Janruaray 4, 2015 YTN News on channel 9

FLASH STORY with Kim Sung-In

Alpha Celebrity Claims Mate This Morning

Baekhyun watches his television with dismay, peering over the hem of his blanket, fingers tangled in the fibers. He's curled up on his parent's couch, alone, with the curtains drawn and lights off. He hasn't eaten. He has no appetite. The TV screen blares in front of him and showers gray and blue lights over his face - it's the nightly news special, reporting the day's most drastic affairs.

The Omega watches a phone recording of himself on the screen - on the news - as a tall, young man pushes up against him in the middle of the street. In the video his bed head is decorated by a stray down feather. The camera jostles as the crowd surges. He watches himself on the screen, dressed in his pajamas' saggy glory, as the tall young man's teeth elongate into their wolfish canines. He watches, with chagrin burning in his cheeks, as he is claimed. On screen. On the news. On a recording. In public. In the street. Baekhyun cringes - in the video, his face contorts into one of unconcealed pleasure and pain. He sees the dribbles of blood that seeped through his shirt collar and the way the Alpha in the video clenched his body.

Funny. When it had happened, Baekhyun hadn't been aware of that. That entire moment had passed like a breath to a breeze - stolen, intangible, fugitive. He wouldn't have even been sure that it happened today if the throbbing claim mark that is now seared across his neck wasn't there to prove it.

They show the video again. And again. It is played multiple times over before the screen switches to a flattering photo of Park Chanyeol. She natters off a list of statistics: highest k-pop idol follower count on four media platforms, secondmost awarded solo artist in South Korea, highest idol networth in the country. The newswoman's eyes glimmer with the first evidence of true pleasure that Baekhyun has yet seen as she gossips about the handsome Alpha; about millions of fans in an uproar. Baekhyun thinks that maybe his unknown identity is mentioned once.

Park Chanyeol: idol. Celebrity. Model. Actor. Musician. Talented, tall, good looking, popular, and up until exactly 8:47 this morning, the world's most celebrated bachelor.

The newswoman's face sours, as though she'd been slapped in the face with a fish, as she mentions Baekhyun, and a pixelated crop image of his face from someone's iPhone appears on screen. Baekhyun buries himself further in the blankets, shrinking with every passing second. This woman - and now undoubtedly millions of other fans - hate him. They hate him. They hate him.

They hate him.

None of it would have happened if he hadn't eaten that extra steak for breakfast yesterday.

Baekhyun lives by well-crafted rituals and habits that are handmade and passed down; and insignificant moments that have become daily traditions. He lives in his parents' home as per his parents' rules for an unmated Omega, though his parents have been away from the house for four months and other two more to come, travelling. Before going to lessons and work every morning he participates in the same motion of violating his sleep one minute before his alarm can wake him; two miles run on his mother's treadmill (the same two miles he's been running since he was ten); tangling himself up over the same yoga mat; exacting his tea steeping time; and eating a breakfast of cold cucumber soup, spicy seafood salad, seasoned kelp, light kimchi, rice, and stripped beef. 

Except his heat is coming up around the bend and he has been experiencing the precursory effects for days - he wakes up in the middle of a dreamless night; his two miles are deconstructed by unforgiving aches and pains; his yoga mat becomes a nap mat; and, of course, his appetite becomes insatiable. Baekhyun thinks little of it as he throws on an entire beef steak minutes before he's due out the door to get to work on time and tears through the meat with as little time in the pan as is humanly acceptible, still its juices off of his fingers on the bus, but only regrets it the next morning when he wakes, works, runs, steeps, and pokes through the refrigerator, his rations having been thwarted by hunger. The ritual has been disrupted. The

Baekhyun gawks at his refrigerator in alarm. It's radically empty, even more so than usual. The only things inside are half a bowl of cucumber soup from yesterday, a package of bacon in the back that's far past spoiled and scarily untouchable, and that empty steak wrapper. He didn't even throw it away?

He had rationed, hadn't he? Baekhyun had specifically planned to avoid the stores today: on the news there had been an announcement of some idol arriving at the airport this morning to attend an awards ceremony in the city, and his mother's approved butchery operated right next to the airport. Baekhyun knew what some fan crowds could be like and had planned, very meticulously, to avoid this one.

Baekhyun scowls as he pulls on his jacket over his threadbare sleep shirt - the one he's fished out of the trash, because his mother throws it away every time she sees it in the laundry - and laces up his winter boots. His thick black-rimmed glasses slide down his nose and he scoots them back up with a flick of his head. A down feather stray from his pillow floats down from his hair as he does so. Baekhyun whimpers as his limbs begin to buzz with that familiar, searing warmth that has been growing over the last few days. Once his heats start there is little relief - only a few minutes in the morning right after he wakes and for a few minutes under a cold shower, but not even the bitter winter cold can chill his pulsing veins. 

"It hasn't started yet," he mumbles to himself. He stands at his front door, trying to build up the courage to step outside. "Don't worry. You're just going to the grocery store. No one is going to look at you. Stop being so self-conscious." But his pep talk isn't working. "Just...Just go."

After standing at the door, self-persuading long enough for his palm to start sweating on the handle, he forces himself out of the door, winter air down his lungs and waking his still lethargic senses.

Baekhyun sets out at a brisk pace in the direction of the butchery and airport alike - he keeps to the main streets and avoids questionables whose eyes seem to linger too long. There aren't any catcalls in the morning - thank god - otherwise Baekhyun is sure he would just scurry back to the house and call Yixing to pick up some beef for him.

Wait, why hadn't he done that in the first place? 

Yixing is working, he reminds himself. Stop depending on him - he doesn't need an extra mouth to feed. Especially yours.

Baekhyun has always felt a little guilt associated with the Chinese Beta's name. Ever since they met, Yixing has been expressing his fondness for the Omega, and though Baekhyun cherishes the man as a dear and valuable friend, he has been turning away from the Beta's affections. It just doesn't feel right. Yet the Chinese sticks around and tolerates Baekhyun's quirkiness and bizarre requests like political phone calls at two in the morning asking, "Hey, Yixing? Do you believe in the necessity of a Beta Bill of Rights?" or "Hey, Yixing? Do you believe Omegas are entitled to modernizing themselves?" or "Yixing, do you have the ability to recite the Oath of Alphas?"

Baekhyun flicks his head again and his bangs slip away from his eyes, his glasses sliding back up on his nose. They're his brother's old glasses so they don't quite fit, and aren't quite the right lenses either but they work. The streets are lively this morning, and as the Omega criscosses through the pedestrian traffic, nearing the grocery store he notices the unusually large amount of young Omegas also walking in his direction. Oh god, he thinks. Let's just make this quick.

~

It is only supposed to be a normal day: arrive at the airport, shuttle to the company, order takeout and maybe wander around the city with his hat pulled low over his face -

Chanyeol thinks this is the plan as he steps out of the airport lobby and onto the platform before the street among the flurries of of hysterical screams and excited cries, blinks of flashing cameras glittering on either side of him. Chanyeol can't say that he doesn't like the attention; his inner Alpha appreciates it. Today is not the worst he's ever seen. He has seen other tabloids: Alpha celebrities pinned down by guards in an intense rage. He's teetered on the edge of losing it, but as an Alpha - naturally hypersensitive and easily agitated - it has driven him over the years to retain an enormous degree of self control.

However, nothing has slammed his Alpha instincts so hard as this. Chanyeol's stomach drops to the bottom of a searing canyon and his cheeks flush - something in his veins explodes with adrenaline. He exhales a choked pant and his eyes dilute - oh god, that smell.

Chanyeol halts in his step; his vision blurs and suddenly the shouts and calls around him are tantalizing and aggressive and where is that smell? I need it. I need that smell. My smell. No one ing touch that - 

The scent grows. A low, gutteral growl aches up behind the idol's vocal chords and the microphones that are pushed up by his face retract immediately retract, shock swelling in the air.

Chanyeol vaguely recognizes his manager's voice beside him. "Chanyeol, are you - "

The Alpha's eyes flash and he takes off away from the platform, shoulderiing past staff and bypassers and fans. People's shouts ring up around him and surround the street with thrilled cries. 

"Chanyeol - !" his manager, Junmyeon, calls, but the voices around him dim out. The scent is coming in a distant circle, around the rim of the crowd. Chanyeol's nose sifts easily through the scents of Omega girls in heat who have come here purposely - for that scent; it punches the air and takes hold of the Alpha's senses with vicious passion. Chanyeol feels his instincts - long reserves and pushed down after years of self-preservation - bubble up and discharge in his blood. The Alpha roars with a spine-rattling grate and the mass of people ripples away with a gasp. On lightning fast that haven't run in years, Chanyeol bolts past the guards; he easily slips over the hood of a car and barrells into the street. In a single split moment his eyes trace a path from the nextdoor grocery store, following the traces of that scent -

And his gaze lands on a bouncing, black head of hair. The Alpha gasps and beelines towards the opposite sidewalk. Fans screech with wonder and excitement, security shouts, his manager yowls at him - Chanyeol leaps clear over the gates holding the fans back and he is met with an overwhelming mixture of female scents and voices, hands grabbing at his coat. With a deadly howl, the boy which that scent belongs to just a few paces away in front of him, Chanyeol charges out of those gripping hands and reaches out - 

He slams into the Omega boy and the creature gasps - oh, such a sweet, tender sound that immediately has Chanyeol weak at the knees. He's out of control, he knows this, as he can't help but plow the boy up against the cement wall behind them. The Alpha's hands immediately clasp the Omega's waist in a tremendously posessive manner - waves of dominance unlike he'd ever experienced flush off of Chanyeol and he moans as the Omega submits instantly in his grasp with a tremble. The Alpha pushes his larger body against the boy's and sticks his face under the smaller's jaw, lips dragging against that perfect, present place against the Omega's throat. Want him. Want him. Need him. Need him. Need him so badly -

He pulls the creature close and opens his mouth wide, completely unaware of the roaring crowd around him. Chanyeol feels his canines elongate and scrape against his gums as they grow into bony wolf fangs. Never before has he felt so massive, so charged, so needy. The scent fills him and drugs his senses - Chanyeol can feel the absolute need to protect this prescious litte boy in his arms. He needs to love this boy. Needs to keep him safe. Needs to mark him. Needs to hold him. Needs to make him his. Needs to claim -

Chanyeol grapples the Omega's clothing and rips the boy's coat off of his one shoulder, tears away the sweater underneath, and yanks the fabric around his neck to the side. The submissive yelps and clambers onto the Alpha's body but Chanyeol pushes him back against the wall, wanting to feel closer and closer and oh god that scent!

Chanyeol's teeth break the surface of the boy's skin and the Omega doesn't cry out - he only makes a crippled, gurgled groan of immedate pain. The Alpha feels his teeth sink past the leathery tough flesh up to his gums and he bites even harder, wants to mark this boy with such ferocity and surity that all will know that this Omega is his. This Omega is only his. Chanyeol wants this. He wants this Omega. 

The body slacks in his hold, silky, ice-cold hands scrabbling at the back of the Alpha's neck. The taste of the Omega's blood floods Chanyeol's mouth and burns his tastebuds with bitter sweetness, metallic and it just tastes right...but strange. Chanyeol has never tasted blood before. 

The Omega is squirming but Chanyeol holds fast, canine teeth viciously deep and steadfast. Chanyeol can feel the connection burning between them, a strict and powerful bond slipping between Chanyeol's teeth and the boy's neck. The dominant can feel the pulsing of the boy's veins under his lips, stretched across the other's skin. The Omega's heart hammers against his own frightfully rapidly, stuttering and sprinting and sometimes stopping altogether. Chanyeol growls against the hot and suddenly sweaty throat as their mate bond seals and sends electric tingles through the Alpha's body, startling him. Waves of pleasure and all sorts of emotions wither his veins but the Alpha never falters. The fingers at the base of his skull are limp and barely holding onto him anymore.

It feels like it's been hours that Chanyeol has been standing there with his Omega, but perhaps it's just been seconds. The screams surrounding them rush back into existence and collide with the peace that his mate has just brought him. Slowly, very slowly with intricate care Chanyeol extracts his jaws from the soft skin beneath him; the Omega shudders with every milimeter his teeth scrape back against his skin. The Alpha now has the ability to sense the body in his hold: he feels his knees knocking against a pair of firm thighs, his stomach plastered against the other's heaving belly, the shivering, warm waist breathing beneath his strong hands, the honey-cinnamon-lavender-vanilla scented, silky hair brushing agaisnt his face.

Chanyeol's teeth slide out of the Omega's neck with a soft squelch as the blood starts flowing down the Omega's shoulder and disappears under his shirt. The submissive is trembling violently, but Chanyeol's eyes are still closed and his face still presses up against the column of the Omega's neck. The smaller grips at the back of his shirt and whimpers under his breath, "Alpha..."

A grin slides onto Chanyeol's face and he has a sudden urge to cry. That word. That Alpha word on this Omega's lips... Chanyeol's tongue dips past his lips to lap the claim mark clean - 

But dozens of hands have seized him from behind and the Alpha's eyes snap open. With a yell he is yanked away by many hands, the Omega slides down to the ground without his support and his Alpha dominance flares. Chanyeol howls in protest and balls his hands into fists, ready to fight, because his mate's face disappears altogether among the sea of female fans. Panic lurches into Chanyeol's throat and he gets ready rip himself away from the security hands holding him - he feels like a puppy who has just been rebirthed, ripped away from his mother before he has the chance to take her teat in his mouth and save himself from certain death. His manager's face appears, shocked, disappointed, in front of him. But before Chanyeol has the chance to do anything someone shoves him into a car with an Alpha grunt - because any sort of challenging growl would set Chanyeol off certainly and they know this - and before he can punch his hand through the glass window and jump out to reach for his brand new mate the security guards leap into the back seat with him and pin down his shoulders.

"Goddamn you ing - "

His manager slips in the driver's seat and immediately squeals the car out of the parking space, flying down the steet in a fluster under Chanyeol's strangled, horrified cries.

"What the hell are you doing my mate is back there ing turn this car around let me go you bastards what do you think you're doing my Omega is on that street oh my god turn around! Turn around my mate is -  my mate is -  oh my god I'm going to fucking rip your throat out with my teeth and make you beg for me to beat you to ing death - " His voice grows into a mangled growl of rage and frustration, the threat clear and serious and his manager's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror in a moment of worry, only to see his best idol restrained with two fists at his throat. His Alpha wrath swirls around them both and he glares back, choking on his distress and the threat of tears - for his mate, the love of his life, the gem of his existence has been abandoned, bleeding, against the wall of a bank with Chanyeol's fans - who, he knows, may ravish the Omega. He knows some of them will. He knows it.

He reimagines the Omega's soft skin and the way his belly expanded and contracted with each breath against Chanyeol's own stomach. He recalls his Omega's breathy gasp and whimper, and the tangy taste of his blood on his tongue. The Alpha groans - he can still smell his mate's otherworldly scent on his hands, wafting through the car's antiseptic layer and singing his nose with rosy sugar. The honey, the cinnamon, the lavender, and oh, the vanilla...

Junmyeon is shaking his head with a discouraged groan. ", Chanyeol," the Beta says with a huff. "You've really ed up this time."