"I was sweating!" I roar. "There's a difference!"
"And next time?" he challenges, tilting his head. "When the fever hits and your hands aren't enough? What then?"
"I'll take suppressants," I declare, lifting my chin. "Like a civilized human being. I'll double the dose. Triple it. I don't care."
Donghwa gives me a look that is equal parts pity and annoyance. "Didn't you already try that?"
I freeze. My mouth opens, then closes. I narrow my eyes at him, suspicion creeping up my spine. "How do you know that?"
I didn't tell him. I didn't tell anyone. I popped those pills in secret, praying they would work.
Donghwa shrugs, looking bored again. He picks at a piece of lint on his black sleeve. "I could smell it on you. When I walked in."
My stomach drops.
"Suppressants have a specific scent," he explains matter-of-factly. "Chemical. Bitter. Like burning plastic. It was all over you, mixed in with the rut sweat." He looks up, meeting my eyes with devastating clarity. "You were practically radiating it. And clearly, it didn't do a damn thing to stop you from jumping me the second you opened the door."
"I'll get stronger ones," I snap, slamming my hand onto the table again. The spoon jumps. "I'll get the black market shit. The stuff they give to elephants in musth. I don't care if it puts me in a coma for a week, I amnotdoing this again."
Donghwa sighs, peeling the lid off a side dish of kimchi with maddening slowness. "You can take enough tranquilizers to kill a horse, Hyung. It won't matter." He looks up, his expression bordering on pity. "Everyone knows suppressants don't work on bonded pairs. Your biology overrides the chemistry. The only thing that settles a bonded alpha in rut is their mate. Period."
"Don't call yourself that," I hiss, the wordmatemaking my skin crawl like I’m covered in spiders. "And if biology is the problem, then I’ll fix the biology."
I glare at his crotch, then back up to his face, my eyes narrowing into slits.
"I’ll just cut it off," I say, my voice dropping to a low, deadly register. "I’ll chop your dick off. It’s the only part of you that’s actually useful to me right now anyway. I can keep it in a jar of formaldehyde and use it when necessary, and I can dump the rest of your useless, annoying body in the Han River."
Donghwa pauses with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He looks at me, unimpressed.
"There's no need to be offensive," he says calmly, popping a piece of radish into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and points his chopsticks at me. "Look. We’re already in this predicament. We might as well be realistic about dealing with it instead of plotting homicides you don't have the follow-through to commit."
"I have plenty of follow-through," I mutter, though the heat in my voice is losing steam against his wall of logic.
"We’re bonded," he states, like he’s reading the weather report. "It doesn't matter how we got here. It’s done. So here is the proposal: I spend your ruts with you. You spend my rutswith me. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. It’s a medical necessity. It doesn't need to be any deeper than that."
I gape at him. "A medical necessity? You're talking about us screwing like rabbits until we pass out!"
"Efficient screwing," he corrects. "To stabilize our pheromones."
"You are insane," I snarl, leaning back and gripping my hair. "This isn't a business transaction! This is my life! You’re skipping over the part where I went from being a Top—theonlyDominant Alpha in this department—to a bottom! A bottom bonded to the most infuriating, arrogant, pretentious freshman in the entire class!"
I gesture wildly between us. "Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation? To my psyche? I’m supposed to be the one doing the knotting, not taking it!"
Donghwa shrugs, taking another sip of his coffee. "You didn't seem to have a problem with the logistics last night."
I freeze. "Excuse me?"
He leans forward, a wicked glint entering his dark eyes. "I seem to recall you waking me up. What was it? Nine? Ten times?"
"I did not," I lie instantly, my face flaming.
"You did," he counters smoothly. "You were pawing at my lap like a starving animal. I was half-asleep, my dick was barely semi-hard, and you were climbing on top of me, trying to impale yourself on it like some kind of deranged sex demon."
I gape at him, my mouth hanging open so wide I’m probably catching flies. The air leaves my lungs in a rush, leaving me feeling hollowed out and horrifyingly exposed.
"I did not do that," I whisper. The horror in my voice is genuine, vibrating through the words. "That is slander. That is libel. That is a hallucination brought on by your obvious lack of stamina."
Donghwa doesn't even blink. He just picks up a piece of kimchi with his chopsticks, calm as a monk.
