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Chapter Text

Gao Tu shakily gripped the bathroom sink and forced himself to meet his reflection. His face was pale, eyes sunken in their sockets and his hair was a mess; damp strands pressed to his forehead. He tried to take slow, deep breaths as the latest wave of nausea passed. He knew he couldn’t continue like this. He was barely two months into his pregnancy and already the absence of affection from his baby’s Alpha father was taking both a physical and mental tole on him.

It had been difficult enough to listen to Mr Shen’s many criticisms of him before. He’d felt pangs of hurt every time his boss had pointed out the flaws in his reports, his home, even the tea he’d bought especially for him in the hopes he’d once again come to his door.

But ever since that fateful evening when Shen Wenlang had taken him in that supply room, claimed him in heat and created that brand new life inside him, every harsh word felt like a dagger. Every frown and insult made him want to whimper and bare his throat. Anything to appease the Alpha his heart felt was his, even without a permanent mark on his neck. He wanted to be good, to be pleasing. He wanted his Alpha to be happy with him, not constantly frustrated as he always seemed to be these days.

His whole body longed for the Alpha’s touch and soothing pheromones. The comfort that only an Alpha could provide. His body ached for it.

The doctor had warned him how hard the pregnancy would be without the Alpha father’s support. But facing those rejections every day was hell. He knew he had to resign. Not only because without his suppressants and inhibitors, Mr Shen would soon find out about his true secondary gender, but because he didn’t think he could stand being in his presence like this for much longer. It was just too painful. Too much and not nearly enough.

It would be torture to leave the Alpha behind; even the thought of doing so ripped at his already fragile heart. But the weaker he got, the worse it would be for his baby. Gao Tu pressed his hand to his settling stomach. He had a new priority now. He couldn’t have Shen Wenlang, but he could have his child. He could raise this child in the love he never found. He would give his child anything. His own heart be-damned.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would resign.

Behind his eyes, Shen Wenlang’s head throbbed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe out the tension that cramped his shoulders.

Damn Hua Yong and his ridiculous romantic crusade.

Now he was having to deal with the loss of projects because Sheng Shaoyou decided to get into a pissing contest with HS Group as revenge for him kidnapping his Omega and he had to find ways to pull his company’s reputation out of a hole. Honestly the whole thing made him want to slam his head on his desk. He’d certainly slam Hua Yong’s head into a desk if he thought he could even get close enough. Smug bastard.

Being President Sheng’s punching bag for a crime he didn’t even commit was bad enough, but the number of times he found himself having to square up with him and exploit his pheromones in public just to keep up the facade was getting absurd.

And he was getting worried about how often Gao Tu ended up as the one between them, taking a battering from both their S-Class pheromones. The amount he struggled as a Beta was utterly concerning, often reaching for his asthma inhaler after any interaction between the two Alphas. Shen Wenlang was worried, and that made him angry - and irritable.

Even more so by the fact he was sure he could feel Gao Tu pulling away from him and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

And like the jealous fool he was, it only made him more cutting with his words, lashing out unfairly towards the man. He regretted it every time, when Gao Tu had left his office and his few senses finally returned to him. Always too late for an apology.

He collapsed back into his office chair.

The secretary stirred something in him. He’s never been able to place it. He couldn’t place it when they met back at school, and he couldn’t place it now. He was drawn to him. He might have even suspected Gao Tu was using luring pheromones if it wasn’t physically impossible for the Beta to produce them.

Privately, he’d even hoped - foolishly - that perhaps one day Gao Tu might learn to return his feelings. That one day they could share everything. Wenlang would happily give him his wealth, his home, his name. Himself.

His heart twisted. He’d never voiced it, not even to himself, that he’d idiotically saved himself for his secretary. Throughout the years, no one had ever compared. He’d spent every rut alone, taking himself in hand and thinking only of a certain Beta’s sparkling eyes, framed by glasses.

He’d had dreams. Even knowing they were nearing delusion, there was always a slim chance that maybe… someday…

Not anymore.

Now some faceless Omega had taken that chance from him.

He knew he was being unfair. That it was just an unlucky twist of fate and biology, not a personally targeted attack, that he had met an Omega stranded in heat who he had an over 90% compatibility with. He knew that Omega was probably just as distressed if not more so to have spent a heat unplanned with an unknown Alpha, without even a nest for comfort.

Even knowing all of that, he couldn’t help the anger that filled him, and that horrible sense of loss he felt.

As if the world wasn’t cruel enough, he was constantly forced to acknowledge the fact that Gao Tu was out there right now with his Omega partner. He’d been with her for years, disappearing regularly to accompany her heats, and in all that time he never introduced her to him. He never even told him her name.

Shen Wenlang was ready to share every small part of himself with the man, and it killed him that he wasn’t important enough to him to share this huge part of his life.

He was a jealous man. He knew it, and he knew that jealousy turned him into something he was ashamed of. He hated that nameless Omega Gao Tu was so devoted to. Hated everything she represented and the distance she drove between him and his beautiful secretary.

So he was cruel. He spoke against her whenever he could, insulting her secondary gender and trying to warn Gao Tu against her Omega manipulation and tricks, warning him not to bring that Omega stench into his workplace.

He learned to hate that sweet, refreshing sage scent that would hover around his secretary when he’d eventually return from leave. He hated it, and he hated her, and he hated himself.

But he never hated Gao Tu.

He didn’t think his soul knew how.

Because however hurt he felt knowing the only man he’d ever loved, loved someone else, Gao Tu was and always would be his priority.

So when he heard that Gao Tu requested sickness leave so soon after returning from leave with his Omega, Shen Wenlang couldn’t shake the primal need to go and check on him.

Chapter Text

Gao Tu braced his forearms on the small table for support as he sat typing his handover notes on his phone between sips of that white tea that Shen Wenlang had hated so much. It offered some warmth to his weak body that lately seemed to hang onto the chill.

His fingers moved nimbly across the keypad, hardly having to think as he recorded down from memory, Shen Wenlang’s favourite spots for lunch, his preferences for meeting times, the number for his dry cleaner, and all the other small rhythms of his day that someone else would have to learn.

Gao Tu’s chest clenched as he thought about someone else taking on his responsibilities. Someone else making President Shen’s tea, checking his schedule, cajoling him to meetings with clients he especially disliked.

He reminded himself that Shen Wenlang would survive without him - would probably hardly even notice his absence. So he refocused his efforts on his notes, determined to document every detail he could think of so that Mr Shen’s life would continue as comfortably as he could make it. This was the final act of service Gao Tu could offer. His final display of care, even knowing his oldest friend would never appreciate it for how it was intended.

The knock at the door had Gao Tu’s thoughts screeching to a holt, his heart suddenly hammering beneath his ribs. His eyes frantically scanned the room but it was already apparent how his unsuppressed Omega scent had been flooding the place.

His instinct had him about to reach towards his chest of drawers for a quick fix injection before his brain caught up with him. No more. Nothing that would risk his baby.

But panic made it impossible to think. What could he do? There was no time to flush the scent from the house or scrub it from his skin where it clung like a film. His head was pounding as he tried to form any plan, any excuse.

“Gao Tu?”

No. Please no

Shen Wenlang’s voice was calling him from the other side of the door and all the air was knocked out of Gao Tu’s lungs.

Anyone but him.

For a second the Omega froze. Perhaps he could just not open the door. Shen Wenlang wasn’t known for his patience. Maybe he’d just go away.

Further knocks rattled the door. “Gao Tu, I know you’re in there!”

There was a clunk as Gao Tu’s shaking hands accidentally knocked over his mug, sending tea spilling across the table and off the edge into his lap. Instinctively, Gao Tu jumped up away from the hot water, but his feet had barely touched the floor before dark spots exploded across his vision.

One hand grasped his throbbing head whilst the other tried to grip the table for balance as he felt the blood drain from his face. Before he could make a sound, everything faded to darkness and Gao Tu’s body collapsed to the floor.

On the other side of the door, Shen Wenlang tapped his foot restlessly as he fought with himself to just knock on the damn door.

Shen Wenlang was no coward, but something about Gao Tu always made him second guess himself. He knew he had a habit of always saying the wrong thing, even when he tried to show his regard for the younger man. Gao Tu made a fool of him.

Well he made a fool of himself, but it only seemed to happen when in the Beta’s company. The Alpha ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He debated turning on his heel and just going back to the office. It would be better than standing awkwardly outside an employee’s home when he wasn’t sure he’d even be invited in.

He looked down at the plastic bag from the pharmacy clenched tightly in his fist. He’d bought a selection of anti-nausea medicine and soothing herbal remedies he hoped wouldn’t taste too awful.

Gao Tu had never been the best at looking after himself. It seemed his health had steadily been getting worse over the years they’d known each other and Shen Wenlang was becoming increasingly worried for the man - even if he seemed unable to express it through anything other than frustrated comments.

Wenlang so desperately wished the Beta would take better care of himself, so much so he had to control his Alpha instincts to simply make him. But he couldn’t do that to Gao Tu. Never without a claim, without permission. And that permission would never come, so it was better just to put it out of his mind. 

But this was the first time, outside of his scheduled heat-support leave, that Gao Tu had ever called out on leave for more than 5 consecutive days. That more than anything convinced him to raise his hand to knock. Even if Shen Wenlang wasn’t welcome, he’d lay eyes on the man for himself, reassure himself Gao Tu was safe and cared for, hand him the medicine, and go on his way.

When he didn’t hear footsteps after the first knock, Wenlang called out to him. Still nothing. Hurt at the idea that the Beta really was ignoring him, the Alpha raised his voice a little louder and knocked again.

“Gao Tu, I know you’re in there!”

There was a muffled crash.

Frowning, Shen Wenlang raised his hand to knock a third time. Before his knuckles even touched the wood he heard a scrape of furniture followed by a loud thud. Alarm shot through him, his ears pricking to listen for any other sounds, only to be met with silence. He pressed his palms up against the wood, as though he could touch the man through it.

“Gao Tu?! What was that? Can you hear me?”

He pushed back from the door and stepped to the left to peer in through the closed window. His heart seized at the sight of his secretary’s crumpled body on the floor. “Gao Tu!” he shouted, frantically grasping for the door handle. When it didn’t budge, Shen Wenlang took two steps back and furiously rammed the door with his shoulder, bursting it open.

Immediately he was smacked in the face with the overpowering scent of sage, forcing him to take a step back. Blinking furiously in an attempt to refocus, Shen Wenlang’s thoughts turned unbidden to that Omega wretch who was clearly just here, but still dared to leave his Gao Tu alone in such a condition. He bit back a growl and shook his head. She didn’t matter. Only Gao Tu mattered.

In a second he was kneeling by Gao Tu’s side, one hand already moving to cup his face while the other sought out his pulse, before his whole body froze. His nose instantly registered it but his brain refused to compute.

Because… because it was impossible.

It just wasn’t possible that the sage scent permeating the room - growing steadily stronger by the second - could be emanating from Gao Tu’s unconscious body.

A Beta. Gao Tu was a Beta. Through all those years of school, university, and now every day working side by side - Gao Tu wouldn’t have lied all this time. He couldn’t have. There was no way it could be true.

But it was.

The evidence was undeniable, wrapping around him with every breath. That scent, rich and heady and so utterly, unmistakably Omega.

Shen Wenlang’s mind stuttered, trying to reconcile years of painful certainty with the unthinkable truth filling his lungs.

Omega. Gao Tu was an Omega. Had always been an Omega. The implications threatened to crashed over him so he held his breath for a moment and forced himself back to the present.

Later.

Right now, Gao Tu needed him.

Gently he scooped the Beta - No, the Omega - into his arms. Gao Tu’s head lolled into the crook of his neck and instinctively the man’s unconscious breathing changed to a deeper rhythm as his body took in the Alpha’s scent. A relieved sigh escaped through Gao Tu's parted lips, the air brushing against Shen Wenlang’s throat.

He tried to ignore the niggling of Alpha pride that washed over him at Gao Tu’s involuntary reaction and focused on carefully carrying him to his bed.

Laying him down, Shen Wenlang gently took off the younger man’s slippers and tucked him under his blankets. Allowing himself to spend a moment gazing at Gao Tu’s face, his own brow furrowed seeing the tension within the Omega’s expression and the sweat that dampened strands of his hair. Ever so carefully, Wenlang removed Gao Tu’s glasses and placed them on the bedside table. 

He took a seat on the edge of his mattress and pressed the back of his fingers to Gao Tu’s forehead. Far too hot. Hesitating only a moment, he stepped away to prop the front door closed, grabbed a bowl of cool water and a cloth, and returned as soon as he could, resuming his position beside him.

Shen Wenlang lay the damp towel across Gao Tu’s forehead, and gently pressed it before letting his fingertips glide down to brush across his cheekbones. His face was so pale, his dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes, and yet he was still the most beautiful person Shen Wenlang had ever seen.

He drew in a shaky breath before he turned to glance around the room. Shen Wenlang's eyes flicked between the spilt tea, the cracked door and the spot where he dropped his bag of medicine. He stared at the clothing rack, bare except for Gao Tu’s work suit, the single set of crockery drying on the dashboard. The room was so sparsely decorated but clearly cleaned with such care and attention.

It was all so distinctly solitary… lonely.

How had he missed it?

He stopped short at the sight of the small tea caddy propped accusingly by the kettle. He knew Gao Tu had bought it for him and he had thrown his kindness back in his face. All because of some nameless Omega who evidently didn’t even exist. There had only ever been Gao Tu. Guilt gnawed at him.

Just one more drop in the sea of unforgivable cruelties towards the man.

Around him Shen Wenlang felt the weight of the wreckage of everything he thought he knew closing in. He dropped his head into his hands and finally surrendered to the whirlwind of grief.

Chapter Text

As the waves of hurt crashed against him, Shen Wenlang kept an iron clad hold on his pheromones. No matter how they swirled and pulsed inside him, begging to be let out, he couldn’t afford to completely fall apart. Not yet. He would not risk Gao Tu. Not for anything.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, head in his hands, shielding his eyes and his nose from the onslaught of truth that shook his very foundations, his thoughts whirring. Time felt meaningless in the wake of everything that had shattered.

All of it had been a lie.

Gao Tu’s lie.

The betrayal cut deeper than it should have. They’d known each other for over a decade - ten years of comfortable companionship, of meals and meetings shared together, of being so well versed in each other’s thoughts that a shared look was all they needed to understand each other. And in all that time, Gao Tu never let anything slip. Had never trusted him to tell the truth.

But why would he?

His stomach twisted painfully. Shen Wenlang knew his views on Omegas were no secret - he’d made sure of that. He’d built his reputation on his destain, a reputation that extended beyond the confines of his company. He didn’t trust Omegas. They were manipulative and dependent, using tears and pretty looks and subtle luring pheromones to get what they wanted. Shen Wenlang had never spared his insults, had never been a place of safety or compassion. Could he truly be surprised?

But perhaps Gao Tu’s explanation had more practical origins. Alpha CEOs, especially S-Tiers, tended to have Beta secretaries. The lack of their own pheromones and an increased tolerance of those from others offered stability in potentially volatile workplaces. Alpha clashes could be common between higher-tiers when it came to disputes and it was not only more effective but safer for a Beta to mediate than risk an Omega’s health or add further fuel to the fire with a third Alpha party.

Alpha secretaries like Secretary Chang were extremely rare, though Shen Wenlang knew well enough that only a fellow high-class Alpha like him could dream of keeping up with Hua Yong’s craziness. An Omega senior secretary was damn near unheard of.

So maybe Gao Tu had hidden it for professional reasons. Maybe it started as a way to secure and keep his job.

But that couldn’t be it either.

They’d met in high school. Years before Wenlang suggested he apply to his company - not that Shen Wenlang ever told Gao Tu he’d created the role especially for him.

But Gao Tu would have already designated years before then - would have been hiding his identity for years before they’d even crossed paths.

Why lie to a classmate? Why lie from the very beginning. And not just to him - he’d seen his records. Gao Tu was registered under HS Group as a Beta, all his admission paperwork from school and university had listed him as a Beta. There had never been any indication that Gao Tu was anything other than a Beta.

When on earth had this all started?

Shen Wenlang gaze drifted back at Gao Tu’s face, pale and drawn even in sleep. His breathing was too shallow, too laboured.

Maybe he couldn’t understand why the lie had started. But Shen Wenlang knew, with a sickening certainty that made his throat tight, exactly why it had never stopped.

Anxiety thrummed through Shen Wenlang’s veins, sharp and insistent. His breathing had gone shallow without him realising it, his hands trembling slightly where they rested on his knees. His Alpha instincts screamed at him to protect the unconscious Omega, to attack the threat that had caused him harm, to do something. But there was no one to fight and he reminded himself over and over that Gao Tu was safe, nestled beneath the blankets.

Shen Wenlang removed the cloth to soak it again in the cool water before replacing it on Gao Tu’s forehead. He took his time to smooth the blankets, brushing a lock of hair away from Gao Tu’s closed eyes. His own roved over the Omega. There truly was nothing else to do for him in the meantime so he cast his gaze back to the wider room, his hands itching.

Without realising he had taken the steps away from the bed, Shen Wenlang found himself righting the tipped mug and mopping up the spilt tea with a discarded tea towel. He worked on autopilot, the mundane task giving his hands something to do, even if it did nothing to quieten his mind. He washed the mug in the orange sink, placing it upside down to dry, then retrieved the bag of medicine and methodically unpacked it, placing the items neatly on the bedside table beside Gao Tu’s glasses. Behind his forced calm, his anxiety was building, edging on panic.

Seated once more by Gao Tu’s side, Shen Wenlang found his phone in his hand before he’d consciously decided to reach for it, his thumb hovering over his emergency contact. The hospital. He should call the hospital. Gao Tu was still unconscious. Was it only sleep or something more? What if he’d hit his head when he fell? There were too many unanswered questions. He should call a professional.

A whimper escaped Gao Tu and all Shen Wenlang’s attention snapped to him, his phone forgotten. Groggily, Gao Tu’s eyes opened, unfocused but searching. His head lolled as his mouth tried to move but no sound came out. Shen Wenlang shifted himself closer and took one of the Omega’s hands in his.

“Gao Tu. Gao Tu, can you hear me?”

Wenlang searched his expression for any comprehension, any flicker of recognition but Gao Tu’s gaze remained unfocused, as if he was trapped somewhere far away. His expression crumpled, his eyes suddenly shut tight against some onslaught of pain, though Shen Wenlang couldn’t identify its source. All he knew was that Gao Tu was suffering.

His Alpha instincts rose once more, his urge to hold, protect and shelter had the hairs on the back of his neck raised. Instead, after an inner battle of turmoil and hesitation, he forced his voice into a gentle lilt. “Gao Tu, listen to me. Can you hear me? I’m here. Gao Tu, can I - do you want some soothing pheromones? It’ll help, I promise...’

He had barely said the words before he felt Gao Tu’s hand tighten in his own where they were joined. Another whimper bubbled behind Gao Tu’s lips. His eyes, which glistened with unshed tears, remained glazed but had come to rest on the face above him.

“Please-” He gasped quietly, “Alpha, please it hurts…”

“Shhh.” Wenlang gently shushed the distressed Omega, his hand moving to cover Gao Tu’s gland at his throat and finally let forth the pheromones he’d been holding back. He allowed his soothing iris scent to envelop the younger man, wrap itself around him like a protective barrier. Instantly Gao Tu’s face relaxed, tension bleeding out of him as his muscles unclenched and he sunk back into the mattress.

Shen Wenlang’s hand pressed down carefully on his gland before moving up to cradle Gao Tu’s face, his thumb gently tracing across his cheekbone as praise and reassurance fell from his lips. “There you go. Sweet thing, you’re ok. You’re alright, pretty Omega. Shush, you’re safe. You’re ok now. I’m here." The words felt foreign on his tongue and yet so right, flowing out of him like his pheromones, unchecked and instinctual.

Gao Tu closed his eyes as he settled, a tear tracing down his cheek even as his mouth relaxed into something that was almost a smile. Shen Wenlang’s thumb wiped away the tear and he let out his own ragged sigh of relief when Gao Tu turned his face to nuzzle into his hand. The softest of trills came from the Omega’s throat as his sage scent bloomed with sweetness, no longer filled with the bitter notes it held before. Wenlang’s eyes burned. He continued to gently shush him until the man was asleep once more.

Chapter Text

The soothing pheromones had calmed him, but Gao Tu’s temperature was still too high. The fever was still there, lurking. This had only been a short reprieve. Shen Wenlang could feel it in the tension that had returned to the Omega’s shoulders, could see it in the way his fingers twitched occasionally against the sheets. His body was still fighting.

An hour passed. Maybe two. Shen Wenlang lost track of time, his hand still pressed against Gao Tu’s cheek as he continued to offer what comfort he could through steady pheromones. He knew he should pull away but he couldn’t bear to break this fragile moment. 

Gao Tu had always shied away from touch, refraining himself to only professional handshakes when they were required. Though now Wenlang was forced to wonder whether that was entirely a personal preference or had merely been yet another survival strategy Gao Tu had engrained into himself, a trained behaviour to avoid possible detection. 

The Alpha had always tried to respect his boundaries. He’d contented himself with bumping shoulders casually at school instead of sharing hugs, spent years holding back his instinct to reach out and take his friend and then employee’s wrist, relished every moment their fingers had brushed when handing over files. But this was something else entirely. A new kind of intimacy that burned his palm in a way that had nothing to do with Gao Tu’s fever. And Shen Wenlang wasn’t ready to let it end yet. 

His eyes traced the Omega’s face as he considered what other behaviours Gao Tu may have learned in the name of secrecy. He searched his memory for clues, replaying their years worth of interactions for the signs that he had missed.

As the memories played across his mind, Shen Wenlang found himself doubting everything he thought he knew about the man for the second time that day. The respectful space Gao Tu kept between them in the office, the two steps behind him Gao Tu insisted on maintaining as they walked, the way he stayed close to the door when he entered to give reminders, subtly checking if scent clung to hand before coming any closer. Suddenly all that professional etiquette looked a lot like avoidance, like a deliberate barrier carefully erected between them. A desperation from Gao Tu for distance… from him. 

He thought of Gao Tu’s habit of keeping his right hand tucked behind his back, preferring to gesture with his left. Not a quirk after all, but an instinct to keep his secondary gland as far from others as possible.

Another thought flashed in his mind, his eyes glancing to the clothing rack in the corner, and the realisation hit Shen Wenlang like a truck - even Gao Tu’s damn suit had had been a calculated layer of protection. The man wore the same impeccable navy suit day in and day out. His shirts crisp and ironed, his collar always fully buttoned, his tie perfectly tightened and straight - always, always covering his scent gland. 

Unlike the pretty lacy collars some Omega’s liked to wear to draw attention to their glands or permanent marks, Gao Tu’s starched dress-shirt collar had hidden his. Constrained it, swallowed it, as if by covering it he could erase the threat of its existence. 

Shen Wenlang's eyes locked onto Gao Tu’s current neckline. Unlike his stiff work shirts, his current shirt sat in a gentle slope, exposing his long neck and the edge of his collarbone. He looked so soft.

He swallowed as he stared at Gao Tu’s throat lying bare and vulnerable before him.

Inviting.

Immediately Shen Wenlang pulled back, finally forcing himself to draw his hand back from Gao Tu’s skin as he clawed back his sudden urge to claim. 

Unacceptable. 

Wenlang shook his head sharply as if he could dislodge the unbidden desire. What was wrong with him? He’d only known about Gao Tu’s true designation for a handful of hours and already his Alpha hind-brain pushed him to take what was not freely given. Gao Tu was unconscious, fevered and pained. And Wenlang’s first instinct was to take advantage? Indulge in some aggressive Alpha urge to mark him when Gao Tu couldn’t consent, couldn’t refuse?

The shame of it burned as he forced himself to look away from that exposed throat, guilt sitting heavy in his chest. What right did Shen Wenlang have to even consider such things? His desire to protect had come far too late.

He thought of all the times Gao Tu had flinched from him and his words, so subtle the Alpha would barely register it at the time. Every careless comment about Omegas being disgusting, manipulative, about them using their biology as a weapon. Gao Tu would go still, his gaze dropping, shoulders tensing before that neutral mask slid back into place. Shen Wenlang had been sure that Gao Tu was merely prickling with frustration at the comments in his Omega partner’s defence.

The Alpha’s jaw clenched as he realised how many off-handed comments Gao Tu would have taken to heart. How many times Shen Wenlang’s words must have pierced him, wounding his confidence and self-worth.

But if all that was true, words hadn’t been the only way the Alpha had hurt the Omega.

If all that was true, Shen Wenlang had repeatedly put Gao Tu in very real danger.

The memories hit him like ice water. Every meeting with Sheng Shaoyou that had devolved into posturing, every time their tempers had flared and the air had grown thick with hostile pheromones, every time they’d come to blows - Gao Tu had been there for all of it, maintaining his infuriatingly calm professionalism. Gao Tu had stepped between them.

Shen Wenlang’s stomach dropped.

He’d seen first hand the effect those confrontations had on the man. Had seen how pale he’d go, witnessed the tremors in his hands that he’d tried to hide. Heard how laboured Gao Tu’s breathing would become until he reached for his inhaler. 

Shen Wenlang had warned him to be careful after the last time had caused Gao Tu to be hospitalised, but he never really did anything to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. And he knew it would. He knew without a doubt that if the occasion arose, Gao Tu would still step between him and Sheng Shaoyou, even as one hand would clutch at his chest. His head bowed beneath their pheromones, Gao Tu would still force himself to meet both Alphas’ eyes. He would make them stop, even if it killed him.

And it could have.

The knowledge that Shen Wenlang could have lost Gao Tu because of his own bloody pride nearly took him to his knees.

God, how many times? How many times had Gao Tu put himself in mortal danger just to keep Wenlang from doing something stupid? What had Shen Wenlang done to deserve that level of loyalty, of devotion? Why would Gao Tu risk it all for a man who was so cruel and dismissive? 

Shen Wenlang wanted to scream.

His head spun from his unanswered questions combined with the enthralling scent of their blended sage and iris pheromones, making it impossible to focus. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Shen Wenlang couldn’t even imagine what it would take to conceal an Omega’s nature to present as a Beta. Even Hua Yong, as psychotic as he was, only chemically altered the way others interpreted his pheromones, softening his existing scent into something that presented Omega. The idea of suppressing it completely? It was barbaric. Inhumane. 

Why would he… 

How did he… 

The image of a small, blue, plastic object flashed behind his eyelids. His eyes flared open with dangerous determination, a growl barely kept behind his teeth.

Ignoring his urge to rip the place apart, Shen Wenlang searched the room steadily for the inhaler, ensuring every item was returned to its home after being checked. Opening a drawer, his eyes landed on the small device and found he had to control his strength not to crack it as he picked it up, his anxiety mounting once again.

Shen Wenlang barely glanced at the label on the casing, instead he pulled out the vial of medicine and closely examined the small print wrapped around it.

‘Omega Heat Inhibitor Spray. For emergency use only. Single inhalation per dose. DO NOT exceed recommended dosage. DO NOT take with painkillers. Prolonged use may result in serious health complications and pheromone disorders’

The words blurred. Shen Wenlang had to read them twice before they made sense. 

Not asthma medication. Heat Inhibitor.

This wasn't for masking scent or regulating cycles. This was emergency medication. The kind Omegas used when they were caught in Heat unexpectedly, when they needed to dull the worst of it long enough to reach safety. Single use per Heat Spike. Emergency only.

And Gao Tu had been using it regularly.

The sharpness of the memory pierced him: Gao Tu in the car after that ridiculous confrontation with Sheng Shaoyou, his hands shaking so badly he couldn't get his bag open, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Inhaler. My inhaler," Gao Tu had gasped out, pale and trembling. “I need my inhaler.”

Wenlang had found it for him. Had pulled this very inhaler from his bag and pressed it into Gao Tu’s desperate hands even as he had begun to lean away, evidently trying to hide his scent as his pheromones threatened to overflow. Shen Wenlang had watched him take three - no, four - rapid puffs, one after another. Had driven him to the hospital clinic afterward, confused by how badly his "asthma" had affected him that day.

But he hadn't been having an asthma attack.

Gao Tu been going into heat. Right there beside Shen Wenlang in the car. Was he really that blind?

The doctor’s verbal lashing rang in his ears. At the time he’d been so confused, no idea how his issue with Omegas could possibly relate to Gao Tu’s illness. The doctor had basically handed the truth to him on a plate and he’d been too ignorant to see it. 

And Shen Wenlang had personally handed him the medication that was slowly poisoning him, without a single question. He could kick himself. How many times had he seen Gao Tu use this? More times than he could count - and increasingly frequently in the last few months. 

Too frequently. Far, far too frequently.

The label’s warning flashed in neon letters behind his eyes: ‘Prolonged use may result in serious health complications and pheromone disorders.’

And suddenly Shen Wenlang understood the stumbling, the slow responses, the paleness and the lost weight. All the nagging concerns from the back of his mind over the symptoms of Gao Tu’s mysterious health decline became blaring alarms pointing to a pheromone disorder. A serious one.

Gao Tu had been poisoning himself. Slowly, methodically, just to maintain his secret. To keep his job, to stay by Wenlang’s side, to keep anyone from finding out. 

And he had helped him do it.

Shen Wenlang’s hands were shaking, the inhaler impossibly heavy in his fist. He’d trusted Gao Tu. Trusted he’d tell him if he ever needed help. Trusted that he’d never hide something so serious. He’d trusted Gao Tu to tell him the truth. Nothing had ever given him reason to doubt him. He knew about his sister’s illness, knew he struggled financially and had done since high school when he worked four jobs over the summer to afford his tuition. He thought he knew the man’s fears, his shames and secrets.

Even now, knowing the part he’d surely played in Gao Tu’s self-destruction, his heart lurched to know how much Gao Tu had hidden from him without a second thought.

Blind. He’d been so catastrophically blind.

The fury that rose in Shen Wenlang's chest had nowhere to go. He wanted to rage at Gao Tu for being so reckless with his own life. Wanted to hunt down whoever had made him feel this was his only option. Wanted to destroy every system, every prejudice, every casual cruelty that had backed Gao Tu into this corner, including himself.

But then another thought crashed around him. The Heat Inhibitor was just that. It kept his heat at bay, controlled an onslaught of pheromones but it couldn’t stifle scent - didn’t eliminate it completely. Gao Tu didn’t wear suppressant patches, that would have been a dead giveaway that he couldn’t have been a Beta. So what was he using? 

His strides back to Gao Tu’s side were too controlled, too measured. His jaw clenched. He squared his shoulders but his hands remained gentle as he took Gao Tu’s arm, slowly rolling up his left sleeve.

There. Small puncture marks, faint but unmistakeable. Evidence of injected suppressants. Abusing inhibitors or suppressants was bad enough, but together - potentially lethal. A desperate cocktail no Omega should ever have to combine. 

Just another way Gao Tu had been putting his life at risk. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

It was one thing to lie, but another completely to put himself in this much danger. His protective instincts were going haywire.

Shen Wenlang wasn’t sure if he was mentally kicking Gao Tu or himself.

His company made this stuff. He knew the risks, approved the wording for the warnings plastered all over the packaging. And still he hadn’t see the signs. Every day he worked alongside the younger man, every day was a chance to finally notice, and he’d failed. His blind faith in Gao Tu’s words had caused him to ignore the cry for help the man’s body had unwillingly displayed.

He slowly pulled the sleeve back down and grasped Gao Tu’s hand in both of his own, squeezing gently.

His mind couldn’t wrap itself around it all. How hard must this have all been for Gao Tu? What had he gone through to make him feel this was his only option? And how on earth had he kept enduring these measures through all these years? Medically it shouldn’t be possible. 

At the heart of it all, Shen Wenlang just couldn’t understand why Gao Tu would do this to himself.

That stopped him short. Was he doing this to himself? Or was someone else making him?

If all those scheduled heat-support leaves had actually been for his own heat, Gao Tu clearly had regular and intense long-lasting ones. Had he been spending them alone or in another’s arms?

Gao Tu had lied about having an Omega partner, but that didn’t mean he never had any partner. Maybe his own designation wasn’t the only one he had lied about.

The image appeared unbidden and unwelcome of the man before him flushed, not with fever but with heat, writhing in the bedsheets where he now lay almost frighteningly still - another Alpha or even a Beta holding him close, trying to satisfy him, care for him, claim him. The very idea triggered an explosive wave of possessive fury that took Shen Wenlang’s breath away.

He pulled back once again, shifting himself further down the bed to make space, his hands clenched in fists in his lap.

Gao Tu’s health was more important than his envy.

And what did it matter? Even if Gao Tu was single, had spent every heat alone - why would he want Wenlang now? If Gao Tu had once held him in good regard, surely it had been shattered long ago by his years of insults towards those who shared his secondary gender, not to mention the direct and personal attacks he’d constantly thrown at the man.

His mind fogged, unable to hold a single thread as his thoughts jumbled together. Their combined scent floated around them, a gentle combination of his comforting pheromones of iris and Gao Tu’s sage. The Omega’s scent had pulled back the further into sleep he fell and iris had become the most dominant scent in the room. 

Shen Wenlang wanted more. Because for all that Gao Tu had lied to him, he’d been lying to himself for just as long.

That warm, earthy smell had never been disgusting as he’d claimed, it was heady, musky and sweet. Nothing even close to unpleasant.

And knowing now that that scent was not from a rival as he’d believed - not a mark of ownership claimed on his Gao Tu - but from the beautiful man himself, Shen Wenlang was completely mesmerised. He wanted to roll in it. He’d wear it like a badge of honour if the Omega would only let him.

Shen Wenlang knew he shouldn’t do it, that he had no right to. He had no claim and Gao Tu had not given him permission. Because as much as it ripped at his heart - Gao Tu wasn’t his. 

It would be intrusive and inappropriate, certainly deserving of a thorough scolding from the man when he woke up, but Shen Wenlang couldn’t help himself. This might be his only chance, and he was desperate enough to grasp it with both hands.

Knowing he was overstepping so many boundaries but compelled by a dark, primal need, Shen Wenlang leaned over Gao Tu’s sleeping body. He pressed his nose firmly into the hollow of his throat, right over his gland and scented the Omega, breathing deeply and letting his intense aroma overwhelm his senses. 

Two things hit the Alpha at once.

The first - Gao Tu’s scent was perfect, wrapping around him like coming home. Sage and something warmer, richer underneath, something that called to every Alpha instinct Shen Wenlang possessed. It was intoxicating in a way that felt dangerous and achingly familiar in a way he couldn’t explain - like his body remembered something his mind had forgotten. 

The second - Gao Tu was pregnant.

Chapter Text

Pregnant.

Shen Wenlang’s mind refused to process it, as if his brain had gone into complete system failure.

Pregnant.

He knew what the word meant. But trying to apply it to Gao Tu, the unconscious man before him, who up to a few hours ago had been parading around as the ever-steady Beta - it was like trying to speak a language he’d never learned.

When the cold hard fact - Pregnant - finally did compute, Shen Wenlang was forced to viciously stamp down on the ugly jealousy that suddenly raged inside him. He had no right to be jealous and he knew it. But the image of another Alpha touching Gao Tu, of Gao Tu wanting an Alpha who wasn’t him… It made him want to break something - preferably that Alpha’s jaw.

Ice flooded his veins. Had he driven him to this? All this time Shen Wenlang had thought he was losing Gao Tu to an Omega. Had he really lost him to an Alpha? The years of vitriol he’d spewed, every hateful comment about Omegas, every casual cruelty, had they pushed Gao Tu into another Alpha’s arms? There was a sick twist in his gut as nausea rose in the back of his throat.

Once again his eyes darted round the room, searching - hunting - for any sign of another Alpha. Anything to suggest this small space had become another Alpha’s territory without him noticing. But there was still nothing. No clothes appeared beside Gao Tu’s solitary suit. A quick look into the bathroom confirmed there was a single toothbrush, a single towel hanging beside the cramped shower. There was no scent of an Alpha in any corner of the room - no trace of any other scent apart from his own and the quiet, constant stream of sage.

His eyes fell on the bookshelf and Shen Wenlang stopped short. A photo frame. A photo frame not facing outward but pressed up against the small pile of books. He stalked towards it, reaching out forcefully to grab it. Was this the Alpha? Evidence tucked shamefully out of sight?

His anger died like a candle blown out, floating away like a trail of smoke. Shen Wenlang stared straight into the eyes of his high-school self. The photo from graduation. Standing side by side, Wenlang’s arm lightly pressed into Gao Tu’s shoulder, wearing his typical smirk while a smaller but no less genuine smile graced Gao Tu’s teenage face.

Shen Wenlang’s lips had parted gently, struck dumb, as his thumb caressed the frame.  He knew the image well - could probably draw it with his eyes closed - because its twin was resting in his own apartment, sat in pride of place on his desk. Every day he’d glance at it.

Gao Tu had hidden his.

Blinking, his eyes returned to the shelf and the object next to where the frame had been tucked. His eyes had been so laser-focused on the photo, Wenlang now didn’t know how he’d missed it.

That Limey soda bottle.

A decade old, the once light yellow liquid turned a deeper golden. Still there. Gao Tu had kept it - all these years he’d kept it by a photo of them. 

A photo which had been turned away.

The flicker of hope that had barely begun to spark in his chest, spluttered out.

The message was clear, wasn’t it? Whatever affection had existed between them once, Shen Wenlang had destroyed it. Gao Tu had kept the photo and the drink, perhaps out of sentimentality, but he’d turned them to the wall. Couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.

Shen Wenlang had done that. With every stupid insult and belligerent comment about Omegas, he’d made himself into someone Gao Tu couldn’t stand to see.

What he wouldn’t give to go back to that evening when he handed Gao Tu that bottle. What he’d give to have the chance to start over.

Shen Wenlang set the frame down carefully, face still pressed and hidden against the books. Just as Gao Tu had left it.

He’d clearly been a disappointment to Gao Tu - but what about this other Alpha? There was nothing there to point to another Alpha ever having crossed the threshold. Wenlang wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, because that meant Gao Tu was alone.

Completely, devastatingly alone.

The rage hit him like a physical force, hot and vicious and demanding an outlet. His nails bit into his palms. His jaw ached from clenching. That restless Alpha energy that had been simmering for hours exploded into something barely contained.

Someone had done this. Some Alpha had gotten Gao Tu pregnant - had touched him, claimed him, used him - and then left him to suffer alone. Left him to face suppressants and heat inhibitors and dangerous fevers without support. Left him unmarked, unmated, to raise a child in whatever desperate circumstances he could scrape together.

What kind of pathetic, worthless Alpha did that? What kind of monster-

Shen Wenlang wanted to break something. Wanted to hunt this Alpha down and make them pay for every moment of fear Gao Tu had endured. Wanted to make them suffer every ounce of pain and discomfort that Gao Tu had suffered.

Because he had suffered.

Shen Wenlang’s heart ached for the Omega. 

He slowly, quietly, trudged back to his bedside, all fight drained from him as he gazed down at Gao Tu’s unconscious face.

Gao Tu had moved while Wenlang searched the room. No longer simply lying above the blankets, his hand had moved to cradle his stomach - protective even in sleep. His brow, still furrowed against the fever that burned through him, gave him an almost determined expression that tugged at Shen Wenlang’s heart and the corner of his mouth.

Gao Tu would make an excellent father.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, certain and undeniable, Shen Wenlang clocked what else had been missing from the room as he’d searched - baby things. There was nothing. No nursery planning (not that there was much space), no baby clothes, no diapers or bottles, no cot - no preparation at all.

Either this pregnancy was very recent, or… Was Gao Tu not planning to keep it?

No. The way the Omega held himself said otherwise. So that could only mean he was planning to keep it alone.

In that moment, Shen Wenlang finally realised he’d truly lost everything.

Not only had he lost the chance to be with Gao Tu, if he’d ever really had any chance in the first place, but Shen Wenlang suddenly knew he wouldn’t get to be there at all. He wouldn’t get to see Gao Tu become a parent. Wouldn’t get to know this child currently held safe in his body. Wouldn’t get to watch Gao Tu’s face light up at his baby’s first smile.

Gao Tu didn’t want Shen Wenlang in his life. 

The Alpha didn’t know when it happened: when the Omega decided Shen Wenlang was no longer welcome in his personal life. Had he ever been? Gao Tu didn’t want to tell him the truth about his designation and he didn’t want to tell him about this child.

Because Shen Wenlang wasn’t welcome.

Not in any capacity.

“I would have settled for being a Godfather.” The words were muttered before Shen Wenlang even realised he’d spoken. Even after voicing them, the words sat heavy on his chest, suffocating him.

He would have taken anything - any scraps of presence in Gao Tu’s life. Would have pretended to just be a friend, just a supportive boss. He would have happily brought birthday presents and shown up for school plays and been content with whatever role Gao Tu allowed him.

But Gao Tu never told him. And why would he? Shen Wenlang made it clear what he thought of Omegas and their children.

So all Shen Wenlang could do was sit - useless, furious and heartbroken - and hope that Gao Tu would let him stay by his side at least until he was well again, before he was ultimately sent away.

Allowing himself one more selfish act, he took Gao Tu’s hand that wasn’t pressed protectively against his stomach and let his other hand come to rest at the Omega’s wrist, settling back into his vigil.

Less than an hour later, Gao Tu’s pulse quickened beneath Shen Wenlang’s palm. The Omega’s breathing suddenly shifted from the steady rhythm of sleep into something far more distressed.

Gao Tu’s skin burned. Was there a fire? No, not fire - heat. Intense, horrible, consuming heat.

As the fever raged through him, the nightmare came in flashes, disconnected and wrong.

A hand at his nape -  pressing, demanding, dominating. Lips by his ear -

“You smell so good” and it’s him. President Shen’s hands are all over him, possessing, taking.

“Wait-“ Gao Tu’s voice is desperate, “You don’t understand. Please, I’m-“ But the words of warning, of explanation, dissolve into need, into biology overriding everything else. Shame and desire tangle so tight he can’t separate them.

His body yearns to give in but the heat is overwhelming. No suppressants. No inhibitor. He can’t anymore. He’s not allowed - he can’t remember why - but he knows he’s not allowed. But now there’s no way to hide.

They’ll find him. They’ll smell it on him. They’ll know.

—

He’s standing in an office. His office? No - Shen Wenlang’s office.

"What would you do?" Someone's asking. "Hypothetically. If you got an omega pregnant?"

Shen Wenlang doesn't even hesitate: “I’d tell them to get rid of it, of course."

The words slam into Gao Tu's chest. He looks down. His stomach is swollen, visible, undeniable. Everyone can see. Everyone knows.

President Shen stands inches from his face, his expression full of disgust.

—

He’s in a clinic. No, a hospital. Harsh fluorescent lights blind him and he feels the cold seep into him from the metal slab beneath him. The smell of antiseptic burns his nose.

Someone in a white coat turns to him, he thinks he recognises Hua Yong’s eyes above the mask.

“It’s a simple procedure. We’ll get rid of this little mistake for you”

“Don’t-“ He tries to sit up but he can’t move. His arms won’t work. His legs are lead. “Please- Please, don’t take my baby-“

“It’s better this way.” He knows that voice. That rich, soothing voice now filled with fake kindness. He looks up and Shen Wenlang is standing over him, holding his wrists down as the doctor approaches with a scalpel.

Gao Tu opens his mouth to scream but no sound comes out.

Consciousness slammed into him and Gao Tu couldn’t breathe.

Throat closed, lungs screaming - his body had jolted awake but his mind was still trapped in that white room, still feeling hands holding him down-

The baby. The thought cut through everything else, sharp and desperate.

His hands moved before his brain caught up, clutching at his smooth, uncut stomach. Still there. Please still be there. But he couldn’t tell if the slight swell he felt was real or imagination. He couldn’t feel anything past the terror still thrumming through his veins.

“Gao Tu-“

That voice. An Alpha’s voice. His voice.

Gao Tu’s eyes snapped open and saw Shen Wenlang leaning over him, face inches away, a hand reaching to cup his cheek, eyes wide with concern.

The same face from the nightmare. The same hands that had-

“…get rid of it, of course”

Terror seized in Gao Tu’s lungs.

No. No, no, no-

Gao Tu tried to scramble back but his weak, fevered body wouldn’t cooperate. His hands pressed harder against his stomach, protective and desperate, as his back hit the headboard with nowhere left to go.

Trapped. He was trapped and Shen Wenlang was right there, his Alpha scent everywhere, wrapping around him, making him dizzy. His Omega instincts screamed at him to appease, submit, do anything to make the Alpha calm - anything to keep the baby safe.

“I’m sorry.” The apology ripped from somewhere deep in Gao Tu’s chest. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His eyes were already blurring with tears. Shen Wenlang’s expression shuttered - Concern? Anger? Gao Tu couldn’t read it through his panic, couldn’t process anything except that the Alpha was here and he knew. He knew everything. “Please, this wasn’t—I didn’t mean—I didn’t want to—Please, I’m sorry—You weren’t supposed to—Please. Don’t—“

Nothing was coherent, not even in his own mind. The words bubbled from Gao Tu’s mouth like blood as he searched for anything that might make the Alpha show him mercy.

“Gao Tu”. Shen Wenlang’s voice was firmer now, trying to get his attention. Gao Tu knew he should obey, be quiet, be good, listen. But he couldn’t stop. He had to convince the Alpha: everything depended on it. His child’s life depended on it.

“Please, President Shen - Alpha - please. Please don’t make me.” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please let me keep it. We won’t bother you. Please, I’ll resign. I’ll leave - right now. We’ll disappear - move to another city! I’ll—I’ll change my name. You’ll never see us again! Please-” Gao Tu had begun to hiccup through his sobs, barely able to choke out the words. ‘I’ll pay you back. We won’t be a burden, you don’t have to-“

“Gao Tu!”

“Please!” His wail pierced the room. Something snapped. Frantic, Gao Tu released one hand from where he’d been clawing at his stomach, reached out towards the Alpha, blinded by tears and panic, grasping for his hand. When he found it, he brought it to his face and bowed as low as he could, pressing his damp forehead to Shen Wenlang’s knuckles. Then the Omega bared his throat completely in submission and moved the Alpha’s hand to press into his gland, harshly pushing down and willing the bigger man to understand. Gao Tu knew the significance, knew the implications of the act but he was willing to offer anything. He’d give anything to keep his child.

He was running out of time.

“Please, Alpha, I’m begging you. Please don’t make me get rid of my baby. I’ll tell everyone it’s someone else’s, I promise! You won’t have to claim it! I know you don’t want it - don’t want us,’ he choked on the word. ‘I know it was an accident, but please. God, please let me keep our baby.”

He could barely make the words out between his sobs. Gao Tu was gasping but no air would enter his lungs. His vision was tunnelling, whiting out at the edges as tears poured down his face. His hands, one curled protectively against his stomach, the other desperately pushing Shen Wenlang’s hand hard against his throat, were the only things keeping him grounded as the room spun. His heart hammered so hard it hurt.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

"Please let me keep our baby.”

Our.

The word hit Shen Wenlang like a physical blow. For a moment everything stopped - his thoughts, his breathing, even his heart seemed to refuse to beat. Everything whited out.

He thought he’d been stunned before - suddenly facing Gao Tu’s complete and unexpected breakdown, trying to make sense of his babbled apologies. He’d frozen, his entire body going numb, when the Omega had dragged his hand up to his throat, exposing his scent gland and pushed Wenlang to claim him. Did Gao Tu even know what he’d just done? What he’d offered?

Shen Wenlang’s dreams had just come true in the most horrifically twisted way possible. He felt sick. This wasn’t the beautiful scene he’d fantasised about. His fantasies had Gao Tu gazing up at him lovingly, their scents dancing around them in tandem as Gao Tu smirked, offering his bared throat. Asking to be claimed, to be mated.

“Mate me, Shen Wenlang. Give me everything. It’s always been you. I love you…”

Instead the acrid scent of distressed Omega, Gao Tu’s bitter sage, burned his nose as he watched Gao Tu lie there shaking violently, uncontrollable sobs wracking his frame, begging whimpers escaping his lips in sudden starts.

Surely it was impossible to feel any worse than this.

He was wrong.

Our baby.

A thousand emotions crashed into Shen Wenlang at once, threatening to drag him under. The shock and hurt of Gao Tu’s frenzied offer gave way to a momentary but overwhelming relief, a pure flash of joy at the thought of Gao Tu carrying their child - at the realisation there was no other Alpha. It had been him, only him. But it slipped out of his grasp like sand as the onslaught of panic, grief and self hatred descended, crushing him. His hands shook so badly he could barely keep a hold on Gao Tu’s fragile body as horror clawing at his throat and flooded his veins.

Our baby. Our. That meant-

But Shen Wenlang couldn't finish the thought because Gao Tu was still spiralling, still hyperventilating, chest heaving with panicked breaths that weren't getting enough oxygen. His face was pale, lips tinged slightly blue.

The sight punched Wenlang out of his own panic just enough to force him back into the present.

Gao Tu was going to pass out.

Shen Wenlang blinked back the tears that had begun to form in his eyes, biting back the howl that had been building in his chest and let his Alpha instincts override everything else. The realisation could wait. The implications could wait. Right now, Gao Tu couldn't breathe.

"Gao Tu." His voice cracked. Shen Wenlang swallowed and tried to force his vocal cords to obey him. Achingly slowly, he shifted further up the bed, trying desperately not to startle the broken man. “Gao Tu, breathe. Please breathe.”

Gao Tu finally looked up, instinctively releasing Shen Wenlang’s hand, letting his own flop back heavily onto the blanket. His eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide with panic. He seemed to look straight through Wenlang, his mind somewhere dark and dangerous. Still, he begged through gasping breaths.

”Please—don't take—can't lose—"

"I'm not taking anything." Deliberately, but slowly, Shen Wenlang lowered his hand from the man’s neck, holding his hands up in clear surrender, hoping the distance could provide comfort and not just fuel the feeling of crushing abandonment that clearly enveloped Gao Tu. "I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?"

“I—I don’t—I can’t”

“Hey, listen to me. Listen.’ A burst of dominating pheromones seeped between them. Guilt stuck like tar to Shen Wenlang’s ribs at Gao Tu’s terrified sob in response, but it was the only way the Alpha could think to get the Omega to calm. Already Gao Tu’s instincts helped him obey, his eyes becoming clearer as his begging slowly petered off.

“I need you to breathe. In-“ Shen Wenlang demonstrated, slow and exaggerated. “-and out. With me.”

Gao Tu’s mouth opened but he could only take in a shaky, shallow breath. Shen Wenlang patted his hand on his own chest “See, follow me.” Gao Tu’s hand twitched. Wenlang smiled encouragingly even as his eyes burned with tears he tried to force back. He tapped his chest again. “That’s it, Come on”. Gao Tu’s hand rose hesitantly and the Alpha closed the final gap, pressing the Omega’s hand against his chest as he continued to mirror the deep breaths. Grounding himself in Gao Tu’s touch. “Good. That’s it. Breathe in.” He waited for Gao Tu to try again. It was still shaky and broken, but stronger than before. “That’s right, sweetheart. Now out. Slowly. Doing so good, sweet thing.”

Somewhere in his head Shen Wenlang registered his slip back into using pet-names he had no right to use, but the ringing in his ears overwhelmed everything. He was barely holding on. His eyes were trained on the shaky rise and fall of Gao Tu’s chest -  nothing else mattered.

“Keep going. You're doing so well.” By some miracle, his voice stayed steady even as his mind continued to race. "In... and out..."

Gao Tu's breathing was starting to even out, just slightly. His lips were no longer frighteningly purple, returning to their regular hue. His eyes finally came into focus on Wenlang's face, searching intently for something. Shen Wenlang didn’t know what he was looking for so he kept his expression open and honest, praying his own distress didn’t make Gao Tu any worse. His scrambling mind finally fell on the most important concern Gao Tu had voiced: his - their - child’s safety.

“I promise you,” Shen Wenlang’s hoarse voice was barely a whisper but he meant it with every fibre of his being, “I’m not going to hurt you. Or the baby. Our-“ The word stuck in his throat. “Our baby”.

Our baby. Mine. His. Ours.

Images flashed through his head - a storage room; hands and skin and a beautiful face swimming behind the drunken haze of rut; and an overwhelming, mouthwatering scent. Sage - God, it had always been sage.

But even as it all came crashing back, Shen Wenlang squeezed the hand still pressed to his chest. He willed with every word that the Omega would believe him, trust him just this once. His heart still hammered beneath his ribs, his whole body aching with tension. He wished more than anything he could take Gao Tu’s pain into himself.

The reassuring words continued to fall from his lips as Gao Tu’s breathing slowly returned to a deep rhythm, until his eyes rolled back into sleep, and his expression finally, finally relaxed into something peaceful.

Over and over Shen Wenlang muttered the words, long after Gao Tu had fallen asleep, until they became his mantra:

“Safe. Both of you are safe. I swear it. I won’t let anything hurt either of you again. I will protect you. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang couldn’t remember the last time he’d been afraid to move.

Shortly after Gao Tu’s breathing finally deepened into sleep, Wenlang had been struck by the fear of the Omega waking again to the Alpha leaning over him and causing another panic-fuelled breakdown. Instantly he’d slipped himself down onto the floor, his side pressed into the bed frame and settled their still entwined hands on top of the blankets. He hadn’t moved an inch since then. 

Hours had passed.

Shen Wenlang had kept vigil as darkness pressed against the windows and now the very first light of dawn was beginning to wash the sky grey. He was tempted to get up to close the curtains but he didn’t want to risk waking Gao Tu with any movement. He refused to risk disturbing the fragile peace they’d found somewhere in the darkest hours of the night.

The fever had broken an hour ago. Wenlang felt it happen in the sweat-damp hand he clung to. Felt the moment Gao Tu’s skin went from burning to merely warm, the way his breathing shifted into genuine rest rather than exhausted collapse. 

Shen Wenlang’s eyes burned from exhaustion but he didn’t dare tear them from Gao Tu’s chest where he’d trained his gaze on its rhythmic rise and fall. Whimpers had escaped Gao Tu’s lips in the first few hours, each a dagger to Wenlang’s heart, but for a while now he’d been quiet, his brow finally resting un-furrowed. Every small improvement was a miracle, a blessing Shen Wenlang knew he didn’t deserve.

He should have felt relief. Should have cried from it.

Instead, sitting on that cold floor, his body cramped and aching from hours in an uncomfortable hunch, all Shen Wenlang could feel was the crushing weight of everything he’d destroyed.

His neck throbbed. His legs had gone numb before they’d begun to spasm with pins and needles every time he shifted his weight. The sharp edge of the bed frame bit into his ribs with every breath. He welcomed the pain - it was tangible, present, something he could handle. Unlike the growing horror of understanding that was slowly, inevitably, crystallising in his mind as night bled into morning.

He’d failed Gao Tu.

Utterly and completely.

He’d failed to provide, forcing him to live paycheque to paycheque as he juggled his sister’s medical costs. It didn’t matter that Gao Tu wouldn’t take handouts, he should have thought of something.

He’d failed to be a place of safety. His stupid, ignorant, thoughtless mouth had damned him a thousand times. He’d critiqued Gao Tu’s appearance and home, slandered Omegas and like a coward he’d hidden all his words of love that threatened to spill out - crushed them with outbursts of cruelty. 

He’d failed to appreciate everything Gao Tu had given him. He’d failed to see him for who he was. He’s failed to recognise Gao Tu even as he lay beneath him. He’d failed to hold onto Gao Tu when he’d had him in his grasp. He’d failed to be there for him - for them both.

He’d failed.

He’d failed.

He’d failed.

But it was worse than that. So much worse.

Because without even realising it, Shen Wenlang had used him. He’d used Gao Tu and thrown him away, abandoned him when he most needed help.

He’d left him to suffer alone with the consequences on Wenlang’s actions.

He’d left him alone.

And worst of all, Shen Wenlang couldn’t even remember that night clearly. The pain of it was nearly unbearable. 

Because despite Shen Wenlang’s best efforts, the memory remained hazy as if played behind fogged glass. The unexpected and uncontrollable rut having stolen his clarity. Everything returned in fragments. His body remembered how it had felt, every minute, exquisite physical sensation, but still the images refused to materialise. 

The scent - now that he remembered. The overwhelming sage had hit him like a freight train, overpowering everything, releasing something wild and dangerous within him. Shen Wenlang had been drawn, reeled in so expertly by that Omega’s delectable scent he’d thought it surely had to have been a trap laid for him. The perfect bait sat waiting to tempt him. 

The Omega had run, forced him to chase. His predator instinct had ignited like nothing he’d ever felt before. The thrill of adrenaline had pumped through his veins, his teeth baring into an excited snarl.

Throwing the man back on the bed, feeling how easy it was to manhandle him, to put him exactly where he wanted him had flooded Shen Wenlang with primal satisfaction. 

From there, everything had slowed as time melted and stretched like warm treacle. He remembered pinning the Omega down, releasing his dominant, claiming pheromones right into his scent gland - a temporary marking. A claim for the night. So much less than Gao Tu deserved, so much more than Shen Wenlang had a right to inflict.

The Omega had melted beneath him, going limp. Submitting. His Alpha hindbrain had purred.

Despite the loss of control, Shen Wenlang had been gentle. He caressed the Omega as he slowly removed his clothes, let soothing hands run down his back and up his arms where Wenlang interlaced their fingers. The whimpers that had escaped the man beneath him, the way he’d bared his neck so beautifully had devastated him, unmade him, made him want to worship and ravage in equal measure.

And yet even as he’d taken the Omega, their two bodies joined in pleasure and primal need, Shen Wenlang had wished it was Gao Tu with him in that supply room.

Perhaps that was why, through the haze, he'd thought he’d seen Gao Tu. Those eyes he'd memorised years ago, dark and desperate. That mouth he'd dreamed about, falling open on gasps of pleasure. The features he knew better than his own, flushed and beautiful and his beneath him. Every instinct had screamed recognition even as his rational mind dismissed it as fantasy. 

Because it couldn't be real. 

Gao Tu was a Beta, and the Omega beneath him smelled like sage and Heat and home. So obviously his rut-drunk brain was giving him what he wanted most - overlaying Gao Tu's features onto a stranger, letting him pretend for a few stolen hours that he could have this. Have him.

But it hadn’t been a fantasy.

Gao Tu was that Omega. It was Gao Tu’s body he’d claimed. Gao Tu's voice crying out his name while Shen Wenlang convinced himself it was just a fantasy made flesh by biology and desperation.

And Shen Wenlang had been too far-gone in his rut, too lost in lust to see it. He’d been handed everything he’d ever craved on a silver platter and he’d hurled it away.

Shen Wenlang had woken alone, Gao Tu having fled likely as soon as sleep released him. And why would he have stayed? To share a heat with an Omega was a whole other level of intimacy and for Shen Wenlang to have joined him, uninvited and unwelcome - it was an unthinkable violation.

Gao Tu must have been disgusted by him. Terrified. 

It was no wonder he panicked, Gao Tu must have believed Shen Wenlang capable of the worst atrocities. 

“Conquest is in every Alpha’s nature”

A common but disgusting Alpha saying. Regularly used by Alphas to excuse adultery or, even worse, taking Omegas without consent - the ridiculous claim that the virus’ nature intended for Omegas to submit to any Alpha who wanted them, for Alphas to spread their seed as far as they could.

It all made Shen Wenlang sick. He never thought he’d turn into one of those despicable monsters.

He’d truly become everything he ever hated. 

As the light grew stronger, details of the room emerged from shadow. Details he’d cataloged in his frantic search hours ago but hadn’t truly seen. Now, with nothing to do but sit and watch and think, they pressed in on him with damning clarity. 

The threadbare curtains doing little to keep out the cold. The rusted bars that covered the windows. Cracks in the walls, an old green crate serving as a bedside table, the smell of damp that hung in the air behind their pheromones. All of it. 

Gao Tu deserved so much better. He’d always deserved better. Shen Wenlang had always wanted to provide, to give him everything.

Instead, he’d taken everything. 

Even now, after the facts had swum in his mind for hours, he could hardly wrap his head around just how much suffering he’d caused Gao Tu. The single most important person in his life.

He’d left him alone.

Pregnant and alone.

Shen Wenlang’s head bowed in shame under the weight of his sins. It was impossible to fix this now.

Gao Tu had thought he’d hurt him. Had been so painfully certain Wenlang would kill their baby. Shen Wenlang’s words and actions had convinced Gao Tu that his only hope had been to run, to hide. And when that hadn’t worked, he’d thrown himself on the Alpha’s mercy, surrendered his pride and dignity to beg for his child’s life.

Including offering the one thing he had left.

The image was seared into Shen Wenlang's mind - Gao Tu's shaking hand taking his, guiding it with desperate purpose to press against his throat. Against his bonding gland. The most vulnerable place on an Omega's body, the most sacred. Baring it completely, tilting his head back in absolute submission and explicit invitation.

Claim me. I’ll be yours.

It was the ultimate offer. The most profound request an Omega could make of an Alpha - bypassing tradition and courtship to ask directly for a bond. For everything. 

Omegas weren't supposed to ask. They were supposed to wait, to be courted, to have an Alpha prove themselves worthy before even thinking about placing a permanent mark. But Gao Tu had offered it. Had bypassed every ritual and protection to place himself entirely in Shen Wenlang's hands. 

But it hadn’t been real. 

Gao Tu didn’t want him. Hadn't wanted a bond or a claim or anything Shen Wenlang could give.

He'd been buying his child's life.

Offering up his body, his future, his freedom - all of it a price he was willing to pay to appease an Alpha he thought might kill his baby. It hadn't been a genuine proposal. It had been a bargain. A trade. Take me instead, just don't hurt them.

“God, please let me keep our baby.”

And there it was. The truth beneath the offer.

Gao Tu hadn't wanted a bond. Hadn't wanted Shen Wenlang. He'd been negotiating. The sacred offer reduced to a desperate barter.

And it killed Wenlang how much he still wanted it. He despised himself for that single moment he’d considered just bending down and taking all that Gao Tu offered - for that heartbeat where he thought to just claim now deal with everything else later once their bond was secured. Once Gao Tu was his. 

Shen Wenlang leaned hard into the bed frame to feel the pain in his side sharpen into something he deserved.

Gao Tu was not and would never be his. This bastardisation of a request to be claimed didn’t change that. Shen Wenlang had made him believe it was his only option, because Wenlang’s stupid answer to a seemingly ridiculous question had shattered any chance he ever had with the Omega.

What haunted him was the carelessness of it, how insignificant he’d deemed the moment to be. He’d walked right through a minefield thinking it was empty ground. 

Gao Tu had walked into Shen Wenlang’s office like any other day, carrying his tray of tea and a report, when he’d hesitated. Shen Wenlang had shut his laptop to give Gao Tu his full attention and had been utterly bewildered by the man’s sudden hypotheticals.

Haltingly, Gao Tu had asked what Shen Wenlang would do if he found out an Omega was pregnant with his child.

“What if, I mean hypothetically… What if an Omega got pregnant with your child?”

“An Omega? Pregnant with my child?” He’d barely had to think before the answer left his lips. “Obviously, I’d tell them to get rid of it. What else?”

Shen Wenlang had long discarded the idea of children. He hadn’t even left high school before he knew with certainty that the only person he’d ever want to become a parent with was Gao Tu. As a Beta it was impossible for Gao Tu to conceive even if he did agree to be with him one day.

Shen Wenlang had accepted that. He’d mourned it, and he’d moved on.

The idea of some other nameless, faceless Omega carrying his child was inconceivable. Before that uncontrollable rut, even sleeping with any Omega - with any other person beside Gao Tu - was unthinkable.

“Disgusting”

Looking back, Shen Wenlang wanted to slap himself. Hard. Because how had he possibly been that blind? He should have been paying attention. Should have realised what Gao Tu had really been saying, what his words quietly offered. Hindsight showed him what he could have had. A moment of thought - of real examination - not the blunt face-value acceptance he always gave Gao Tu’s words, and maybe he could have fixed everything. Maybe he could have convinced Gao Tu to trust him, to let him in.

But he’d been talking theory while Gao Tu had heard a threat.

Shen Wenlang had looked Gao Tu in the eyes and threatened their child. He hadn’t meant to. God, if he’d had even the slightest inkling, he would have never-

But that was all useless now. The damage was already done.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since that conversation. 

Three weeks of Gao Tu believing that if Shen Wenlang ever found out about the pregnancy, he’d demand it be terminated. Maybe that the Alpha would even drag him to the clinic himself. 

Shen Wenlang couldn’t even imagine how scared Gao Tu must have been. Everyday he’d come to work and reported to him as normal. He’d brought him his tea and his reports and his lunch, he’d sat beside him in meetings, and during all that time he’d been contemplating how he could possibly keep his baby safe. From him.

Everything Gao Tu had done was because he’d deemed it necessary for their child’s survival. Everything he’d offered, he’d freely given because he cared about the child in his belly more than anything. More than himself.

Everything had been to protect the child. Their child.

And that, at least, was something Shen Wenlang could work with.

He couldn't make Gao Tu trust him. Couldn't undo the damage or erase the fear. Couldn't expect to be welcomed into their lives after everything he'd said and done. But he could help ensure the child was safe. 

It felt like the first solid ground Wenlang had found in hours. Because if keeping the baby safe was what mattered most, then that was something he could do. Even if Gao Tu never wanted to see him again, even if he truly meant to resign and disappear, Shen Wenlang could make sure they had what they needed.

And it would be enough. He would make it be enough. He’d soothe his longing with the knowledge he could provide. He’s never be worthy of them, but he wouldn’t be an utter failure. He could do this for his family. Even if they were never really his.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes lighted on the room, no longer weighed down by its sorry state but invigorated by the opportunity it presented. His mind whirled as he constructed lists of everything he could think of to make Gao Tu’s pregnancy easier. He mentally ran through his contacts. He’d ensure Gao Tu had access to the best medical care - only the best hospitals and doctors. He could finally get Gao Tu out of this tiny apartment and into something that he actually deserved. 

Shen Wenlang’s heart longed to take them both back to his home but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. But maybe Gao Tu would let Wenlang move him to another apartment in his building!  Somewhere with actual space - a proper kitchen, heating that always worked, a large room for their child’s nursery. A safe place, a good neighbourhood, an elevator so the Omega wouldn’t have to force himself up flights of stairs while pregnant. A place where Gao Tu wouldn’t have to hide what he was. Where maybe Shen Wenlang would be allowed to visit. Occasionally.

Pregnancy leave. Wenlang would organise everything in the morning. He’d ensure Gao Tu had all the legal protections, full pay - no questions asked. Full health insurance covered, of course.

And a trust fund! Gao Tu couldn’t refuse that, not if it was for their baby. For their education - their future. Shen Wenlang would make sure their child had everything they’d need.

And maybe one day, he could earn Gao Tu’s forgiveness. Maybe even his trust. 

Wenlang bit his lip. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could still be a father. If he proved himself. If he did everything right. Maybe in time, Gao Tu could learn to lean on him. Let Wenlang take some weight off the Omega’s back - let him shoulder some of his burdens. 

Shen Wenlang would do anything. He’d be there for everything and anything. 

If Gao Tu let him.

The exhaustion of the day and terribly long night finally caught up with him. As Shen Wenlang’s body grew heavier, his mind offered him an escape from all his doubt and deserved self-recrimination as a beautiful picture danced behind his eyes.

Wenlang wrapped his arms around his mate, who bounced their toddler on his hip. A beautiful permanent mark sat stark across Gao Tu’s neck. Their child looked up with wide eyes - Gao Tu’s eyes - and grinned a toothy smile, reaching for him without fear or hesitation. 

The Alpha ran his fingers gently through the small child’s hair before bringing their foreheads together. 

“Daddy!” 

The word hit him like sudden embrace, nearly knocking him off balance even as it flooded him with warmth. Shen Wenlang’s heart was too full, aching with impossible want. Pulling back he looked over into Gao Tu’s eyes which crinkled with fondness. Trust instead of terror.

Smiling, the Omega brought his hand up to cradle his jaw and Wenlang pressed a kiss to his palm, turning his face to nuzzle into the touch. Their melded scents wrapped around their little family of three - a delectable cocktail of iris, sage and home.  

Dropping his head softly on the mattress beside their interlaced hands, Shen Wenlang made a promise to the sleeping Omega and the child he carried.

He’d give anything, go anywhere, be anyone they needed. He would do better. He would be better. He would earn this dream, somehow. He would make it real.

His lips curled into a fragile smile as his eyes shuttered closed and the sweet domestic dream pulled him under.

Chapter Text

Gao Tu woke slowly, gently. His eyes fluttered as they adjusted to the light streaming in through the windows. Despite the fever, it had been a better night’s sleep than he could remember having in months. His body ached, but distantly, his muscles relaxed from the usual tension they held. The fever had burned itself out, leaving him hollow and exhausted but clear-headed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Clear-headed enough to remember. To understand what he’d done.

The panic from last night had settled into something quieter but no less devastating as the memories washed over him. He closed his eyes against the shame that reared its ugly head, hot and familiar.

Things had been going so well. Well, not well. Fine. Things had been fine. Gao Tu had had a system. He’d been managing. He’d gone fifteen years without discovery. Fifteen years of careful control, of suppressants and inhibitors, of lies and playing the role of a Beta so convincingly, he almost believed it himself sometimes. He’d built a life. Had a job, a home. He’d kept himself safe. 

And in one evening he’d ruined everything. 

Gao Tu’s jaw tightened as his eyes prickled with tears he refused to shed. He’d cried enough the night before. He didn’t deserve to cry about consequences he’d brought on himself.

He was weak. Just like his father said. Weak and pathetic. The words echoed in his head with the same bitter certainty they’d carried all those years ago. His father had been right. Gao Tu had thought he could be different, could be better - He’d promised his mother he would be. But the moment things got difficult, his body had betrayed him. 

He’d collapsed. Let his scent spill out for anyone to discover. Let himself become exactly what he’d spent his entire life proving he wasn’t since the age of ten - a burden, a liability, an Omega who couldn’t control himself.

And worse - so much worse - he’d told Shen Wenlang everything. Not his body betraying him, not his scent giving him away - his own words. Gao Tu had handed his most precious and dangerous secret directly into the hands of the man who could destroy it. Destroy his baby. Destroy him.

Why had he done that?

Stupid. Emotional. Pathetic Omega. 

All he’d had to do was keep his mouth shut. Revealing his true secondary gender would have been a big enough betrayal. Shen Wenlang would have realised Gao Tu had been a fake - had deceived him for over ten years, that from the very beginning he’d been lying. 

He hadn’t really meant to. He’d promised his mother he would always be a Beta, never let anyone find out his truth. For those first few years Gao Tu avoided making friends, avoided getting too close to anyone. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. It was easier to keep his secret if people didn’t know him. It let him blend into the background. But he’d never expected to meet someone like Shen Wenlang.

Shen Wenlang had been a ray of light, piercing into the shadows he’d collected around himself for protection. Burning through his carefully constructed walls without even trying. Without even touching him, the Alpha had dragged Gao Tu out of his self-imposed cage and filled his life with colour again. For the first time, Gao Tu had felt what it was to be an Omega - felt the urge to send out luring pheromones, to offer comfort and service to an Alpha, to always be by his side. He began to buy Shen Wenlang lunch. Secretly. That had felt innocent enough, and it had scratched that new and unusual primal itch for a while.

After years of suppressants and pretending, the lies blurred into normality, into his new truth. Gao Tu would almost forget this wasn’t what a Beta was. Almost forgot that he was deliberately being deceitful to Shen Wenlang - his friend, his boss, his first and only love. 

It had been years since Gao Tu had really considered how Shen Wenlang would feel if he knew the truth. He’d feared it happening constantly, but his nightmare always stopped at the horror of discovery. As if he’d crumble to dust when his secret was exposed. The idea of facing a Shen Wenlang that knew everything he’s done was paralysing.

Gao Tu didn’t know who he was when he wasn’t hiding. He’d never been able to stop. Even once his mother was gone and he’d found a small apartment outside the clutches of his father’s reach, Gao Tu didn’t know how to stop hiding. The threats of his father, the warnings from his mother, they echoed in his chest reminding him what happened to Omegas.

Omegas were used - caught, bred, discarded. That was their purpose. That was all they were good for.

He’d not spent much time around other Omegas, especially after becoming friends with Shen Wenlang and he’d made his disgust for those of that designation abundantly clear. Hua Yong was the only Omega to have been hired in the secretary circle, the only one to enter Shen Wenlang’s sphere. But Gao Tu had heard the whispers about what had been done to him when he was sent to X-hotel.

So Gao Tu knew what happened to Omegas. They were pretty to look at, made good servers and models, and they were a warm place to fuck. Gao Tu wasn’t pretty but he knew his father would find buyers interested in the latter. So he’d continued to hide.

So this single betrayal would have been enough to damn him. If he was lucky, Shen Wenlang would have fired him on the spot after finding him he sprawled on the floor - hopefully without having to take his own personal trip to X-holdings.

Gao Tu shuddered beneath the covers.

Being fired would have be fine, it wouldn’t have hurt really, he would have survived it - he was planning to resign anyway. Perhaps it would have been easier this way, if Shen Wenlang was the one to make the choice. Then Gao Tu would’t feel so guilty about resigning. A clean break. A door slammed shut on this chapter of his life before he could second-guess leaving.

If only he’d kept his mouth shut.

Shen Wenlang would never have had to know. Gao Tu could have lied, again. Could have said it was someone else’s - anyone else’s. Could have protected that last secret even while everything else fell apart. But no. A little nightmare and he’d panicked like a child. He’d been delirious and desperate, grasping onto the Alpha’s hand like a teddy bear before taking it to his neck and-

The memory made Gao Tu want to crawl out of his own skin. He'd pressed Shen Wenlang’s hand there, right against his bonding gland. Had bared his throat and asked - no, pleaded, begged - to be claimed like some Omega whore from a cautionary tale his father used to tell.

Omega bitches have no control. They’re not made for independence. They debase themselves - make themselves pathetic. They hang on their Alphas and flounder when left alone. Weak and pathetic.

He’d offered himself, been ready to give himself completely into Shen Wenlang’s hands to do with as he pleased. But why? Gao Tu wondered what his fevered brain had been thinking. Shen Wenlang hated Omegas. That was a fact. Why had he even thought asking to be claimed would have helped his cause? Surely it would only have disgusted the Alpha further. 

Had he truly been trying to save his child? Had he made a calculated and selfless sacrifice to ensure his child’s safety? Or had his mind, seeing the destruction of everything he’d ever built with nothing left to lose, simply given in and asked for the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world? 

For Shen Wenlang to claim him. To take him, hold him and keep him.

To want him back.

And did that make Gao Tu everything Shen Wenlang said Omegas were? Manipulative? Using biology to trap an Alpha? Offering bonds and bodies in exchange for security?

He didn’t think he’d meant to. In the moment, fevered and terrified, he’d acted on pure instinct. Maybe that just meant at his core, Gao Tu was everything Shen Wenlang hated. Maybe he was right to.

The tears were harder to hold back now. Gao Tu’s vision blurred as he stared up at the ceiling, jaw clenched so tight it ached.

He should get up. Should start planning. He'd told Shen Wenlang he'd resign, and he meant it. The sooner he could get out of here - out of this apartment, this city, this life he'd so carefully built and so spectacularly destroyed - the better. For everyone. 

Shen Wenlang had promised he could keep their baby - a miracle Gao Tu still couldn’t quite believe. But that didn’t mean he wanted any part in their lives. The baby deserved better than this. Better than a weak Omega who couldn't even keep himself together. Better than a father who'd proven right every terrible thing people said about their kind. 

But Gao Tu couldn't move. Couldn't make his exhausted body cooperate. And beneath the shame and self-loathing, there was something else. Something that made his chest ache in a different way. Warmth against his hand. Steady breathing that wasn't his own. A scent that wrapped around him like comfort he didn't deserve.

Slowly, Gao Tu turned his head.

Shen Wenlang was still there. Asleep on the floor beside the bed, folded uncomfortably against the frame, head resting on the mattress. His hand wrapped around Gao Tu's, fingers loose with sleep but still holding on.

He'd stayed.

The realisation stole Gao Tu's breath. Made his chest constrict with something too painful to name. The Alpha had stayed through the entire night. Had kept vigil while Gao Tu slept off the fever. Hadn't left despite everything Gao Tu had revealed, everything he'd done wrong, every pathetic moment of weakness he’d laid bare.

And that somehow made everything worse.

Because this was it. This quiet moment in the late-morning light, their scents mingling beautifully in the air as if made to be as one, Shen Wenlang’s hand warm in his own - this was all Gao Tu would ever have. Shen Wenlang was a good man. He’d stayed while he’d been unwell, guided him through his panic. But this was not something he could forgive. Gao Tu knew that once the Alpha awoke and left, he would likely never see Shen Wenlang again. 

Gao Tu took a deep inhale, careful not to jostle the sleeping man as his eyes returned to the ceiling. He filled his lungs with their combined scents, trying to sear them into his memory, into his very cells. As if breathing deeply enough could make this moment permanent. As if he could carry this with him when he left. He couldn’t imagine giving this up. One night and he’d been spoiled. Gao Tu didn’t know how to go back after this. For the past two months he’d struggled with the absence of Shen Wenlang’s soothing pheromones, but now he had it, he didn’t think his body would survive without it. Already his body felt refreshed from a single night by his side and now he was about to lose it forever.

The tears Gao Tu had been fighting finally spilled over, trailing down his cheeks onto his pillow as he tried to force his increasingly shaky breathing to even out. He took deep lungfuls of air, letting the comforting scent soothe his frayed edges, even as the tears continued to fall. 

For the first time in weeks, Gao Tu actually had an appetite. His stomach rumbled quietly - not with nausea, but actual hunger. The baby, finally content with their Alpha father nearby, was ready for sustenance. But Gao Tu didn’t dare to get up and find something to eat. Not if it risked waking the slumbering President. Gao Tu wanted that moment to last for as long as he could physically make it. His hand not held in Shen Wenlang’s grasp came to rest at his stomach, rubbing gentle circles into his skin.

It’s alright, little one. We’ll be ok. 

The words in his mind felt like a prayer. Like if he thought them enough - believed them enough - they'd become true.

Your daddy stayed with us last night. He’s here, right now. He’s here with us. Can you feel him? Do you feel safe?

His breath hitched as he locked his sobs behind his teeth.

I wish you could always have this. Wish I could give you a father who wanted us. But I'll give you everything else. Everything I have. You'll never doubt you're loved - I swear it.

The tears fell faster.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You deserve better than me. I’ll try - I promise I’ll try to be enough for you.

Because this was enough. It had to be enough.

This moment, this peace, this brief window where he could pretend they were something they'd never be - it would have to sustain him through everything that came after. But Gao Tu didn’t feel ready to say goodbye.

His breath caught as Shen Wenlang shifted slightly, a soft sound escaping his throat. The Alpha's fingers twitched in his grip.

He was waking up.

Gao Tu's heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. The moment the fragile peace shattered and reality returned. He knew he should pull his hand away, put distance between them, prepare himself. But he couldn't make himself let go. Not yet.

Just a few more seconds.

Chapter Text

Something in Shen Wenlang’s chest settled before he was even fully awake. Slowly drifting back to consciousness, wrapped in warmth and peace, the Alpha’s dream of softness, gentle touches and whispered promises clung to him like honey - sweet and reluctant to let go. He didn’t fight it.

His body felt heavy in the best way, muscles relaxed and loose instead of coiled with tension. Even the floor beneath him seemed less unforgiving than it should have been. The pain that should have radiated through him from his awkward position, inexplicably absent.

The air was perfumed with sage - pure and clean and calm, no longer fever-sharp or burnt acrid with panic. It wrapped around him like an embrace, sinking into his lungs with each breath. And beneath it, woven through so beautifully, hung his own cool notes of iris. Throughout his hours of rest, their joint pheromones appeared to have worked wonders on calming his body and mind.

Everything felt muted and soft, like the world had wrapped him in cotton wool while he slept. Shen Wenlang kept his eyes closed, savouring it. He couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped him - something between a hum and a purr as pure contentment filled every inch of his body. His grip tightened around something warm, inches from his face. He lazily pulled it towards himself and that primal sound broke from his throat for a second time as the delicious scent only grew stronger. He leaned in towards it.

His nose brushed soft skin. A sleepy smile broke across his lips as he nuzzled against the back of the warm hand. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to it. Once. Twice. Then he heard it. A shaky inhale. Not his own. Someone else’s - Gao Tu’s.

Reality crashed into his sleep-addled mind like cold water. Shen Wenlang’s eyes flew open, and his heart seized at the sight of Gao Tu’s wide eyes staring straight at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face.

“Gao Tu-“  Shen Wenlang dropped Gao Tu’s hand as if burned. He scrambled backwards off the floor, urgently trying to create some distance. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He cursed himself, even as Gao Tu remained frozen. What a worthless Alpha he was - couldn’t even sleep beside Gao Tu without finding some way to take advantage. He tried to recall his plans from the night before but it all seemed to jumble into nonsense. He grabbed a single thread - Safety. Gao Tu needed to feel safe, needed space, needed-

“You don’t need to be scared.” The words came out rushed, his hands outstretched towards the Omega even as the backs of his legs hit the table. “I’m not—I won’t hurt you. You or the baby. I promised. I meant it. You’re ok.”

Gao Tu still didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. Just closed his eyes as more tears tracked down his cheeks. Shen Wenlang’s mind raced. What did Gao Tu need? How could he show that he wasn’t a threat? What could he do, what could he offer, that wouldn’t make this worse?

“Are you—Do you need something?” He’d been crying. “A drink? Can I get you a drink?” Wenlang glanced around. At first his eyes landed on the tea caddy. No. Not tea. He was trying to show he could help, not remind Gao Tu of all his hurtful, arrogant Alpha behaviour. “Water. I’ll get you some water.”

Shen Wenlang backed up towards the kettle, refusing to turn his back until the last second, desperate to keep his eyes glued to the younger man, as if he would melt into the mattress the second he looked away.

As he heard the Alpha move away, Gao Tu forced his eyes open. He had held onto this moment for as long as he could, but now it was over. They were both awake and he had to face the consequences of the night before.

Gao Tu turned his tear-stained face towards where the Alpha was pouring him a glass and took a deep, steadying breath. And nearly whimpered. The scent of the room was still too much. Too perfect. It made him want to bear his neck again and beg for more. But he’d embarrassed himself enough. Demanded enough.

He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand that still tingled with the warmth of Shen Wenlang’s kiss. Stupid Omega, getting all emotional over a half-conscious kiss. The Alpha was compatible with his scent. He knew that. Instinct didn’t mean anything. Just because Shen Wenlang was drawn to his pheromones didn’t mean he wanted the man they came from.

Gao Tu pushed himself up, every muscle protesting, and drew back the blankets that had been so carefully tucked around him. Had Shen Wenlang done that? Why? His head swam with the sudden movement but he forced himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed, to plant his feet firmly on the floor.

Time to get this over with.

Shen Wenlang turned back, observing Gao Tu’s shift as he hesitantly walked back over with the water glass. His step was tentative and slow, as if approaching a wild animal. Gao Tu wasn’t surprised. He’d acted wild and unpredictably last night, frenzied and panicked. His boss probably worried he’d break into hysterics again at the drop of a pin. He bowed his head as his face flushed with shame.

The Alpha was terrified to intrude into Gao Tu’s personal space. He’d barely been awake three minutes and he’d already made the Omega cry. Not daring to hand the glass directly to Gao Tu in case their fingers brushed each other, he placed the cup on the bedside table before stepping back again.

Shen Wenlang’s eyes traced Gao Tu’s despondent figure, how his whole body seemed to be trying to fold in on itself, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He was evidently still afraid and the Alpha had no idea what to do.

“Gao Tu? Is there anything I can do?” Gao Tu didn’t seem to hear him, lost in thought. “Can I get you some food? You should eat something.” Silence. “Gao Tu, please. Tell me what you need.”

For you to want us. The thought came unbidden, sharp and painful. But that wasn’t something Shen Wenlang could give. Wasn’t something Gao Tu had any right to ask for. He needed to end this. Needed the Alpha out of his home. Needed to make it easier for both of them.

“I’m sorry.” The first words out of his mouth felt pathetic. Woefully insufficient. How could two syllables possible encapsulate everything - all his guilt and grief and gratitude - how could he express it all without reducing himself back to tears. He had to try. “I lied to you.” Gao Tu’s voice cracked. “Every day. For ten years. I didn’t mean to, I-“ Enough excuses. “I lied about what I was, I hid everything from you, and I’m so-“ His breath hitched. “I’m so sorry”.

“Gao Tu-” Shen Wenlang took a step forward but faltered when the Omega only curled closer into himself.

“That night in the supply room-“ Gao Tu couldn’t make himself look up. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on his knees. "I didn't know how to tell you. About me being-“ The word stuck in his throat. Even now, he couldn't say it. "It was an accident. I swear it was an accident. I wasn't trying to trick you or trap you or-“ His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I promise I didn't mean to manipulate you — force you — into being with me."

“You didn’t.” The words came out more forceful than Shen Wenlang intended. He softened his tone immediately. “Gao Tu, you didn’t force me. You were in heat-“ The flush that crept up Gao Tu's neck made Wenlang's chest ache. Shame. Gao Tu was ashamed of his own body. “-and my rut was triggered. That’s just - it’s biology. It wasn’t your fault. It was just-” The word came out before he could stop it. “-unlucky.”

No.

The moment it left his lips, Shen Wenlang knew he’d said the wrong thing.

Idiot. Stupid, thoughtless idiot.

He'd meant it wasn't Gao Tu's fault - that it was just bad timing, bad circumstances, that Gao Tu shouldn't blame himself for his biology responding the way it was designed to. But the word-

Gao Tu flinched - tiny, almost imperceptible, but Shen Wenlang saw it, and it felt like a knife between his ribs.

"I didn’t-“ He stumbled over the words, trying to backtrack. "That's not what I meant. I just-“

But the damage was done. He could see it in the way Gao Tu had gone even more still, even more closed off. As if that single word had confirmed every terrible thing he believed about himself.

Unlucky. As if being with Gao Tu was unlucky. As if that night - the best and worst thing that had ever happened to Shen Wenlang - was something he could ever regret.

He was such a fool. A stupid, useless Alpha.

Because when he'd finally realised - when the memories had finally crystallised and he'd understood that the Omega in that supply room had been Gao Tu - Shen Wenlang had felt like the luckiest man alive. Because even if only for that one night, he'd gotten what he'd dreamed about for years.

It was all wrong. Nothing like what he'd fantasised about. There should have been consent and conversation and choice. Should have been nests and adoration and everything Gao Tu deserved. Not rut and heat and biology overriding everything else. But still, for those hours Gao Tu had been his. Had been in his arms, had responded to his touch, had called out his name.

And now Gao Tu thought he considered that unlucky.

"I should have recognised you," Shen Wenlang said quickly, desperately trying to fix what he'd broken. "That's what I meant. I should have known it was you. Should have-“

"You didn't know because I didn't want you to know." Gao Tu's hands tightened around himself. "That's my fault. All of this is my fault. But please-“ His voice broke. "Please, Mr Shen, I swear I didn't mean to get pregnant. I didn’t have any plan. I promise-“

With his eyes fixed on his lap, Gao Tu didn’t notice Shen Wenlang’s expression crumple.

The Alpha’s hand found the edge of the table behind him, gripping it hard enough that his knuckles went white. God, he wanted to fix this. Wanted to say the right thing, do the right thing, make Gao Tu understand that none of this was his fault. But every word felt like a potential landmine, every movement a risk of making everything worse.

Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself into the chair beside the table. A safe distance. The same level. Equal ground.

“Gao Tu-“ he tried again, gentle. “Please look at-“

“I don’t expect anything from you.” The words tumbled out in a rush, pleading and rehearsed, like Gao Tu had been practicing them over and over in his head.  "I know you must be disgusted with me. I know I'm just—just one of those disgusting, manipulative Omegas you always-"

"No." The word came out sharp. Too sharp. Shen Wenlang forced himself to take a breath. "That's not—Gao Tu, I don't think-“

But Gao Tu wasn't listening. Couldn't seem to stop now that he'd started.

"I was going to resign tomorrow. I already filled out the form - it's in my desk. But if you want me gone now, I can leave right now. You don't have to be burdened with us anymore. I know you don't want-“ His voice cracked again. "I know you don't want this. Don't want us. And I understand completely. I'm just—I'm so grateful you're letting me keep the baby. I know I don't deserve this from you, but you don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll pay you back immediately and-“

"Stop."

The command in Shen Wenlang's voice cut through Gao Tu's spiral. Not loud, but firm enough that Gao Tu's words died in his throat, his eyes finally snapping up to meet Wenlang’s.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Shen Wenlang looked into those wide, glistening eyes and forced himself to keep breathing. Because even like this - vulnerable and trembling and so terribly, heartbreakingly sad - Gao Tu was beautiful. And the knowledge that he might lose him, that Gao Tu might slip through his fingers in the next few minutes if Shen Wenlang said even one more wrong thing, sent ice flooding through his veins.

He bit the inside of his cheek, leaning his forearms onto his thighs as his thoughts ricocheted around his skull. Where did he even start? How could he possibly begin to untangle all the terrible things that Gao Tu believed about himself - beliefs that he himself had ignorantly planted there, word by careless word, year after year?

“You’re not disgusting.” His voice came out rough, barely controlled. “You’re not manipulative. You didn’t trick me.” Shen Wenlang bent his head lower, trying to catch Gao Tu’s eyes as they started to drift away. “And I don’t want you to resign.”

Gao Tu’s shoulders trembled.

Shen Wenlang hesitated before slowly pushing himself to his feet, hands hanging non-threateningly by his side. Cautiously he took one step closer, then another, watching Gao Tu’s hunched figure for any sign he should stop. When he was close enough that he could reach out and touch if he dared, the Alpha sunk down to his knees.

Supplicant. Vulnerable. A position an Alpha would rarely take willingly, but Shen Wenlang would grovel on the floor for the rest of his life if it meant Gao Tu would stay.

“I understand if you want to leave,” he said quietly. “I completely understand if you want to run as far away from me as possible. After everything I've said, everything I've done-“ His throat tightened. "You'd be more than justified. But I would never, never send you away. I promise."

Carefully, slowly, he reached out. Gave Gao Tu every opportunity to pull back, to refuse. His hand hovered over Gao Tu’s, still wrapped protectively around his stomach, and waited. Gao Tu didn't move.

Shen Wenlang gently, reverently, touched his fingers to Gao Tu's hand. When the Omega didn't flinch, he carefully took that hand in his, unwinding it from its protective position. He brought their joined hands to rest on Gao Tu's lap, his thumb stroking gentle circles over those elegant knuckles.

"I'm sorry." The words felt hopelessly inadequate, but they were all he had. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I have no excuse, except that I am an idiot.” His thumb continued its soothing motion, though he didn't know if he was comforting Gao Tu or himself.  “I’ve been a fool and I’ve been cruel. And you deserve so much better.”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes began to blur. “But I’m asking you—I’m begging you—please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

He couldn't look at Gao Tu's face anymore. Couldn't force himself to watch the inevitable rejection forming there - deserved, so completely deserved - but still more than he could bear.

"I know you didn't start hiding because of me. I know you had reasons - reasons that go back further than I can imagine. And I don’t deserve to ask you to explain them.”

Shen Wenlang's jaw tightened. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine. Every bit of it - the fear you’ve been living with for so long, how you felt you couldn’t tell me about that night. The fact you thought I’d-“ His voice cracked. “That you thought I’d make you get rid of our baby. That's on me. My words. My cruelty. Mine."

Shen Wenlang drew in a shaky breath.

“Gao Tu, please let me try to make this right. I know I don’t deserve another chance-“ His hand tightened slightly, carefully, around the Omega’s. “But please. Please let me prove I can be better. That I can help you. Both of you.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm not even asking you to trust me with-“ He swallowed hard. "With our baby. I know I haven't earned that."

His eyes stayed glued on their combined hands, grateful for every second Gao Tu hadn’t thrown him off. ”But please don't disappear. If you want to leave, if you can't stand to be near me, I'll accept that. I will. Just—please let me help you first. Let me get you somewhere safe. Somewhere better than this."

His voice cracked.

"Let me make sure you have what you need - proper medical care, money so you never have to worry, a place where you can actually raise our child without-“

Without struggling. Without suffering. Without being alone.

"Even if I'm not part of it. Even if you never let me near either of you again. I just need to know you're okay. That you're both okay. Please."

Chapter Text

Gao Tu’s mind had gone blank.

Faced with too much information, too many impossible things, his brain had simply stopped trying to make sense of it all.  Completely stalled into a forced shutdown. Shen Wenlang’s words bounced around his skull without sticking, without meaning. Unable to compute.

Please don’t go. 

Please don’t leave me. 

Please let me help you.

The sentences seemed impossible. They simply refused to reconcile with the Shen Wenlang that Gao Tu knew - the one he’d walked beside for over a decade, the one he felt he understood better than his own broken self. The contradiction was too big. His mind simply rejected it.

Shen Wenlang was an S-class Alpha. Shen Wenlang did not plead. Shen Wenlang did not beg. He didn’t ask for anything - he commanded and was obeyed. He walked straight-backed and took control of every room he entered. His presence alone was enough to make most Alpha’s hesitate. But Gao Tu had watched him approach. Had sat frozen and terrified as that proud, powerful Alpha closed the distance - only for him to sink to his knees. Before him. 

Everything in Gao Tu screamed that this was wrong. His instincts recoiled from the wrongness of it. Shen Wenlang didn't bow - not to board members, not to rival Alphas, not to anyone. His pride was legendary. Immovable. He faced every challenge, every threat head-on - with words, with pheromones, with fists when necessary.

Gao Tu had stepped into the crossfire of Shen Wenlang’s clashes with President Sheng often enough to have the impact seared into his bones, leaving him aching and exhausted for days after. He knew the full extent of the man’s dominance, now knew first-hand in the most excruciatingly intimate way how his voice and touch and scent could destroy any and all resistance.

That man didn’t kneel.

But here he was. Willingly placing himself below Gao Tu, looking up at him with an expression so raw, so devastatingly sincere, that Gao Tu was afraid to meet his eyes for more than a second at a time.

It didn't make sense.

None of it made any sense.

Gao Tu shook his head slowly, the movement unconscious. No, this wasn't real. Couldn't be real. This was guilt talking, or obligation, or - or something even worse. Pity. His stomach rolled with nausea. That was the only explanation that made sense.

"Mr Shen. You're just-“ Gao Tu's voice cracked. "You don’t mean that. You can’t. If this is because you feel responsible, because of the baby - You don’t have to-“

“Gao Tu-”

“You don’t have to worry. Really.” His hand tightened protectively around his stomach, and despite everything, a tiny smile flickered across his face as his eyes fell to where his baby was tucked safe inside him. “Keeping our baby is my choice. I don’t expect you to feel required to be involved. This was something I wanted, not you.”

“I want to be there too.” Shen Wenlang voice was firm, insistent.

Gao Tu’s gaze blinked away from his belly. His expression hardened, frustration bleeding through the cracks in his composure. “Shen Wenlang, I know you don’t like children.” Wenlang’s brief happiness at hearing the Omega use his name without the typical honorific he insisted on was immediately crushed by what followed. “You’ve never liked them. For years I’ve listened to you tell me how annoying they are, how messy, how loud - how damned inconvenient.” The words tumbled out faster now, tinged with something bitter. “You don’t have to pretend. You really don’t. You don’t need to be weighed down by-”

“It wouldn’t be a burden.”  Shen Wenlang shifted on his knees, desperately trying to recapture Gao Tu’s eyes. His fingers gently squeezed the Omega’s hand. “Gao Tu, you know money is no issue for me. I have more than I know what to do with. Let me help you. I want to-”

Gao Tu bristled. 

Shen Wenlang watched the Omega’s entire frame go rigid, felt the delicate hand in his grasp turn to stone. In an instant his eyes were darting over Gao Tu’s face, desperately trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong this time. Sudden anger had sparked through Gao Tu’s whole body like electricity, lighting him up with wounded indignity. Who did Shen Wenlang think he was? Was he seriously holding his financial situation over his head just to get his way? 

Gao Tu still couldn’t figure out what the Alpha wanted. He’d been sure Shen Wenlang would be furious with him for the lies, but he said he understood. He’d thought he’d fire him, but he’d begged him to stay. He thought he’d demand immediate repayment of the money spent on Gao Qing’s surgery and now he was trying to hand him more money. He couldn’t understand it. What game was Shen Wenlang playing?

Looking back, Gao Tu wondered if Shen Wenlang had always controlled him his way. Did he just enjoy the feeling of having Gao Tu in his debt? As his boss, he controlled his salary and livelihood, his ability to provide for his sister and himself. And if that hadn’t already been enough leverage, he’d paid for her surgery - only making the debt all the more personal, all the more binding. 

Now he wanted to what? Set him up like some Kept Omega? 

Was this his punishment? This humiliation? He’d trapped Shen Wenlang in a rut and now with a pregnancy. Was it just his turn to be cornered? To be kept humble, needy, dependant - always reminded of his place?

To be controlled and kept, but never claimed. Never truly wanted. More a possession or a plaything - never a mate. 

Gao Tu was willing to sacrifice many things, willing to endure many struggles - but he didn’t think he’d survive that. 

Gao Tu straightened, trying to force his body into something with pride, something with dignity. When he spoke again, his voice was cold, harder than Wenlang had ever heard it.

“I can provide for us just fine.” Each word was clipped, precise. “I don’t want your money.”

“That’s not what I-“

“You paid for my sister’s medical expenses, and I can never thank you enough, Mr Shen.” Gao Tu sharply pulled his hand back from where it had been resting, gently encased by the Alpha’s touch, wrapping it back around himself tightly. Protective. Defensive. “But I don’t need your handouts.”

“Gao Tu, please. I’m not trying to-“ 

 “I might not be able to give our baby everything-“ His voice wavered for just a moment before steadying with fierce determination. “But I will not raise my child with debt hanging over them.” 

Like I was. 

The unspoken words hung in the air between them, heavy with old pain. 

Gao Tu could feel his body vibrating with suppressed emotion. He’d not felt anything like this since the last time he’d faced his father - that final confrontation before he’d found the strength to cut all ties.

He could still remember the debt collectors pounding at their door. How he’d clutched his inhaler of suppressants tightly to his chest, praying the truth wasn’t discovered. Praying that he wouldn’t be handed over to those Alphas with their grabbing hands and putrid scents, as his mother had been so many times before she passed. Gao Qing’s hand had been clammy in his own as they ducked down, holding their breath. The shame of neighbours whispering. The terror of strange men shouting, threats he recognised all too well. His father's slurred excuses, reeking of alcohol and the gambling dens he couldn't stay away from.

Staring into his sister’s red eyes, the sound of china breaking resonating in his ears, he'd sworn then that no child of his would ever know that fear. 

Debt was a thing to be feared. Charity was a humiliation to be avoided at all costs.

Gao Tu’s breath was coming too fast now, shallow and uneven. He had to calm down. He was still too emotionally frayed from the fever, too wrung out to hold onto his usually perfect, carefully-curated control. He couldn't explode like this. Not while Shen Wenlang was so close.

He knew what angry Alphas could do.

Despite his outburst, Shen Wenlang’s scent still hadn’t soured with anger or disgust - but Gao Tu knew how fast that could change. How quickly calm could snap into violence. He shouldn’t be antagonising him. 

The whole picture was just so wrong. Gao Tu knew he was meant to be the one on his knees. He tried to soften his tone - not quite into an Omega lilt, but something far less challenging. 

“Mr Shen, you don’t need to pay me to keep quiet.” The words came out quieter now, almost resigned. “I really didn’t do this for money or—or anything like that. I know you have no reason to believe me, but-“

“I do believe you, Gao Tu.” Shen Wenlang’s voice was urgent, almost desperate. “I promise I do. I’m not trying to buy you or insult you. I’m sorry.” He was so sorry. "I just—I just want to help. I-“ Love you. The words caught in his throat. Too much, too soon. “I care about you. So much.”

Gao Tu’s laugh was hollow, brittle. 

“Please Mr Shen. I don’t know why you’re doing this. Saying these things. Making all these—these false promises.” The last word caught in his throat, and suddenly the tears he was certain had all been used up began to spill over once again. He didn't even try to wipe them away.

“I know you don’t want me. Could never want this baby, this accident.” The confession ripped out of him, raw and bleeding. “I know I was wrong, I understand if you want to shout at me, to punish me. But I just didn’t expect you to be so cruel.”

“Cruel?” Shen Wenlang looked stricken. “No, Gao Tu, no. Please, I’m not-“

“What else would you call it?” Gao Tu's voice rose despite himself, despite every instinct screaming at him to submit, to quiet down, to not challenge his—an Alpha. "You kneel there saying things you don't mean, making offers you'll regret, pretending you could ever-“

His words came out choked, but so painfully insistent. "I don't need your pity, Mr. Shen. I don’t want it. And I won’t accept it.”

Chapter Text

Shen Wenlang bit back the animalistic whine of distress before it could fully form.

The base sound clawed against the back of his throat - primal, mournful, desperate. Every instinct begged him to keen his heartache, to crawl with his belly pressed to the ground, throat bared in submission—anything that might communicate what words kept failing to convey. He swallowed it down. Felt it lodge there like broken glass. 

Shen Wenlang forced himself into stillness. Into silence. Anything else would only make it worse. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. It seemed he was incapable of doing a single thing right, and fixing this now felt impossible. Suddenly his taller Alpha frame felt too gangly, too clumsy. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Shen Wenlang was a man of action. He compartmentalised, broke down complex problems, identified variables, calculated solutions - made decisions. He moved his company forward. At work, he was every part the S-Class CEO - confident, self-assured. But that presentation was too much now. Too brisk and indifferent. Too intimidating. He didn't want to scare Gao Tu. So he'd tried to lower himself, show his willingness to put Gao Tu above him in all ways, but it had only caused the Omega confusion and more stress. He felt stuck in a nightmare where everything twisted and warped, where he himself was now misshapen. Useless to show his sincerity.

He couldn’t use his body language, couldn’t show his affection without crossing boundaries he didn’t dare to approach. And that meant he would have to rely on his words.

He was truly screwed.

As Gao Tu’s voice had risen, acrid sage had flared within the room, burning Shen Wenlang’s nose. But now as the Omega sat on the edge of the bed - arms wrapped tightly around himself, head bowed - his scent had eased. Not into calm, but into something fragile. Wounded. Defeated.

Because of him. Because Shen Wenlang had spent ten years burying every trace of what he felt, twisting every protective impulse into a brisk order, every moment of care into cold professionalism and obligation. And now that everything hung in the balance, Gao Tu didn't have a single reason to believe him.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Suffocating. 

Shen Wenlang kept his mouth sealed shut. He didn’t trust himself in that moment not to shatter things even worse than he already had. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Gao Tu before him. The Omega’s eyes had fallen so low, they appeared closed except for his slow blinks. Gao Tu’s lower lip was trapped between his teeth, his knuckles white where he gripped himself, as if he’d shatter into a thousand pieces the moment he let go. 

Shame and guilt burned through Shen Wenlang’s veins like acid. The sight of Gao Tu like this broke his heart into icy fragments that sliced through his chest. And yet for all that, he felt a sick flood of gratitude as he took advantage of this moment of quiet. This small instance when he could stop chasing and just think. Really think.

Enough of emotion and misunderstandings. He needed the facts.

Fact: Gao Tu thought this was pity -  It wasn't.

Fact: Gao Tu thought he was playing games, holding money over his head, setting him up as some possession - He wasn't.

Fact: Gao Tu thought he didn't want him. Didn't want their baby - He did. Desperately.

And the most damning fact of all: Gao Tu had no reason—no reason—to believe him.

Each truth landed like a blow, but Shen Wenlang forced himself to face them. To really see what he'd done. What Gao Tu believed. And why he had every reason to believe it.

Promises wouldn't work - Gao Tu had said as much. He’d not proved himself believable, reliable. Gao Tu had no reason to trust Shen Wenlang's word. Not after years of showing him only callous indifference. Not after everything.

So if Shen Wenlang couldn't make promises about the future...

Perhaps he needed to turn to the past.

Shen Wenlang had wanted to avoid this. Had wanted to skip past the memories of his failures - the ones he'd spent hours last night torturing himself with. The thought of examining them alongside Gao Tu, of being forced to watch his face as they walked through every careless cruelty, every dismissive word - it made Shen Wenlang want to disappear into the floor.

He'd wanted to forget. To bury the past under promises of doing better, to blanket his failings with love and support and simply move forward - to build something new without having to acknowledge what he'd destroyed first.

But that wasn't honest.

And without honesty, how could Gao Tu believe there was anything solid to stand on? How could Shen Wenlang expect him to take a single step forward when he thought the ground would give way beneath him?

Gao Tu didn't trust him because Shen Wenlang had never given him reason to. Had spent years hiding behind harshness and distance, too afraid of rejection to risk showing what he really felt.

And this was the result: an Omega who couldn't believe that an Alpha on his knees might actually want him. Who thought every offer of help was manipulation. Who was preparing to raise their child alone because Shen Wenlang had been too much of a coward to be honest when it mattered.

But no more.

Even if Gao Tu could never feel the same - would never feel the same - he deserved to know he had someone in his corner. Someone he could lean on. Someone who would do anything for him.

Shen Wenlang drew in a breath and made himself speak.

"You're right." The words came slowly, carefully. Each one tested on his tongue before he let it free, terrified of saying something that would cause more harm. "You have no reason to trust me."

Gao Tu's breathing hitched - just once, barely audible - but Shen Wenlang heard it. Felt the weight of that inhale like a physical thing.

"I know all that pain doesn’t just go away because I’m sorry now. I know it doesn't work like that."

Gao Tu still hadn't moved. Still stared at his lap with that terrible, careful stillness. But something had shifted - the minute turn of his head, the way his next breath came shakier than the ones before. He was listening.

Shen Wenlang pressed on, each word feeling inadequate but so necessary. "I've said horrible things to you. About Omegas. About—About you.“ His fingernails dug into his palm. "I've been cruel. Arrogant. I pushed you away when I should have-“ Supported you. Trusted you. Loved you. Done something - anything else. 

"There's no excuse," Shen Wenlang said quietly. "For any of it. I was ignorant and careless and I hurt you because of my own-“ Cowardice. Fear. Stupidity. “-failings. Gao Tu, I'm so, so sorry."

His hands ached with the urge to reach out. To take Gao Tu's hand again, to offer some tangible comfort. But he didn't dare. Gao Tu had pulled away, had wrapped himself back into that protective shell, and Shen Wenlang would respect that. He had to respect it. He'd taken away too many of Gao Tu's choices already.

“My behaviour has been unforgivable." The words tasted like ash. "I don't deserve another chance. But I want to make this right - in any way you'll let me."

His voice roughened despite his efforts to keep it steady. "It was never pity, Gao Tu. I swear to you. I would give you anything. Everything I have." He swallowed hard. "I just—I need you to know how much you mean to me. How much you've always meant to me."

The words hung in the air between them. Gao Tu still hadn't looked up, but his breathing had changed - shallow and uneven, like he was trying not to cry.

It wasn’t enough.

Shen Wenlang could feel it - he’d barely scratched the surface of years of damage. Apologies weren't going to fix this. Not when he'd spent a decade hiding everything that mattered.

Maybe it was time to stop hiding.

He'd already discarded his pride. Had knelt and begged and let his voice break. Had shown Gao Tu every crack in his carefully maintained armour. What else did he have to lose?

Everything, his mind whispered. You could still lose everything.

But he'd already lost Gao Tu, hadn't he? Had lost him years ago without even noticing. His best friend, his only friend, had slipped through his fingers one cruel word at a time. 

At least this way, Gao Tu would know the truth before he left. At least Shen Wenlang could give him that. Even if it meant rejection - complete humiliation. Even if Gao Tu laughed in his face, maybe he could convince Gao Tu that his offers were genuine. That he truly cared.

Shen Wenlang swallowed and drew himself up, steadying himself for what came next.

“I’ve spent a decade wanting you, Gao Tu.” 

That finally seemed to shake something in the Omega. His eyes snapped up, and whatever Shen Wenlang saw there made his heart seize. He couldn't read it. Couldn't tell if Gao Tu was about to explode or shatter or-

It didn't matter. He was out of time. Could feel it trickling away like water, and if he didn't say everything now, he might never get the chance.

The words came faster, desperate. “All this time, you were the only one I ever wanted by my side.” His voice came out rough, stripped bare. "Only you, Gao Tu. It's always been you.

"Even in school, I knew.” Shen Wenlang’s breath shuddered. "I didn't know how to tell you, so I found every excuse to keep you near. Study sessions, asking you to keep me company, making you carry my bag-“ Shame burned through him. "Just so you'd stay beside me."

The Alpha’s jaw clenched. "I thought when you came to work for me, finally I could show you. Be someone worthy of you-“ He broke off, the hope of that time now feeling naive and foolish. “But that's when you pulled away. You walked behind me, not next to me. You wouldn’t use my name. You started requesting heat leave to be with your Omega partner. And I realised-“

The words lodged painfully in Shen Wenlang’s throat. He swallowed roughly, blinking back the burning in his eyes. “I realised you must have been tired of me. Of our friendship. That you wanted boundaries, not—not whatever pathetic attempt at closeness I was offering.” 

The Alpha rubbed his palms against his thighs, trying to offer himself enough comfort to keep going. His chest felt tight, every word dragging something vulnerable into the light. “I figured by the time you came to work for me, you were already done with our friendship. With me. I know I was never a good enough friend to you.” 

He forced himself to continue, even as self-loathing coiled in his gut. “I was commanding and blunt and made you speak for me. I was a stupid, cocky, teenage Alpha asshole and it made sense you didn’t want to be my friend anymore. It made sense you wanted to just be professional, that you put space between us.”

Shen Wenlang's voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I understood it, but - God, Gao Tu, it was so hard.”

The whine was back in his throat - trapped, scratching. His whole body screamed for Gao Tu's comfort. That gentle sage scent that would settle him, a touch that would ground him. Everything in him wanted to reach out, to beg for it. But he finally understood he'd forfeited that right years ago.

“Knowing every heat you’d disappear to be with her. That mysterious Omega partner that you were so close to.” 

The old jealousy flared even now, bitter and acidic. He'd tried to bury it, tried to tell himself he had no right to feel it. But it had eaten at him anyway. Even now, knowing she’d never existed, the pain remained. “But I think what hurt the most was that you never introduced me to her. You never even told me her name despite how many times I asked. It was like I didn’t matter enough to know that part of your life.”

His voice roughened, words coming faster as the wound reopened. “And then you’d come back to me - I mean, to work - with that sage smell still sticking to your skin. The scent I was so sure belonged to her. And I just wanted to-“

Shen Wenlang bit off the words before they could escape. How he'd wanted so desperately to cover that beautiful scent - that remnant of someone else. How he'd longed to replace it with his own iris until Gao Tu couldn't walk through the office without everyone knowing the Alpha's claim. His desperate urge to mark Gao Tu as his.

It was too possessive. Too much. This, at least, he could keep to himself. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the Alpha urges that still clawed at him even now. "I could tell you'd been with someone else. And it drove me insane."

"But you never mentioned-“ Gao Tu's voice cut through, quiet but steady. There was something in his tone that made Shen Wenlang's breath catch. Not accusatory, exactly. Just... bewildered. "In ten years, you never said anything."

The words should have stopped him. Should have made him pause, reassess, think about protecting himself. But something had broken open inside Shen Wenlang and he couldn't have stopped the words from pouring out even if he wanted to. Even if this ended in humiliation, in rejection, in Gao Tu looking at him with disgust or pity. It didn't matter anymore. He'd kept this buried for a decade and now it was clawing its way out of him.

“You were taken. I didn’t want to get in the way.” The confession tumbled out. “And even before that, at school—I just believed you didn’t like Alphas. Any Alpha.” 

His breath came faster, words tripping over themselves. “I remember you being approached once or twice by Alphas in our year and you barely gave them a second look.”

Though in all fairness, Shen Wenlang wondered if that was partly due to him glaring daggers at anyone who dared approach his friend.

“I thought—Well, if you didn’t like them, there was no way you’d like me.”

Shen Wenlang’s eyes were fixed on the floor, staring at Gao Tu’s bare feet. He wished he’d helped him put his slippers on before this all came crashing down. 

“I was a coward. I thought I was respecting you and your relationship, but really I was just being a coward.”

Saying the word still felt like a gut punch. His whole life, Shen Wenlang had tried to be strong, proud - be brave, as an Alpha should be. He’d never been brave when it came to Gao Tu. “I never said anything because I was scared. Scared you’d leave. Scared you’d hate me. I’m your boss - it’s not appropriate…”

His voice cracked, but he pushed through. Had to push through. Gao Tu had to believe him. “But Gao Tu, I swear you are the only person I’ve ever cared about.“

The dam had broken completely now. Everything he'd locked away, every desperate thought he'd forbidden himself - it all came flooding out. "You were the only one who ever stood up to me, even in your small ways. The only one who saw me as just... a person."

Shen Wenlang's throat burned, “You made me better. You challenged me. You—" his voice broke. "You made me want to be someone worthy of standing beside you. Not that I ever could.”

He was spiralling now, couldn't stop even though some distant part of him knew he should. Knew he was making a fool of himself, laying himself bare for someone who could never feel the same. “I knew you never felt the same way. I was an asshole because I knew I could never have you.”

The bitterness filled his mouth, sharp and biting. “I knew you would never want to be with me when you already had her. And she wasn’t even-” The words died in his throat. She wasn’t even real.

Shen Wenlang squeezed his eyes shut. “I just—I’m so sorry. I was jealous. I’ve been cruel and dismissive, and I was trying to hurt you the way I felt you hurt me. It’s inexcusable. I know. I’m so sorry.’

Gao Tu's mouth had fallen open.

Of all the things he'd expected Shen Wenlang to say - accusations, anger, disgust - this was so far beyond comprehension it felt like he'd slipped into a dream. Or a nightmare. He couldn't tell which.

Wanted him. Shen Wenlang wanted him.

A hysterical laugh threatened to bubble up his throat, but it came out as something closer to a choked sound. Some traitorous part of his brain whispered that maybe this was a joke. Some elaborate, cruel prank. Alphas like Shen Wenlang didn't want broken Omegas who'd lied for a decade, who'd trapped them with—

No.

Gao Tu forced himself to breathe, to look at the man still kneeling before him. Shen Wenlang's face was open, raw, vulnerable in a way Gao Tu had never seen. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. This wasn't mockery. This wasn't cruelty.

Shen Wenlang meant it.

He actually meant it.

The realisation should have filled Gao Tu with joy. Should have made his heart soar. Instead, it sank like a stone, dragging confusion and disbelief in its wake. Because even if Shen Wenlang thought he wanted Gao Tu now, in this moment of heightened emotion and compatible scents - he didn't know. Didn't understand what he was asking for.

"You could have anyone." The words came out hoarse, disbelieving. Gao Tu's hand moved unconsciously to his left sleeve, fingers curling around the fabric - pulling it down as if hiding his punctured arm would make him any less broken. 

Any Omega or Beta would beg for Shen Wenlang's attention. Many had. Gao Tu himself had turned them away at the door on Shen Wenlang’s instruction -  beautiful and whole and normal people who would have given anything for a fraction of what Shen Wenlang was offering him now. 

"Why—Why would you want me? I'm not—not normal. I'm not what an Alpha like you deserves." His voice dropped to barely a whisper, shame burning through him. "You deserve someone whole. Someone who didn't trap you, didn't lie to you, didn’t-“ The words stuck in his throat. 

Someone better. 

Someone who wasn't damaged beyond repair.