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“Song Yanyan’s SunHan ABO Fanfiction”

Temporary marks were different from permanent ones. Temporary marks could be removed, and over time, there would be no trace of its existence on an Omega’s body.

However, most Omegas would not choose this course of action, preferring to alleviate their heat symptoms medically instead. Some believed that these Omegas were too hypocritical. It was like being against premarital sex—what’s wrong with having premarital sex that used protective measures that wouldn’t leave a lasting effect on the body?

Alphas wouldn’t understand, let alone Betas. Yet as an Omega, Han Bohan did understand.

He remembered his teacher telling him—when he was still in school—that presenting and marking were the two most important turning points in an Omega’s life. An Omega’s body would undergo not only a physiological but also a psychological change as a result of these two life-altering events. The act of presenting and marking was irreversible.

Han Bohan was terrified of these irreversible changes. Whether Prosecutor Han was confronted with vicious criminals or a heated debate in court, there wouldn’t be any change to his calm and collected countenance. Being marked, however, just wasn’t the same for an Omega, no matter how temporary the effects were.

Forced temporary marking was not criminalised, but it did violate the public security administration’s regulations. Han Bohan had once encountered the victim of an intentional assault. They were an Omega who’d been assaulted as well as forcibly marked. He remembered the victim telling him, “Although the mark is temporary—once his pheromones invade your body, you’d lose all strength to resist him.”

Han Bohan couldn’t understand. “Your whole body goes weak?”

The victim said, “It’s a psychological submission, and—” he hadn’t finished the sentence. Despite the fact that his temporary mark no longer affected him during their conversation, the Omega’s face was still filled with fear. Eventually, he said, “It’s extremely terrifying, because you didn’t initially love him.”

Han Bohan let out a full-body shudder, and his sweat-drenched body began to cool, temporarily dispelling the heat of his feverish body; he only felt sticky and achy.

Sun Yao didn’t press Han Bohan to respond immediately after posing his question, instead patiently waiting for an answer.

Han Bohan raised his head to look at Sun Yao.

It was as if he’d never paid such close attention to Sun Yao before. The lighting in the detention centre was awful, and Han Bohan had always sat on the other side of the metal grilles; no matter what the person on the inside looked like, under those lights, and in that environment, they would only appear hideous. That wooden interrogation chair had accumulated who knows how much grime, and the suspects who’d been interrogated had smeared a lot of red ink. The people who sat on that chair, without exception, all wore numb and haggard expressions that lacked luster.

But right then, as he examined Sun Yao more closely, he realised how attractive he actually was. Though he was a little tanned and thin, he had a handsome face and a nice face shape. What stood out the most were his eyes—they were a deep, dark black, and despite his many trials and tribulations, those eyes of his remained clear.

Han Bohan consciousness began to blur once more. He wanted to touch Sun Yao’s face, but when he tried to raise his hand, he realised that they were still bound, and thus started struggling.

Sun Yao captured his hand and cupped his jaw at the same time, forcing Han Bohan to meet his eyes. “Han Bohan, look at me. Do you want a temporary mark or not?”

A burst of emotion surged forth within him; Han Bohan could feel his body start to get wet again. He knew that he was on the verge of another wave of heat—if he failed to decide now, his willpower would once again be engulfed by lust. He kept his legs tightly closed, grabbed Sun Yao’s hand, and eventually gave a nod. “I do.”

Sun Yao stared at him. “Are you still sober? Do you want a lifetime mark?”

Han Bohan shook his head, his voice starting to shake. “Not a lifetime mark, a temporary one. Do it.”

Sun Yao confirmed that he hadn’t spoken these words with a heat-addled mind, helped Han Bohan sit up a little with a hand on his waist, then laid Han Bohan face down in his arms. He then lowered his head and gently caressed Han Bohan’s nape.

Han Bohan’s neck was just as clean and pretty as the rest of him. His glands did not protrude, but if one pressed down on the area, they could feel the difference between the tissue and his regular flesh.

Tormented by his heat, Han Bohan gradually lost his mind. He angled his head, seeking out Sun Yao’s lips for a kiss. This time, Sun Yao didn’t reject him outright and even lowered his head to kiss his lips. With the tangling of their lips and tongues, their pheromones fused together, and the disoriented Omega greedily inhaled the Alpha’s scent.

Before this, Sun Yao had never had any kind of intimate relationship with an Omega. He and his deceased wife had met when they were very young, and he had never believed that humans should be dictated by pheromones rather than their own genuine hearts. He and his wife loved each other; and their passions had never required the help of pheromones.

But at this very moment, he finally, genuinely realised how difficult it was for humans to resist their animal instincts. Omega pheromones were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted; it made him want to abandon everything and lose himself in them. At first, his intention had been to appease Han Bohan’s emotions with this one kiss, but as they deepened the kiss, his own emotions surged as well.

Sun Yao forced himself to break away from Han Bohan’s wet, hot, soft lips. Hearing Han Bohan’s dissatisfied whimper caused him to shift his lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, gradually moving south to his jaw, and finally arriving at his nape.

Han Bohan’s nape appeared to have softened, and it was particularly fragrant.

Sun Yao sucked on the skin there before gently cradling it between his teeth. Han Bohan was trembling all over, and he could feel it. He pressed Han Bohan’s head to his shoulder with one hand while stroking his back with the other, slowly and incessantly releasing his pheromones, appeasing Han Bohan until he was completely relaxed in his embrace.

Sun Yao raised his head slightly. He could hear his own heavy breathing. He took a deep breath, then bit through the skin of Han Bohan’s nape with his canines, piercing right into his glands.

Han Bohan suddenly tensed up. He jerked slightly, yet he didn’t struggle, like an animal in its death throes.

Alpha pheromones were injected into the glands on Han Bohan’s nape through Sun Yao’s teeth, which then circulated throughout his entire body.

Han Bohan let out a muffled grunt as his taut body went limp. He had never felt anything like this; the pheromones that poured into his body brought intense waves of pleasure. He tightened his legs and parted them weakly, and eventually, his lower body became a complete mess.

Sun Yao’s teeth had left his skin, and in its place was his tongue, gently lapping up the bite mark on Han Bohan’s nape.

Han Bohan was still panting, but his mind was gradually clearing, a sign that his heat was coming to an end. It was, however, different from his previous heats. Han Bohan noticed something unusual about himself.

Sun Yao’s lips left his nape. He murmured, “What’s wrong?”

Han Bohan didn’t respond. After calming down, his other senses became particularly acute, and he could hear the sound of his own violent heartbeat. He buried his face into Sun Yao’s shoulder, unwilling to lift up his head.

Sun Yao’s pheromones flowed through his veins—every organ, every tissue, and even his every cell was filled with Sun Yao’s scent. He wanted Sun Yao to hold him forever and never let go. He never wanted to part with the warmth of Sun Yao’s body.

But Sun Yao grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away. He lowered his head and looked into Han Bohan’s eyes. “Did it work?” Sun Yao wasn’t sure how effective the temporary mark was either.

Han Bohan turned to face Sun Yao. His gleaming lips and eyes had turned crimson, and his face was devoid of any expression—only his chest rose and fell intensely. “I’m fine,” he said to Sun Yao after a long time, his voice hoarse.

Sun Yao got off the bed and headed outside.

Han Bohan sat up straight in bed, his gaze following Sun Yao’s back, then pausing at the doorway until Sun Yao returned with a towel and basin.

Sun Yao dragged a stool over to the bed, sat down, set the basin on the floor, and dipped the towel into the clear water.

He fixed his gaze on Han Bohan. He didn’t rush and only said, “I’ll untie those ropes for you.” He then reached out to loosen the restraints on Han Bohan’s wrists.

As Han Bohan looked down at Sun Yao’s slender fingers that were nimbly untying the knots, he was suddenly struck by a sense of suppression from powerful pheromones, rendering him almost immobile. He lifted his eyes and looked at Sun Yao and saw no trace of emotion on his face, but he knew that it was Sun Yao’s pheromones, not meant to soothe him like when he’d marked Han Bohan earlier, but with the intent of completely controlling Han Bohan.

In modern society, pheromone suppression, like violent suppression, was regarded as a barbaric act. Except for the times he had experienced it as a child when he angered his Alpha, he had never tested out what it was like to be suppressed by an Alpha’s pheromones as an adult. He found it difficult to bear, not only physically, but also mentally. He wasn’t sure if the pain was the result of being threatened by an Alpha or because the Alpha in question had given him a temporary mark.

He opened his mouth and found it a little hard to speak, but he forged on stubbornly, “You don’t have to control me with your pheromones—I won’t run.” After that, he added on with a whisper, “Don’t treat me like this.”

Sun Yao froze, and the Alpha pheromones in the air vanished the next second, leaving only a subtle scent.

Han Bohan’s freed hands were splayed across the bedsheets. They were wet to the touch from a combination of sweat and sticky bodily fluids.

Sun Yao apologised, saying, “I’m sorry.” He then untied the ropes on Han Bohan’s feet, bent down, picked up a wet towel, wrung it out, and wiped down Han Bohan’s body for him.

Han Bohan could feel how gentle he was. It was as if he was dealing with a small child. Remembering the fact that Sun Yao had a daughter who’d been in a vegetative state for so long, he wondered if Sun Yao treated his daughter with the same gentleness.

Sun Yao first wiped Han Bohan’s face, then his neck, chest, and lifted Han Bohan’s hands to wipe his arms and the side of his chest. Afterwards, he pressed close to Han Bohan’s front and wound his arms around Han Bohan to wipe his back.

This close, Han Bohan could smell the sweat on Sun Yao’s body. He closed his eyes and secretly inhaled, seeking for the scent of his pheromones that was mixed in with the smell of sweat.

After wiping down his body, Sun Yao held Han Bohan’s thigh with one hand and pulled his legs apart, then covered them with the wet towel.

As a matter of fact, Han Bohan could have refused him, could have pushed Sun Yao’s hand away and said, “I’ll do it myself”, but he stayed put and simply watched Sun Yao’s hands, somewhat entranced. Sun Yao’s fingers were beautifully shaped, slender and well-proportioned, and his knuckles were not too bulky, just a little rough. His skin was tanned, whereas the skin of Han Bohan’s thighs were the palest and most tender part on his entire body, creating a stark contrast with Sun Yao’s hand.

Moments later, Sun Yao moved his hand away from Han Bohan’s legs and took the towel and basin outside.

Han Bohan couldn’t figure out why a sense of sadness arose in his heart.

Sun Yao returned with Han Bohan’s clothes, including the underwear he’d taken off of him the night before. Sun Yao had simply rinsed them with water and hung them out to dry in the yard.

Han Bohan got dressed in silence.

Sun Yao sat on the edge of the bed, facing him.

When Han Bohan finished dressing, he turned to Sun Yao and asked, “What do you really want?”

“I want to see my daughter,” Sun Yao answered.

“And after that?” Han Bohan said.

Sun Yao didn’t answer.

Han Bohan took a deep breath before saying, “Turn yourself in, okay?”

This time, Sun Yao was the one asking Han Bohan: “And after that?”

Han Bohan stared at him for a moment, then said, “You said you weren’t the one who killed Cao Yuxiang.”

Sun Yao nodded. “No, I wasn’t.

“I’ll look for evidence,” Han Bohan said. “If it proves that you didn’t kill him, you’ll be released. You can go to the hospital and openly take your daughter away, and you won’t have to hide for the rest of your life with no money or a secure life, no way to treat your daughter, and stuck with the title of a murderer forever.”

Sun Yao lowered his gaze. A moment later, he raised his hands, clasped them in front of his lips, and closed his eyes with a pained expression, bowing his head helplessly.

For a brief moment, as Han Bohan stared at the top of Sun Yao’s head, he wanted to reach out and touch his hair—and yet he didn’t move an inch.

☆ ☆ ☆

⟵ Extra III Part 3 | TOC | Extra III Part 5 ⟶

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