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Dizzying, screaming delight. An unrelenting wave of it, as hot and intense as the bright stage lights beaming down on them from every direction. Rows and rows of jumping, screeching, laughing, crying, waving fans as far as the eye can see, as relieved as they are energized, a unique feeling shared between the ones on the stage and the ones looking up at them.
Seungkwan is panting, sweating, being jostled by his members as he makes his way to the back of the stage, his limbs are jelly, but his footing is firm, and his chest is warm, and he could go another ten rounds of Aju Nice, or even a hundred. He really could. He wants to, but he’s also relieved it’s coming to an end.
Satisfied. The fans are happy, and the members are happy, and he’s happy. Seungkwan waves his hand up at the stands, blinking into the light, he can’t see anyone out there, but they can see him, and that’s what’s important.
He's won again. Every concert, every day like this, with his members at his side, is a victory, and these bows are his victory lap, and these screams are his prize.
There’s a glimmering in Seungkwan’s periphery. He doesn’t have to turn his head to look, he’s more than familiar with the warm, sweet scent billowing in waves off the omega to his side like he’s standing next to a bakery’s oven.
Jihoon is glowing. It’s almost obscene how bare he is right now to the world, Seungkwan wonders if the carats in the front rows might even be able to catch his scent. The omega might as well be holding up a sign that projects exactly how he’s feeling: Jihoon is tired, and warm, and happy. He’s in love – with carats, with the members, with his life. He’s won, too.
That only satisfies Seungkwan even more. Standing beside this glowing omega as he takes his bow is only more of a prize, isn’t it? As the doors of the stage begin to close on either side of them, two thoughts occur to the alpha at the same time. Well, actually the same thought, but for two different reasons. There’s a prize he could take that would make this moment even more satisfying. And, it would be even more satisfying to take this prize for himself.
Seungkwan doesn’t hesitate, now that he’s made up his mind. He finds the stage camera and looks directly into it as he licks his lips. Then he turns on Jihoon, cupping one of the omega’s cheeks in his palm and bracing the other on the small of his back. Jihoon doesn’t flinch away from his grasp, he quirks his eyebrows up at Seungkwan slightly and keeps smiling, oh, good omega, welcoming and pliant in his arms.
Seungkwan pulls Jihoon into a kiss, eclipsing the omega’s body with his own, cutting him off from the fans and the cameras and the lights, taking him from them and all for himself just before the stage doors slip closed. It’s as satisfying as Seungkwan knew it would be. Jihoon giggles against his lips as he’s kissed, surprised but not upset. If Seungkwan’s taking him, that makes him the prize. He’s won, too.
Jihoon doesn’t really go for alphas, at least that’s what any alpha would tell you, dejectedly, with a pout and maybe rubbing at a recently shoved shoulder. Well that’s fine, because Seungkwan doesn’t really go for omegas. Like everything else in life he makes it more difficult for himself than maybe it needs to be. Seungkwan wants to best the besters – omegas are born to be bested, there isn’t as much fun in that, not as much to sink his teeth into, not like the meat of an alpha. Jihoon is a peach between his teeth now, juicy, soft, and intoxicatingly sweet.
“Get a room,” A member scoffs nearby and earns a few snickers from the others, but they might as well be calling up to them from ten stories below, so untouchable Seungkwan feels, with Jihoon in his grasp. The air, already electric with sweat and energy and satisfaction from another concert complete, is astringent with little pangs of jealousy now too, and Seungkwan’s stomach swoops pleasantly at the realization that there are other ways to best the besters.
Jihoon isn’t just a trophy, of course, except that he wants to be, sometimes, and so obviously, too, though it often seems like only Seungkwan can tell when his hyung is in that kind of mood. After all, even a trophy is valuable, a precious thing, pretty and expensive, desired, fought over, a prize. Jihoon is all that and more, and undoubtedly it feels good to have an alpha reaffirm that for him every once in a while.
“Cutie-hyung, I wanna just eat you up,” Seungkwan whines directly in Jihoon’s ear, and he really means it, that’s the frustration with omegas, how gentle he must be no matter how much he wants to push and scratch and bite at this thrilling and wonderful little thing, lest he bruise the soft peach.
He captures the omega in a backhug, not willing to let him escape his grasp just yet though Jihoon has turned to try and start making his way offstage with the others. Seungkwan hangs himself heavy on Jihoon’s back and shoulders, swaying him this way and that with his arms curled around the omega’s middle, allowing a few clunky steps in the direction of backstage but taking his time, meandering, making it clear they will go where and when he wants.
Jihoon huffs out a laugh, a little exasperated, and takes Seungkwan’s direction, since there really is no escape anyway. He turns his head to nudge his cheek into Seungkwan’s own where it’s tucked on his shoulder, mimicking how he would often shove alphas away, though this was more a gentle nuzzle.
Seungkwan grins to himself and nuzzles Jihoon right back as he leads them to the stage door and into the back hallways. He’s getting the appeal of pouncing Jihoon after a show, as the other members often do. The omega is so relaxed and pleased, his whole body is jelly in Seungkwan’s arms, soft and compliant, unfussy. And Jihoon can be so fussy. But the show has wrung him out thoroughly, he has no fight left in him, and he’s satisfied.
“Are you a permanent attachment?” Jihoon laughs, tilting his head to try and peer back at Seungkwan, definitely curious as to why this is all happening. “And did you really have to do that in front of carats?”
“No, but I wanted to.” Seungkwan answers simply, and maybe it’s the directness of it, but JIhoon’s ears go even more red than they already were. Sweet omega, perfect prize that he is. Seungkwan turns his face to scent Jihoon, drinking in the pleased omega scent direct from the source at the gland - and the tiny chirp from Jihoon he earns for scenting him.
They enter the dressing rooms like that, glowing and moving as one, and Seungkwan actually laughs out loud at how pissed off many of the members seem about it. In the end poor Jihoon really is just stuck in a pack of dogs, Seungkwan realizes with amusement as he leads the way over to the makeup removal table and past clouds and clouds of sulking, jealous, pouty scents that can’t be masked by the more diplomatically neutral expressions of the members. And he doesn’t mind counting himself among them, either. Woof.
“Jihoonie Jihoonie~ I’m collecting the mic packs~” Seokmin approaches with a song and a smile, bouncing into the pair’s space, but Seungkwan pulls their vobo dramatically tighter against his chest and growls territorially - a joke, nothing like the real thing, though Seokmin looks offended just the same, playing up his expression just as dramatically because he’s a good comedian, and Seungkwan laughs too, but mostly at the way so many of the other members’ heads whipped over at his noise.
Jihoon clicks his tongue and gently extracts himself from Seungkwan’s grasp as he scolds, “Bratty alpha.” He purses his lips in disapproval up at Seungkwan like a teacher might, but still smiles, ears still pink as he turns for Seokmin and lets the alpha busy himself extracting his micpack for him.
Seungkwan just watches the pair, somewhat mystified. Bratty alpha, in that honey sweet voice. It sounds pretty different than when coming from, say, Seungcheol, or an exasperated manager. Did Jihoon really think that could scold him at all? Did he even want it to? If Seungkwan growls for him, will he say it again?
Seungkwan blinks and realizes Jihoon is peeking over at him with a little smile, even with Seokmin’s hands up his shirt. Seungkwan swallows thick. Good omega. He’s won, too.
Seungkwan’s feed is nothing but the clip of him kissing Jihoon for days. All different angles, all different speeds, all different sentiments - thrill, disgust, jealousy, encouragement. Suggestions. Theories. Seungkwan is an alpha after all, and Jihoon is an omega.
Good thing Seungkwan doesn’t go for omegas. And Jihoon doesn’t go for alphas. Things might end up differently, if they did.