It’s inevitable that they will meet again, given the small circles that they mix in. Jongin holds the stem of the glass loosely, swirling the wine idly as his eyes track the movements of another. Beside him, a beta—or rather, acting alpha for the leader of his pack—blabbers on about the difficulties his pack is facing and the financial trouble his group has fallen into.

Jongin flicks an irritated eye at him, nearly tempted to give into the beta’s unspoken pleas for help if not for the fact that he is more business-savvy than that.

“No,” Jongin says roughly, annoyance causing him to abandon all social niceties.

“I am sorry?” the beta pauses mid-speech, looking taken aback at the abrupt interruption.

“I understand your troubles and empathise with you,” the silk creeps back into Jongin’s voice as he recovers himself, remembering his reputation and his manners. He does not want to get inflicted with more lectures-disguised-as-tea-sessions with the elders yet again, “For the troubles you face are mirrored within my own company, my own pack. The recent Hurricane Patricia has devastated my properties, and even now my people are scrambling to recoup our losses while at the same time, providing humanitarian aid that the public demands.”

“That sounds most awful, Lord Jongin,” the other alpha knits his brows together in sympathy.

“It is, our stocks has taken a turn for the worse and the corruption lawsuit is doing little to increase investors’ confidence,” Jongin allows a sigh to fall from his lips, “If I may just speak the truth with you, this industry has been plagued with troubles in the recent decade as competition grows stiffer, information flows freer and customers become more cost-conscious. And our image as a premier service provider has been crippling us as we play a neverending expectation game with our ever-demanding customers.”

“But surely that must be the case all hotel conglomerates are facing.”

“But we feel it the most, Lord—“ Jongin’s eyes flicker down to the namecard he holds at the base of his glass, “Jonghyun. We are vulnerable to the sentiments of the customers, open to the threat of terrorists and at the mercy of governmental regulations. And the name of Kim Conglomerate often do us more harm than good now as hotels worldwide grow fearful of us, petitioning their governments together to throw red-tape after red-tape in our faces as we try to expand to other countries.”

“But I am sure your company will overcome these issues in no time, Lord Jongin,” Jonghyun assures, a glint of suspicion in his eyes, “Your company’s finances look healthy enough and I am hearing rumours of a new Kim-Conrad Joint Venture.”

“Rumours,” Jongin dismisses, “You can do better than to lend your ears to those foolish human magazines, Lord Jonghyun.”

“Within every rumour lies a kernel of truth.”

“Are you quoting a human idiom at me now, Lord Jonghyun?” Jongin’s voice was amused but his expression affronted.

“They do have a way with words,” Jonghyun’s words were placating but his eyes sharp, “And I see little reason not to quote a human idiom when it expresses my feelings concisely and elegantly.”

“The elders will be most concerned to hear you speaking in such a manner, Lord Jonghyun.”

“Their concerns are misguided,” the words fall as smoothly off Jonghyun’s lips as if they have been said every other day.

Jongin’s eyes narrows. “Lord Jonghyun,” Jongin affects offence, “Perhaps it will be best to continue our conversation in another time and place.”

The steel in Jonghyun’s eyes hardens but he inclines his head nonetheless, “Most wise, Lord Jongin.” And with that, Jonghyun sweeps his glass off the table, striding off with purposeful steps, to another group where he can more easily find a like mind. Jongin supposes he is to feel affronted, given the rank of his position and the audacity of Jonghyun to act the way he did. Jonghyun did not even offer Jongin a handshake at the end of the conversation and such blatant disrespect should have left Jongin simmering in anger.

Rather, Jongin allows the stiffness to flow out of his shoulders the moment Jonghyun leaves. He cannot bring himself to care as he has another target in mind. He allows the mask of antipathy to fall off his face even as he scours the room, searching for the man he has lost track of in the few minutes he parries with Jonghyun.

“I have never known you felt that strongly about humans,” a familiar voice startles Jongin from his search. The knot in his stomach tightens briefly at being caught unaware, but it relaxes soon enough as he puts a name to the voice. It turns out who he has been searching for has found him.

“Lord Minseok,” Jongin turns to greet, his face schooled into an expression of casual interest.

“Lord Jongin,” the other returns with the smile that Jongin remembers.

“Have you been well?”

“Well enough,” Minseok returns with a wry smile curling up his lips, “Better than you are faring, I suppose, given the terrible financial trouble the Kim Group has fallen into and the pack difficulties—oh Lord Jongin, I didn’t manage to catch wind of the details on that. Do you mind filling me in?”

Jongin groans, “How long have you have listening in?”

“Long enough,” Minseok grins, “Long enough to feel sorry for poor Lord Jonghyun who was being fed utter lies by you.”

“You should lose the ability to creep up on people unaware, Lord Minseok,” Jongin complains half-heartedly even as he pretends not to be dazzled by Minseok’s smile.

“My paws only fall softly around you, Lord Jongin.”

“A vestige of your past stalking tendencies perhaps.”

“I do not stalk,” Minseok says, playfulness dancing in his eyes, “Do not smear my name, Lord Jongin.”

“I speak only of the truth,” the teasing smile falls off Jongin’s lips as a memory surfaces, “Of the time when you stalk me. And I, you.”

The air stills and the temperature falls. The light atmosphere which surrounded the two is now swallowed by something darker, something which Jongin is all too familiar with. Jongin smirks, and something switches on in him. He advances towards Minseok, stepping forward till he can feel Minseok’s breaths on his cheeks.

This is what he has in mind when he attended this meeting; this is what Jongin hopes to happen.

“Jongin,” Minseok warns.

Jongin pays him no heed, pressing Minseok against the marbled wall, touching but not touching, his body a finger’s width away from being pressed flushed against Minseok’s.

“Jongin,” Minseok repeats, his words taking on a strained tone.

“Do you not remember? Do you not feel this, Minseok?” Jongin’s eyes grow dark with intent, heavy with promises.

Minseok breathes in sharply, steeling himself, “I do not feel anything around you, Jongin.”

“Don’t lie, Minseok,” Jongin practically growls, “You cannot lie around me.”

“I don’t,” Minseok insists, almost stubbornly, almost desperately, “I feel nothing.”

And Jongin decides that is the last straw. He steps back suddenly, whipping his hand out to clamp around Minseok’s wrist, iron-strong and unyielding.

“What are you doing?” Minseok hisses, instinctively trying to shake off Jongin’s hand. But it is pointless as Jongin expenses the equivalent of 2 years’ worth of energy to keep Minseok in his grasp.

“What’s wrong with you?” Minseok narrows his eyes, urgency rising in his voice now that he senses that Jongin is not joking around.

“We are leaving,” Jongin says without a backward glance as he begins pulling Minseok towards the exit.

“You do not get to decide for me, Jongin,” Minseok digs his feet in and allows a sudden surge of energy into his limbs. His eyes flash dark and the pair stops abruptly in their tracks.

Jongin whips around, closing the gap between them rapidly. He does not care that they are in the middle of the lounge now, does not care that they are probably attracting unwanted attention, something ugly within Jongin rears its head and Jongin uses up yet another 3 years worth of reserves to pull Minseok into his arms.

“I will bite you, and I will ravage you, and I will do all this right here, right now,” Jongin whispers into Minseok’s ears, “And then you will fight me, and I will fight you, and we will tear this room apart as we bring the session to shambles. And there goes propriety, and there goes your—our reputation. So, come with me, Kim Minseok, if you do want all this to happen.”

Minseok stiffens in his arms and Jongin can feel the frostbite on his fingers. He pushes back at Jongin and Jongin relents easily. He knows he has won this round, he knows Minseok hates causing a spectacle more than he hates Jongin. He knows all that is important with Kim Minseok.

And so, Jongin is not surprised when Minseok simmers ice-cold rage at him.

“ you, Kim Jongin.”

But Minseok ends up leaving the lounge together with Jongin.

-

The walk towards one of the Kim’s Group hotels is short and uneventful, given that the session happens to be held in a lounge right beside it, on a street that is bustling with human life. Minseok cannot do much, cannot snarl at Jongin nor can he use his supernatural strength. When roaming in the human world, one must act like one.

And so, Jongin is a little bit surprised when Minseok tries to put up a resistance again when the 2 are riding the elevator.

The banisters circumferencing the inner glass elevator is dented and twice-reinforced glass cracks. Jongin knows that Minseok could have thrown him off harder if he wants to, and so he understands that Minseok has held back. What he doesn’t understand though, is why was Minseok trying so hard to resist him.

“What the hell are you doing, Minseok?” Jongin spits out blood as he steadies himself against the steel bannisters.

“I do not want to do this, Jongin,” Minseok’s eyes are still dark with power, his posture threatening, “The last time is supposed to be The Last.”

“There’s no last time when it comes to us,” Jongin allows a wry bloody smile on his face.

“There should be, there will be,” Minseok slams a hand out to jam the lift, 2 floors away from reaching the suite, “It’s different this time round.”

“How so?” Jongin challenges, “You are still Minseok, and I am still me. Nothing will change till the day one of us is buried six feet under.”

Minseok laughs, his laughter incredulous and caustic, “Who are you lying to, Jongin? Everything has changed. From the moment when we were identified as alphas to the day when we formed our own packs, everything has changed between us, Jongin. You are blind if you do not see it.”

“I do not care for the things that separate us,” Jongin stands up and reaches a hand towards Minseok only for it to be quickly slapped away. He winces, but continues advancing determinedly, “I care only for the things that bind us together.”

Something in Minseok falters at that, and his eyes return to a lighter shade of brown. Anger creeps out from the lines of his silhouette and Jongin can see Minseok’s resolution weakening before his very eyes.

He attempts again, one hand reaching forward to cup Minseok’s face. Minseok does not lean into Jongin’s touch, but neither does he hit his hand away.

Rather, Minseok closes his eyes for a second, seeming to gather his thoughts. When he opens, his eyes are as brown as always, and the cold dark rage that surrounds him has dissipated. Jongin smiles and he leans forward, forehead touching Minseok’s, going in for a kiss. Meanwhile, his hand extends and Jongin unjams the lift, jerking the glass device back into motion.

And the kiss is fast and slow all at once, passionate and languid, happy and sad. It is a kiss that embodies what has been a better part of their relationship for many years, and Jongin finds the familiarity of their tongues enmeshing bittersweet. But the heat that Jongin feels as Minseok pushes against him, trapping him between Minseok’s lithe body and the elevator door, comforts and warms the pits of Jongin’s stomach.

It arouses him, the thought that Minseok desires him again, and Jongin finds his guards lowering, finds his pulse picking up as the robotic voice announces that they have reached the floor of the suite. Finally, they will be out of the public eye, and finally, Jongin can have the proximity he so badly craves.

And it is because Jongin was anticipating so much that he is caught completely off guard when Minseok suddenly shoves hard against his chest as the door slides open. Jongin finds himself flying across the suite, crashing into couches and lampstands, but not slowing down in his trajectory not in the least bit.

That was how hard Minseok has flung him.

Jongin finally stops when he hits against the thrice-reinforced glass walls of the suite, dazed and disorientated. He can feel the bruises blossoming on the back of his skull, on the edge of his hips, on the curve of his waist, and Jongin knows that any harder and he will be bleeding.

But still, Jongin is an alpha and his recovery abilities are nothing to be underestimated. He is back on his feet not a second later, adrenaline rushing as his body warns him of a threat. But the threat is no one other than Kim Minseok, Kim Minseok who stands in the frame of the elevator, looking small and tiny and just about as confused as Jongin feels.

Minseok’s voice is soft but Jongin’s ears are sharp and he catches what Minseok says easily enough, “I am mated.”

The apology is unspoken in his words and the elevator doors has the audacity to begin to close once Minseok said his 3 words. Jongin leaps forward even as an incredulous laughter catches in his throat, because was this what it has all been about?

Taking full advantage of the supernatural strength his body has been blessed with, Jongin reaches the elevator before it is half-closed and dents it in his haste to reach Minseok.

Minseok startles and seems to be completely unprepared for this confrontation and Jongin cannot help but to wonder if Minseok possibly thought that Jongin will let him leave just like that.

Ridiculous.

“Kim Minseok,” Jongin breathes low and warm into Minseok’s ears, “If you think that I do not keep track of your every single movement, if you think I do not know that you are mated to a beta in your pack, then you are absolutely wrong in your assumptions of me.”

Minseok looks up, expression unreadable, “Then why are you doing this?”

“Because I do not care if you belong to someone else, I do not care if you have marked another wolf,” Jongin bites at Minseok’s ears. He slows and peppers a line of kisses to Minseok’s jaws, “Because at the end of the day, when it comes to what really matters, you are still mine.”

“Jongin,” Minseok forcibly pushes him away, ignoring the heat that flushes down his body, “You do not understand. I have an obligation towards my mate now, I can no longer play around with you.”

“I have never once thought we were playing around.”

Minseok runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and even in this tense moment, Jongin devours Minseok’s smooth moves with his eyes. “That’s beside the point.”

“There’s no point, Minseok,” Jongin looks at Minseok with hooded eyes, “There’s only us.”

Minseok shakes his head and a heavy burden seems to settle around him. He sighs and looks fixedly away, “I have heard.”

“Of what?”

“Jongin, you are to be mated soon.”

“In 2 moons time,” Jongin answers like he is simply stating that water is wet.

“Mated, Jongin,” Minseok repeats, “Mated. Do you even know what that means? What that holds?”

“I do,” Jongin prowls forward slowly, “But links can be switched off and connections paused.”

“Wolves are monogamous creatures,” Minseok growls in frustration because he cannot seem to get across to Jongin, “I cannot take what is not mine.”

“But we aren’t wolves, Minseok. Can wolves turn into humans?” Jongin is standing less than a handspan away by the time Minseok realizes, “Can they caress you as I am doing now? Can they kiss you as I did? Can they —“

Minseok slams a hand out, cutting Jongin short. He says almost desperately, almost as if to convince himself rather than Jongin, “I cannot betray Luhan like this, you cannot betray your mate like this.”

“It’s not a betrayal if it’s not a one-night stand,” Jongin noses at Minseok’s neck, biting down the way he knows Minseok likes it, “And stop pretending you don’t want this, Minseok.”

Minseok inhales a sharp breath and he looks up, defenses torn asunder. Jongin has a feral smile on him, a victorious smile on him as he continues, smashing apart Minseok’s act with just a single question, “Luhan knows nothing, doesn’t he?”

And the implications are obvious. Minseok can feel his walls crumbling. For all his denials, for all his rejections, Minseok has long shut down the connection linking him to Luhan the moment he knows Jongin will be attending the event. He can claim to be surprised, he can claim to be taken against his will, but no one will believe him, and not even Minseok will believe himself. Because he is nothing but a compliant abettor in this, shutting down his connection to Luhan willingly.

Minseok neither wants to deny nor reject Jongin.

Jongin knows this too. Just like how he knows how to kiss his way down from Minseok’s jugular to his chest that has Minseok grasping at Jongin’s hair. Jongin exploits the knowledge he has on Minseok to slowly draw Minseok away from the lift into the suite. He entraps Minseok with sweet words and sweeter kisses, and Minseok finds himself falling forward, falling into Jongin once again.

“I ing hate you,” Minseok dares to say even as he pounds deep and hard into the mess that is Jongin. Jongin laughs at the irony of the situation in between his needy cries and does not deign to give a reply as he simply urges Minseok to be faster, better, to hit the sweet spot that Jongin knows Minseok has memorized.

Minseok hating Jongin is a big, fat lie if Jongin has ever heard of one.

Minseok just doesn’t know how to feel around Jongin.

Jongin isn’t too sure how to feel around Minseok either.