allowed,” he says. His smile is sweet but his voice is sharp.
Hongjoong looks behind Seonghwa into the living room and notices San sitting on the couch. “San’s an alpha too!” he protests indignantly, and there’s that whiff of rotten pineapple again. “This is blatant favoritism.”
Seonghwa looks pointedly at Mingi. “Yes, it is,” he agrees. “Now leave.”
“I’m the alpha heir,” Hongjoong reminds Seonghwa through gritted teeth. “I go where I’m needed. You can’t just kick me out.”
“Oh?” Seonghwa mocks. “I wonder if the head alpha knows that his precious heir abuses his power so shamelessly.”
Hongjoong steps forward aggressively, and then many things happen at once. First, Seonghwa moves to meet him, so that they stand in the doorway of the house, chest to chest. Second, San rises from the couch and starts for the door, while Mingi, at the same time, leaps onto the porch and puts as much of his body between Hongjoong and Seonghwa as he can.
“There’s no need to fight!” he cries. They’re all uncomfortably close to one another, so his words are painfully loud to their overly sensitive ears, and everyone winces.
“There’s no need to fight,” Mingi says again, softly this time. “He’s just here to keep an eye on me since—” he trails off, briefly weighs the pros and cons of telling the overprotective, older omega that Hongjoong kicked him, however gently, in the head, and reconsiders. “Anyway, Hongjoong doesn’t see me like that, as an omega,” Mingi reminds Seonghwa. “There will be no funny business, I promise.”
Seonghwa glares at Hongjoong, but finally lets him pass, then reaches up to pat Mingi on the top of the head.
“My house would be better than this,” Hongjoong mutters.
San, still hovering next to the couch, snorts in amusement and sits back down. “You forget that I live there too,” he says. “I wouldn’t even take an omega I hated to that pigsty. Mingi deserves better than that .”
“I don’t need you to tell me what Mingi deserves,” Hongjoong grumbles defensively. He grabs Mingi’s wrist and tugs him away from the living room, even though he doesn’t actually know where he’s going. It’s clear to everyone that he’s just trying to escape, and honestly, Mingi can relate.
“That’s funny,” Seonghwa says, “because I’m pretty sure you gave him a concussion. Or was that some other knothead alpha who kicked my baby in the temple today?”
Hongjoong’s eyes narrow. “I’m making it right,” he says. “I’m taking care of him.”
“Good,” Seonghwa agrees with a sharp nod. “You’d better.”
At last they make it to Mingi’s room, and he groans in relief as soon as the door closes behind them.
“That was torture,” Mingi complains, flopping face down on his bed. “I know you know that Seonghwa’s not usually like that. I don’t know why he was so worried about me.”
“I don’t think it’s you he was worried about,” Hongjoong mutters.
Mingi lifts his head from the bed. “What was that?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Hongjoong says as he crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed next to Mingi. “How are you doing, by the way? Does your head hurt at all? Things got pretty intense out there for a minute.”
“‘M fine,” Mingi mumbles into his pillow.
“You don’t seem fine,” Hongjoong says softly. He runs a hand soothingly down Mingi’s back, then back up to rest on Mingi’s nape. Mingi melts into the mattress like butter, completely relaxed.
“Bed’s pretty small,” Mingi says after a few minutes. His words are practically incoherent with how much of a human puddle he’s become, and Hongjoong has to put his face close to Mingi’s to hear him.
“That’s alright,” Hongjoong soothes. “I can work with small.”
There’s probably an innuendo in there somewhere, but Mingi is too putty to find it.
“Speaking of beds,” Hongjoong adds, “it’s time to get you into yours.” He shifts so that he’s kneeling next to Mingi’s torso, puts one hand under Mingi’s shoulder and one hand on Mingi’s waist, and flips Mingi over with a single push.
Instantly, arousal replaces Mingi’s relaxation.
Hongjoong continues, seeming not to notice the way that Mingi’s suddenly half-hard and very awake. “C’mon,” he urges, reaching down with both hands to grasp the waistband of Mingi’s linen pants. “These can’t be comfortable to sleep in.”
They are , actually, but Mingi’s too flustered to say so. And anyway, they’re in Mingi’s bedroom, on Mingi’s bed, and Hongjoong is undressing him? This is not the moment to debate the merits of pajamas.
Maybe Mingi has a concussion after all.
Despite his better judgment, Mingi lifts his hips when Hongjoong tugs insistently, and allows the alpha to slide off his pants. For a moment, Mingi lays there in his shirt and his underwear in disbelief, while Hongjoong, fully clothed and seemingly unaffected, hovers over him.
Speaking of Hongjoong: “Arms up,” the alpha commands, reaching for the hem of Mingi’s shirt. “I’ve heard that head injuries can affect your equilibrium. I know it’s summer, but I’d hate for you to get hot in the night.”
Mingi’s fairly certain Hongjoong just made that excuse up on the spot. But he can’t figure out why, is the thing, so he obeys. He wants to see where this goes, how far Hongjoong is willing to take whatever game he’s playing.
If he’s even playing a game. Shit, maybe he really is just concerned about Mingi’s welfare and is taking care of him out of a misplaced sense of responsibility. Maybe Mingi’s the one making it weird.
Mingi, now completely naked except for his underwear, opens his mouth to confess that he’s fine, actually, then closes it again when he can’t find the words. How do you even say, Hey, sorry for misleading you into thinking you caused me actual physical harm, but I’m in love with you and I’ll take any excuse for us to be together, even something as terrible as this ?
Exactly. You don’t.
Mingi sighs.
Hongjoong’s eyes snap up to meet Mingi’s and immediately narrow in concern. “You’re really out of it, aren’t you?” he murmurs. He swings a knee over Mingi’s torso so that he’s straddling Mingi’s lap, then brings a hand up to cup Mingi’s cheek gently. He rubs his thumb across Mingi’s cheekbone and says, “This is all my fault.”
It is, but not in the way he’s thinking. Did he really need to be that close to Mingi’s dick? At this point, Mingi’s more than half-hard, and he’s starting to feel a little hazy at being taken care of so well, even though Hongjoong obviously doesn’t mean his actions in the way that Mingi wants him to.
Like Mingi had said to Seonghwa earlier, Hongjoong may be an alpha to Mingi, but Mingi knows he’s not an omega to Hongjoong.
“I think I should go to sleep,” Mingi says haltingly. He’s sure that Hongjoong can feel his erection, even through the fabric of his pants—which makes this possibly the most mortifying moment of Mingi’s life, by the way—but Hongjoong seems unfazed.
Instead, Hongjoong takes his hands off Mingi’s face and reaches for the bottom of his own shirt.
“You’re right. It’s bedtime,” Hongjoong says. “Let me just get comfortable real quick.”
Evidently, comfortable for the alpha means he quickly gets just as (mostly) naked as he’s made Mingi. On the one hand, this is the best thing that’s ever happened in Mingi’s life, and he really hopes he’s not concussed because if he somehow forgets this moment, Mingi is going to cry . On the other hand, Hongjoong has to get off Mingi’s lap to take his pants off, and Mingi does cry at that, actually, but only a little, and only because Mingi had been so tantalizingly close to getting what he’s always wanted that the letdown is a little bit painful.
“I’m so sorry, Mingi,” Hongjoong says, when he notices the streak of a tear as it drips down Mingi’s face. “I just keep hurting you.”
“I’m okay!” Mingi tries his best to reassure Hongjoong, but his voice wavers as Hongjoong climbs back onto the bed to kneel on top of him.
“You don’t sound okay,” Hongjoong says skeptically. “But I have heard skin-to-skin contact can help.” Then he stops kneeling, and sits down.
“That’s for hypothermia!” Mingi yelps.
He knows Hongjoong can’t be this dumb. There’s no way. Add that to the fact that he can feel that Hongjoong is not unaffected—that he’s hard too—and Mingi’s got a math problem on his hands.
It is difficult to do mental gymnastics with his brain melting out of his ears, but Mingi tries his best. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?”
“I would never,” Hongjoong denies. He sounds so sincere that Mingi would be inclined to believe him if Hongjoong were not, at that very same moment, grinding very intentionally down on Mingi’s dick.
“You’re hurt, Mingi,” Hongjoong adds. The hint of condescension in his tone makes Mingi’s dick twitch and his toes curl, and isn’t that a surprising turn of events. “I’m just trying to help you feel better.”
“I’m not hurt!” Mingi whines indignantly. “I’m fine! That kick barely even clipped me!”
“I fucking know , you asshole,” Hongjoong snaps. Mingi’s mouth drops open in shock and Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Mingi. Skin-to-skin contact, really?”
“I knew you were making shit up!”
“You’re very lovably dumb,” Hongjoong says. The condescension is back, stronger this time, and Mingi has to bite his lip to hold in a whimper.
“‘M not,” Mingi denies, but his protest is half-hearted. He’s lying and they both know it.
Hongjoong leans forward so that he’s laying on top of Mingi. He brushes his lips across Mingi’s mouth, and whispers, “Whatever you say, princess.” And then they’re kissing.
It’s wet, and messy, and there are teeth involved because Hongjoong is very pointy and Mingi is very into that, and it’s so good that Mingi almost starts to cry again.
He doesn’t, though, which is probably for the best because Hongjoong really seems like the “I’ll give you something to cry about” type, and if that turns out to be true, Mingi might die. He’s barely surviving as it is.
They kiss for what seems like hours, but every time things get too heated, Hongjoong redirects, moving to nibble at Mingi’s pulse point or press feathery light kisses against Mingi’s jawline.
Mingi is two seconds away from thinking that Hongjoong doesn’t want to have sex with him, when Hongjoong pulls away and sits up.
“You know,” Hongjoong says conversationally, like he didn’t just have his tongue down Mingi’s throat and his fingers on Mingi’s nipples, “I’m not sure you deserve to get fucked tonight.”
Mingi pouts. “I thought you told San that I deserve good things.”
“No,” Hongjoong argues, reaching up to tweak Mingi’s nose playfully, “I told San that I don’t need him to tell me what you deserve, because I already know. And don’t mention another alpha when I’m literally naked on top of you. Especially not San .”
“Since you’re clearly unaware,” Mingi teases, “San has been courting Seonghwa and Wooyoung for months now. Also, you could stand to be a little more naked, in my opinion.”
“Omegas who pretend to be injured in order to seduce hapless alphas into their beds don’t get opinions.”
Mingi snorts in amusement. “In that case, alphas who are so easily seduced don’t get to come.”
Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “You really wanna go there, princess?”
“Maybe I do.”
***
In the end, they both come, and everyone is quite happy with this outcome.
Except maybe Wooyoung, who walks into the kitchen the next morning to see Mingi seated on the counter with Hongjoong standing between his legs as they make out.
“My eyes!” the omega shrieks. “You promised Hwa no funny business!”
“We’re courting,” Hongjoong says primly. “This is perfectly proper.”
“Wait,” Mingi says, “we are?”
Hongjoong smirks. “Aren’t we?”