Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You did what?” Mobei Jun growls, unable to keep his cool as his uncle gleefully informs him of his next terrible idea to fuck with him. 

“I got you a present, zhi zi. A husband.” Linguang Jun looks like a kid on Christmas day with how happy he is, if happy kids looked like a narcissistic sociopath. “A cute little male omega. He looks like a little hamster, you can’t help but just want to squeeze him to death. The contracts have been signed. Your first meeting is this afternoon. It’s time to consider continuing on the legacy of this family. You know how much the board considers children one of the few true ways to ensure the success of this company.”

Among the board members’ many other archaic ideals, that is the one they bring up the most frequently. If Mobei Jun could kick every person over sixty off the board he would, but then there would be no board. And the bylaws of the company require a board. Would it be so bad if he stood up and walked out of this office, of this building, forever? 

This isn’t the first time Mobei Jun has seriously considered giving it all up. Is a legacy really worth this much pain and aggravation? Is this what his father wanted for him, a life as his uncle’s play thing? But then what would all of this torture have been for? He has to have something to show for it in the end, right?

“I’m not marrying anyone you arranged for me, you can’t think I ever would. Not after what you did.”

The thought curls in his gut, the agony and longing he’s experienced every day since that night feels like an avalanche crashing down on him, burying him beneath a hundred feet of snow. Every single moment he’s reminded of waking up alone, his mate gone, he feels it all over again. He doesn’t even remember what his mate looks like, thanks to the drug.

“It’s not my fault you’re a feral alpha who can’t control their urges. What a disgrace.” He’s smiling, the sick fuck is smiling while casually ignoring the fact he drugged Mobei Jun that night, even confessed to it over the phone before Mobei Jun was lost in rut haze, not that he could ever prove it to take legal action. “It's for this reason that nobody wants you. I’m doing you a favor here.” The manipulative grin slashes across his sharp face, turning dark. “ I’ll make you a deal. Marry him, and I’ll give you the rights to your last five patents.”

Mobei Jun’s fingers curl into his thighs, his rage spiking, his scent threatening to break free of his carefully maintained control. For years he’s worked for what used to be his father’s company, fought his way to the top, earned his masters and PHD degrees, contributed to the ideation and production of top of the line tech products and software the company has originated. But everything he’s made, even if it was built outside of company time, according to Mobei Jun’s contract, is the intellectual property of the company. To have the rights to his own work back, would allow him to continue his efforts, his passion projects, and progress his research out of the shadow of his uncle. 

“The last ten patents,” he haggles, might as well go for broke. 

Linguang Jun scratches his beard dramatically, playing with Mobei Jun as usual. “Five when you meet him. The other five when you announce your engagement.”

“Deal.”

Five is better than nothing. No way in hell will he be marrying this person, not when his mate is out there somewhere.

“Perfect, he should be here already with his father. I’ve reserved the large conference room.” Linguang Jun offers a folder to Mobei Jun, already containing the details of the patent ownership transfer, clearly anticipating Mobei Jun wouldn’t have said no to this deal. “In case you’re wondering, I reserved the large room because I wanted to give you space in case his scent is too much for you. I know how sensitive you’ve been since…you drove your mate away.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t respond, just takes the transfer rights to the patents, and makes his way to the meeting room. The large conference room is a fucking fishbowl, big glass windows for everyone in open work spaces to get a front row seat to his humiliation. Not that this hasn’t happened before. He’s used to being his uncle’s punching bag. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, using every tactic he can to maintain his calm. He refuses to give his uncle any more reasons to demand his removal from the company on the basis of incompetency or his inability to control his alpha instincts. Whether Linguang Jun likes it or not, Mobei Jun is the rightful CEO to the company, as stated in his father’s final wishes. However, to become the true CEO, Mobei Jun needs a majority vote of confidence by the board, and his uncle has a majority of the board members in his pocket. Every time Mobei’s leadership is put to a vote, they keep deeming him inadequate.

As Mobei Jun passes the reception desk and approaches the conference room, his breathing even and controlled, a lingering scent wafts its way toward him, one putting him on the alert. It’s familiar, like a distant memory, but he can’t place it over the pinched anger and frustration mingling with the scent, turning it acidic. It’s definitely omega, probably his prospective betrothed.

Through the clear glass of the room he can see two people in the conference room. A tall, slim man with thinning hair, pacing the length of the table, gesturing wildly and rambling about something Mobei Jun can’t hear beyond the sound proof glass. His suit is ill fitting, and a hideous olive green color. The white shirt beneath is stained and looks like it's seen one too many nights at the bar. Mobei Jun has a sick feeling he knows how this marriage contract came about.

Mobei Jun looks to the opposite end of the table. A smaller figure with hunched shoulders, arguing back against the other man’s speech. He has a slight figure, possibly too thin, his delicate hands and wrists a little angular for Mobei Jun’s liking. Those hands are gesturing just as fiercely as his companion, pointing to himself, to the tall man, and to his neck. He clearly wants to be here as much as Mobei Jun does. Good. This will end quickly and without anyone’s feelings getting hurt. He’ll walk in there, tell them he’s mated, and that the arrangement is a misunderstanding, then walk out with five precious patents returned to him. Only some humiliation the cost.

Mobei Jun opens the door, ready to get this over with, and walks in on the tail end of the taller man’s speech. 

“You will do this for me if you are a filial son–” His self righteous diatribe is quickly and fiercely interrupted by Mobei Jun’s prospective fiance.

“It’s illegal to sell omegas into marriage contracts. This isn’t the fucking 1800s. If you think you can give me to the first asshole who promises to pay your debt you’re…” his voice trails off as something catches his attention. He quickly turns around, spotting Mobei Jun, frozen in the doorway.

The younger man, the omega, is wearing a hoodie and jeans, completely uncaring of his state of dress. His hair is a mass of curls reaching just the center of his ears, his lips are plump and small, shaped into a perfect bow. His cheeks are round, like a chipmunk’s, made to store food–he loathes his uncle with every fiber of his being but he wasn’t wrong there, the guy is cute–and his eyes are a mix of dark and light browns, large and expressive. 

But what catches Mobei Jun off guard, what makes the decision for him that he will be saying yes to the preposterous marriage contract no matter what happens in this room, is the man’s scent. The muted scent from the hallway is now permeating the room. Hazelnut and coffee, books and ink. It’s sultry and stimulating, soothing and intriguing. It’s perfection, and seeks out Mobei Jun like the need for a fire on a cold night. 

He watches as the man’s eyes widen, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. He knows. He can smell Mobei Jun’s scent going wild. Which only confirms what Mobei Jun knew the second he stepped in the room. This man is his mate. The person he mated with over two years ago on that awful night when he was drugged, and woke up mated with no idea to who, the other person gone before he could get a name or phone number. Another fucking gift from his uncle. That nightmare has haunted him every day, and the only thing keeping him going is the thought, the drive, that his mate is out there and he will find him. 

Mobei Jun has felt unbalanced and incomplete for two years. He and his mate were more than just compatible, they were possibly true mates. Usually, if a bond is weak and the two don’t suit, the bond has the ability to fade if it isn’t reinforced regularly. This bond hasn’t faded, not even a little over two years. The teeth marks in Mobei Jun’s neck, covering his scent gland are as dark and pronounced as they were the first day he woke up with them. This small, beautiful man is meant for him.

Mobei Jun won’t let him run away. 

“What are you doing blocking the door, zhi zi?” His uncle pushes his way inside. “Come, meet Shang Yu and his son…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Shang Qinghua,” he says, his eyes not moving from Mobei Jun’s face. 

“Qinghua, yes, what a lovely name for my nephew’s betrothed.”

Qinghua narrows his eyes at this, seemingly still unhappy about the possibility he would need to marry. The sobering thought strikes Mobei Jun out of his celebratory haze. Of course, why would this man want to marry someone who forcibly mated him? Fuck. What was Mobei Jun even thinking? 

“Let’s sit and discuss the contract then we can leave these two alone to get to know each other better.”

Mobei Jun takes a seat at least ten spots away from Shang Qinghua, giving him room to breathe and space to move, so he doesn’t feel trapped. He purposefully does not block the door. Qinghua’s eyes skitter nervously toward the exit, before landing back on Mobei Jun. He nods, acknowledging the gesture, before returning his attention to Linguang Jun.

His uncle is prattling on about the importance of a good marriage and the value of connections and blah blah Mobei Jun doesn’t give a fuck. Shang Qinghua. His name is Shang Qinghua. What is he feeling about this whole situation? Does he think it was a setup to bring him to Mobei Jun? He wouldn’t blame the omega for not wanting to enter into a marriage with him, but Mobei Jun hopes he’ll stay long enough for Mobei Jun to explain what happened that night and to at least apologize. Shame fills him, thinking he possibly forced this man into mating with him. Was he scared? Did Mobei Jun hurt him? How could he even dare to ask his forgiveness, let alone ask him to stay and be his mate in truth? 

A chill runs up his spine as his uncle gets louder, standing at the head of the table, pontificating like he’s a god making decrees from the heavenly kingdom.

Does his uncle know? Can he sense the tension between Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun? Did he know that Qinghua was his mate and he’s brought him here to dangle it in front of him? No, it can’t be possible. Mobei Jun never told him anything about that night, not willing to give him the satisfaction, only letting Linguang Jun assume what happened as he could no longer smell Mobei Jun, except in cases of high emotion, which only meant one thing. He mated as a result of the drug his uncle so carelessly slipped him, not caring for the consequences or who it would hurt.

Mobei Jun has been in agony the past two years, and Linguang Jun knows this. There is no way he would provide Mobei Jun with a way to end that agony. Not for free at least.

“Nephew, aren’t you interested in how this contract came about?”

“Intrigued,” Mobei Jun answers, keeping his tone monotonous, hiding his eagerness to get Shang Qinghua alone. He embodies an ice block, refusing to let his uncle see how Shang Qinghua’s presence has affected him.

“Shang Yu here, is a associate of mine. You know one branch of our business involves business loans. Well my associate here has not been able to make payment recently, and the debt is due to be passed on to collections.”

Ah. Here comes the humiliation. His uncle is proposing a marriage contract to save a debtor, someone so low they would offer up their own child. The shame in such a marriage would follow Mobei Jun his whole career, especially with the pretentious trust fund pricks he works with in corporate circles.

“We thought a way to erase his debt would be to join his unmarried omega son with you,” his uncle continues. “I know how hard it's been for you to find a partner over the past couple years…your feral nature making the rounds among our inner circles.”

Yes, please continue rhapsodizing how no one is willing to touch Mobei Jun with a ten foot pole after his uncle spread the rumor he forcibly mated someone. 

“Ah, it is the same for Qinghua,” The useless Shang Yu butts in. “I am afraid Qinghua has turned recessive. I can barely smell him anymore. But I assure you, his fertility should be just as good.”

Qinghua covers his face in his hands, then rests them on the table, mumbling to himself. Mobei Jun can see his ears turning beat red. Would it be acceptable to throw the water pitcher at that shitty father’s head?

“Ah, recessivity is nothing to be ashamed of, Shang Qinghua.” Linguang Jun is fucking loving this. “By accepting the marriage proposal, you are not only fulfilling your filial duty as a son, but you are joining an esteemed and respected family, who’s first and only son has been…shall we say…incapable of finding his own mate.”

“See, Qinghua?” The shitty father claps his son on his shoulder and Mobei Jun uses every ounce of willpower left in his body to not jump across the table and body slam the fucker for how tight he’s squeezing. The anger in Qinghua’s scent fades, replaced with nerves and fear. “This is so much better than what you thought, right? Mobei Jun looks like an upstanding gentleman.” he turns to Mobei Jun, his receding hairline highlighting his sweaty brow. “He was nervous coming here, but I told him the alternatives for a recessive omega were much worse.”

The implication is clear. Do this or suffer the consequences. Mobei Jun is going to end this man.

“It seems these two were meant to be,” Linguang Jun claims jovially. “Let’s leave them to it while we discuss the finer points of your debt.”

Mobei Jun watches as Shang Qinghua’s father and his uncle leave the conference room, their slimy grins putting Mobei Jun’s teeth on edge. Shang Qinghua starts to speak once the door closes but Mobei Jun puts his hand up.

“Wait until they’re gone.”

Qinghua looks over his shoulder, watching as his father and Linguang Jun retreat slowly…too slowly down the hall, probably hoping to catch some dramatics…or waiting for Mobei Jun to fucking attack the omega for no reason. 

Once they retreat behind Linguang Jun’s office door, Mobei Jun turns back to Shang Qinghua and with as much humility as he can possibly muster says “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Qinghua says at the same time. 

“What?” Mobei Jun asks, startled by Qinghua’s words. “What can you possibly be sorry for? I forcibly mated you.”

“Fuck,” Shang Qinghua runs his hands through his mass of curls, his face pinched. “I thought your memory might be shit after that night. You didn’t force me to do anything. I explained it to you before the drug kicked in, and figured I would explain it to you again once you called…but then you didn’t call so I couldn’t really correct any assumptions you had.”

“Call.” Mobei Jun is having trouble keeping up, his world turning upside down. “How would I have called? You left without a word.”

“I had to get to work and you were still asleep, I didn’t want to wake you. I left my phone number with my name on a notepad by the bed.”

“I–I didn’t see a notepad.”

“Fuck. Well that sucks.” His eyes trained on the table, unseeing as the realization hits him “We’ve been like this for two years and it could have been avoided.”

Mobei Jun has so many questions, but this first one he needs answered immediately. “Explain what you meant by I didn’t forcibly mate you.” He speaks slowly, his adrenaline spiking. He recounts that night as he knows it be. “I was drugged to go into a rut. I couldn’t control my urges, and I found the first person, the first omega that smelled good, and dragged you to a hotel room.”

Qinghua sighs, shaking his head. He places both his hands on the table, as if he’s reaching toward Mobei Jun. “Do you really think you had enough wherewithal to call a DiDi to a hotel, get and pay for a room, take the elevator to said room, and proceed to mate me? You were barely holding it together.” He takes a deep breath, then speaks just as slowly as Mobei Jun had. “Listen. I heard your phone conversation with your uncle telling you about the drug. I knew what would happen. I chose you.”

“Why would you subject yourself to that?” Did this man have a death wish?

“Because I was in that bar looking for a heat partner.” he squeezes his eyes shut, as if trying to erase uncomfortable memories from his brain, before continuing. “I have a rare condition that makes my heats unbearably painful if I don’t spend it with a partner. Like agonizingly painful on the verge of possible death due to a heart attack.”

Mobie Jun can’t imagine what that must feel like. “That sounds awful.”

“Yes. It is. In your last moment of cognizance I approached you, told you about my condition, and my willingness to participate in your rut.” Shang Qinghua taps the table to make his point clear. “You helped me. It was one of the best and least painful heats I’ve ever had.”

“I bonded you,” Mobei Jun says incredulously. “I’m sure I knotted you multiple times. You could have gotten pregnant.”

“I’m on very strong birth control so don’t worry about that.” Shang Qinghua waves the concern away with ease. “And I knew the bonding was a possibility. I figured it would fade after a while.” he glances up at Mobei Jun from beneath his long eyelashes, his confidence waning. “Except it didn’t. And the bonding felt…good. Really good. It felt right. That’s why I should be apologizing to you. I took advantage of your situation.”

Mobei Jun shakes his head and squeezes Shang Qinghua’s hand, disagreeing vehemently. “I might have attacked someone if you didn’t. I’m grateful. It’s unfortunate how it happened, but I don’t feel upset that it did. You gave me the best solution for a fucked situation. I don’t regret it.”

Qinghua nods, looking unconvinced. Mobei Jun promises himself they’ll talk about this more later.

“Do you usually find someone to spend your heats with?” Mobei Jun asks, never having heard of this condition before, but to be fair, alphas aren’t taught much about the tribulations of omega bodies. 

“Yes, I have to. But…I haven’t since we bonded. I couldn’t. Even the thought made me sick to my stomach.”

Mobei Jun freezes, the reality of Shang Qinghua’s situation an arrow in his gut.

“You’ve been in pain all this time, your heats agonizing, because I didn’t see that piece of paper.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“How can I not?” He practically growls. “My mate has been in pain because I haven’t been with you. It’s my fault.”

“Listen,” Shang Qinghua’s ferocity returns, his brows furrowed, and he’s practically leaning half his body over the table. “I’m not one for self pitying or self sacrificing, at least not anymore. I knew the risks and I still chose you . And now that I see you again, and I know your name, and I can feel how right your scent is, I don’t regret it.” He shrugs, as simple as that. “Not one minute of the past two years or anything that happened that night. I don’t regret it.” 

Mobei Jun is stunned by the strength of this man. Two years of pain and agony in a way Mobei Jun could never comprehend, and here is, claiming that night for himself, taking ownership of his choice. Mobei Jun barely knows Shang Qinghua, and yet he is so proud to call him his mate. And yet, he can’t help thinking of the what ifs. 

“What if we never met again and you were stuck in a one-sided bond the rest of your life?”

“That…would have sucked,” he acknowledges with a shrug. “But I’d like to think we would have found each other somehow.”

“Were you looking for me?” Mobei Jun can’t help but ask. “I was looking for you. Everyday I looked.” Long nights and weekends spent frequenting bars and clubs, hoping to catch his mate’s scent. He even tried to hire a private detective, but laws protecting omegas are strict, and an alpha seeking a mate he couldn’t remember bonding with is a recipe for a trapped omega.

“Not at first,” Shang Qinghua admits, his eyes darting away in shame. “I thought you didn’t want me, because you never called.”

“That is the absolute opposite of the truth. I wanted you… I want you.”

Shang Qinghua sighs roughly, rubbing his eyes. “I hate this.”

The words send a shard of ice through his heart. “You don’t want to be mated…”

“I do now, but I never really thought about it before that night.” He shrugs, helplessly. “I hate that I feel connected to you in a way I never thought possible, but I don’t know you as a person. We never had the chance to date, to discover each other before jumping into a lifelong commitment. I mean, I know what you look like naked. I know what your dick tastes like. But that’s not knowing a person.”

Mobei Jun can’t help it, Shang Qinghua’s honesty and brutal bluntness is like a spring rain, refreshing and bright. He laughs.

“What?” Qinghua laughs, but is still trying to glare at him and act affronted by their situation. “It’s true. You know what I look like naked…you just don’t remember it.”

“I would like to know.” Mobei Jun crosses his arm over the table, leaning forward. “And I promise I won’t forget next time.”

“Getting ahead of yourself there aren’t you.” Shang Qinghua licks his lips, telling on himself. He might be mad at their situation, that they skipped some conventional steps in the dating to marriage pipeline, but he can’t deny the attraction between them.

Mobei Jun will do everything he can to prove himself to Shang Qinghua.

“I understand your hesitations with all of this, and I promise what my shithead uncle said about being feral is not true.”

“Oh yeah, I mean I can smell it on you. That’s fucked up he said that.” His eyebrows shoot up into his curls as he quickly says, “And I’m not recessive. I think your uncle told my dad to be as shitty as possible to make you more miserable in this situation.” Qinghua being recessive wasn’t ever a question. The reason his shitty father can no longer sense his pheromones, is solely because he is mated, not because he is deficient in any way…not that it would have mattered to Mobei Jun even if he was.

“How deep in debt is he?”

Shang Qinghua scoffs, “So deep that if this contract doesn’t go through, he threatened to give me to some mob friend he knows to help work off his debt.”

Protective anger curls in his chest. “Would he actually do that?”

“Maybe,” Qinghua sighs, his sent souring. “He knows some shitty people.”

“Is your mother around?”

“Would you stay married to a bum like him?” Qinghua looks at him like he already knows the answer.

“She didn’t take you?” Mobei Jun asks the question before realizing how sensitive a subject it must be. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer that.”

“She took my siblings. They’re alphas. She always said omegas were more trouble than they are worth.”

The sad look on his mate’s face, the hurt and darkened scent spreading across the table belies the casual way he talks about something that clearly has harmed him. Qinghua is strong, but it doesn’t stop Mobie from wanting to hold him and take care of him.

“Can I come sit next to you?”

“No!” Qinghua winces at his urgency. “Not because I don’t want you to, but because I think we need to figure out how to play this right.”

“You’re right.” Mobei Jun takes a deep breath, counting his inhalation and exhale, before resuming his neutral, disinterested posture. “Do you have a suggestion?”

“Let’s tell them we refuse the contract. My dad will threaten me, and your uncle I assume will dangle something you need in your face. We’ll agree to one date to satisfy them.” 

Mobei Jun is impressed with his mate’s attention to detail and quick analysis of the situation, clearly seeing through the shitty men meant to be in parental figures. 

Qinghua surreptitiously pulls out his phone, keeping it beneath the table. “Quick. Tell me your number. I doubt they’ll let us stay here alone for much longer.”

Mobei Jun does so rapidly, hearing a satisfying vibration in his pocket when Qinghua’s text comes in. 

“Have dinner with me tonight?” Mobei Jun says immediately, needing to have his mate somewhere safe and alone. “I’ll leave the office as soon as I can. Find a place to stay nearby.”

“Yeah,” Qinghua says immediately, looking somewhat dazed by the request, a smile slowly spreading across his round cheeks. 

“Do you live with your father?” Mobei Jun asks, concerned for his mate’s safety.

“No. No, I live in a secure omega building, he’s a beta so he won’t be given access unless I explicitly allow it.” He smiles through gritted teeth. “And I have not.”

“So you’ll be ok if he’s mad?”

“I can handle myself.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Mobei grumbles, his frustration and concern infiltrating his scent.

Shang Qinghua tilts his head, considering the question. “He’s not violent…not recently, at least, with me finding the strength to fight back.”

Pride surges through Mobei Jun once more, eager to learn how Qinghua broke away and found his independence. “You’ll text me if something happens?”

“OK.” He huffs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m not used to having someone care about what happens to me.”

“I care,” Mobei Jun claims insistently, needing his mate to know how all in he is despite their rocky start. “I care beyond what our bonds are telling us. I want to get to get to know you as a person. I hope that I’m what you’re looking for in a mate.”

“Hhm,” Qinghua teases playfully. “Sounds like you have a crush.”

“I might,” Mobei Jun says seriously, letting his desire filter into his scent. “There is a beautiful man smiling at me, after all.”

“Are you saying yes to the marriage contract?” Qinghua jokes. 

Mobei Jun grins, intending to answer in the affirmative, when he sees his uncle’s office door open out of the corner of his eye. “They’re coming.” He resumes an annoyed posture, his arms crossed and his expression pissed. 

Qinghua hunches his shoulders, projecting scared omega like an oscar worthy actor. Mobei Jun likes this cunning and conniving man so much. 

 “So,” his uncle begins boisterously, opening the door without so much as a knock. “How did it go?”

“I’ll pass,” Qinghua says, darting his eyes at his father nervously. “I will not be sold to help pay for whatever debts you racked up. I’m an adult and I have no obligation to you.”

“You’ll do as I say or you’ll be working off my debt on the fucking docks,” his father growls, slamming a shaking hand on the table.

“Now, now. It’s clear you might not have seen eye-to-eye with my nephew on a first meeting. Perhaps Mobei Jun should take you out. He knows a nice club he used to have fun at.”

Linguan Jun turns his now thunderous attention on Mobei Jun. “Eight patents, if you go on the date.”

“Ten.” Mobei Jun finds himself, once again, attempting to hide how impressed he is that his mate called their predictable actions. “In addition to the five.”

“Done.” Linguang Jun smiles like he’s won the fucking lottery. 

“Qinghua?” Shang Yu prompts for his son’s agreement, his hand once again squeezing his shoulder.

Qinghua looks Mobei Jun dead in the eye as he says, “Fine. One date.”

“Splendid,” Linguan Jun raps his knuckles on the table in celebration. “As the weekend starts tomorrow, why not schedule dinner for this evening? I know a lovely place–”

“I have plans with CEO Luo tonight,” Mobei Jun interrupts. “We will go out tomorrow. I’ll make the reservation.”

“Of course,” a hint of sourness leaks from Linguang Jun’s usually tightly controlled scent. “Can’t mess with your special relationship with Luo Binghe. We’ll settle this matter on Monday. Sound good, everyone?”

“Yes, looking forward to it. Come, Qinghua.” The shitty father storms out of the room without a backwards glance, wiping his sweaty brow.

Qinghua moves to follow, furtively looking back over his shoulder at Mobei Jun. To anyone else his pinched expression would seem nervous, worried for the time he has to spend with a rumored feral alpha, but Mobei Jun can sense the calming pheromones he’s releasing. Shang Qinghua knows watching him walk away, even for a moment, is agony for an alpha after years of searching for his long lost mate. Qingha is telling him it’s ok. They have each other’s phone numbers now. They’ll see each other soon. It’s not like last time.

In an instant Qinghua is out of his sight, entering the elevator to take them down to the building lobby. A text pings on Mobei Jun’s phone.

Mobei Jun stands, not even sparing a glance for his uncle as he walks out of the conference room. As he’s about to cross the threshold, eager to get out and find Qinghua, his uncle stops him.

“I know the situation isn’t ideal, a debtor’s recessive faulty omega son. But it’s the best you’ll get. I suggest you take it…or I will do all I can to take what you’ve been working so hard for.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” Mobei Jun growls, acting like he’s been backed into a corner.

“I’ve been gentle as a kitten scratch. My claws are longer than you think.”

“I’ll be away from the office the rest of the day,” he says instead of responding to the threat. “CEO Luo needs me to consult on a project.”

Without waiting for his uncle to respond, Mobei Jun heads for the elevator. He pulls out his phone. The first text is Qinghua’s initial “hi” when they exchanged numbers. The second, sets his heart on fire.

“There’s a cafe ten blocks from your office. I’ll be waiting.” A link to the cafe follows the text.

For the first time in two years, Mobei Jun is hopeful. The hole in his chest is filling, and he feels as though the misery of his adult life is finally changing for the better.

***

“Don’t fuck this up for me.”

“For the millionth time, I only came because you tricked me and said we were meeting mom,” Qinghua hisses at useless father. “I would never have come if I knew what you were planning and there's no way in hell I’m going to marry that man.”

He’s definitely going to marry that man. He’s going to marry the shit out of him and no force on this earth is going to stop him. His mate. His MATE. He wants Qinghua. It was a misunderstanding. He never called because he didn’t see the notepad. He’s so happy he’s having a hard time keeping himself from screaming in glee. 

As they descend the highrise in the elevator, his father blathering on about filial obedience and all that bull shit, Shang Qinghua searches on his phone for a cafe not too far or too close to his mate’s–HIS MATE’S–office and sends the location to Mobei Jun’s phone. 

“Whatever,” he says to his father when the elevator reaches ground level. “I don’t want anything to do with you or your problems. Figure it out on your own and stop contacting me.”

“Qinghua,” his father growls, grabbing Qinghua’s arm, his fingers digging in, no doubt leaving marks. Qinghua stares him down, keeping the instinctual fear from surfacing. “I will hunt you down and drag you to the fucking wedding if I have to. If you don’t do this, I will find you and I will sell you to the omega slave trade.”

Qinghu uses a mental exercise his therapist gave him to push past the fear. He’s free. This man no longer has any say in what he does in his life, and now he has a mate he can turn to, if he needs to. He's no longer the weak, trembling man he was before.

“Good luck, shithead,” he raises his voice, hoping to catch the attention of the nearby security team. “Need I remind you I live in an omega protective building with high security.”

“You can’t stay inside forever.”

“Ha! Try me. I work from home. Groceries can be delivered and dropped with security at the front desk. I am the hermitiest of hermits. I once spent a whole month inside without leaving my apartment and I was annoyed that my friend forced me to leave. I was made to stay inside. Fucking try it. You’ll never get me.”

He shakes off his father’s grip, the man relinquishing his hold as the security team spots the commotion and starts to walk over.

Qinghua puts on his best scared omega face and pouts at the security team. “Please, can you make sure that man doesn’t follow me? He’s been harassing me since I left my mate’s office.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” he sniffles pathetically. “Thank you so much.”

Qinghua dashes out the revolving door into the warm summer rain, lifting his black umbrella and crossing the street before his father can even break away from the security guard. It doesn’t take much to lose himself in a sea of black and transparent umbrellas, the crowded streets of the city’s financial district a perfect means of hiding in plain sight. 

When he’s sure he hasn’t been followed, Qinghua makes his way toward the cafe, excitement thrumming through his body for the first time in years. 

For so long he’s been sure that his mate didn’t want him. No calls. No texts. And Shang Qinghua was stupid, the adrenaline from his oncoming heat too amped to remember to exchange numbers or ask for simple fucking details before Qinghua offered himself to a complete stranger. 

A million reasons have crossed Qinghua’s mind over the years for why he never got that call. He thought maybe the man had a partner he hadn’t mated with yet and only slept with Qinghua because he didn’t have a choice, the rut coming on too fast to call his partner. Or maybe he remembered the evening and had hated the sex. Maybe he felt used. Maybe he blamed Qinghua and never wanted to be mated in the first place.

Of course the thought that Mobei Jun hadn’t seen the note with his number crossed his mind, it was the only point of hope Qinghua was able to latch on to. But as the months then years passed, hope became discarded pages thrown in the trash. Useless and with no reason to hold on to. 

But seeing him there, standing in the doorway of that pretentious conference room with a look of shocked excitement on his face, his scent filling the room, mingling with Qinghua’s scent and he knew– he knew –that it was all ok. Mobei Jun missed him as much as Qinghua missed and yearned for him. And it wasn’t just his awful painful heats that made him long for his mate. The thing he remembered most from that night–aside from his mate’s shockingly huge cock and the absolute joy of getting knotted by it–was the tenderness. As they lay together, locked to one another’s body, Mobei Jun’s lips left a trail of satisfying kisses along his throat, his jaw, his cheeks, his eyebrows. He worshiped Shang Qinghua, every touch a benediction, every kiss a promise. His glazed eyes looked upon Qinghua’s face with reverence, like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to find him, to have him in his arms. 

Due to his condition, Qinghua has been with many partners over the years out of necessity. Beta, omega, alpha. Every type, every gender. It has all been perfunctory, serving the purpose of keeping the worst pain at bay during his heats. In all that time, no one has ever made love to him, not like Mobei Jun did. And they weren’t even mated at that point. The bonding came later, when the night was practically over and Qinghua was just as lost to the lust and heat as Mobei Jun was to whatever drug was fucking with his system. They’d marked each other in every way they could without actually biting. When their orgasms were rising, when Mobei Jun kissed him like he was the only person left in the world, Qinghua just couldn’t imagine spending another mediocre heat with another mediocre partner. He couldn’t give this up. He asked for a bond, begged for it, and Mobei Jun didn’t hesitate to sink his teeth in.

Of course the cynical, self-hating part of Qinghua’s brain–a part he has been working on silencing thanks to therapy and good friendships setting him straight when his thoughts get dark–telling him the reverence and tenderness was due to the drug. It was an immense relief to see the need in Mobei Jun’s eyes, and the delicious desire in his mint chocolate scent. 

Qinghua arrives at the cozy looking cafe and grabs a booth toward the back, not wanting to be seen from the street in case his father follows him the correct way. He orders a large latte with extra shots, pulls out his laptop from his backpack and decides to work on a few chapters of his current project while he waits. 

He imagines Mobei Jun will need to finish some work before he’s able to leave. Probably doesn’t want to appear too eager or suspicious to his uncle. His dickwad of an uncle, another hurdle that will need to be handled if they are to have a peaceful mating. Qinghua only recently had enough money to escape his father and move into his apartment, finally receiving approval from whatever board decides an omega down on their luck enough to qualify for the protective buildings. He refuses to accept another jackass hovering over him simply because he’s the uncle of his mate.

The cafe door opens and Qinghua can’t help looking up, his eagerness hoping to see the man he’s there to meet, but knowing its probably just another customer. He’s shocked to see Mobei Jun standing there, scanning the crowd. So much for being covert about their meeting.

Qinghua stands, waving him down. Mobei Jun stalks over, receiving a few wary glances from the customers. His hair and shoulders are soaked through from the rain, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. His chiseled jaw, cheekbones that can cut concrete, and permanent sexy scowl make Qinghua want to bite and bond with him all over again. He has to be six inches taller than Qinghua, and his arm muscles alone must be double the size of Qinghua’s noodle limbs. Of course he’s dressed impeccably, no doubt wearing a bespoke suit someone of his class can afford. Qinghua doesn’t know dick about fashion, but he knows Mobei Jun looks sexy as hell in a suit.  

But above the alluring scent, the muscles, the scowl, the hotness, everything that makes him into the ultimate package, it’s his crystal clear ice cold eyes that thrill Qinghua the most. To anyone looking they would appear cold and unfeeling. To Qinghua, he sees those eyes in his dreams, staring lovingly at him. And across a cafe, without sex and a drug between them, they look the same. The longing is clear and unwavering, there for only Qinghua to see. 

Qinghua can’t help but bite his lip, trying to keep in his laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Mobei Jun practically grunts at him as he arrives at the table.

“Just amazed how someone so massively hot is my mate.” Qinghua takes a deep breath, trying to keep his scent under control. “And that he wants me.”

Some unnamed emotion crosses over Mobei Jun’s face, his breath stuttering. “Qinghua can I–can I hug you?”

Qinghua doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms and waits for Mobei Jun to crush him. But crushing doesn’t happen. Instead, Mobei Jun slides his hands onto Qinghua’s hips, then up and around his back, touching him the entire way, until he’s clutching him close, his nose settling over Qinghua's scent gland, breathing him in. Qinghua’s knees go weak at the sensation, and Mobei Jun holds him closer, supporting him. His mate is scenting him, staking a claim, letting every person in this cafe know they belong together. Qinghua loves it. He wraps his arms around Mobei Jun’s neck and sinks his hands into his short, sleek hair. His face rests against his mate’s bond mark, a perfect mirror of Qinguha’s teeth. He isn’t as shameless to rest his teeth over the marks in public, but he’s tempted. Instead he does as Mobei Jun does, resting his nose against the gland and breathing him in.

It isn’t until a text makes his phone vibrate on the table that he realizes he’s no longer standing on the ground, and Mobei Jun is holding him up, his legs dangling. 

Qinghua taps him on the shoulder, and Mobei Jun sets him down gently.

“Thank you,” Mobei Jun says, with a sigh, clearing his throat. “I needed that.”

“Me too.” Shang Qinghua rubs Mobei Jun’s arms, reluctant to stop touching him.

“It’s been…a difficult two years.”

Shang Qinghua pulls him down onto the bench next to him instead of separating to sit across from each other. Qinghua pushes his hand into Mobei Jun’s, wrapping them together and sitting thigh-to-thigh, being as close together as humanly possible without getting kicked out of the cafe for public indecency. When the server comes over, Mobei Jun orders a cappuccino. 

As the server departs, Qinghua turns to Mobei, unable to hide his smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Qinghua. Can I call you that?”

“Yeah.” A thrill runs through Qinghua at the familiarity. “Yes, please.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, as though they can’t believe the other one is real.

“I never believed in true mates,” Qinghua confesses. “Not until you.”

“I didn’t either.” Mobei Jun’s hand lifts to play with the curls framing Qingua’s face. “It felt too fantastical.”

“Yeah, and life is too shit for something so romantic like a soulmate to be real.”

Mobei Jun hums consideringly. “It’s less soulmate and more a mix of chemical attraction and compatibility.”

Qinghua smacks his arm playfully. “Let me have my romantic fantasy.”

“Are you a fan of romance?” Mobei Jun asks, his tone concerned.

“Why? Not your thing?”

“I have been told by previous partners I am somewhat absent of romance. I don’t want to disappoint.”

Mobei Jun’s worry over something too sweet brings a warmth to Qinghua’s heart. This ice block of a man, at least on the outside, is truly concerned with what Shang Qinghua thinks of him. 

“We can learn what romance means to us.” Qinghua feels his cheeks blush. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll think you’re the most romantic man in the world.”

“You need to raise your standards for romance.”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

They sit in silence for a moment, their hands constantly moving, changing the way they’re touching each other. Their fingers pressing between each other’s, a thumb pressing into a palm, nails tripping lightly over knuckles. It’s simple and grounding, the first time they’ve focused on touching each other without a heat or drug induced rut to influence them.

The moment breaks as the server brings Mobei Jun’s cappuccino. 

“Should we talk about the contract?” Mobei Jun asks after taking a sip from the large mug.

“I suppose so. What is it your uncle is bribing you with to get us to marry? I’m assuming that’s the only way you would agree to even meet someone when you’re already mated.”

“Mostly he wants to humiliate me. The situation with my uncle is…untenable.” Mobei Jun goes on to describe the ten year long cold war being waged between him and his uncle for his father’s company. The board votes deeming him incapable of leading. The psychological and emotional torture. The drugging as a means to discredit him. The rumors of his feral nature that were spread after their mating. “I’m exhausted. I don’t know how much more I can take before he’s finally able to push me down. But I can’t give up. I’ve worked for this my entire life, it would be shameful to walk away. I have to keep fighting.”

Qinghua has listened quietly, hearing how much pain his mate is in, and how stubborn and unmoveable. This isn’t a sustainable way of living, and he only has to help him see a way past what he has always known to be truth. 

“When I was young,” Qinghua starts. “After my mother left, all I wanted was my father’s approval. I did anything and everything for him. Worked miserable hours until I was beyond exhausted, even ignored the pains of my heats so I could work side gigs to earn more money. I put my dreams, my needs, aside for him. Just to earn his love and to hear him say he’s proud of me. So he wouldn’t leave me, like my mom did.” Mobei Jun wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a soft hug. Qinghua sighs into his shoulder, his scent relaxing him. 

“Then, after you, I thought to myself, what was I doing it for? The man was a leach. He would suck me dry until I had nothing left to give. And now look at him, threatening to sell his own son into sexual slavery just to pay off a debt. I came to the harsh realization that I was wasting my life for a shitty father not worth my time. So I said fuck it. I quit the high paying corporate job I hated, I grabbed what I could from my father’s place, and moved out without telling him. Luckily I have a friend who let me crash at his place until I was approved for a protective omega unit, then I got my place last year, and I was truly free.”

“I’m glad you got out.” Mobei Jun kisses the palm of his hand, holding it to his chin. “He’s isn’t worth the dirt under your shoe. I’m proud of you.” 

The sentiment feels like being lit up from within from the sun. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t measure yourself by what someone else needs or wants from you. Is this what you think your dad wanted when he left you the business? Working yourself to exhaustion, your inventions being stolen by a piece of shit who tortures you? Is it what you really want?”

“You think I should quit? Mobei Jun asks, the idea completely foreign to him. “Just give up after all these years?”

“Why not?” Qinghua asks plainly, tyring to get his mate to see there is more than one path forward. “Is it quitting or is it finding freedom?”

“I have non compete clauses in my contract, I wouldn’t be able to work for another company for two years after leaving.”

“Please, like you don’t have plenty of savings and a trust fund somewhere to help you get by.”

“Fine,” Mobei Jun concedes but still doesn’t sound totally convinced. “You’re correct in that I would be financially stable, even if I decided not to work for ten years, but to throw away everything my father built feels…wrong.”

“It’s up to you. But Mobei Jun, if we get married, and I hope we do, your uncle will never stop messing with us. He will hound us, harass me, fuck with you in new ways until it breaks you and he takes what he wants. So unless you have a sure fire way to get a majority vote from your board, don’t expect it to ever end.”

Mobei Jun’s expression is dark and unsettled, but he doesn’t dismiss Qinghua’s point altogether. “I need to think about it.”

“Ok.”

He looks at Qinghua, his voice soft and hesitant. “What will you do if I decide to stay?”

“Oh, baby,” Qinghua, frames Mobei Jun’s face, rubbing his sharp as fuck cheekbones. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you, annoying uncle or not. If you want to stay, we’ll work together to take him down. It just might take a while and I don’t want to see you like this everyday, miserable, fighting a battle that leaves you exhausted and unhappy. I want my mate to be happy.”

They lean their foreheads together, their scents combining to create a perfect symphony. “You make me happy.”

Qinghua laughs at the statement, no less gleeful for how naive it is. “We haven’t known each other for twenty-four hours, and that includes our twenty hour sex romp.”

“Did it really last for twenty hours?”

“Oh yeah, I booked us two nights just in case it went longer. If it was anyone weaker who had taken that drug, we probably would have been there for three days.”

“Where did you work before? You said you left because you had work in the morning. You couldn’t have taken off?”

“Oh I worked at Ciang Qiong Industries.” Qinghua sticks his tongue out after sayin the name, making his disgust clear. “I was the director of operations of their headquarters. That day I was called in for an emergency meeting or I would have called in sick, I swear. That meeting could have been an email. I was pissed.”

“That is a high level position.” Mobei Jun sounds impressed, almost surprised. It set Qinghua off a bir. 

“What, did you think I was a receptionist or a secretary? It’s the twenty-first century, omegas can do whatever they want.”

“Qinghua–”

“I have a fucking MBA. I also have a masters in historical literature.”

“Qinghua–”

“I am multifaceted.”

“Qinghua!” Mobei Jun smooshes his face with his hands rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply omegas aren’t capable of that kind of job. There are many talented omegas who work in my department and none of them are receptionists and secretaries. Though, you shouldn’t be so disparaging of those roles, they require a complex understanding of the company structure.”

“Ah…oh,” Qinghua mumbles, his face still smooshed. “You’re right. Yeah. Sorry. I guess I have a chip on my shoulder.”

“That’s ok.” Mobei Jun releases him with a kiss to his forehead. “I like seeing you worked up. Your strength and indignation are sexy.”

Qinghua covers his face, his blush overtaking his cheeks once again. “You’re lucky we’re mated so nobody can scent how embarrassed I am right now.”

Mobei Jun leans in close, “I can smell it. And it’s not the only thing I can smell. You're turned on.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had sex for two years. Can you blame me?”

“Will you come to my place?” Mobei Jun asks, his scent blanketing Qinghua in a haze of yearning and desire.

Qinghua’s breath stutters, the unhinged need to have his mate inside him threatening to take over his brain. “Do you think your uncle will follow us?”

“No, I told him I’m working with the CEO of Binghe Industries. Binghe scares him, he won’t interfere in that business partnership.”

The name shakes Qinghua from the fog of lust. “You know Luo Binghe?” he asks.

“Do you know Luo Binghe?”

“Yeah. He’s married to my best friend.”

“Shen Yuan is your best friend?” Mobei Jun sounds stunned. “That man doesn’t like anyone.”

“Ha,” Qinghua laughs, his hermit friend only has eyes for his husband. “Yeah he’s the best. How do you know Luo Binghe?”

“We graduated in the same class in college.”

“Wow. What a small world–”

“Qinghua,” Mobei Jun interrupts, his hand trailing down Qinghua’s thigh to rest between his legs, kneading his thigh just below his hardening cock, teasing him with what’s to come. “I want my cock buried inside you with my knot filling you until you scream my name. But I don’t want to pressure you–”

All thoughts of friends and evil plots by fathers and uncles are erased from his brain in favor of the absolute horny monster that resides in Qinghua’s psyche twenty-four-seven. His mate. He can have his mate’s knot again. Slick coalesces at his hole, sliding past his rim, his desire clear and sharp. 

Qinghua gets on his knees, looking down at Mobei Jun, uncaring if anyone can hear them. “If I’m not in a bedroom with you fucking me brainless in the next twenty minutes I will tear your pants off and suck your dick no matter where the fuck we are.”

“With traffic it might take us longer than twenty minutes to get to my place.”

Qinghua nods, acknowledging this hiccup in the plan.“How good are you at sneaky backseat handjobs?”

“Check, now!”

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua doesn’t see the decorative archway upon entering Mobei Jun’s home. He doesn’t see the carefully curated decor. He doesn’t see the state of the art kitchen. He doesn’t see the handmade throw blankets or thick, artisan rugs. He doesn’t see the plants or the gaming system or the view out the windows. 

He only sees his mate as he’s pressed against every surface, the couple making slow progress getting to the bedroom.

“I can fuck you here,” Mobei Jun whispers into Qinghua’s ear as he’s bent over the kitchen island, Mobei’s hand at his neck, pressing his face against the quartz countertop. His groin rubs against Qinghua’s ass, and that absolutely massive cock slides along the crease of his jeans, pressing as far as it can go while they’re both clothed.

“Bedroom,” Qinghua pants, the sensation of being held down scratching an itch he never knew he had. Fuck he wants it. He wants his mate to press the full length of his naked body against Qinghua’s, shove his pants down and thrust his cock inside him, taking him against the counter. But not today. Maybe they can fuck on the counter tomorrow. “You promised me a bedroom.”

Mobei Jun lessens the tension against his neck, but Qinghua doesn’t move, the pressure against his ass too delicious to change positions just yet.

“I thought Qinghua wanted a bedroom. Did you change your mind? Or maybe you want something else right now? I know what I want.”

“What do you want?” Qinghua pants.

“A taste.”

Qinghua’s fantasy, at least part of it, comes to life in front of his eyes…or behind him. Mobei Jun undoes the buttons on Qinghua’s jeans, followed by the slow descent of the zipper. He slips his hand inside, settling it over Qinghua’s cock and squeezing for no more than a second before pushing the pants all the way down and off. He kneels behind him, biting one ass cheek, and then the other before slipping Qinghua’s briefs off completely.

Qinghua moans, he can feel the sharpness of the bites lingering in tune with the too brief squeeze of his cock, the sensation too small to satisfy the immense fervor stirring in his gut. It's starting to become painful, like when he goes into heat.

Oh shit.

“Mo–Mobei Jun–ah!” He cries out, a slick wetness stirring in his hole as Mobei’s tongue breaches his rim. The feel of his tongue shoots up Qinghua’s spine, curling his toes. “I–I–fuck, yeah, eat me out. Gods, how are you so good at this?”

“Qinghua tastes sweet.” Mobei Jun practically grunts behind him, pulling Qinghua’s ass cheeks further apart. The flicking and sucking speeds up, his hands begin to knead, the throbbing rhythm matched by the pulsing of his tongue. “You’re so wet for me.” Mobei reaches around and begins to trail his fingers up and down Qinghua’s cock. He doesn’t grip it, only teasing, driving Qinghua to insanity, begging for that hard grip to push him over the edge.

Another wave of heat crashes into him, another gush of slick between his legs.

“Fuck, Qinghua, you love this.”

“Actually–wait. Wait a second. Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, I seriously fucking love it. Your tongue is crazy. But I might need to skip the bedroom and have you take me right here.” Qinghua tenses, mentally preparing to take Mobei Jun’s cock now that he’s offered that open invitation.

But instead of ramming into him with abandon, Mobei Jun stands, and gently helps Qinghua up from the counter, turning him around, which only makes him whimper as he sees the long cock tenting Mobei Jun’s pants. Mobei Jun gently grips his chin, bringing his attention away from that beast in his pants and to his face. “Are you feeling ok? You look flushed. Your scent is different than it was a minute ago. Sharper. Should we stop?”

Qinghua melts at the concern in his voice. Any other alpha would throw caution to the wind and fuck him right there. But Mobei Jun isn’t any other alpha. Mobei Jun is Shang Qinghua’s mate, and he cares about what's going on with Qinghua’s body. He won’t steamroll him.

“I think I might be going into a false heat.”

“Shit, are you in pain?”

“A little. It’s not as bad as it usually is because your scent is keeping me satiated. But if you tease anymore it could hurt a lot more.” He places his hand on his belly, the contracting in his womb growing more aggressive by the second. Tears burn the corners of his eyes, and Qinghua huffs in frustration. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“Like what?” Mobei Jun asks, already taking action and removing the rest of their clothes. Qinghua moans when Mobei’s gorgeous cock is released, the thing too heavy and long to stay upright, even fully erect. 

“I didn’t want to have sex with you because of this fucking condition again.” Mobei Jun wraps his hands around Qinghua’s hips and lifts him onto the counter, placing him in the perfect position. Qinghua leans back on his elbows, his feet propped on the edge with his legs falling to the sides. Open to Mobei Jun’s gaze. “I wanted you to want me. I wanted to–don’t make fun of me–I wanted to make love, not just fuck.”

“Hhmm,” Mobei Jun leans over the counter, caging Qinghua with one arm, the other reaching below, his large fingers playing with his rim. He looks down, his crystalline eyes growing dark as he watches his fingers breach Qinghua’s hole.

“Ah, Mobei–” The intrusion is a relief, his body recognizing it will be filled soon.

“Who says I don’t want you?” he asks as he thrusts his fingers in and out, not taking much time to work him up to three, stretching him, carefully preparing him but also seeking out his pleasure point with a quick and easy accuracy. “Who says we’re not making love?”

“Fuck, right there,” Qinghua cries out as Mobei drags a finger along his prostate. “Your fingers are so big, they stretch me.” A sharp pain shoots through his abdomen, a warning. “It’s not enough–please I need it. It hurts.”

“Qinghua look at me.” 

“I can’t,” he gasps, his eyes shut tight as another wave of heat takes hold of his body and his writhing hips seek his mate without conscious thought. “I need my alpha. I need your knot. Alpha, please. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Qinghua, don’t fall into the heat yet. Look at me.” Mobei Jun pulls Qinghua’s hips to the edge of the counter and lines his cock up, pressing the tip in. 

The pleasure is so close. It’s right there. He just needs to be filled. Needs it all the way.

“More. it’s not enough. Fuck me already.”

“Qinghua,” Mobei puts the seductive force of his alpha into his voice, his pheromones merging with Qinghua’s to create the most alluring scent he’s ever known. It pulls him from the heat, just enough to look Mobei Jun in the eye as Mobei tugs him up from his prone position so they’re torsos align. Qinghua grips his shoulders, his eyes widening as Mobei pushes in, never moving his gaze from Qinghua’s. Inch by inch. Slowly, a little more with each word spoken. 

“Qinghua, you’re mine. I’m not fucking you because you’re in pain, though I want to ease that pain. I’m not fucking you because this will be the only time and then we won’t see each other for another two years.” 

He slides out, almost completely, the tip playing on the edge of Qinghua’s rim. Qinghua feels mindless, his mouth is hung open, his eyes glazed. The sensation is too strong, too much for his body to take. The sharpness is a wave, pulling him under. 

“I’m making love to you, because I want you. Because there is no one in the world who fits together better than us. I’ve got you.” At those words he pushes in and bottoms out, the thrust rough, coaxing a rasping moan from Qinghua.

The hovering tears fall over Qinghua’s cheeks, the pain subsiding for something new, a pleasure so intense he can feel it in his lungs. 

Mobei Jun slides out to the tip once more before slamming in, the sounds of skin on skin echoing across the kitchen, turning him on. “You’re made for me.” He does it again. “You’re mine.” And again. And again, until he creates a steady rhythm. Taking Qinghua in the dirtiest, most indulgent way.

“Made for you.” Mobei Jun’s lips find his, kissing him deeply, his tongue matching the pace of his cock, then biting and sucking Qinghua’s lips.

“And what am I?” Mobei leans his forehead against Qinghua’s cheek, his breath coming hard and fast with his increasing thrusts. “Who am I?”

Something snaps Qinghua out of his dazed reverie, the rhythm of their sex giving him clarity for once during a heat instead of a haze of agony and pain.

“You’re my mate,” he says, pulling back enough to look him in the eye, a smile ticking the corners of his lips ever so slightly upward, satisfaction in every word. “My alpha.”

Qinghua wraps his arms around Mobei’s head, his fingers gripping his mate’s hair, and tilts his head to the side, offering the unmarked side of his neck. “Now prove it,” he murmurs, feeling the miasma of heat beginning to consume him once again. “Mark me.”

“We’re already marked,” Mobei Jun grunts, his pace picking up once more, his hips smacking into Qinghua’s ass, adding a touch of pleasurable pain to their joining. 

“Do it again,” Qinghua demands. “The other side. So you remember it.”

“That’s–”

The practice of bonding on both sides of the neck is considered archaic, for an alpha with control issues. Mobei Jun hesitates, he doesn’t want Qinghua to be judged for it, looked at like he’s an object that belongs to someone.

“I want it. I’ll do it to you too. We’ll do it together. You’re mine, right?” Qinghua grins at him, his eyes wild. “Don’t you want to give your omega what he wants?”

Mobei Jun’s knot begins to swell and the decision is made for him, a base instinctual need taking over his senses. He doesn’t try to hold it back, doesn’t try to hide it, he lets it go, lets himself just be what he is for his mate, who wants him just the way he is. 

“That’s right,” Mobei Jun growls, his hips thrusting deep, reaching Qinghua’s womb, claiming every inch of him. “I’m yours. My body. My cock. My lips. My soul. They’re yours. You own me.”

“Mobei–” Qinghua grips his mate’s hair and pulls his head to the side, revealing the biteless skin. “Mine.” He sinks his teeth in as he feels his ass stretch around his mate’s swelling knot as it catches on the rim. 

“Oh Gods!” A sudden deep and sharp pain spreads from his neck to his chest to his cock, Mobei Jun’s teeth piercing deep. “Ah. Ah. Ah,” Words are robbed from his tongue as the orgasm takes him, his ass pulsing as slick gushes from his body. 

“Inside, come inside me!” Qinghua releases his death grip on Mobei Jun’s neck and pushes his hips as far as he can into his mate’s, coaxing the knot past his rim. Mobei Jun grinds into him, keeping his growing knot inside but rubbing against his prostate with every subtle shift. Qinghua doesn’t think he’ll survive it. 

“Too much.”

“Almost there” Mobei Jun pants, sounding like he’s run a marathon. “You can take it.”

“I can’t, it’s–ah! Fuck. Don’t let go.”

“Never.” A rush of warmth fills Qinghua and Mobei Jun grunts, thrusting in him a final time, before resting them back against the counter, his tense muscles relaxing as his knot settles into Qinghua’s warmth. His tongue licks along the deep cuts on Qinghua’s neck, his instinct to care for him overriding his need to breed him. 

Qinghua doesn’t even try to hold back the tears now steadily streaming down his face. After two years of waiting, two years of painful longing, of thinking his mate didn’t want him, of thinking he’ll be alone forever, the base need of his omega instincts are finally satisfied, the pain utterly gone. 

He finally feels whole. 

***

It’s the sniffling that pulls Mobei Jun from his post orgasmic fog. Qinghua’s body is wrapped around his, his feet crossed low on Mobei’s back, his arms trembling over his shoulders, his hands still dug into his hair, pulling tight. Mobei Jun’s knot is locked inside his mate. It’s perfection, except for the sniffling.

“Qinghua,” he whispers, afraid speaking any louder will ruin this beautiful thing, but too concerned for his mate to stay silent. “Qinghua, are you ok?”

When there’s no response, only wetness on his shoulder that has nothing to do with sex or their renewed mating against his shoulder, Mobei shifts his hold to secure Qinghua to him as firmly as possible and lifts him from the counter.

“Mo–Mobei Jun!” His voice is watery, his words stuttering between teary hiccups. “Wait, we’re still knotted.”

“I’m getting you off the counter and somewhere warm.” He moves them across the apartment and into his bedroom. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, the ambient light of the gloomy rainy day enough to make his way to the bed. He sits down first, a shift that causes his knot to tug a little, eliciting a moan from Qinghua, the sound stirring Mobei Jun’s arousal before his knot is even finished. He slides them up the bed and grabs a throw to put over Qinghua’s shoulders for warmth. Once they’re settled, Qinghua laying on top of him, the tears still steadily streaming, Mobei Jun gently lifts his head to get a look at his face.

“Are you in pain? Is it the heat?” His heart freezes in his chest at the very real possibility that he lost control. “Did I do this?”

Qinghua laughs, the sound wet and amazed. “You definitely did this, but it has nothing to do with pain. You wrecked me.” He sighs, deep and satisfied. “Just what I needed.”

Qinghua kisses his mouth shut, using his leverage to push Mobei Jun’s head against the pillow, his fingers playing with Mobei’s new mark, pressing down, the pain from the fresh wound a searing reminder of their renewed bond. As Qinghua opens his mouth to breathe, Mobei Jun dives in further, his tongue tasting every inch of him, the kiss an incandescent brightness, turning what was a dark and miserable life into something more. 

“Glad to be of service.” Mobei Jun grins up at his mate. Qinghua’s face is red, his eyes glassy and his hair is sticking to his forehead due to the cooling sweat. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Stop.” Qinghua hides his face against Mobei Jun’s chest.

“I mean it. I’m so lucky.” He nuzzles into Qinghua’s fresh mark, ensuring he’s licked up all the blood and the wound has sealed. “Are the tears only from me wrecking you or is it something else?”

“I don’t know.” Qionghua shrugs, hissing as the tenderness of the mark burns from the movement. “I think I’m just happy, and I realized I didn’t know what that felt like until today.” He snorts. “Turns out I’m as stereotypical as the next omega.”

“Then I’m just like all the alphas out there. Protective. Burdensome. Aggressive. And so in love with my mate I would do anything for him.”

Qinghua frowns at him, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “How can you be in love with me?” The question is quiet, filled with doubt. “We still really don’t know each other.” His face shifts in that  mischievous way Mobei Jun is coming to learn means he’s about to tell a dick joke or something similar. “Is it ‘cause you’re still coming inside me?”

“Do you talk like this with everyone you know?”

“Like what?” he asks innocently. 

“So intensely blunt and honest.”

Qinghua hums, resting his chin on Mobei’s chest, his fingers playing with the dark hair. “I used to just say whatever I thought anyone wanted to hear. I avoided conflict like the plague. I ran from it. Now…I don’t know.” he gazes up at him, the blunt honesty transforming into openness and vulnerability. “You flipped a switch in me that night. I saw something in your eyes when you looked at me. It gave me confidence. Even though the last two years sucked, and through my doubts of you wanting me, I felt more myself than I ever have. And it let me…stop giving a fuck.”

Mobei Jun kisses him, as passionately as he can, telling him without words how amazing Qinghua is. 

“You ask me how I know I love you. I know because of this. Just today I’ve learned how strong you are, how you pushed through doubts and fear and came out a fierce as fuck on the other side. You’re protective, thinking you owed me an apology after that night. Kind, letting me in so quickly when you had every right to keep me at arms length. Compassionate. Funny. Manipulative in a scary way that kind of turns me on. I like your mind, and I’m eager to learn more. And that was all just one day.”

Qinghua’s eyes are glassy once more, staring up at Mobei Jun in disbelief. “You say all that like it’s easy.”

“It’s easy to love you, Qinghua.”

Qinghua’s face crumples into a mix of love and awe. They kiss, Qinghua trailing his lips down to his jaw, his neck, then over the new bond mark. They take a moment, breathing each other in, living in this profound new reality.

“Am I still bleeding?” Mobei Jun asks after a while, the mark stinging.

“No, it’s all sealed up.” Qinghua says after a big sniffle. “I think it will turn out darker than the first one.”

“Good, I want everyone to know I’m taken.”

“What will we do about the date tomorrow?” Qinghua gasps. “Oh, you know what would be fun? We should show up with our necks on display. They can’t smell our scents so they won’t know the marks belong to us. I would love to see the look on my father’s face when he realizes all his plans are for nothing and he’s the one who will get sold to pay off his debts.” His laughs sounds  a little evil.

“You truly want that for him?”

“No. Maybe.” Qinghua groans. “I’ve definitely thought about it. I just want him out of my life.”

The idea of playing out a farce for his uncle and Qinghua’s father was fun at first, but now that they’re together, now that 

“I think I know what we should do tomorrow.”

“Can you take tomorrow off work?”

“Oh, yeah I set my own schedule.”

Mobei Jun feels like a total dickhead as he realizes he has absolutely no clue what Qinghua does for work.

“What do you do for a living now?”

Qinghua whispers it gleefully, like he’s letting Mobei Jun in on a big secret. “I write the dirtiest, smuttiest gay fantasy novels ever to grace the internet and I sketch smutty art to go with it. I make a shit ton of money. The internet is a very horny place.”

This is absolutely in line with Qinghua as a person and makes so much sense.

“I want to see your art and read your stories.”

“Are you sure? You may never look at me the same again.”

“I want to read your sex scenes, get horny, then have sex with you about them.”

Qinghua stares at him for a second, his eyes wide in shock, before devolving into laughter. “You might be my perfect man.”

“Qinghua, I know it’s soon, but tomorrow, will you marry me?”

“What about the date?”

“Fuck it. Fuck them. Let them realize they put us together thinking it will make us miserable and serve their own purposes when it only made us happy.”

“It takes at least three weeks to make an appointment for registration.” he adds this piece of logical information as his smile stretches so wide Mobei Jun thinks he sees new wrinkles form.

“There is a special exception for mates in our situation. They’ll most likely ask you a bunch of intrusive questions to ensure you’re not being forced. You’ll need a witness.” At Shang Qinghua’s uncharacteristic silence, he says, “Look, I know we’re bonded, but my stupid alpha brain needs more. I want you to be my husband.”

“Should I get your name tattooed on my forehead too?” he giggles, intending it to be a joke.

“Would you do that?”

“No tattoo, you freak!” He whacks Mobei Jun’s chest, so gleefully happy that tears begin to stream down his face once more. “Yes, I’ll fucking marry you. You handsome, insane, sweet, soft, caring man. You’re an ice cold exterior with a gooey center and I think I’m falling in love with you.” Qinghua kisses him, making love with his lips and tongue. “Oh, I have the perfect person to act as witness,” he says as they pull away.

“You’ll be my husband,” Mobei Jun says, too focused on the fact that Qinghua said yes to care about witnesses.

“We’re never separating again,” Qinghua’s voice is serious and Mobei Jun can only agree. 

The idea of being more than five feet away from Qinghua feels like it might physically hurt.

As Mobei Jun’s knot begins to release, Qinghua tenses, his cheeks flushing. “Fuck, the heat isn’t over.”

“Good,” Mobei Jun turns them over, settling between his mate’s legs. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

After their second round, Qinghu falls asleep cradled in Mobei Jun’s arms. Tear tracks drying on his round cheeks, a contented purr rumbling in his chest, the vibrations traveling across Mobei Jun’s skin and sinking deep into his chest. The peaceful moment clicks another mechanism in his brain into place, a puzzle of moving parts he’s only had the pieces to until now. With Qinghua, things are making more sense, the gears aligning, and clarity taking hold where only uncertainty reigned.

He thinks he has an answer to a question. It scares him, facing the possibility of the unknown, of disregarding expectations he’s carried his whole life. Qinghua is enough for him, and maybe with time and space and a life outside of what he’s always known but has hated nearly every minute of, he can find a purpose that goes beyond a constant battle for power. Struggle, obligation, and duty. It’s all he’s known, to the point that he’s worried he won’t know who he is without it. But he knows one thing within absolute certainty, he is Qinghua’s mate, and that anchor, that surety, will keep him balanced and moving forward.

***

The night is good, really good. Better than Qinghua has ever imagined. His mate is sexy as fuck, like so sexy Qinghua can’t keep his hands off him. When they’re not fucking they’re touching, kissing, wrapping their legs around each other, keeping as close as bodily possible when not locked on a knot. It's as if their bodies are desperately trying to make up for the forced two year separation. 

After a hot shower that of course devolves into another round–what did Mobei Jun expect with a massive sex shower that has multiple faucets–Mobei Jun makes Qinghua noodles. They are…not good. But Qinghua eats them anyway, proclaiming Mobei Jun the king of noodles. Mobei looks adorably sheepish, and promises to get better at cooking, wanting to provide for his love in more ways than a paycheck and sex. 

The next morning, they wake early, eager to start their lives together as a married couple. Qinghua horrifyingly learns that Mobei Jun wakes up in less than a minute, leaping out of bed like a trained soldier the second his alarm goes off. It takes a full thirty minutes to convince Qinghua to even open his eyes, and it’s only achieved once Mobei Jun offers to suck him off in the shower. The moment Qinghua peaks his eyes open, Mobei Jun tosses him over his broad shoulder and carries him into the bathroom. It was worth it for the blowjob.

Over breakfast Mobei Jun calls the government office and confirms the marriage registration office has an appointment available that afternoon due to a last minute cancellation and that they qualify for an expedited registration process due to the prolonged absence after their marking. After grabbing everything Mobei Jun will need for an elopement, including what looks like a tuxedo in a garment bag, they head out. Qinghua calls Shen Yuan from the car to meet him at the office, and to bring Binghe if he wants. The more the merrier. He purposefully doesn’t tell Shen Yuan what they’re going there to do.

“Are you in trouble with the law?” Shen Yuan asks, his haughty tone sounding annoyed as usual.

“No, no nothing like that! Dress nice and tell Binghe to bring his good camera.”

“I’m not spending money to bail you out.”

“Be there in two hours! I won’t forgive you if you don’t show up and we’ll never be friends again!” He hangs up, chuckling at how that will equally piss Shen Yuan off and make him panic. The guy is so obsessed with appearances he needs to be shaken up every now and then. 

“All good?” Mobei Jun asks from the driver’s seat of his pristine luxury car.

“Oh yeah. This is going to be great.” Qinghua can’t help but shimmy happily in his seat. It’s his wedding day!

“Hmm.” Mobei Jun squeezes his hand, keeping his eye on the road but smiling to himself. 

They stop at Shang Qinghua’s apartment so he can dig up something wedding-like to wear. It takes a full hour to register Mobei Jun as his mate and allow him access to the secure building. The only alphas allowed in a government sponsored omega safe building are mated alphas, and even then they need to submit to a background check and a quick swab to ensure their hormone levels are stable. There’s a reason these buildings have such a long waitlist.

“Where will we live after today?” Qinghua asks after Mobei Jun gets his key and they head toward the elevator. “I really don’t think I can physically be apart from you for a while.”

“I can move here, if you’d like,” Mobei Jun takes his hand, threading their fingers together, the need to touch a constant thrum in their veins.

“I live in a studio, I don’t think that will meet your standards. You might not even fit in my bathroom.”

“Do you like my place?” He offers.

“I don’t know, once we were done with our sex romp, the smells from the other apartments began to filter in. I don’t think the scent scrubbers they use in the vents work very well. It might start to bug me after a while.”

“What about a house? We can move out of the city, find some acreage. We can build our own place.”

“That easy? Let's just build a house?” Qinghua grins back at him as they exit the elevator on his floor, walking the short distance down the hall to his door.

“I don’t know if you know this about me, but I am rich.”

Qinghua rolls his eyes at the self-brag, leaning against the entrance to his home. “ Oh, you know I hadn’t noticed. I didn’t notice when we went to the high rise office for our meeting, or when you took me to your multi-level penthouse condo with heated bathroom floors, or when you drove us this morning in a car so fancy I don’t even recognize the brand of the vehicle. So no. Didn’t notice.” 

“Done with the sarcasm?”

“For now.” Qinghua lets them into his small apartment. It's not much to brag about, it’s certainly no penthouse, but it’s safe, there’s hardwood flooring, and all the appliances work. It’s the best place he’s ever lived. “I’ve never lived outside of a city,” he confesses, the concept not something he ever considered. “I don’t know how it will feel to not be able to walk to a corner store for some late night noodles.” Qinghua sighs, hearing how difficult he’s being. “Sorry, I’m being indecisive.”

“It’s understandable.” Mobei Jun runs his knuckles over Qinghua’s cheeks, soothing the rising tension. “A lot has changed for you in the last twenty-four hours. For us.” Mobei Jun sits on the small couch, reaching for Qinghua’s hands. “How about this, we trade off for a while, you living with me, me staying at your place. We can just settle and find our rhythm. I know you work from home and I don’t want to disturb your…process.”

Qinghua snorts, moving in between Mobei Jun’s legs. “It’s not like it's a scientific process. Honestly I’m a night owl, I do a lot of writing after midnight.”

“Well that won’t work.” He pulls Qinghua in closer, his hands nearly spanning the length of Qinghua’s waist.

“Why?” Qinghua leans his body along Mobei’s allowing him to take his full weight.

Mobei bites his lip, not sharp enough to sting but enough to spark a wave of lust intermingling with their scents. “I’ll be too busy having my way with you at night for you to write.”

“Mm,” Qinghua kisses him, a smile on his face. “I’ll call it inspiration.”

“Is our sex life going to make an appearance in your stories?”

“Maybe. Probably,” he laughs, shamelessly.

“I’ll have to get more creative.”

They make out on Qinghua’s couch like horny teenagers kissing alone in their parents house for the first time.  

Eventually, they start to get ready for their wedding. Qinghua finds a white, button down shirt and some white trousers with a matching vest he had to wear for a stupid themed corporate event a few years ago. There aren’t even any noticeable stains on it, a total win. He fixes his hair, pinning some of the curls back and out of his face, and grabs a fake flower crown he bought at an anime con he attended last year. He doesn’t have any proper shoes, but he finds a pair of pink platform boots he’d purchased on a whim after a ten hour writing spree. He may have been delusional from sleep deprivation when he ordered them, but hey, at least they match the flower crown.

He meets Mobei Jun in the living room, already dressed in a deep tux that brings out the crystalline blue of his eyes. Mobei looks up from his phone, and freezes, his mouth shut tight in a thin line as his eyes practically feel Qinghua up. 

“I know it’s not the most conventional wedding attire, but I don’t have any normal suits.” he bites his lip, a blush spreading across his body as the full force of Mobei Jun’s undivided attention makes him weak at the knees. 

“You’re beautiful. Stunning.” Mobei Jun grabs his hips and dips his head into the crook of his neck, the mating mark nearly fully healed and as dark as sin. “I want to undress you.”

“You can’t, we have to leave now, there’s going to be traffic.”

It doesn't stop Mobei Jun from kissing him senseless, which definitely makes them late.

Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe are waiting in the lobby of the government building when they arrive, both dressed nicely.  Shang Qinghua is just happy his best friend isn’t in jeans and a hoodie, his outfit of choice when they hang out. The second Shen Yuan sees them with their hands clasped, wearing what they’re wearing, his mouth drops open and he whacks Binghe in the chest.

“Did you know they knew each other? Did you know we’re here to watch them get married? If you knew and didn’t tell me, you'll be in big trouble.”

“Shizun, I didn’t know. I promise.” He turns on Mobei Jun, his sweet expression morphing into a furious glare. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could tell Shen Yuan?”

“Enough, you freaks.” Qinghua laughs, endlessly amused that the cutthroat titan of business Luo Binghe, is essentially Shen Yuan’s lapdog. “Turns out Mobei Jun is my mate and we’re getting married!”

“Thank you for supporting us.” Mobei Jun glares at both of them, warning them not to object.

Seriously, what’s with all the glares? This is supposed to be a happy day.

“Your mate? He’s the guy? From the bar?” Shen Yuan narrows his eyes suspiciously at Mobei Jun, then grabs Qinghua, dragging him down the hall and out of earshot. “Are you ok? Are you being forced or threatened to do this? We can get you out of here.”

“He’s not coercing me. There have been no bribes. We are already fully mated and it was absolutely consensual.” Qinghua waggles his eyebrows lasciviously. “And it was fucking hot as shit. His dick is hu–”

Shen Yuan ignores his propensity to always mention sex and frowns, still uncertain. “You can tell me, Qinghua. I know Binghe trusts him, but there are rumors about Mobei Jun–”

“They’re false. Bullshit lies his uncle made up to discredit him. I told you about that night. He was drugged and I volunteered. He didn’t force me. He’s not forcing me now. I…love him.” he still can’t get over how quick it is, but there are no other words to describe the absolute surety Qinghua senses in his heart and mind. “It feels right with him.”

“He’s treating you well?”

“Bro, like a fucking king.”

Shen Yuan sighs, his natural inclination toward cynicism and suspicion finally subsiding. “If that changes, if he ever does anything that makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you come to me. We’ll help you.”

“I know, bro.” Qinghua pulls him in for a hug, rocking his best friend back and forth. “Thanks for being my friend.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get emotional.” Qinghua doesn’t tease Shen Yuan for how tightly he squeezes him.

When they return, Shen Yuan whacks Mobei Jun with his fan then points it in his face. “You ever hurt him, it won't be a fan I hit you with. Understand?”

“My husband is so beautiful, protecting his small friend.” Binghe wraps Shen Yuan in a hug, kissing what Qinghua assumes is his mating bite. Shen Yuan is a private person and doesn’t like putting the mark on display. Unlike Qinghua who will be showing it off like a five year old winning a participation trophy to every person he crosses paths with. 

“All right, all right.” Qinghua grabs Mobei Jun’s hand and directs them toward the elevator. “You can obsess over each other any day. Today is about us.” He meets his fiance’s eyes, his smile so wide he can feel his cheeks start to hurt. “We’re getting married.”

The marriage is as quick and bland as Qinghua expected it to be. He loves every minute of it. Qinghua is subjected to a line of questioning about the expediency of their mating and marriage. Shen Yuan stands in as a witness, stating Qinghua is not being pressured. Binghe stands in as a character witness for Mobei Jun, claiming he would never forcibly mate someone. As soon as they are approved the social welfare clerk hands over their documents, directing them to another window, and the paperwork is ready to be signed. 

Binghe catches the moment they sign the documents, the picture a perfect candid shot of both of them with their pens on the paper, looking up at each other with an ecstatic grin (for Qinghua) and a subtle soft smile (for Mobei Jun). Qinghua practically throws the document at the clerk to receive the official stamp, and flings his arms around Mobei Jun, kissing him with every ounce of love he has for him. The office workers clap, enjoying the spectacle, then they’re shuffled down to another window to receive their marriage certificate. 

It all takes less than an hour. An hour for Shang Qinghua’s life to change, for his previously drab, somewhat boring, predictable, life to turn on its heals and wake him the fuck up. Qinghua has been alone for a long time. He never considered himself lonely, though. He had his writing, his get-togethers with Shen Yuan, his fans and his online haters. He was safe, he was free from his father, and he was living. But he wasn’t thriving. He wasn’t happy. Only now, as Mobei Jun kisses him all over his face, Qinghua’s full bodied laughter filling up the nooks and crannies of his soul, does he understand what happiness is. 

He’ll never be alone again.

***

Mobei Jun is married. Mobei Jun has a beautiful mate who loves him and wants him and isn’t afraid of him. Mobei Jun is in a state of happiness he thought impossible. How can one person feel so much at one time for another person? It’s as though his center has shifted, where before he was the center of his world, and now it’s Qinghua. 

Binghe turns to Mobei Jun as they take the elevator back down to the lobby. “I’m happy for you, but I have to be honest, I’m concerned about what your uncle is going to do. He won’t be happy you’ve found your mate.”

Luo Binghe knows the machinations of Linguang Jun all too well, often aiding Mobei Jun in his efforts to thwart his uncle’s plans. 

The elevator dings as they reach the lobby, and Shen Yuan drags Qinghua off to a sunny spot to take pictures of his wedding outfit with Binghe’s camera. 

“I’ve been thinking about your offer,” Mobei Jun says, leaning against the wall and watching his mate.

“To come work with me?” Binghe asks. 

“I think it’s time I move on. I’ve been circling the drain, trying to fight my way out without seeing results. It’s not worth it.”

It’s hard to admit, but Qinghua was right. This isn’t what he really wants. 

Binghe whistles long and slow, not bothering to his surprise. “Your whole life has been about one upping your uncle. You sure you’re ready to give it up.”

“There’s something more important now.”

 “Aw, you’re acting so cute I might cry.”

Mobei Jun shoots him a quick glare, ignoring his comment in favor of watching his mate take selfies with his best friend. 

“You’ll hire me?” he asks, looking back at Binghe. He isn’t worried he won’t be able to find a job after he quits, but it’s nice to have assurances.

“I’ve kept that position open for years, just waiting for you. You may not be able to take your uncle down from the inside, but we’ll make him wish he never lost you.” Binghe laughs, almost maniacally. Mobei Jun has always thought there was something a little off about him. “How long does your noncompete last?”

“Two years.”

“Send me your contract,” Qinghua says, wrapping his arms around his husband. Mobei Jun almost jumps at the touch, not having heard him walk over. “Don’t forget where I used to work. I’m pretty damn good when it comes to contracts. I’ll find you a loophole to exploit.”

Binghe claps him on the shoulder, giving him a nod in congratulations, then pushes off from the wall to join his husband.

“You’re really quitting?” Qinghua’s voice is laced with a tentative hope, one that only reaffirms his decision.

“You made me understand I don’t need it.” Mobei Jun frames his face, unable to not touch those round cheeks for more than a few hours at a time. “I was fighting for something I never cared about.”

“Are you sure?” Qinghua whispers, not bothering to keep his glee contained.

“Mm, this sure.” He kisses Qinghua, his mate, his husband. The person he’s going to dedicate the rest of his life to.

“Husband!” Shang Qinghua sighs into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Mobei Jun’s shoulders. “We need a honeymoon.”

“Where would you like to go?” Mobei Jun laughs as Qinghua jumps into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist.

Qinghua rests his forehead against his mate’s.

“Anywhere with you.”