Jeongguk has had a very long, tiring day. Working for Yoongi and Namjoon is fun most of the time, but helping to manage a record label owned by two very busy rappers means that he ends up doing a lot of the paperwork. Without help. Not to mention that Jin — Namjoon’s husband — is seven months pregnant and constantly in need of his Alpha, who is all too happy to comply with his beloved’s demands. Needless to say, Jeongguk and Yoongi have been spread pretty thin over the past few months.
It starts on an ordinary Friday night, the two working side by side in the eldest rapper’s small studio. Jeongguk sighs as the text on the pages starts to blur. He glares at them. As he is attempting to set them aflame with his eyes, Yoongi stirs next to him.
“I give up,” his hyung exhales loudly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not going to get any further tonight.”
Jeongguk yawns. “Yeah, I think all these numbers are starting to make me lose my grip on reality.” He turns to Yoongi, who’s leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “I think I’m gonna call it a night too.”
Yoongi cracks an eye open to look up at his hard-working… assistant. Friend. Dongsaeng. “Wanna go get a drink?”
Jeongguk laughs tiredly, but agrees. “Sure, hyung. You’re paying, though.” Yoongi just giggles softly, like simply thinking about alcohol has already made him drunk.
They pack up and trek down to the the little sul-jib near their office, chilly night-time air nipping at their noses. Yoongi buries his inside his scarf cutely. They reach the bar rather quickly, and by the ends of their first bottles of soju are pleasantly buzzed and reasonably loose-lipped. Their second bottles have Yoongi speaking satoori and Jeongguk laughing loudly. The conversation is easy, though. Mostly.
“Okay but seriously, Guk-ah,” Yoongi smiles, “What’s been up with you lately? It’s like everytime Jin-hyung and Joon-ah are around you forget how to speak. You haven’t been shy like that since you had a crush on that senior your freshman year, and that was like, years ago.”
Jeongguk giggles thinly, remembering back when school was his greatest worry and Yoongi and Namjoon were just his hyungs, and not his bosses. Remembering when Seokjin and Namjoon were nothing more than a casual hook-up. Friends with benefits, maybe. And now, they’re married. Mated, even.
“There’s nothing wrong. You’re imagining it.”
Yoongi hums suspiciously.
Jeongguk shivers a little, from the cold or from his boss’s stare, one could only guess.
And then, Yoongi gasps, eyes wide. “Maybe you have a crush on Jin-hyung. Yah, Gukkie, do you have a crush on Jin-hyung?!” he exclaims, holding back laughter.
“Ew, hyung, no. He’s like my mom, that’s gross,” Jeongguk replies, still giggling.
Yoongi, child that he has become, laughs and ponders this. “Then… on Namjoonie?”
“On… the baby.”
“I see. You’re jealous of the baby!”
“Hyung. Yoongi-hyung. I am not jealous of the baby.”
Yoongi huffs. “Fine. Then it must be Jinnie-hyung.” Jeongguk sighs and rests his head on the table.
“But you didn’t like Jinnie-hyung before? What changed….” Jeongguk can practically hear the wheels turning inside Yoongi’s newly five-year-old mind.
“Aha! If you don’t have a crush on Jin-hyung, then you must have a crush on his boobs,” he says, finally.
Jeongguk feels his stomach drop. So not five-year-old after all. His hyung is not supposed to know about that. Nobody (besides maybe his internet search history) is supposed to know about that. It’s just that ever since Jin and Namjoon announced the omega’s pregnancy, he can’t seem to help but watch Jin’s chest as it grows bigger and bigger. The other day the omega was waiting in the lounge for Namjoon to finish gathering his things and his new breasts were so full that one of them started leaking into his shirt and Jin was so embarrassed he cried but God if it wasn’t the hottest thing Jeongguk had ever seen, and then when Namjoon arrived and the two of them disappeared to the bathroom he just imagined what they must be doing, Jin-hyung unclasping the flap of his nursing bra and his boss taking the soft, swollen nipple between his lips and sucking, swallowing all of that delicious smelling milk, and — and he can’t stop fantasizing about his hyung, his pregnant hyung, his other hyung’s husband for God’s sake... and he feels terrible about it.
A few seconds of awkward silence later, Yoongi bursts out into hysterical laughter once more.
“Oh my god! You totally do!”
“Hyung!” Jeongguk hisses, cheeks flushed, “Keep it down!”
Yoongi gets louder. “Oh my god, Gukkie, you are such an alpha!”
“Hyung,” Jeongguk blushes, embarrassed, because his hyung is a beta, and not an alpha like himself, and there are some things betas just can’t understand. “It’s weird.”
“I mean, it’s not that weird. For an alpha,” Yoongi snickers. “Okay, it’s you and it’s Jin-hyung, so it is pretty weird, but it’s like, not that weird that it turns you on, you know? Like, there’s porn of it right? A lot of it. You’re not the only one.” Jeonguk just blushes harder, and Yoongi sighs. Now he’s gotta play hyung. “Look, Hobi's friend owns a place just out of town. Totally legal, don't worry. Discreet, too. I'm just saying it might be worth checking out. See if it's something you're into when it’s not…” Yoongi shudders. “...Namjin.”
Eventually, they head home for the night. But before they part ways, Jeongguk gets the name and address of the place from his hyung. You know, just in case.
It seems like it should feel slightly weird going to an out of the way “milk bar” supposedly owned by a friend of your beta hyung’s beta not-quite-boyfriend, and so, of course, it does. He’s heard of these places before, where alphas and betas and even other omegas can go to drink omega breast milk straight from the teats of lactating omegas, but he’s never seriously considered visiting one before. He takes comfort though in the fact that the omegas aren’t really knocked up, just experiencing the false pregnancy that so many unmated omegas suffer through between six and twelve weeks after the end of their heat cycles. He imagines it would be very uncomfortable sucking on the breasts of a pregnant and likely mated omega he had just met. Not that this might not also be uncomfortable, but he supposes he’ll find out.
As he walks into the establishment, he is astounded by how much it looks like a regular nightclub. There are flashing lights, loud music, a bar. A stage. Perhaps it looks a little more like a stripclub, then. Still, it’s shockingly familiar. The real difference is the staff and the clientele.
From the entranceway, Jeongguk can see a variety of Omegas around the room. Some appear to be wait-staff, while others — presumably also patrons — lounge on sofas or sit at the bar. Some are dancing, as well. And then, of course, there are also some enjoying certain… services. He sees a couple omegas with breast pumps milking themselves at the bar. They’ve gathered a bit of crowd now, Alphas and betas having taken up all the available seating in their immediate area. Jeongguk licks his lips subconsciously.
The best thing about the place though, Jeongguk notes as he goes to sit on a currently empty couch on the other side of the room, is the smell. It smells like fucking heaven. He’s in omega heaven.
It’s just like walking into a bakery, except baked goods don’t usually turn him on. Usually. Occasionally if he has a really good cream puff our chocolate mousse he’ll start to feel— oh my god he really does have thing for milk. Fuck. Well, shit. What is Yoongi-hyung going to think of me now? I mean he doesn’t have to know… I could just...
He’s momentarily so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely registers the dip of the couch beneath him, a pair of bodies now resting at the other end of the couch. Only semi-conscious of the action, he turns his head to see whatever’s going on, and comes face to face with the prettiest ass he has ever seen.
At the other end of the suddenly much too small couch, there are two absolutely gorgeous omegas making out. They lie horizontally, feet almost touching his thigh, one (the one with the aforementioned pretty ass) straddling the other. The one on top’s got a baby blue theme going on, clothed only in tiny light wash jean shorts, a lacy pale blue bra, sheer white thigh highs with lace at the top and - are those heels? Three-inch heels the same color as his shorts, laced up to the ankle like boots, but with the toes showing. From what Jeongguk can tell, he also has a silver choker around his neck, the same color as his hair. Jeongguk wants to slide his finger under it and pull.
The boy on the bottom has the most beautiful golden skin Jeongguk has ever seen. From where he’s seated, Jeongguk can’t make out much of his outfit other than his tight leather pants and black heeled boots, but he is 1000% turned on.
Right until he gets kicked in the side. He lets out a — very unmanly — little yelp as both omega boys scramble to look at him.
“Shit, sorry man are you okay??” says baby blue rather inelegantly but Jeongguk suddenly doesn’t care because wow he’s pretty.
“Minnie, you gotta be careful baby. Those things are fucking pointy,” says the other one and wow, that is one nice voice, how did Jeongguk end up on a couch with the two most beautiful omegas in existence!?
The golden boy is wearing what appears to be the same bra as baby blue boy — Minnie? — but his is a beautiful coral shade to compliment his warm skin tone. Jeongguk thinks he can see a sliver of lacy black pantie peeking out from over the hem of his leather pants and man if he wasn’t already hard, he would be now and — oh shit, I’m hard and they’re watching me oh fuck —
They’ve gotta be mind-readers, because the second he thinks that a sly grin spreads across baby blue’s face and, great, he’s staring.
“Tae, baby,” he starts slowly, “I think this little alpha just got hard watching us.” He slides from his seat in the other boy’s and towards Jeongguk and his growing distress.
“What’s your name, Alpha?” the omega asks sweetly.
“Jeongguk,” he manages to reply, “Jeon Jeongguk.”
“I’m Jimin,” replies the boy with a smile, “And this is Taehyung,” he introduces as the other leans up to wrap his arms around Jimin’s waist.
From where his head rests on Jimin’s shoulder, Taehyung glances down at Jeongguk’s lap. “Looks like quite the problem you’ve got there,” he notes, “Mind if we help?”
And Jeongguk, smooth motherfucker that he very rarely is, replies, “Sure. But only if you let me help you both too.” He almost adds in a wink, but refrains. He’s not twelve.
Jimin’s laugh is sweet enough to make up for any of the embarrassment that could have caused him. “It’s a deal, Jeon Jeongguk. Now how about a kiss, sugar?” And Jimin’s lips are soft and plump and Jeongguk is ready to die.