Unexpected

The whisper of silk sheets sliding against feverish skin was the loudest sound in the penthouse suite, punctuated only by ragged, breathless whimpers.

JJ had made it through the entire international gala without a single slip. He had managed itineraries, translated subtle conversational nuances, and kept three demanding foreign investors charmed with effortless poise. But somewhere between the final toast and the elevator ride up, the cocktail he had accepted out of courtesy—a drink clearly tampered with—had ignited a violent, artificial fire in his blood. By the time Net unlocked their suite door, JJ’s suppressants had shattered entirely.

The scent hitting the air was devastating: sweet white peaches submerged in rich honey, spiked with the sharp, unmistakable chemical panic of a forced heat.

"Siraphop..." JJ gasped, fingers clawing at the collar of his tailored dress shirt, ripping the buttons free until his pale throat was bared. He was trembling violently, pupils blown wide, his Omega instincts tearing through his polished professional veneer. "Something’s... wrong. Please... I can’t breathe."

Net had stepped forward with the sole intention of hauling his assistant into a cold shower, but the moment JJ stumbled against his chest, the heavy, dark musk of sandalwood and crushed cedar broke free from Net’s glands. The sheer concentration of distress pheromones shattered the Alpha's iron restraint. Net’s vision blurred with red. His pulse thudded like a war drum in his ears, his body seizing upon the scent with predatory, primal fury.

A rut, sudden and overwhelming, surged to meet the synthetic heat.

"JJ," Net groaned, his voice dropping into a guttural register he had never once used in the boardroom. He caught JJ by the hips, hoisting him off the carpet and slamming him gently but decisively against the mattress. "Hold on to me."

"Net... please, it hurts, it burns..." JJ sobbed, arching up off the bed, his thighs falling open in an instinctive plea for relief.

Net stripped off his own jacket and tie with furious efficiency. His hands, usually so steady and measured over quarterly reports and multi-million-dollar contracts, trembled as he unbuckled JJ’s trousers, stripping the smaller man bare. The slick was already pouring down JJ’s inner thighs, perfumed and scorching.

Net couldn’t hold back. Leaning over him, he captured JJ’s parted lips in a bruising, possessive kiss, drinking in the whimpers vibrating in his assistant’s throat. JJ clung to Net’s broad shoulders, his nails digging through the fabric of the Alpha’s shirt, crying out into his mouth as Net’s fingers worked between his thighs, coating themselves in hot slick before pushing two fingers deep inside.

"Ah! Net—" JJ cried out, his hips jerking upwards. The tightness was unbearable, clamped around Net’s fingers, shuddering with each pulse of the unnatural heat.

"I've got you. Look at me, JJ," Net ordered softly, his breath hot against JJ’s flushed cheek. "You're safe with me."

Net unfastened his trousers, freeing his thick, aching cock, already heavy and pre-cum dripping from the blunt head. He parted JJ’s legs wider, hooking his knees over his forearms, and pressed the tip directly against JJ’s entrance. JJ let out a broken, needy whine, his eyes unfocused with lust and desperation.

With a low growl, Net drove his hips forward, burying himself completely in one smooth, unrelenting thrust.

JJ screamed into the quiet room, his head arching back until his throat was a taut line. The sheer fullness was overwhelming, stretching him wide, but the burning ache inside him finally found its antidote. Net didn’t give him time to adjust; driven mad by the rut, he began to pump his hips with deep, bruising strokes, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, meeting JJ’s desperate keens with raw, possessive force.

"Net... harder, please, Net... more..." JJ pleaded incoherently, his hands sliding down to grip Net’s biceps, riding the rhythm as the Alpha’s thrusts became erratic and fiercely territorial.

Net leaned down, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin of JJ's neck until his teeth scraped lightly over the unblemished mating gland. He didn’t bite—not yet, holding back that final, permanent claim with the last shreds of his sanity—but he sucked hard enough to leave a dark, blooming bruise.

"You're mine," Net grunted, slamming deep into JJ’s sweet heat, every impact eliciting a breathless squeak. "You've always been mine, haven't you?"

JJ couldn't answer with words; he could only wrap his legs tighter around Net’s waist, dragging him closer. The friction built rapidly to an agonizing, electric pitch. JJ came first with a strangled shriek, his inner walls spasming violently around Net’s shaft, milking him with rhythmic contractions.

That violent clamp broke Net’s remaining control. With a sharp roar, Net drove in to the hilt as the base of his cock swelled, the knot locking firmly past JJ’s ring of muscle. Net spilled his seed inside him in hot, heavy pulses, anchoring them together while JJ cried softly into his neck, overwhelmed by the pure, primitive completion of the knot.

---

They extended their stay in Tokyo by an entire week. Officially, Net sent an email to the board detailing delayed negotiations with the Japanese syndicate. In reality, they spent five days tangled in that bed, riding out the waves of rut and heat until the drugs burned out of JJ’s system and Net’s fever broke.

When clarity returned, fear followed.

"We need to forget this happened, Net," JJ had said quietly on their final morning, sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, fully dressed in a fresh suit but refusing to meet Net’s eyes. "If anyone finds out... our careers, your reputation as CEO... it will ruin everything we built."

Net had stood before him, calm and immaculate once more, though his eyes carried an intensity that hadn't been there a week prior.

"I won't force you into anything, JJ," Net replied steadily. "If you need time, take it. But do not ask me to forget what happened here. We will revisit this when we are back on familiar ground."

Back at headquarters in Bangkok, Net allowed three days of suffocating silence before he locked his office door during lunch hour, trapping JJ between his desk and his towering frame.

"I can't do this," Net said, his voice quiet but laced with absolute certainty. "I spent seven days learning what you taste like, JJ. I am not going back to pretend we are just colleagues."

JJ looked up, his defenses cracking. "Net, people already talk. The rumors—"

"Let them talk," Net interrupted, reaching out to gently cup JJ’s chin, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. "I want you. Privately, if that makes you feel safe. We don't tell the board, we don't tell the staff. Not until you are ready. But give me a chance to court you properly."

Stunned by the earnestness in the Alpha’s dark eyes, JJ had finally nodded, letting out a breath he felt he’d been holding for years. "Okay. Privately."

Their quiet agreement, however, lasted less than five days.

---

By Thursday afternoon, the executive floor was running on high alert. Net’s parents—the founding chairmen of the conglomerate—had made an unexpected visit to oversee quarterly projections, accompanied by Net’s close friends and senior directors, Keng and Latte.

JJ was running on fumes. For two days, an unsettling nausea had plagued his stomach, accompanied by intense dizzy spells that suppressants couldn't dull.

"JJ, you look like a ghost," Ohm whispered, leaning over JJ’s workstation with a stack of printed schedules. Kim and Namping, who had walked over from the design division, flanked him with worried expressions.

"I’m just... tired," JJ murmured, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple. "Big week. The Tokyo trip had a lot of moving parts."

"You haven't touched your lunch," Namping noted, pointing at the cold bento sitting on the corner of the desk. "And your scent is completely off, P'JJ. It’s heavy. Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?"

"I’m fine," JJ insisted, pushing himself to his feet. "Khun Net needs these quarterly binders in the boardroom before the elder Mr. Manithikhun starts the briefing."

He took two steps forward. The fluorescent lights overhead suddenly warped, blurring into blinding streaks of white. His ears rang with a deafening hum.

"JJ?" Kim’s voice sounded far away.

JJ reached for the edge of the desk to steady himself, but his knees buckled. Darkness rushed in from the edges of his vision, and before anyone could catch him, he collapsed limply onto the carpeted floor, the folders scattering around him in a shower of paper.

"JJ!"

Screams echoed down the corridor. Latte and Keng stepped out of the executive lounge just in time to see Ohm and Namping dropping to their knees beside JJ’s unconscious form. Net’s mother, walking briskly from the boardroom, gasped in horror.

"Call the company clinic immediately!" Net’s father barked, his authoritative voice cutting through the panic. "Get the medical team up here now!"

---

Net stepped off the private elevator twenty minutes later, having just concluded an off-site meeting across town. The moment he saw the crowd gathered outside the medical wing on the third floor, a cold dread seized his chest.

"What happened?" Net demanded, his voice slicing through the tense murmurs.

Latte stepped forward, his expression grave. "Net, calm down. It’s JJ. He fainted outside your office."

Net felt the air leave his lungs. He pushed past Latte, striding toward the small clinic waiting area where Ohm, Kim, and Namping sat visibly shaken. His parents stood near the consultation doors, his mother pacing anxiously.

"Where is he?" Net asked, his scent turning sharp with barely suppressed agitation. "Is he awake?"

Before anyone could answer, the clinic door swung open and Dr. Virote stepped out, pulling his spectacles from his nose.

"Khun Net, Chairman, Madame Manithikhun," the doctor greeted them, looking slightly astonished. "He is awake and resting. His vitals are stable, but the fainting spell was caused by extreme exhaustion combined with an acute biological reaction."

"What reaction?" Net asked, stepping closer, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"He is pregnant," Dr. Virote stated plainly.

A collective gasp rippled through the hallway. Ohm covered his mouth in shock, while Kim and Namping gripped each other's arms. Keng looked over at Net with wide, searching eyes.

"Pregnant?" Net’s mother echoed, her brow furrowing in utter bewilderment. "JJ doesn't even have a partner. He practically lives at this company. Doctor, are you certain?"

Net’s mind raced, his Alpha instincts locking onto the doctor’s every syllable. "How far along is he?"

"Just under three weeks," Dr. Virote answered. "It appears an irregular, highly concentrated cycle triggered the conception. It's a completely normal bodily response given the biological circumstances, but his hormone levels are fluctuating wildly. He needs absolute rest."

Three weeks.

The timeline slammed into Net’s chest like a physical blow. The Tokyo hotel suite. The spilled drink. The days spent tangled together behind closed doors.

It was his.

Net’s mother turned sharply toward her son, her maternal intuition razor-sharp as she caught the subtle, protective spike in his pheromones. "Siraphop. What is going on?"

Net took a slow, measured breath, allowing the mantle of CEO to settle firmly over his shoulders, but this time, the authority was backed by a fierce, unyielding devotion.

"Mother, Father," Net said, his voice ringing clearly down the quiet corridor for everyone—friends and family alike—to hear. "The relationship between JJ and myself shifted recently. We intended to inform you properly when the time was right, but this was not how I wanted you to learn of it."

"Net..." Latte breathed, stunned.

"The pregnancy was unexpected," Net continued, meeting his mother's searching gaze without flinching. "It occurred due to an incident during our overseas trip—a situation I will not elaborate on publicly. But make no mistake: this child is mine. And I will take complete responsibility for both of them."

Leaving the hallway frozen in stunned silence, Net turned on his heel and pushed through the door into the private recovery room.

JJ was lying on the examination bed, his face pale against the white pillow. Tears were silently tracking down his temples, soaking into the fabric beneath his ears. When he heard the door click shut, he turned his head away, his shoulders trembling.

"Net..." JJ whispered, his voice broken. "Everyone knows. Your parents... the team. I ruined it. I ruined everything."

Net closed the distance between them in three long strides. He sat on the edge of the mattress and gently, reverently, gathered JJ into his arms, pulling him against his chest.

"Hush," Net murmured, pressing a warm kiss to JJ’s temple, letting his sandalwood scent wash over the frightened Omega like a thick, protective blanket. "Look at me, JJ."

JJ sniffled, opening red-rimmed eyes to look into Net’s face.

"This isn't how I planned to tell them," Net said softly, his thumb sweeping away the tears on JJ’s cheeks. "I wanted to take you to dinner. I wanted to hold your hand in front of them and show them how incredible you are outside of this office. I wanted to move at your pace."

"Net, a baby..." JJ sobbed softly, resting his forehead against Net’s shoulder. "What about the company? What will they say about you knocked up your assistant?"

"Let them say whatever they want," Net replied fiercely, his voice dropping to a low, intimate vow. "You are not just my assistant. You haven't been for a very long time. I love you, Radchapon. You and this baby are my priority now. You will never have to hide behind schedules or closed doors again. Do you hear me?"

JJ’s breath hitched, the raw conviction in Net’s words finally penetrating the haze of panic. Slowly, JJ nodded, his hands coming up to clutch the front of Net’s shirt, anchoring himself to the Alpha’s steady heartbeat.

"I'm with you," JJ whispered softly. "I trust you."

Net smiled, a rare, tender expression that softened every sharp angle of his handsome face. He kissed JJ deeply, sealing the promise between them, before helping him sit up. Net retrieved a clean suit jacket from the hook—his own—and draped it carefully over JJ’s shoulders, letting his scent envelop him completely.

Together, Net linked their fingers, holding JJ’s hand firmly in his own as he guided him toward the clinic door.

When Net opened the door, the hallway was still packed. His parents, Keng, Latte, Ohm, Kim, and Namping were all waiting, watching them with bated breath.

Net didn't let go of JJ’s hand. Instead, he pulled JJ slightly forward, placing a warm, protective hand on the small of his back as he addressed his mother and father.

"Mother, Father," Net said, his voice calm, ringing with unmistakable pride and finality. "I would like you to officially welcome JJ. Not as my assistant, but as your future son-in-law."

A collective murmur of awe swept through the room. Net’s mother let out a soft, tearful laugh, stepping forward with open arms, while JJ leaned slightly into Net’s side, feeling—for the first time in weeks—that the rumors were finally behind them, replaced by a future they would build together in the light.