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light the morning

Summary:

It engulfs him slowly, warm and thick and rich like hot chocolate—comforting and slightly hypnotizing like Yoongi’s honeyed scent—the realization that he wants to stay this way for as long as possible. For the rest of his life and beyond that, hopefully.

Chapter 1: I

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The airport is surprisingly barren when they arrive. Well, not barren. The airport is far from empty, filled with what must be the usual amount of traffic and people. It’s super busy, actually, but what Jungkook means is that they’ve nearly made it to the car and there’s yet to be screams and a sudden onslaught of fans. 

It’s an added perk, he supposes, that they didn’t publicize this upcoming interview, as well as landing at such a late hour that it’s considered early. Everyone’s mostly minding themselves, dozing off in stiff chairs, or distracting themselves to stay awake while nursing a cheap cup of coffee. 

Then a camera flashes in the peripherals of his vision and—ah, they’ve been spotted after all. That’s just as well. Nothing new. 

They continue on their path, Namjoon and Seokjin leading at the front. A few fans approach from the side, but they maintain their distance, calling out supportive and loving words. It’s nice. Most airport encounters are overwhelming and stressful, but this is nice. A burst of fond appreciation builds in Jungkook’s chest, and he smiles under his face mask, keeping his gaze on Hobi-hyung’s back ahead of him. 

Min Yoongi,” a fan chimes, laughter bubbly in her voice, before she sings out in English, “Suga suga, how you get so fly?

The other fans with her burst into giggles, singing along until the entire handful of fans are almost drunkingly serenading Bangtan’s resident Suga. Jungkook doesn’t recognize the song, but his own giggles bubble in his chest, spilling over when he glances just behind him to see Yoongi-hyung speed up with his head ducked. The tips of his ears are pink. 

“Yoongi-yah, they like you,” Jungkook croons teasingly as his hyung falls into step beside him. 

The elder glances up at him for a few blank seconds before averting his gaze back down.

“You stop that,” he mumbles, muffled through his face mask. 

Jungkook’s witty reply is cut off when Hoseok turns around, dancing his way to Yoongi’s side while singing along, “Suga, how you get so fly?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, but his shoulders raise, ears flushing darker.

Jungkook tries to move closer, maybe tease him some more, because the chance to tease Yoongi-hyung is too good to pass up, but Taehyung comes up from behind them, worming his way between the two and throwing an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder, adding in to Hobi-hyung’s obnoxious singing. 

The two of them pull Yoongi ahead, and Jungkook watches with bright eyes as Yoongi grumbles and swats them off, the tips of his ears nearly glowing with heat. His cheeks must be completely flushed. Jungkook stares at the back of the elder’s head, fingers twitching, wishing the face mask were gone so he could see it.

Yoongi-hyung looks really prett—funny. He looks really funny when he’s blushing.

A throat clears softly next to him. Jungkook turns to find Jimin beside him, watching him with a mischievous smirk. It irks the hell out of the younger, makes his hackles rise in annoyance (read: defense). 

So he blurts out, “What’re you looking at, shorty?” 

Ignoring Jimin’s offended “Yah!” he bounds ahead to where Taehyung and Hoseok are still singing amongst themselves, shoving Jimin’s knowing look and thoughts of tracing Yoongi-hyung’s flushed skin with his fingertips to the back of his mind. 

 


  

The thing is: it isn’t very hard to like Min Yoongi.

Yoongi is just...cute. Like Seokjin’s said in an interview before, Yoongi-hyung’s personality is just naturally cute. The way he can curl up anywhere to sleep (always with his hands tucked between his thighs), his pouty way of speaking, his cute expressions and ‘bathroom’ selcas. Jungkook just doesn’t know how some of their fans can think Yoongi is cold and scary. 

When he found out that others, international fans mostly, are calling Yoongi-hyung ‘lil meow meow,’ it gave him a good laugh, gave them all a good laugh, while Yoongi just rolled his eyes and pouted in that ridiculously cute way of his. Yoongi-hyung really is such a kitten. He’s glad a lot of fans see it.  

The only times Yoongi is intimidating is when he works. Not because he’s scary or mean, but because his drive and passion is so intense. Yoongi gives his all when it comes to music, pours his heart and soul into everything he does. Yoongi-hyung is a perfectionist—he never gives less than his everything—so it also kind of pisses Jungkook off when he’s called lazy. 

Yoongi’s presence on stage is compelling, his rapping absolutely breathtaking. Jungkook never fails to get emotional when he listens to his hyung’s rap. He’ll admit that sometimes he goes back to watch videos of First Love live, just to lose himself in Yoongi’s powerful narrative. Jungkook may be a bit of an RM fanboy—Taehyung has Yoongi’s number one fan spot covered—but the pure, raw emotion Yoongi gives when rapping is...

It’s indescribable. 

At first, Jungkook didn’t think much about his feelings because they’re all a little in love with him.

As the eldest and Pack Alpha, Seokjin looks after Yoongi in a different way than he does the others, because as Bangtan’s only Omega, Yoongi requires a different kind of care. They were roommates for the longest time, so Seokjin has a special, unique connection with him. They’re forever roommates, partners in crime. Seokjin-hyung also likes to use his hyung status to tease Yoongi, enjoys making the Omega grumpy and pouty.

(Jungkook doesn’t blame him. Teasing Yoongi-hyung is as fun as fun as teasing Jimin. The two shorties just make it so easy.)

Namjoon’s known Yoongi-hyung the longest, lived with him the longest. Their bond really shows in subtle ways—like how the Beta’s hands automatically find Yoongi’s shoulder whenever the elder is near—or in really big ways, like that one Run episode where they made exactly the same pose several times, or that interview where—when the others couldn’t decide—Namjoon readily picked Yoongi as the person he’d spend the last day on Earth with. 

Hoseok is Yoongi’s soul partner, his battery. The Alpha provides light to all of them, but especially to Yoongi-hyung, who works himself so hard and gets so worn out. The Omega needs the boost of energy, just as much as Hobi-hyung needs to be grounded sometimes. Most people wouldn’t think they’d get along as well as they do, with their contrasting personalities, but they balance each other out perfectly. 

Jimin is known to be the cutest in Bangtan, but Jimin himself thinks that Yoongi is the most adorable thing ever. No one praises Yoongi nearly half as much as Park Jimin. The Alpha is always calling their hyung cute and pretty and coomplimenting his outfits, hugging and petting him. Once, he’d gotten so excessive that Seokjin sat him down and sternly asked if he was trying to court Yoongi. 

After a long conversation, it turned out that Jimin had read hateful comments towards their Yoongi-hyung and had decided that he’d constantly let the Omega know how amazing he is. 

“Yoongi’s beautiful and he’s gotta know it,” Jimin had declared dramatically, slamming a fist down on the table and puffing out his chest extravagantly. “I’m gonna tell him, everyday for the rest of my life!”

Not that Jungkook would know that. It’s not like he was sitting outside the door with a glass cup to his ear. No, Jimin had just filled him in afterwards, and what a fucking relief, honestly. 

And Taehyung. Kim fucking Taehyung. It amazes Jungkook how Taehyung and Yoongi’s relationship has evolved so much from what it was in the beginning. They were the least similar in Bangtan, almost complete opposites. Whereas Taehyung is extroverted and touchy, Yoongi is introverted and reluctant of skinship. Taehyung always had a bit of a fanboy crush for their hyung, but the two were never personally close, not as much as they were with others.

Bon Voyage and Run BTS helped changed that. It’s comical, how often they’re paired together. At some point, Jungkook was sure the staff was rigging the teams somehow. And the one time Jungkook had actually been close to being on Yoongi’s team, he had to go and switch cards—with Taehyung

Jungkook may have a crush (read: be deeply, hopelessly in love with) Yoongi-hyung, but no one’s admiration for the Omega is quite as high as Taehyung’s. After all the bonding they’ve done, Taehyung is easily one of the closest to Yoongi-hyung, as well as his number one fan, his hype man, repeatedly stating that Yoongi-hyung’s rap is his favorite in the entire world. Their bond is kind of beautiful. 

Taehyung is his best friend, and Yoongi’s probably the love of his life, so Jungkook’s glad they get along so well now. 

And as for Jungkook himself, well... He’s not exactly a little in love with Yoongi. He’d only been half-joking when he told the Omega to save his fourth finger. The list of ‘Why Jeon Jungkook Loves Min Yoongi’ goes on and on. Jungkook grew up in BTS—he never really got to experience the world. But Yoongi-hyung knows so much about it, more than Namjoon-hyung. Jungkook thinks that’s most likely what started off his infatuation with the elder—Yoongi’s knowledge and his wise mind—which settled over time into something deeper and stronger as he grew closer to Yoongi. 

And his scent. Yoongi’s scent is easily Jungkook’s favorite out of Bangtan. There’s something indescribable about it, comforting in a way only an Omega’s can really be, but also something so inexplicably Yoongi. Like warm honey milk and fresh flowers. 

When they’d officially announced their statuses after Jungkook had finally presented, Yoongi-hyung received a lot of hate. There were fans who called him awful things, all because he’s an Omega in a predominately Alpha group, as if that had anything to do with their music or Yoongi’s contribution to Bangtan. 

As much as Yoongi tried to be strong, they could tell it affected him. Yoongi is so dependable and mature, and he makes them all feel calmer after a high-strung, stressful day. He takes care of them, never asking anything in return, because that’s the kind of person he is: selfless and genuinely kind. 

So the elder shouldered his own burdens—still does, though he’s more open to speaking about his troubles now. The negativity surrounding his status was bound to leave scars, but he’s healing. It settled down significantly when Jin-hyung personally made a statement when they’d decided to become a pack, basically telling the haters to back off, calling them out on letting statuses influence their judgment of Bangtan’s music. 

They're a pack. They’re family, so of course they love each other. Genuinely. But... Jungkook’s feelings—they go way back, before they pack bonded, before he’d even presented as an Alpha. 

From the beginning, Yoongi was it for him. 

Only Jimin and Taehyung have confronted him on it, informing him that his stares aren’t exactly subtle, but Jungkook thinks the hyungs know. Jungkook thinks Yoongi-hyung knows, though the maknae’s never explicitly stated his feelings, but his teasing often teeters very dangerously on the edge of what’s considered friendly and flirty

And judging by Yoongi-hyung’s flustered reactions, the Omega definitely doesn’t see him as a kid anymore, which is what Jungkook feared the most. 

(The look in Yoongi’s eyes when Jungkook winked at him during a Run shoot—coy and smouldering—sent all kinds of shivers down Jungkook’s spine.)

When Jungkook first truly realized the depth of his feelings, he’d spent almost three hours crying between Jimin and Taehyung. Not because he didn’t think he had a chance, but because he didn’t know what he’d do if he won’t be allowed to officially date Yoongi. 

Jungkook’s not the kind of person to half-ass anything. He’s fine with hiding a relationship from the fans, prefers it honestly. But he won’t suppress his feelings. If Yoongi-hyung were to feel the same way about him, why the fuck would Jungkook pass up being with him?

BigHit would allow it, wouldn’t they? They’d been so supportive of the seven of them becoming a pack, even though it could affect their work dynamic (it doesn’t). Of all the relationships that could come out of the seven of them, BigHit would definitely support Yoongi and him, right? They aren’t called BigHit’s OTP for no reason. 

There’s no going back, no turning off his feelings. Jungkook may not have much experience when it comes to love, but he did date before he debuted, so he’s not clueless. He’s not a child anymore. When he thinks of the future he wants, he sees Bangtan, and he sees Yoongi. That’s not changing anytime soon, not for anybody.

At this point, Jungkook can only hope for the best.

 


 

Even in the night, the weather outside is hot enough that when they finally gather in the lobby of the hotel, they’re all slightly damp with sweat, various members fanning their shirts and waving hands in their faces. Jungkook uses the collar of his t-shirt to pat his forehead, thanking every god in existence for the invention of central air conditioning. 

Namjoon waves them over, gesturing for the members to gather up. Their manager stands just behind him, holding the hotel room keys. They fall into a haphazard circle. Jungkook stands with Jimin on his left and Jin-hyung on his right. Just across him, slightly leaning against Hoseok, is Yoongi. 

“Good job at the interview,” Namjoon praises them, dimples popping out cutely. The interview went off without a hitch, no tedious or meaningless questions, and the mini games the host provided were fun. It was tiring, but a good time overall. 

Namjoon turns to grab the keys from their manager, who runs off, still having work to do. They wave goodbye, calling out thanks. 

“Okay, there’s three rooms between the seven of us, so we’re going to split 2-2-3,” Namjoon provides, holding up the key cards. 

Jungkook immediately begins to shift towards Jimin and Taehyung. Usually when they’re dividing hotel rooms, it’s easiest to group themselves by ages: maknae line in one room, 94’ line and the two eldest hyungs in the others.

Still, it’s not as if they don’t mix it up occasionally. So when Jimin actually pushes Jungkook back and pulls Taehyung with him to throw himself at Hobi-hyung, there’s really no reason for Jungkook to feel as hurt as he does. But why don’t they want to share with him? They’re like—the three musketeers. 

Jimin slings himself over Hoseok and sends him an unreadable expression, eyes darting to the side several times. Jungkook stares blankly at him. The elder gestures his head to the side almost imperceptibly, expression irritated and slightly judgmental as if he’s saying, “Are you an idiot?”  

From the corner or his eye, Jungkook sees Yoongi start to pad his way to Seokjin’s side. Jimin’s gesturing way too obviously and—oh, oh! 

Shooting forward, Jungkook wraps an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, pulling the startled Omega back towards himself.  Yoongi’s back hits his chest with a small sound of surprise. 

“I call Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook declares cheerfully, sending a bright smile to Namjoon and Seokjin over Yoongi’s shoulder.

The eldest gapes, face almost paling as he cries out, “No!”

Seokjin tries to reach for Yoongi, but Jungkook spins them away from their Pack Alpha’s grasp. Yoongi stumbles against him, tripping over his own feet as Jungkook laughs.

“Give me back my roommate,” Seokjin urges, still making grabby hands for Yoongi, disdain painting his features.

Jungkook sticks his tongue out at the eldest. “Nope.”

Seokjin groans, covering his face with his hands in a picture of pure torture. The other three—Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung—grin at their hyung’s dramatic antics, while Namjoon stands off to the side, looking down at the ground with a pout. 

“Is my snoring really that bad?” The Beta asks no one in particular. 

Two hands come up to hold Jungkook’s forearm where it rests across Yoongi’s collarbone. Jungkook glances down, watching Yoongi’s hands alternate patting his arm in a vaguely familiar beat, smile softening.

“I guess I’m with Kook, then,” Yoongi shrugs, and when he stays in Jungkook’s arms, leaning back against the younger despite them both being kind of sweaty, Jungkook practically laughs in Seokjin’s face. 

The Pack Alpha presses a hand over his chest. “My eternal roommate, abandoning me,” he laments. “I never thought the day would come.”

Yoongi stays silent, but Jungkook knows without being able to see that the elder is rolling his eyes. Really, Seokjin could easily make Jungkook listen to him, make him room with Namjoon, but he doesn’t. Never does. That’s one of the many things that’s amazing about their Pack Alpha.

Jungkook knows he’s won by the way Seokjin sighs and shuffles towards Namjoon. No one says anything further, everyone ready to head to their rooms. Namjoon gets the signal and starts passing out the room keys.

“We have the mini shoot tomorrow, so please,” he turns to Taehyung and Jimin, who’re whispering excitedly on either side of a seriously nodding Hoseok, holding the key card out to them. They freeze and stare at him with wide eyes. “Just rest.”

Jimin grabs the room key gingerly, nodding quickly with a suspiciously wide smile, as Taehyung chimes, “Aye, aye, captain!” Hoseok salutes with a stern expression, and then the three are off, skipping to the elevators, sunshine and flowers practically radiating off the trio. 

“No dibs on cleaning whatever mess they make,” Seokjin chirps, snatching the key from a visibly weary Namjoon. 

“Of course not,” the Beta sighs, handing the last key to a... weirdly silent Yoongi before trailing after Seokjin. 

Then it’s just the two of them. Jungkook glances down at Yoongi curiously. The Omega stares blankly at the key card in one hand, his other still holding Jungkook’s forearm. A frown forms on the younger’s lips.

Jungkook knows Yoongi’s silences, knows how to read between the lines, interpret the words Yoongi doesn’t say. Maybe not as well as Namjoon, but still well enough. This silence is distant—Yoongi caught up in his own mind, lost somewhere in the messy tangle of his thoughts. There’s a small fold between the elder’s brows, like he’s trying to think his way back, but can’t seem to quite find his way. 

Other than that, the Omega’s face remains carefully carved blank. It isn’t bad necessarily, but blank is definitely unsettling. Blank can be fortified walls and shoved back feelings. Despite his efforts to hide it, Jungkook can tell something stresses Yoongi, and if it weren’t obvious but his body language, it’s revealed by the bitter hint to the Omega’s scent. 

And Jungkook can definitely tell by when he tries to move back, and Yoongi clutches onto the Alpha’s arm still wrapped around him. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to resume leaning against the elder, knowing his weight is a comfort to Yoongi. For good measure, he holds Yoongi against him snugly, hugging him close, and Yoongi takes in a deep breath, eyes closed. 

Okay, something’s definitely wrong. 

“Uh,” Yoongi draws out in a low mumble, ducking his head. The Omega releases his arm and wiggles out of his grasp, standing just in front of him with his fingers intertwined in front of himself, key card clutched in his palm. “Sorry. Let’s go to the room now.”

With no room for questions, Yoongi turns and heads for the elevators, leaving Jungkook to follow behind him in a concerned daze. Luckily, when Yoongi presses the up button for the elevator, the doors slide open right away, revealing it to be empty. 

Yoongi shuffles to one side of the elevator, back pressed to the wall and face down. Jungkook worries his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure if Yoongi wants him nearby, or completely on the other side of the elevator. After pressing the button for their floor, Jungkook decides to settle for a healthy medium, standing smack dab in the middle of the elevator, not too close, but not too far, in case Yoongi does want the comfort of his presence. Jungkook prefers to be closer, himself. 

The doors slide close, leaving the two of them in tense silence. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak—he sees Yoongi glance up—but no words escape. The Alpha stands there, mouth gaping like a fish, knowing what he wants to ask but reluctant of the answer. 

Yoongi notices his internal debate. “Jungkook-ah?”

“We can switch rooms if you want, hyung,” Jungkook blurts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

Because maybe Yoongi-hyung is stressed about him—about sharing a room with an Alpha who obviously harbors feelings for him, and even if Yoongi might like him back, it doesn’t mean he’s okay with rooming together. Jungkook feels slightly ashamed and guilty, as if he’s crossed a boundary. He can’t help out feel like he pressured the elder. 

Yoongi stares at him blankly, reading the guilt in his expression, and straightens up from where he was slouched against the wall. 

“No,” the Omega rushes out assuringly, waving his hands in front of him. “No, no, Kook-ah. It’s not your fault. I—I want to sleep with you—wait, no, I mean—I—”

A grin slowly breaks out across Jungkook’s face, openly staring in adoration as Yoongi stutters, struggling to express himself. A blush creeps its way up the elder’s neck, staining his cheeks a lovely, pink hue. Yoongi’s still sputtering out stilted words, gaze darting all over the place.

“I’m—you know what I mean—sleeping in the same room, I-I’m fine with it—”

Jungkook turns his body to face him, taking a step forward, and Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut. 

“That’s good, hyung. I want to sleep with you, too,” Jungkook teases in a low, sultry voice, moving in closer. 

The Omega is practically simmering, face on fire and his lips pressed into a thin line, biting back any noise that might leave him as he peers up through his lashes to meet Jungkook’s intense gaze. The Alpha doesn’t stop until he can feel Yoongi’s warmth, a hand reaching out to graze the elder’s. Yoongi jolts and presses back further against the elevator wall, head ducking. It lands against Jungkook’s shoulder. 

Jungkook turns his head to the side, his nose brushing against Yoongi’s hair, breathing in his sweet, honeyed scent. Their pinkies dance together, until Yoongi intertwines their fingers, palm against palm; their other hands follow, folding together in a loose grip as well. The elder shudders, stepping away from the wall slightly so he leans against Jungkook instead. 

The air is heavy with unspoken emotion. Jungkook’s heart is beating heavy in his chest, and he’s certain the other can feel it pounding. For years, Jungkook has thought of a thousand and one ways to confess to Yoongi, but when all is said and done, he thinks it doesn’t matter, so long as Yoongi loves him in return. 

He could tell him—right here, right now—in this elevator. 

“Yoongi-yah,” Jungkook murmurs, rubbing his thumbs into the backs of the Omega’s hands. The elder hums, not scolding him for the lack of honorifics. Yoongi never really scolds him—lets him get away with a lot. It’s something Jungkook relishes in, how soft Yoongi is on him.

Just as the Jungkook gathers the courage to open his mouth and utter those three words, the elevator dings, loud enough that Yoongi-hyung startles and jerks away. Jungkook’s heart aches, but it’s good the Omega moved away from him, because just then the doors slide open to reveal a single woman and a family of four, waiting in the hallway. 

Though it doesn’t help much with avoiding suspicion. They must’ve been giving off a crazy amount of pheromones, judging by the way the woman and the parents of the family send the pair reproachful glances. Yoongi clears his throat and ducks out of the elevator. Jungkook wastes no time to follow him. 

Their room is easy enough to find. According to the room numbers, behind the doors to their left and straight across them are their members. Jungkook watches Yoongi unlock the door, not ignorant of the way the elder’s fingers tremble. Once the room is open, Yoongi almost sprints inside, face planting on the bed closest to the door. Jungkook grins as the Omega groans, relaxing into the mattress. 

“I thought I’d never see a bed again,” Yoongi sighs into the comforter, tucking his arms under his chest. It reminds Jungkook of a cat. 

The maknae moves to his own bed, placing his backpack on the edge of it. They all didn’t pack much more than a single back containing pajamas and toiletries. Their stylists provided the clothes for their interview and tomorrow as well for the mini shoot. 

“Hyung, you can have the shower first,” Jungkook pipes up, going through his backpack to pull out his sleep clothes and toothbrush. 

The elder doesn’t respond, still face down on the bed. Concern fills the younger when he remembers that he never did discover what was bothering Yoongi-hyung. Crossing the room, he sits at the edge of Yoongi’s bed, near the elder’s head. The Alpha wracks his brains for what to do, and a light bulb goes off. 

With a smile on his face, he starts to hum. Yoongi’s silent—the kind of silence that shows he’s listening—until he recognizes the tune and snorts against the mattress. Jungkook continues to hum happily, before switching to actual words.

I’ve wanted to be both comforting and touching,” he sings, and immediately a quiet chuckle leaves Yoongi. 

The elder raises his head, gummy smile in display. It makes Jungkook’s smile widen in response. 

“Shut up,” Yoongi laughs, finally rising from the mattress to drag his own bag towards himself.

Jungkook watches him, chewing his lip. “Hyung...do you want to talk about it?”

The small smile slips off Yoongi’s face. Jungkook inwardly winces, but he has to try. 

“I’m fine, Kook, really. I’m just tired,” Yoongi mumbles, digging through his bag and pulling out a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt. 

Jungkook purses his lips, not believing him in the slightest. But he won’t push the elder, knowing it might just backfire and make Yoongi more upset. 

“Okay, hyung.” Jungkook smiles reassuringly when Yoongi peers at him unsurely. 

“Okay,” Yoongi parrots, making his way to the bathroom. Just as he’s about to cross the threshold, he pauses. “Kook?”

“Yes, hyung,” Jungkook answers immediately, his eyes not having moved from the elder. 

“Can—” Yoongi starts, cutting himself off with a deep breath. “Tonight, can...” The Omega trails off, and with his back facing the younger, Jungkook can see the way his shoulders raise defensively. 

“Hyung?”

Yoongi seems to snap out of some thought, glancing over his shoulder to the Alpha. “No, nevermind,” he smiles shortly. 

The Omega disappears into the bathroom, the door closing shut behind him quickly. Jungkook stares blankly at the wood, wondering what on Earth just happened, what Yoongi-hyung wanted to ask him. But Yoongi said nevermind, and Jungkook won’t push him.  

Well. That’s that. For now.

There’s a bitter tint to the air, trailing after Yoongi. Jungkook can’t help but feel unsettled. 

 


 

When it happens, Jungkook wishes he would’ve pushed Yoongi-hyung more—helped the elder break down those walls trapping him.  

In the middle of the night—sometime past 1:00 am—the smell wakes him, sour and rancid, like spoilt milk—stressed and anxious—so much so that Jungkook feels himself stiffen, eyes shooting open to rove over the dark room, searching the shadows for a threat as his pulse quickens, mind screaming danger, danger, danger.

Instead, his eyes land on the curled up form of Yoongi-hyung, huddled under the blanket. From his own bed, he can see the way his hyung shudders, his distressed scent spiking sharply. Before Jungkook can fully process the situation, his feet are already hitting the floor, and he paces swiftly to Yoongi’s bed, not hesitating to slip under the covers. 

Jungkook curses himself; he should’ve seen this coming. 

It’s not a secret to any of the members that traveling is hard for Yoongi. The Omega doesn’t take as much pleasure in traveling as Taehyung or Namjoon, doesn’t get excited by new foods and people like Seokjin, doesn’t have a dedication to photographing memories like Jimin. Jungkook himself is happy as long as he’s with his hyungs, having fun and spending time together.

Whereas Yoongi is a homebody, through and through. Their dorm is his safe haven, sacred and home. A beacon in the sea of Seoul, of the world, that he can call his own. The further they travel from it, the longer they’re away from it, the more stressed Yoongi-hyung becomes—all clamped shut lips and internalized anxiety. 

Perhaps his anxiety is enhanced by his status. Jungkook’s not quite sure. Yoongi is Bangtan’s only Omega, and he never really speaks about the aspects of his status—how it affects him, how it plays a role in his day to day life. But the origin of Yoongi’s anxiety has nothing to do with status. 

A startled, wheezing gasp escapes Yoongi as Jungkook slides forward, his chest pressing tightly against the elder’s back. An arm slips under the curve of his hyung’s neck, curling back around to cradle Yoongi’s head, fingers threading through the tired but still somehow soft twines of his hair. The other arm hooks itself around the Omega’s waist, palm flat against his stomach, grounding and secure. 

Immediately, Yoongi attempts to worm out of his grasp, his scent flaring, but Jungkook doesn’t let go, wondering how his hyung is still able to put up pretenses and fronts when he’s so obviously hurting. He doesn’t let go because he knows how Yoongi craves the affection, how he needs it but has convinced himself that admitting it is weak and shameful. They all know. It’s cute usually, watching Yoongi-hyung complain about skinship while actively reaching for a hand to hold. 

Right now, though, it’s anything but cute—the way Yoongi trembles, so desperately wanting to sink into his hold, but fighting against the impulse. It’s heartbreaking, is what it is. Jungkook’s own instincts are nearly choking him, his Alpha urging him to comfort, to protect.

So Jungkook leans forward, nose brushing lightly against the shell of his hyung’s ear, an open invitation for the comfort he’s almost desperate to provide. Yoongi freezes, one hand wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s wrist over his stomach, the other fisting the sheets in front of him. 

“Jungkook-ah.” Yoongi’s voice is crackly and dry, an unspoken emotion heavy in his tone.

Jungkook presses closer to his back, nuzzling his ear delicately, fighting against the urge to press his nose down further until he receives the Omega’s permission. 

“Let me hold you,” Jungkook murmurs, intentionally keeping his voice low and soothing. Let me assure you that you’re not alone. “Breathe with me, Yoongi-yah.”

Inhaling dramatically and deeply, Jungkook paces his breaths, feeling Yoongi follow along shakily. His own scent wraps around them snugly, like air dried sheets, cool and refreshing, infused with the essence of wind and a hint of something coyingly sweet. 

A tense moment passes. Yoongi’s breathing is calmed, but the Omega is still stiff in his arms. Jungkook relaxes himself as much as possible with his Alpha still stressing over the sour scent tainting the air. Then, as sudden as a light switch, Yoongi collapses against him, body limp in a way that almost scares the younger. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook whispers, brows furrowing. Disdain at not being able to read the Omega’s face makes him bite his lip. 

The only response is a light sniffle. Without further words, Jungkook gathers Yoongi in his arms, tugging him closer. The other’s scent has softened, no longer foul with panic, but still bitter with unhappiness. Now that Jungkook’s fully awake, his own panic at Yoongi’s anxiety attack no longer clouding his mind, he realizes the intimacy of their position; he can almost feel every thread of hair between his fingers, he can feel the rise and fall of Yoongi’s every breath under his palm, he can feel the curve of the elder’s spine against his front; his nose hovers just over the Omega’s scent gland. 

It’s Jungkook’s turn to freeze, heart thudding painfully in his chest, his gut squeezing, filled with rambuctious butterflies. A spike of nerves and anticipation shoot down his spine, and he knows he’s soothing Yoongi because he wants to ease the elder’s pain, not because he expects anything in return, and though it won’t be his first time scenting the elder (as they all do occassionally), a not so repressed part of himself absolutely preens at the thought of Yoongi’s scent intertwined with his own. 

In an unspoken question, Jungkook raises his head to run his nose along the elder’s jaw, pausing when the tip of it reaches Yoongi’s hairline. Using the arm cradling the Omega’s head, he tilts Yoongi’s face in his direction, leaning over him slightly to make eye contact. It takes everything in him to hold back from kissing Yoongi’s nose when it crinkles at being forced to look at the younger. 

“Can I?” Jungkook whispers. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line, the soft corners of his mouth quirking adorably, and the Alpha can’t quite tear his gaze away. 

“Why do you have to say it out loud?” Yoongi grumbles, lips pursing. Jungkook’s heart squeezes—he loves the elder’s pouty way of speaking. “Just do it. It’s fine.”

Jungkook smiles at him brightly, and Yoongi turns away, frowning with the lightest shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Can you turn to face me, hyung?”

Jungkook grins widely when Yoongi spits out, “No, I absolutely cannot.” The tips of the elder’s ear is warm under his nose when he returns to it. Yoongi huffs and tenses again, but this time because he cranes his neck, obviously displaying his scent gland, offering it willingly to the younger. 

“Get on with it,” he mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “...Please.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly jumps to the back of his throat. “Yeah, hyung.”

Before he can think about it too long, Jungkook moves forward, rubbing his cheek along the side of Yoongi’s face and jaw. An almost imperceptible sigh slips past Yoongi’s lips. The sour, distressed scent lessens significantly, disappearing all together when Jungkook finally presses his nose against the Omega’s scent gland. 

The pleased hum that leaves Yoongi, added to their mingling scents, has giddiness rapidly filling the Alpha. Yoongi leans back against him, tilting his chin up, and Jungkook eagerly runs his cheek over the exposed skin. Yoongi-hyung is putty in his arms, eyes fallen closed and breathing out an occasional sigh. The Omega’s scent sweetens, his happiness and comfort palatable on Jungkook’s tongue, and the fact that Yoongi feels so secure with him almost brings tears to his eyes. 

Pride at successfully comforting Yoongi nearly makes him shout for joy. Jungkook mentally high fives himself. 

It’s captivating—enthralling and almost mind-numbing—scenting Yoongi-hyung. Jungkook feels himself settling, content so potent it makes his eyelids flutter with sleepiness. Now that he’s started, he doesn’t think he can stop. Jungkook gently pulls Yoongi’s shoulder, easing the Omega to lay on his back so he can lean over the elder, rubbing his face along the other side of his neck.

Yoongi moves easily, stretching out his arms and tilting his chin make to make it easier for Jungkook. The Alpha’s fingers knead the soft skin of his stomach tenderly—open and exposed and trusting. Jungkook’s heart is almost bursting, happiness taking form as a low, steady rumbling deep within his chest that he’s unaware of.

After a few moments, a soft chuckle has Jungkook glancing up, finding Yoongi-hyung watching him with fond eyes. 

“...What?” Jungkook wonders, brow arching in confusion. 

Yoongi smiles at him. “You’re purring.”

“Oh,” the Alpha blinks in response, before shrugging casually, though his cheeks dust lightly. “I’m happy, that’s all.”

Yoongi’s chest rises and falls with a sigh. The Omega closes his eyes and turns on his other side, his breath brushing Jungkook’s clavicle as he speaks. “It’s nice. I like it. Makes me feel...safe. You make me feel safe, Kook-ah,” he mumbles sleepily. 

Jungkook wants to scream, but he doubts Yoongi-hyung will appreciate that. Instead, he wraps his arms around Yoongi and squeezes him tightly, purr increasing in volume to show his satisfaction. The elder laughs softly, placing an arm around the Alpha to pat his back.   

“Thank you, Kookie,” Yoongi mumbles, tucking his face under the younger’s chin, rubbing his own cheek along the Alpha’s neck, nosing his scent gland, and Jungkook almost dies for the upteenth time that night. Their scents are completely merged now—so much to a point that they’ll probably receive questions from the others tomorrow. 

It’s not as of scenting Yoongi is rare. But being scented by Yoongi isn’t something the Omega initiates very often. Jungkook would be lying if he said that didn’t fill him with smug satisfaction, his Alpha not the only one pleased with the others noticing their scents on each other’s skin. 

“Of course, hyung,” Jungkook whispers, not trusting his voice. “Can we...please talk about it? I want to be here for you, Yoongi-yah.”

Yoongi curls closer, resting his head dangerously close to Jungkook’s pounding heart, and the younger makes sure to keep up a steady purr in his chest. It doesn’t take much effort—much like scenting his hyung, he doesn’t think he can stop now that he’s started. 

“There wasn’t a definite reason. I was just anxious. I felt stupid, so that’s why...I didn’t want to talk,” Yoongi mumbles. “And...the bed sheets smelt too stale, and I was just overwhelmed.”

Jungkook’s hum of understanding vibrates in his throat as he continues to run his nose along the elder’s jaw. He doesn’t tell the elder he shouldn’t feel that way—he knows it won’t help. Instead, he continues to scent Yoongi, cuddling and nuzzling him sweetly.

It is harder to feel comfortable in a foreign place when even the beds—where they’re at their most vulnerable, unconscious—smell unfamiliar. As an Omega, Yoongi-hyung is more sensitive to scents. No wonder the hotel sheets added to his anxiety. Jungkook himself has a hard time getting comfortable some nights.

Tonight, can...

Oh. Jungkook curses himself inwardly. Yoongi must’ve been trying to ask to share a bed.

“But,” Yoongi adds on drowsily, voice low and languid in half-sleep, his dialect emerging lightly. “‘t smells like you now. You ‘n me.”

Jungkook and Yoongi, Yoongi and Jungkook

“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook swallows, licking his lips.

The urge to press kiss after kiss against his hyung’s soft, pale skin is so strong, it’s painful to repress it. Yoongi’s warm breath puffs evenly against his neck, his body completely relaxed. Jungkook settles for cradling the sleeping Omega closer, burying his nose into his hair. 

“You and me,” he repeats in a dazed whisper. 

Later, when he’s sure Yoongi is fast asleep, if he brushes the lightest of kisses on the Omega’s jaw, no one’s the wiser.

 


 

It’s early when Jungkook wakes, light just barely beginning to stream through the hotel windows, filling the room with a dusty, grey hue. The bedsheets somehow still feel cool when he runs his feet over them, and a sharp spike of pleasure runs through him. He’s so comfortable

The scent is why, he knows. All around him, he smells himself and Yoongi-hyung. It’s the best possible combination, if he says so himself. And he does.

With a sigh, Jungkook slides from under the covers, toes curling into the carpet when they hit the floor. The bathroom light makes him hiss, squinting his eyes as he stumbles blindly to the toilet. When he returns back to the room, he stands by the edge of the bed, smiling.

Yoongi-hyung’s scooted over in his absence, searching for warmth and finding it in Jungkook’s spot. The Omega is curled up, hands tucked between his knees, his lips slightly parted as small huffs of air escape him. 

The longer he stares at Yoongi, the more entranced he becomes, until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed with parted lips and intense eyes. It’s all over his face now, Jungkook knows—what Tae and Jimin have dubbed as his Yoongi expression. He couldn’t take his eyes off the Omega if he tried. 

The peaceful aura emanating from Yoongi-hyung is beautiful. He’s beautiful. From his hair falling into his face, to his lashes against his soft, supple cheek, the roundness of his face. His cute, button nose and his pink lips. God, his lips. 

Jungkook reaches out a thumb and lightly traces Yoongi’s bottom lip, pressing it to soft corner of his mouth—the cutest thing about Yoongi in his opinion. Jungkook wants to wake him with a thousand kisses, his own, personal Sleeping Beauty, wants to lay on top of him and bury his face in the elder’s neck.

Jungkook wants so much, and it hurts.

He wants to stay with Yoongi. He wants Yoongi to be his; his Omega, his mate. He wants to be Yoongi’s Alpha. Jungkook wants them to be together, with their pack, with Bangtan—the seven of them, forever. 

It engulfs him slowly, warm and thick and rich like Italian hot chocolate—comforting and slightly hypnotizing like Yoongi’s honeyed scent—the realization that he wants to stay this way for as long as possible. For the rest of his life and beyond that, hopefully.

Overcome with emotion, a familiar sensation prickles behind his eyes. Jungkook blinks it back. The last thing he wants is to wake Yoongi because he’s crying about how much he loves the Omega and his other hyungs. 

The room is cold, and nothing sounds better than getting back under the blanket with Yoongi, so Jungkook runs a hand over the elder’s shoulder, pausing to massage the nape of his neck. Yoongi hums, stirring with wakefulness. 

“Hyung, move over. That’s my spot,” Jungkook whispers when he’s sure Yoongi is mostly awake. 

A small sound leaves the Omega, grumbly and low. “No,” he mumbles, curling up tighter. 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook laughs, pushing the elder’s shoulders gently, accenting each word with a light shove. “Scoot. Over.” 

“No,” Yoongi whines, drawn out and louder, his brows furrowing and nose scrunched. The Omega’s eyes stay closed, intent on resuming his sleep. 

Jungkook licks his lips, chewing on the bottom one before he decides, fuck it. Brushing the messy hair back from Yoongi’s forehead, he leans forward, kissing the exposed skin gently.

“Jagi,” he murmurs, sliding his nose along the Omega’s cheek, fighting against the urge to clear his throat at the audible hitch in Yoongi’s breathing. “Jagi-yah, move over for me, hm?”

The silence is defeaning. Jungkook doubts either of them are even breathing, but he doesn’t regret it—always having wanted, craved to call Yoongi that. Maybe he’s pushing it. He knows Yoongi feels something for him in return, but maybe the petname was too much—

Without further argument, Yoongi moves back, rolling over onto his other side, curling up with his back facing the Alpha. Jungkook blinks, watching the elder. The tips of his ears—

Oh. Oh, how lovely. 

Jungkook wastes no time slipping under the covers, cheeks nearly aching from the force of his smile as he keeps moving forward until his chest meets Yoongi’s back, hooking his chin over the Omega’s shoulder. A strangled noise leaves the elder as he hunches further into himself, hands coming up to hide his face.

A giddy, high-pitched giggle slips past Jungkook’s lips. Yoongi groans, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever teasing the Alpha will make him suffer. 

“Go away,” the Omega grumbles quietly, shoving his shoulder back in a weak attempt to get the younger off him. 

Jungkook only clings onto him tighter, smirk audible in his tone. “Are you not feeling well, hyung? You look a little flushed.”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi mutters, turning on his stomach and gripping onto the sheets in front of him to aid him in his escape from the younger, but Jungkook follows, laying half on top of the Omega, wrapping his arms around the elder’s waist. 

“Oh, they just got darker,” Jungkook sings, nuzzling his nose between the elder’s shoulder blades. He breaks into laughter when Yoongi begins aggressively wiggling around, trying to lodge the Alpha from his back. 

“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of asking what you mean,” Yoongi wheezes, exhaustion creeping up on him, but not ceasing his tossing and turning. 

Jungkook hums with upturned lips, completely unbothered by the Omega’s constant movement, still comfortably strewn across the elder’s back. “What, you ask? Well, since you sound so desperate to know, I’ll tell you.”

Yoongi huffs, muttering out, “It’s too early for this.”

The bed creaks as Jungkook shifts, rising up to his knees. Two hands land on either side of the Omega’s head, and Yoongi frowns, question on the tip of his tongue, but it dies once he turns his head to glance back, meeting Jungkook’s gaze.

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoongi stutters at the intense, dark warmth in Jungkook’s eyes.

Part of him wants to kick the younger off him and run away, but that look has him pinned. Jungkook hovers above him on all fours, while Yoongi remains on his stomach. The position is...suggestive. The other half of him focuses on that. It has his cheeks flushing darkly, and Yoongi jerks his head back around, shoving his face into the pillow. 

“You’re blushing, Jagi,” the Alpha murmurs, watching him amusedly. Yoongi’s shoulders tense at the pet name and teasing tone. Jungkook leans down, letting his nose rub against the back of the elder’s neck, and Yoongi lets out a shuddering breath, tension filling him from head to toe. 

“What’re you thinking of, hm?”

The Omega shakes his head quickly, hands coming up to wrap around Jungkook’s wrists on either side of him, needing to hold onto something, or he’ll end up giving into the instinct screaming at him. A sudden, uncontrollable wave of his scent fills the room, tooth-achingly sweet and—and—

Jungkook gasps, his lips falling open, tongue roving over the roof of his mouth as he inhales deeply. “Oh, Yoongi-yah,” he breathes. “What’re you thinking of?”

“If you don’t get off me right now,” Yoongi whispers, entire frame trembling as he lays stiff as a board under the younger. “I might really do something stupid.”

Curiosity and desire creep down Jungkook’s spine. His hands curl into fists beside Yoongi; his own scent thickening in response to Yoongi, who his body (and mind) considers his Omega. The Alpha in Jungkook is absolutely ecstatic—with Yoongi under him, flushed cheeks and heavy breaths, his back stiff and convex, like he’s trying not to arch it. The urge to lower down and grind against the elder makes his thighs tense. 

Fuck. Fuck

This isn’t how he wanted to go about this. 

In order to avoid breathing in more of Yoongi’s tantalizing scent, Jungkook takes in very shallow breaths. “Yoongi,” he speak quietly, but firmly. “I want you to roll over onto your side, okay?”

Just the thought of separating from the Omega has restlessness filling him, so Jungkook adds on hesitantly, “I’m gonna scent you again, alright? I need to, please.”

Underneath him, Yoongi takes in a calming breath. A quiet noise leaves the Omega’s throat as he gets what’s probably a lungful of the Alpha’s scent. It makes Jungkook feel a certain way—that Yoongi is so affected by him. Jungkook shifts his weight on his knees, and Yoongi’s hips sway as the mattress dips down along with the movement. Jungkook swallows, tearing his eyes away from the soft curve of the elder’s ass.

“Okay,” Yoongi responds just as quietly. “That’s okay. That’s more than okay. Let’s do that.”  

After one more inhale, Yoongi shifts, turning onto his side with his lips pressed together. The elder glances up to him almost shyly. A pleased purr rumbles in Jungkook’s chest, and Yoongi averts his gaze, the corners of his curl up in a coy smile.

It’s wonderful how Yoongi listens to him. It’s wonderful not because Jungkook has the desire to control Yoongi, but because it means Yoongi trusts him, enough that he doesn’t doubt Jungkook’s suggestions, requests, and questions; he doesn’t doubt that Jungkook knows what he’s doing. The Omega takes them seriously, takes him seriously. 

Jungkook drops down beside Yoongi, giggling when the Omega grumbles at the way the movement jostles him. There’s no time for embarrassment—he won’t allow it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, but he knows Yoongi won’t be feeling very happy with himself. 

Wasting no time, Jungkook wraps his arms around Yoongi and rolls back, pulling the elder to lay on top of him. Yoongi’s gone silent, lips pressed together and avoiding Jungkook’s eyes. The expression on his face is blank, but Jungkook sees the wariness in the elder’s eyes.

“Sorry, hyung,” Jungkook apologizes sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

Yoongi’s eyes snap up to meet his, defiant and frustrated. “You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who—It shouldn’t have been—I’m.” The Omega purses his lips shut, head falling down to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” 

Jungkook hums, deciding not to press further. “Hey, hyung, can you scent me more?”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Yoongi at the blunt question. “You don’t have a subtle bone in your body, do you Kook?”

Before responding, Jungkook leans up to nuzzle the elder’s neck, going straight for his scent gland. “I’m surprised it took you this long to notice,” he quips.

“I noticed,” Yoongi whispers.

Something about his tone makes Jungkook pause. He knows Yoongi-hyung can struggle with showing his emotions, but the Omega is actually quite expressive and open—more than he gives himself credit for. Yoongi can be just as blunt as Jungkook himself, but his voice right now sounded weirdly vague. 

Distant, again. 

A brush of hair against his chin distracts him from the vibe that came from Yoongi, as the Omega leans forward to press his face to Jungkook’s neck. He pauses there for a few seconds before slowly starting to nuzzle against the Alpha’s scent gland. 

An appreciative purr sounds deep in Jungkook’s chest, and he lets his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes in bliss. It feels so nice, being scented, and it feels even better being scented by Yoongi, the Omega’s fingers massaging at his shouldersWrapping an arm around the elder, Jungkook rubs a hand up and down his spine languidly, nearly falling asleep with the pleasant warmth of Yoongi on him and the Omega’s scent around him. 

That’s when he feels it. Tiny, hesitant vibrations under his fingertips. Jungkook’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t cease his back rubbing, not wanting to hinder the small purr Yoongi has going.

Wow, Jungkook thinks, bubbly in his chest. I’m in love

They speak no more, pressed together with noses brushing necks and hands massaging skin. They stay that way for an immeasurable amount of time, until the sun creeps over the horizon and one of the managers comes knocking to gather them for the schedule that day.

When Yoongi rises from the bed, Jungkook immediately misses his touch. The elder shuffles around the room, throwing on no more than a hoodie and slides, since they’ll be changed later. Jungkook watches him, still strewn on the bed. From the short distance, he can smell Yoongi—can smell himself on the Omega—and it makes the corners of his lips pull up in a happy smile.  

“Yah,” Yoongi complains when he finishes up and sees Jungkook still lying down. “Get up, brat.”

Jungkook pouts, rising to a sitting position. “You’re supposed to say something clever, like,” he lowers his voice in a poor imitation of Yoongi, “‘Enjoying the view, Kook-ah?’”

Yoongi wrinkles his nose, sitting on the edge of Jungkook’s unused bed. “Why would I do that?”

“So I can say yes,” Jungkook grins, eyes roving over the elder purposefully slow, before he sends a laviscious wink his way. 

Yoongi reaches behind him for a pillow and chucks it at the Alpha. It doesn’t hit him very hard, but Jungkook falls back against the bed, laughing loud and unrestrained. He hears Yoongi snort, head shifting on the bed as he watches the elder rise and make his way to the door. Just before Yoongi exits the room, Jungkook catches the smile on his face.

Jungkook squeezes the pillow clutched to his chest, breaking into another round of gleeful, absolutely love struck giggles. 

 


 

The others are suspiciously silent during break time. Jungkook happily fills his paper plate with fruit and pretzels, completely ignoring the five gazes staring daggers into his back. He feels the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air, but no one’s dared to speak up first. In the back of his mind, he wonders who it’ll be. This might be kind of fun, really. 

As soon as Jungkook turns away from the snack table after sticking a cup of noodles in a small microwave set up for them, the eyes on him dart away. Looking around, he sees Yoongi immediately, curled up and napping in an armchair, not enough room for Jungkook to sit beside him. 

A pout purses the maknae’s lips.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Seokjin already take up one long couch, so Jungkook steps over to join Namjoon and Hobi-hyung, plopping down beside the latter heavily. Hoseok lets out a small ‘oof’ glancing at Jungkook curiously before turning back to his own food. 

Eventually, light chatter resumes amongst the members, though Jungkook doesn’t miss the way they still glance at him occasionally. Taehyung and Jimin, especially. They whisper to each other before sending rather obvious looks his way. Once he catches them staring at him for the fourth time, he grins widely, holding up a V-sign beside his face. 

They smile back at him, of course, though Taehyung arches a brow and Jimin shakes his head ruefully afterwards. Neither of them ask anything. They’re probably waiting to ambush him later. 

It’s kind of funny. It’s not like his feelings for Yoongi-hyung are a huge mystery. Everyone knows. There’s really not a need to tiptoe around it. Jungkook supposes they don’t want to be too direct, with Yoongi sleeping right there. 

As if the Omega doesn’t know that Jungkook’s infatuated with him. Well. It’s true that Jungkook hasn’t exactly said it out loud, either. No one wants to be the first one to pop the bubble, probably. 

The microwave beeps behind them, so Jungkook places his plate on the table between the two long couches. Bouncing up to his feet, he strides to retrieve his cup noodles, stirring them with disposable chopsticks before bringing them up to his nose, sniffing. Yup, they’re good. 

No one pays him any attention, a debate about...water(?) breaking out between Hoseok and Seokjin. Jimin and Taehyung add in useless, little quips here and there, backing up Seokjin with grins on their faces. Namjoon takes Hoseok’s side, offering textbook reasoning—complete with complex wording and elaborate hand gestures—as for why...water is not wet.

Jungkook snorts, pausing in his path to the couch. They’re getting heated up now, voices rising with intensity and laughter. The maknae watches them fondly before making his way to check on Yoongi. 

The Omega’s still sleeping peacefully, despite the noise; he’s curled up in an awkward angle, yet sleeps as sound as a baby, his face slack and lips parted. Yoongi-hyung makes the thin-cushioned armchair look impossibly comfortable.

Jungkook smiles wistfully, not hesitating to pull out his phone and record a quick video of the elder. When he’s satisfied with the video, he switches to camera mode, snapping several shots from various angles. Pleased, Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, ramen in one hand and phone in the other, scrolling through the photos he just took with a smile on his face. 

It’s only once his phone is tucked back in his pocket and he’s happily slurping up noodles that he realizes the others have quieted down again. 

Jungkook looks around with wide eyes, noodles still hanging from his mouth. 

“What?” The maknae asks through a mouthful of ramen, glancing between the others, who watch him with a mix of exasperation, smugness, and confusion.

A throat clears directly across from him. Jungkook turns and sees Taehyung stretch his legs out in front of himself before crossing them, one arm thrown over the back of the couch. It’s a confident, almost cocky position—the effect enhanced by the smirk on the other Alpha’s face. 

Instantly, the maknae becomes wary. In the very back of his mind, his Alpha bristles slightly. 

Jungkook loves Taehyung, he really does. The elder is the one who clung to him in their debut days, no matter how standoffish or shy Jungkook was. Taehyung helped break him from that shell. The elder Alpha is the most fun to play video games with, and he gives the best cuddles. They work well together, and they get along amazingly. Taehyung is his best friend. 

But no one brings out Jungkook’s competitiveness quite like Taehyung. The only times they’ve ever clashed were incidents that had been spurred on by their statuses; teasing gone too far, small bets and dares escalated. Jungkook’s good at getting to his hyungs—especially Seokjin and Jimin—but no one’s really capable of getting to him; Jungkook’s great at remaining unbothered. 

But sometimes Taehyung just knows how to get under his skin, even if he’s not trying.

It’s not like Jungkook is threatened by him. No way. Taehyung is a total sweetheart. But his Alpha—well—his Alpha obviously feels differently, judging by how riled up the elder can make him. His Alpha doesn’t see Taehyung as a threat, per se—he could easily snap the elder in half with just his thighs—but his Alpha definitely sees Tae as an equal competitor, probably. Especially when it comes to...certain things. Situations. People. 

It’s not like Jungkook can help it. 

So when Taehyung just watches him with that knowing smirk, Jungkook’s immediately on edge. The other is probably going to try and get a rise out of him, and if his tactics include what Jungkook suspects, then the maknae won’t be very good at hiding his reaction.  

When it comes to Yoongi, Jungkook tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, and Taehyung is extremely protective of his fellow Daegu boy, so he doesn’t mind giving Jungkook a hard time. It must give Taehyung a boost of confidence, too, that Yoongi tends to defend him whenever they have a spat, rather than take Jungkook’s side. 

Taehyung is all sweet words and puppy love with the Omega. Yoongi doesn’t know what Jungkook knows. Tae can be just as much of a little shit as him, and Jungkook will always resent the fact that Taehyung gets away with it more. That sly bastard.

Just who is the maknae here? 

“You should send me the video,” Taehyung speaks up suddenly, glancing at Yoongi with a small smile before meeting Jungkook’s gaze steadily. “Hyung is so cute when he’s sleeping. I want a picture for myself.”

The others sit back quietly, probably curious and eager to see how the conversation plays out. His hyungs can be so cruel. Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, slurping up his mouthful of noodles before crinkling his nose in distaste, raising a brow at Taehyung.

“Why would you want a video of Yoongi-hyung sleeping? That’s creepy,” Jungkook sends him a bothered, slightly disgusted look. “Weirdo.”

Taehyung pouts at him, while Jimin and Seokjin show varying levels of exasperation, the younger rolling his eyes and the eldest scoffing. Namjoon only smiles in amusement as Hoseok laughs loudly in his ear, throwing an arm over the maknae’s shoulders.

“Kookie, you’re the one who took the video.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees easily, continuing on pointedly, sending a closed lip grin to Taehyung. “To make fun of hyung. Not to stare at him like a pervert.”

“Oh, you wanna see a pervert?” Taehyung fires back, scooting forward in his seat, fingers curling over the edge of the couch cushion as he rises to his feet. Jungkook watches warily, back stiffening, lips increasingly curling down as Taehyung turns to stride over to Yoongi-hyung. 

“Oi,” Jimin warns, catching the back of Taehyung’s shirt. “Leave Yoongi-hyung alone.”

Seokjin—ever the lover of stirring shit up—leans back in his seat, tilting his head. “Actually our break’s nearly over. Yoongi should probably wake up,” he offers Taehyung with a smile. “Can you go ahead and do that?”

Jungkook makes a face at the eldest, clicking his tongue, and Seokjin sticks his tongue out in response. Whatever. It’s not like he owns Yoongi, and the others are perfectly capable of waking the Omega without it meaning anything. Even the makeup noonas wake Yoongi often. It’s not a big deal. 

The cup of noodles in Jungkook’s hands is pleasantly warm, soothing. Jungkook shrugs, unbothered, and resumes eating, watching from the corner of his eye (read: unabashedly staring) as Taehyung crouches beside Yoongi-hyung and pats the elder’s shoulders. It’s strange; both of Taehyung’s hands move to massage the nape of the Omega’s neck, wrists purposefully brushing against—

Okay. That’s kind of a big deal. 

Taehyung’s scent billows, soon to emanate from Yoongi-hyung’s skin, slowly covering Jungkook’s own. A small mumble leaves Yoongi as he rouses slightly, smacking his lips and furrowing his brows, but making no move to stop Taehyung from not-so-subtly scenting him, the Alpha’s wrists still obviously rubbing against his neck. 

The maknae’s face falls eerily flat. 

Jimin facepalms, hard enough that the slap resounds slightly in the break room. Hoseok and Seokjin both giggle—though Hobi-hyung’s laughter is more nervous whereas Seokjin’s is straight up devious. Namjoon’s silent, but in the back of his mind, Jungkook knows their leader will interfere the moment things become too troublesome. 

As if it isn’t extremely troublesome now. The idea of Yoongi being scented by the others doesn’t bother him in the slightest; they’re pack, after all. They scent each other. But Taehyung’s scenting Yoongi-hyung with the clear intent of covering up Jungkook’s scent, and that—that gets to him. 

“What’re you doing?” Jungkook deadpans, chopsticks held tightly between his fingers. 

Taehyung sends him an unimpressed look. “Seems like you got nice and cozy with Yoongi-hyung. It’s my turn now.” 

With that, Taehyung turns back to Yoongi, practically wringing his hands around the elder’s neck. The Omega groans, blinking one bleary eye open to frown at Tae. The Alpha sends him a boxy grin, offering him a chipper, “Welcome back!”

Yoongi blinks once, before the situation at hand seems to dawn at him. Jungkook’s not sure how it makes him feel when Yoongi-hyung looks down at the arms nuzzling him and then immediately glances in the maknae’s direction, something like bewilderment, disappointment, and apology in his gaze. 

“Tae? Why are you choking me?” Yoongi frowns, bringing up a fist to rub at his eye. 

“Because I want to,” Taehyung shoots back, finally pulling his hands away from Yoongi’s neck. “Also: break time is almost over.”

The elder hums, sliding up to a sitting position. Yoongi must notice the gazes or the tension in the room (tension that really only radiates off Jungkook; the others are more relaxed—Taehyung in particular, is very smug), because he freezes, eyes jumping amongst them. 

“Uh,” he deadpans, eyes wide. “What’d I miss?”

Jungkook knows they all look to him. Setting down his (sadly) unfinished ramen gently on the table, he leans his elbows on his knees, rubbing his palms together with a blank expression. There’s a war waging inside him—one side fighting to remain indifferent and maintain his pride, and the other ready to pounce on Yoongi and fix his smell, to stake a claim on the Omega right here for the others to see. 

Jimin elbows Taehyung—who now sits by his side again—sharply in the side, muttering out, “Great job, idiot. What happened to being scared of his muscles?”

“Character development,” Taehyung fires back, shoving a handful of grapes into his mouth. Hoseok laughs loudly, clapping his hands. Seokjin snorts, throwing his head back and crossing legs. In a second, he’s serious again, the contrast between the few seconds so strong that it’s comical. 

“So did y’all fuck or...?” The Pack Alpha asks bluntly.

Bubble officially popped. 

Yoongi lets out a startled noise, face red and absolutely mortified in embarrassment. The others gasp out laughs, and as soon as the question leaves the eldest, Jungkook is chucking whatever he can grab—one of his chopsticks, still wet with soup—at the Pack Alpha. The maknae quickly reaches for the other chopstick.

Seokjin squeals theatrically, covering his face. “Not the money maker!”

“What the fuck, hyung?” Jungkook actually growls out. He really didn’t expect the topic to be breached so vulgarly. It has Seokjin, as well as the other four freezing. 

“Well, what are we supposed to think?” Seokjin defends, throwing his hands up. “You two waltz in, and it’s like you guys completely switched scents.”

Jungkook crosses his arms, glaring as if he’s scolding them. “Yoongi wasn’t feeling good last night, so I scented him to help comfort him,” he provides. 

They all deflate at that, looking slightly guilty. No one is unaware of the Omega’s anxiety, and Yoongi doesn’t mind Jungkook informing them, understanding that it’s important for them to know. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath, before adding on with a shit eating grin, “And then we scented each other this morning for funsies.”

The room goes silent enough to hear a pen drop, and then suddenly, all at once, the others break out into loud cries as if they’ve solved a difficult mystery. 

“Oh shit—”

“You fuckin’ brat—”

“Jungkook, I swear—”

“I knew it, they fucked.”

“Yah! I—We didn’t—” Yoongi tries weakly, but he gives up quickly, burying his face in his hands. Jungkook turns to him, feigning shock.

“Oh,” the Alpha says as if he’s just seen Yoongi. “You’re awake.”

A slow smirk spreads on Jungkook’s lips. Don’t do it, hoe, Yoongi’s expression reads. 

Bet, Jungkook responds silently. Out loud, he croons obnoxiously sweet:

“Sleep well, Jagi-yah?

The others become even more rambunctious, shaking each other around and yelling, and Jungkook is tempted to smack them all, but his Alpha is pleased, settling down a bit at sort of, kind of making it clear Yoongi is his. Even though everyone already knows that. Stupid instincts. This is all Taehyung’s fault. 

Yoongi’s staring at him like he can read the younger’s mind, like Jungkook’s soul is laid out, bare and open for him to see. It kind of is; Jungkook’s really bad at hiding his jealousy, his aching crave to possess. 

Jungkook expects Yoongi to ignore him, or scold him even; expects eye rolls and huffing sighs, and a muttered, “Stop that.” Yoongi doesn’t really play along with his teasing quips, just takes them with a blush and his trademark tsundere reactions.

The last thing he expects is what Yoongi does: play along. The Omega ducks his head, hands sliding to tuck between his thighs cutely, before the elder glances up at him, lashes fluttering—coy and smoldering

“Mhm,” Yoongi drawls in a low hum, staring the Alpha down as he continues in a breathy, silky voice. “Yeobo.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, shocked and heart struck, pulse instantly beating a mile a minute.  Maybe Yoongi is just getting back at him for using a cheesy pet name, but fuck—fuck, he’s—

The background noise of the others (“I knew it, they fucked!”) fades to a distant hum, as Jungkook holds Yoongi’s gaze intensely. The war inside him resumes with a fervor, his Alpha making millions of ideas and thoughts pop into his head. At the very forefront: Yoongi’s sitting too damn far away, still smelling like Taehyung. 

Jungkook barely moves, sitting stock still with fiery eyes. “Come here.” 

Yoongi—his Yoongi—rises without hesitation, and the next thing Jungkook knows, his nose is tucked against the elder’s scent gland, his lap suddenly full of the Omega. A low rumble sounds in his chest, possessive and irritated, and really, it’s Taehyung’s fault for setting him off like this. Stupid, fucking instincts. Yoongi shushes the maknae gently, running a hand through his hair.  

“Oh my god,” Hoseok warbles next to them, jumping up to move away from the pheromones pouring off Jungkook, every bit of the Alpha they know Jungkook is, his scent screaming mine, mine, mine

“So, uh, are they finally official?” Taehyung asks, pointing a finger at the pair, pouting when Jimin smacks his shoulder, while Seokjin cackles evilly.

Another growl leaves the maknae, louder this time. Jungkook’s so going to get Seokjin back—Taehyung, too—after throughly re-scenting Yoongi, of course. He’s already thinking of all the tricks he can pull on them.  

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Namjoon pleads, trying to rein everyone back in. He turns to the others, specifically Taehyung and Seokjin. “Please, for the love of everything good, stop talking.” 

Jungkook huffs out a sigh against Yoongi’s neck, and the elder resumes petting his hair lightly. Yoongi mumbles into his ear, “I’m sure there’s a certain way you wanted to approach this, but...”

The younger stills, eyes wide and heart skipping as Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“I’m yours. You know I’m yours, and I know it, too. We all do. For...a long time, Kook-ah. And...you’re mine, too,” Yoongi whispers shyly, letting his head fall against Jungkook’s shoulder. 

It’s hard to find a word to describe what feeling settles deep into Jungkook’s bones. Happiness, love, excitement, pleasure. Warmth, bubbles, butterflies. So many things crash into him at once, hearing those words from Yoongi-hyung, he’s rendered speechless. 

Words fail him. All Jungkook can do is wrap his arms around the elder, hugging him intimately in a way he’s never been able to before. The joy he feels sweetens a thousand times over when Yoongi returns his embrace, carding his fingers through Jungkook’s hair still. 

Jungkook wants to tell Yoongi how in love he is with him, but he thinks he should wait until they’re in private, at least for the first time they actually put their feelings into words. After that, Jungkook’s totally gonna flaunt it—their relationship. Yoongi. His hyungs don’t call him shameless for no reason. 

The others seems to sense a shift in the air, and suddenly everyone’s mood lifts—relief and happiness for the couple, as well as the sense of love and joy radiating off them, makes it hard to be anything but excited. 

Soon, their manager strolls in, telling them it’s time to go. He doesn’t even blink at Yoongi and Jungkook, completely unfazed by the new development. It really was just a matter of time. 

(Jungkook kind of wishes the catalyst hadn’t been his meddlesome hyungs and his jealousy, though. But he has Yoongi, and that’s what matters.)

When they’re shuffling out of the break room, Yoongi reaches for Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers and gripping securely. Jungkook grins down at him brightly, eyes and nose crinkling, and a burst of confidence makes him lean down to press a kiss to the Omega’s nose. 

Yoongi giggles—actually fucking giggles—and it’s the cutest thing Jungkook has ever been blessed to hear. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, unable to hold it back any longer. “I love you.”

There’s a moment where Yoongi simply gazes up at him, expression raw and honest, and Jungkook knows. He knows. But it’s still extremely nice when Yoongi sends him a gummy smile and says:

“I love you.”

It’s sweet. Heartachingly sweet, toothachingly sweet, full fucking body achingly sweet. To be in love with Yoongi, and for Yoongi to love him in return. Jungkook grips Yoongi’s hand tightly, sending a clear message: he’s not letting go anytime soon. By the way the Omega squeezes back, he knows the sentiment is shared.

Jungkook and Yoongi, Yoongi and Jungkook

Seokjin pats his eyes, sniffing exaggeratedly. (He’s actually extremely emotional, but hides it well.) “We need to throw a party as soon as we get home.”

The others enthusiastically agree, and it warms Jungkook’s heart, knowing his hyungs, his family, his pack loves and support Yoongi and him so wholeheartedly. 

As they make their way to the car, Hoseok strolls past them, throwing his arm over Jimin’s shoulder, and singing out loudly. “You are the cause of my euphoria~

And that’s what it is—Yoongi’s hand in his, those sweet words still ringing in Jungkook’s ears, the smile that just won’t fall off his face, his heart still fluttering, and his stomach twisting. 

Absolute euphoria. 

 


 

Seokjin slumps against his seat with a heavy sigh, gazing out of the airplane window, imagining his life as a tragic film. Beside him, Hoseok grins brightly, laughter bubbly in his voice, and it totally ruins the effect. 

“Can’t avoid that talk now, huh Jin?” Hoseok laughs pleasantly at the elder’s suffering expression. 

“Why Jungkook? Why not Jimin or Taehyung, or you? Fuck, why not even myself?” Seokjin moans, pressing his hands to his face, absolutely dreading when he’ll have to pull the youngest aside and talk. Stupid Pack Alpha obligations. Why is courting an Omega even a big deal? 

(But it’s Yoongi, and no matter who his little, tsundere dongsaeng ended up with, it’d be a big deal.)

Hoseok snorts, tossing his thousand dollar designer pillow in his hands. Seokjin watches the smiling flower go up and down, it’s grin taunting him. The airplane shakes with a small burst of turbulence, and Seokjin bites his lip in agitation. 

“It was established very early on that it’d be Kookie. You know how he is. We literally just saw how he is,” Hoseok muses, lips quirking in amusement. “Why is talking to him so bad? It’s for his and Yoongi-hyung’s benefit.”

“I’ll try to talk to him, but he’ll question everything I say until suddenly I’m the one being lectured, and then the brat will have the audacity to pat my head and say ‘Good talk, son’ before leaving me sitting by myself, absolutely bewildered,” Seokjin rants, speaking rapidly with emotion, his head and arms moving with his words in a way that clearly indicates that he’s just being dramatic. 

Hoseok stares blandly at him, blinking slowly. “Wow,” he deadpans. “You’ve clearly thought this through.”

“For years,” Seokjin groans, rubbing his temples with two fingers. The Alpha throws himself dramatically against Hoseok’s shoulder.

“You’ve prepared to talk to him for years?” Hoseok asks disbelievingly. 

“Like you said,” Seokjin’s voice suddenly softens, something like a smile painting his tone wistfully. “It was Kookie from the very beginning. Yoongi-yah couldn’t’ve stood a chance.”

Hoseok pats his flower plushie against the elder’s head. “You’re happy for them.”

“Of course,” Seokjin sounds almost offended. “If I had to go through one more year of painfully obvious pining, I’d lose it. There goes a source of entertainment, though. Those two were better than a drama. What do I do now?”

“Now we just watch them be happy, I suppose,” Hoseok smiles, shaking his flower pillow in a little dance. 

Silence falls between the two. Seokjin turn his head to look behind them. In the seats diagonal to his own, Yoongi and Jungkook sit. They lean against each other, Yoongi’s head on Jungkook’s shoulder and Jungkook's head resting atop Yoongi’s. They both sleep with their mouths hanging open, hands intertwined between them. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees, smiling curling the edges of his lips. “I suppose.”

Notes:

not as beta’ed as it could be, so sorry for any mistakes hbdhdb

Chapter 2: II

Chapter Text

It burns. 

The gazes, the fleeting touches, the words, the pet names. 

His voice, his eyes, his fluid body when he makes heady eye contact in the mirror during dance practice. His smile, his laugh, his humor, his personality, his passion, his determination, his competitiveness, his intensity, his scent—like cotton candy and a fresh sea breeze.

Everything that makes up Jeon Jungkook. Everything Yoongi could ever want, what he increasingly feels he needs.

It’s ironic, how the running theme for Yoongi throughout their concepts is fire. Burning passion for his piano and his music—his insatiable desire to create, to leave his print on the world. Yoongi’s stated before how he’s greedy to produce, that fire in him always making him crave for more. Fire is Yoongi’s image, his essence, and his driving force. 

It’s Jungkook, too. That’s what’s so ironic about it, not only fictionally for their concept, but in reality.

Jungkook is fire, and Yoongi is the moth drawn to the flame. 

The Alpha digs under his skin, leaving hot magma dragging through his veins in his wake. Yoongi prickles, itches, raises in goosebumps in effort to repress the—the longing. Emotionally, physically—every way he could ever want, he wants

Status never really played a role in Yoongi’s life before. He’d presented as an Omega, and not long after, he’d debuted in BTS. It was business from then on. The company provided him with suppressants, quelling his heats, and other than the occasional hormone changes, his status didn’t affect him too much.

And Jungkook—he’d been nothing but a cute kid that Yoongi was fond of. Of course he was soft on their maknae. There were no feelings, though, not when the boy was still a child, and still not when he’d presented as an Alpha at sixteen. 

He’d always known about the younger’s crush on him, but that’s all it was. A crush. The Omega might’ve been too soft-hearted—he didn’t see the harm in letting Jungkook have his crush, and it would feel to cruel to shut him down. Yoongi never reciprocated the young Alpha’s interests. Jungkook would grow out of it in time, Yoongi assured himself.

But then Jungkook grew

From boy to man. Short and lanky to tall and well-built. The maknae’s never lost his mischievous, childish streak—he’s silly and loves to joke around and play pranks on his hyungs—but his newfound maturity definitely showed. A lot of times, Yoongi found himself and the other hyungs goofing around while the maknae sat back and watched, fond and exasperated. There was a weird kind of reversal going on. 

And Jungkook didn’t grow out of his feelings; the Alpha grew into them. 

Yoongi knows Jungkook’s not an idiot. He’s not a kid anymore. Yoongi knows that the maknae is perfectly capable of understanding his emotions and deciding how to act on them. If Jungkook decided to pursue him, that’s Jungkook’s decision. (And Yoongi wasn’t exactly disapproving.)

Time passed, and Jungkook’s feelings for him seemed to have only gotten stronger as they’ve grown, as people and as a group. They seemed less like a puppy crush and more like...

Well, act on them he does, that’s for sure. 

The subtly possessive touches—a chin on the Omega’s shoulder, an arm across the back of his chair when they eat, a hand sliding across his shoulders if Yoongi so happens to be stood next to him. The way his scent unconsciously flares slightly when he’s beside Yoongi, as if subtly trying to scent him, to ward off others. 

The teasing—no. The flirting. Does Jungkook think he’s being subtle? He’s not, he’s really not. It didn’t take Yoongi very long to catch onto his intentions. (He’s surprised Seokjin has yet to confront the younger Alpha.)

The maknae loves to try and speak to Yoongi informally, as much as he can get away with; he’ll sing to Yoongi, serenading him with a finger pointed in his direction; he’ll say and do anything to get Yoongi to blush just so he can comment on and tease Yoongi about said blush; he’ll stare at the elder, licking and biting his lips, and on some occasions, send a sly wink Yoongi’s way.

The stares. God, Jungkook has some intense eyes on him. Yoongi’s never been very influenced by his Omega when it comes to relationships, never really thought about finding himself a mate, too focused on his career for even a fling. But those eyes. Fuck if they didn’t make him want to flop onto his back, expose himself completely, and have Jungkook show him just what kind of an Alpha he’s become. 

That’s—that’s not the point. Yoongi’s not driven purely by physical attraction. But now that Jungkook’s an adult, the physical attraction had opened a door Yoongi had never thought of entering. He’d always known about Jungkook’s crush, but... 

Maybe now it would be okay if he reciprocated.

Because he does.

It’s not hard to love Jungkook. He’s... got it all, really. He’s passionate and hardworking. He’s amazingly talented, but still extremely humble. A jack of all trades, their Golden Maknae. Looking back at how Jungkook came into BTS, and how he is now—the pride gushing in Yoongi’s chest is nearly enough to choke him. 

Jungkook’s like those American candies, the Sour Patch Kids. A little shit one second, but then an absolute sweetheart in the next. Sure, Jungkook loves to tease them and mock them (he’s a brat, through and through), but he’s genuinely kind and very supportive. He’d never do or say anything to hurt any of his hyungs. 

The Alpha always reminds him to take care of himself, pulls Yoongi away from overworking with ease, offering to take him out for lamb skewers (though Yoongi’s the one paying) or bubble tea or anything, as long as Yoongi eats and sleeps some afterwards. 

(Yoongi thinks Jungkook has a weird thing for filming him sleeping. More than once, he’s woken up with a camera in his face, Jungkook staring down at him behind the lense.)

It’s not really a secret that Yoongi is a sucker for cute things. Dogs (any cute, furry animal, really), plushies, kids, Kumamon, and, well, somewhere in that list... Jungkook. The Alpha is cute—he’s always been cute. Before, it was simply a cuteness that made Yoongi smile fondly, fingers ruffling the younger’s hair. Now, when he sees Jungkook’s wide, crinkly-eyed, bunny grin, it’s his heart jumping in his chest, internally squealing like a lovesick school girl: 

Oh my god, you’re so fucking cute, please let me hold your hand and pet your hair and smother you with kisses. 

Nothing can make his heart seize quite like Jungkook’s laugh—his unfiltered, loud, almost cackle-y laugh. Jungkook smiles and Yoongi’s lips instantly turn up in response, bubbly in his chest. The maknae’s happiness is infectious. The elder can’t help but want to bask in his presence. 

Jungkook reminds Yoongi that he’s young, that he still has a life to live outside of music and dance practice and his studio. Playing with the maknae, making jokes and play fighting, it’s one of the simpler things in life—one of the things that Yoongi loves so much. 

Falling for Jungkook wasn’t hard at all. 

Yoongi’s feelings may be new, may not be as deep as Jungkook’s—the Alpha has years’ worth of time to his advantage—but Yoongi’s getting there. Very quickly.

And then the hotel happens. 

Anxiety is a fickle thing. It lurks, always in the back of his mind, rearing its ugly head whenever it has the opportunity. Sometimes, Yoongi thinks he’s fine, thinks ‘Yeah, I can do this,’ and then it surfaces, as if reminding him: no, he can’t. It never leaves him, never lets him be

There hadn't been a trigger, that day. There was no explanation other than that he was anxious—on edge and irritated, his chest surging with the craving, the ache to run and hide. To lay burrowed under the covers of his bed, close his eyes, and pretend for the briefest of moments that he doesn’t exist. That he has no obligations, or expectations, or pressure, or fear. 

What he needed was a good cry, honestly, but he’s made it a rule for himself that the only three times he can be so vulnerable are:

  1. At night, locked in his bedroom, with a pillow pressed to his face to muffle his sobs. 
  2. In the shower, with the bathroom door locked and the running water veiling the echo of his sniffs against the tiles.
  3. When he’s alone—locked—in his studio, the soundproof walls allowing him to really let it all out, allowing him to weep and hope the wracking of his sobs is enough to tear the ugly monster inside of his head out. 

Perhaps if he had his own hotel room, he’d let himself cry, but that in itself is a rare thing. He’d expected to share a room with Seokjin, as they practically always do. His only hyung, as well as their Pack Alpha, Seokjin’s one of the two people who’ve seen all sides of the Omega. (The other is Namjoon.) The elder’s presence has always been comforting, and Yoongi was sure once he was in bed, with Seokjin’s soft scent reaching his nose, he’d feel like he fits in his own skin again. At least, he’d hoped. 

But then an arm had wrapped around him from behind, and all Yoongi could register was Jungkook’s voice speaking in his ear. 

Jungkook.

In a weird rush of relief and yearning, Yoongi’s need to cry only increased, but he swallowed it down, smothering it quickly before it tainted his scent with distress. 

Whereas Seokjin’s presence is soothing in the way that encourages Yoongi to stay strong—stay positive—Jungkook’s presence is soothing in a way that makes Yoongi want to cry even more, to let himself be vulnerable, because it’d be okay.

Because Jungkook would be there to hold him. Because Jungkook will protect him, even from his own mind; because Jungkook loves him in a way different than Seokjin; because it’s Jungkook who always tells him he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong; because really, at this point, Jungkook—isn’t Jungkook his? 

His person. His Alpha. 

Yes, Yoongi had never really payed much attention to his Omega, the instincts hardwired into him by his status, yet with a simple touch from Jungkook, it all comes rushing to the surface, overwhelming and gut wrenching. 

Despite being the only Omega in the group, Yoongi rarely lets the others coddle him, because to him, it’s his responsibility to take care of them. Any burden of his can be dealt with on his own, because his members’ needs are his priority. (Maybe he’s more in touch with his Omega than he thought.) 

It’s that way with Jungkook, too. Yoongi would walk through hell and high water for Jungkook, and that’s without the addition of his romantic love for the younger. But add those feelings, and then everything muddles.

Everything becomes confusing and contrasting. Yoongi rarely lets the members take care of him—doesn’t like them worrying for him or going out of their way for him—but once Jungkook is beside him, all that resolve goes straight down the toilet.

Because if it’s Jungkook—if it’s his... his Alpha, then... he wants Jungkook to take care of him.

Yoongi wants Jungkook to hold him, he wants Jungkook to pet his hair and tell him sweet words; he wants Jungkook to sing him a lullaby and to fall asleep with his head on Jungkook’s chest; he wants the Alpha’s scent wrapped around him like a safety blanket; he wants Jungkook to wipe away his tears and smile that bunny smile at him, and show him memes and cute dog videos to make him feel better. 

Yoongi wants to be soft with Jungkook—be soft, and sweet, and good for him. Everything in him yearns for Jungkook, needy and clingy in a way he’s never experienced before. It’s his Omega, he knows, but a large part feels like him, too. That’s just the effect Jungkook has on him. 

In every way he could ever want, he wants. 

At same time, he’s scared. The last thing he wants is to be a burden. In that case, if he shared a hotel room with Jungkook, he didn’t think he’d be able to push back his emotions, but he didn’t want to freak out the Alpha. It hurt, how much he just wanted to hug Jungkook and be held and reassured that he’s okay, that he’s safe, that he’s not the terrible things inside his head, that he’s loved and appreciated. 

Jungkook was suspicious, the Omega knew. Yoongi thought he’d be able to play it off well, but it’s been established that Jungkook simply taps—just needs to breathe on his walls, and they come crumbling down. 

It was only natural—in the elevator—for Yoongi to reach for Jungkook’s hands, to intertwine their fingers and let himself lean against the younger. There was no way he could’ve ever pushed Jungkook away; he didn’t have the strength nor the desire to do so. 

It did cheer him up, in the hotel room, when Jungkook didn’t pressure him and simply sang out the tune of Magic Shop—something that’s become a sort of inside joke between the two of them, but genuinely comforts Yoongi when Jungkook sings it to him. In the spur of the moment, he’d tried to ask Jungkook if they could, well... cuddle that night, but... he didn’t have the courage, after all. 

It sunk him down even lower; he’d stared down at the shower floor, water cascading down the hair framing his face, and he couldn’t help but despise his cowardice. 

How could he have been so scared? It was Jungkook

Frustration at himself made his stomach ache, reigniting his nerves, and when it was past midnight, Yoongi couldn’t tamper it, couldn’t snuff it out or shove it down anymore. Exhausted and hurting, he just wanted to be held, to be comforted. The bed sheets smelt stale, cold and unfamiliar, and it only heightened the sharp loneliness set achingly deep into his bones.

Jungkook’s scent lingered in the room, close yet so far away, and Yoongi was left blinking rapidly in an attempt to quell his emotions. He wanted to rise from his bed and dive into the Alpha’s. 

Jungkook, he wanted Jungkook. 

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook, Jung

A gasp escaped him when a warm chest pressed to his back, arms cradling him close, fingers intertwined in his hair and pressed firmly against his stomach. 

Let me hold you,” Jungkook had whispered. 

Please,” Yoongi had wanted to say, but he couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. “Don’t let go.” 

That night, Yoongi felt safer in Jungkook’s arms than he’d ever felt before. The Alpha hugging him close, massaging his head, rubbing his back, their scents intermingled, the faintest pressure against Yoongi’s jaw that he swears he dreamt—it was bliss.

It was pure bliss, and Yoongi had never been so in love. It couldn’t get sweeter than that. 

The next morning, the jostling of the bed as Jungkook went to use the bathroom roused Yoongi, and in his half asleep stupor, all he could register was the missing warmth of his Alpha, so he’d moved to where Jungkook’s scent was most fresh. 

When Jungkook addressed him with that petname, Yoongi swears his heart almost jumped up his throat. The Omega had been reduced to a pile of mush; Jungkook could’ve asked him to jump out the window or streak the streets naked, and Yoongi would do it without hesitation, would do anything if Jungkook sent him a sweet ‘Jagi-yah’ first. 

In his flustered reaction, Yoongi had ended up on his stomach, butterflies jackhammering away at his insides with the weight of Jungkook pressed along his back. Jungkook teases, and Yoongi burns. When he looked back to find the Alpha hovering above him, staring down with fire in his eyes—fuck, it took everything he had to keep his hips against the mattress, to not shift up onto his knees, arch his back, and present.

It’s been years of constant affection from the younger—courting, practically—and since Yoongi reciprocates his love, his biology has latched onto Jungkook with a possessive, definite grip. Even though they aren’t officially together, to Yoongi’s Omega, Jungkook is his Alpha.

The scent Jungkook was unawarely emitting lit up all sorts of instinct in the elder, and he knew by the gasp Jungkook let out that the Alpha could smell his arousal—heady and sickly sweet. So badly, Yoongi’s hips wanted to rise, to show Jungkook how willing he was (is), to please his Alpha. 

Yoongi was thankful when Jungkook wound them down—prevented it from going further. They’d yet to define what they were, if they were a couple, and Yoongi didn’t want to do anything Jungkook would regret. 

(Yoongi himself could never regret anything when it comes to Jungkook. As soon as Jungkook says the word, Yoongi is ready to give him his all, be it emotionally and/or physically.)

Jungkook may be an adult now, but the maknae is still younger than him. Yoongi won’t so much as hold the Alpha’s hand without knowing for sure he has permission to. It may sound stupid, but Yoongi needed to know that they’re on the same page.

Misunderstanding is one of Yoongi’s greatest fears. He doesn’t like leaving things unresolved or unsaid. A lot of fans think he’s cold and cut off, but Yoongi thinks he’s actually pretty blunt when it comes to his emotions. 

He isn’t closed off; he’s cautious. 

Afterwards, embarrassment and self loathing ran through his veins at his powerful reaction to Jungkook, but Jungkook seemed to sense even that, not letting Yoongi dwell too long on the incident. 

It was nice, having Jungkook’s scent permeated so deeply into his skin all day as they worked, being able to smell himself on Jungkook from across whatever room they stood in. The members noticed, of course. 

(Namjoon had pulled him aside and asked if everything was okay. Yoongi assured him everything was more than perfect.) 

Yoongi loved it—loves the fresh smell of Jungkook. He’d never thought he’d be that type of Omega—the kind obsessed with their Alpha’s scent—but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been taking subtle, deep breaths at himself all day, basking in it. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to press his nose to Jungkook’s throat and live there, always breathing in the Alpha’s scent.

(He definitely has to steal some of the maknae’s hoodies once they return home.)

It felt right, his scent mixed with Jungkook’s. It felt amazing. All day he was walking on clouds, high off happiness and floating from the light feeling in his heart, so when Taehyung woke him up from his nap later that day, and Yoongi smelt the Alpha’s scent over Jungkook’s, it had him crashing back down to the Earth.  

Not that he doesn’t love Taehyung, or that he minds being scented by his pack member, of course not. But at the time, he wanted Jungkook’s scent, nothing but Jungkook. The tension was palpable in the air, in the maknae’s scent, and Yoongi knew Jungkook was irritated, which made his own distress stronger. 

(The maknae is nowhere near as scary as Jimin or Hoseok when he’s mad, but he definitely has his own brand of intimidating, especially since he’s so much more built than his hyungs. The maknae’s always been a brat—used to be extremely territorial and possessive when he first presented—and when he’s upset, he tends to revert to those Alpha traits, but he never lets them control him.)

Instead of snapping at Taehyung, Jungkook focused on Yoongi, on what upset him: the scent rubbed into the elder’s neck. The expression on Jungkook’s face, the aura the Alpha was giving off—daring and mischevious—had dread rushing through Yoongi. By the slow smirking sliding onto the younger’s face, Yoongi knew Jungkook could sense his hesitance, and it seemed to only spurr him on.

Yoongi could pen countless sonnets about  the fizzy butterflies he got when Jungkook first used a petname on him. They flooded him for a second time when Jungkook called out to him—“Sleep well, Jagi-yah?”—in front of the others. 

It was easier to tell himself that it was to get back at Jungkook, give him a taste of his own medicine, but after the spur of the moment, Yoongi knew that wasn’t his goal—when he’d played along, pulling out his own petname to taunt Jungkook with. 

It wasn’t that he’d wanted to pay the Alpha back for embarrassing him in front of their members. He’d just wanted to see Jungkook’s reaction—one that didn’t have anything to do with the others. Part of him wanted to get under the Alpha’s skin, tease and make him squirm as much as Jungkook does to him. 

Yoongi wanted Jungkook to feel just a hint of the fire that constantly courses through his own veins. 

There it was, in Jungkook’s eyes, intense and unwavering and burning. Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to deny Jungkook anything; found himself sat on the maknae’s lap with no hesitation, the Alpha growling possessively under him. 

Yoongi isn’t the best at expressing himself; he knows what he wants to say in his mind, but it lands clumsily on his tongue, and he trips over his words until he feels his face heat up and his tongue tangle even more. It’s so troublesome; most times it isn’t worth the energy, so he’ll just stay silent. But Yoongi knows there are times when he has to speak up. 

Like when there was a pouty, slightly distressed Alpha rubbing against his scent glands. 

It took a preparatory breath, but the words came surprisingly easy. At least, easier than they normally would have. Yoongi’s not good at saying cheesy things without immediately melting into a pile of fluff afterwards, but soothing Jungkook was second nature—something he’s done since their debut days.  

If that moment of slightly awkward vulnerability, if his little speech was what led to the confession, to Jungkook telling the elder he loves him, then Yoongi would do it over a thousand and one times. 

The maknae would never pressure him into anything, Yoongi knows. By the Alpha’s expression, he could tell that he knew how Yoongi feels, how much he’s loved in return. Jungkook hadn't asked him to say it back, hadn’t even looked like he expected it, he’d never pressure Yoongi that way. 

It’s one of the countless things Yoongi loves about him, so of course, Yoongi had to let him know. 

I love you.”

The look in Jungkook’s eyes was indescribable, the surge of emotion rising in Yoongi’s chest absolutely overwhelming. The Alpha squeezed his hand tightly, and Yoongi got the message loud and clear, not breaking eye contact for a second, not even when Hoseok provides all too relevant background music.

The two of them—they’ll be happy together for a long time.  

 


  

There’s rambunctious noise coming from the living room as Yoongi enters the dorm at sometime past 2:00 AM. Laughter, yelling, shoots and booms of a video game. It doesn’t faze him in the slightest; they all have a rather disjointed sleep schedule, due to long, busy rehearsals and extra practices, so it’s not rare to find more than one member awake past midnight. 

What is unusual is the smell wafting from the kitchen, as Jin-hyung usually refuses to do anything productive after he’s gone through his skincare routine and donned his face mask. It can’t be anyone else—Namjoon and Taehyung know better than to touch anything in the kitchen without supervision, Jungkook doesn’t usually bother, unless one of his hyungs asks for help, and Yoongi distinctly heard Jimin’s laugh echo down the hall from the living room. 

Shuffling towards the kitchen, Yoongi peers past the doorway, and sure enough, there’s Seokjin, leaning against the counter as something cooks on the stove, looking like he’s about ready to sink into the ground. The elder catches Yoongi’s gaze as the Omega pads into the kitchen, watching as Yoongi pauses by his side, stood in front of the stove to see what’s cooking.

“Your boyfriend’s a demon,” is the first thing Seokjin greets him with, arms crossed over his chest, bags under his eyes making him look three times his age.

Yoongi sends him a sideways glance before ducking his head. The label makes his heart jump, cheeks flushing a bit at the mention of Jungkook. Boyfriend, he whispers in awe internally. Ah, Jungkook is his boyfriend. It still feels so strange and new. 

“He’s not,” Yoongi defends, lips quirking up at Seokjin’s unimpressed expression. “He’s not a demon, he’s more like... a gremlin.” 

It prompts a bursting laugh from the Alpha, and Yoongi smiles in satisfaction. There was a trickle of genuine irritation in their Pack Alpha’s scent, and he’d hate for an issue to break out. 

“Well, then. Your boyfriend is a gremlin with demonic tendencies,” Seokjin elaborates, a tired, crooked grin spreading his lips. 

Sympathy courses through Yoongi. The Alpha has the most regular sleep schedule out of them all, so he must be tired, yet here he is, cooking presumably for Maknae and Co. Seokjin lets out another tired chuckle and rises up from the counter to reach for a fork.

“What’d he do?” Yoongi hums, beating him to it and grabbing the fork, stirring the noodles on the stove before Jin gets the chance to.

The Alpha slumps back against the counter with a sigh. “It’s partially my fault. I challenged him. We played Mario Kart this morning, loser has to do whatever the winner asks for the rest of the day.”

A scoff escapes Yoongi. The entire day he was in his studio, so who knows what Jungkook has made Seokjin do. “Can’t you ever play like normal people? Without bets or consequences?”

“I don’t think we’ll ever be able to play any game without instinctively thinking of punishments for the losers,” Seokjin muses, opening his mouth when Yoongi offers a twirl of noodles for him to try. 

That’s true. The life of an idol, Yoongi sighs, feeding the noodles to Seokjin. The elder nods at the taste, so Yoongi switches off the stove, walking over to the cabinet that holds their bowls.

“Well, didn’t the day technically end already?” Yoongi asks, voice muffled as he ruffles through the cabinets, standing on his toes to reach the bowls.

Seokjin groans lightly. “According to the gremlin, the day doesn’t end until he goes to bed. I don’t have the energy to fight him.”

Gasping theatrically, Yoongi lowers back down from the cabinet with four stacked bowls clutched to his chest. “Sweet Kookie would do something so cruel?”

The elder scowls at him. “He’s only sweet with you,” Seokjin grouses, reaching for the bowls. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Yoongi turns the bowls away from him. “I can do this, hyung. You can go to bed, okay?” 

Ignoring the elder’s halfhearted refusals, Yoongi places the bowls on the counter, serving noodles into one, making sure to load it up before holding it out to Seokjin. The Alpha stares blankly at the bowl. 

“Seriously, hyung,” Yoongi huffs, pushing the bowl into Seokjin’s hands. “Just eat and go to bed. I’ll talk to Kookie and get him to apologize for bullying his hyung.”

Seokjin tears up dramatically, nearly slamming the bowl on the counter to lunge at the Omega, tackling him and squeezing him tightly against his chest. 

“Hyung,” Yoongi wheezes, patting the elder’s back in an attempt to get the Alpha to stop smothering him. 

“You’re so sweet, Yoongi-chi,” Seokjin fake weeps, aggressively rubbing his cheek atop the younger’s hair. “Yah, if you’re not careful, I’ll fall for you!”

The only thing Yoongi can do is stand still and let the burst of affection from Seokjin run its course. Just then—

“Who’s falling for who?” Taehyung’s voice rings out boisterously as he bounds into the kitchen, and though Yoongi can’t see with his face pressed to Seokjin’s shoulder, he can tell Jimin is close behind him by the surprised laugh that breaks out of him. Why—

Seokjin lets out a loud yelp as a foot slams into his ass, stumbling forward against Yoongi, the two of them nearly toppling to the ground. The Alpha quickly scampers around Yoongi, and the way he tries to hide behind the significantly smaller man is comical, Jimin and Taehyung torn between giggling and gaping.

Jungkook raises a flat hand, ready to neck the eldest. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t touch royalty?” 

“But I am royalty,” Seokjin cries out, dismayed, gathering courage with Yoongi to shield him from the maknae’s fists. Still, his hands fly up off Yoongi’s shoulders, fingers spread and palms facing forward. “I’m King Mario Kart!”

“You were, until I dethroned you.” Jungkook throws his head back to cackle evilly.

A laugh breaks out of Yoongi, and the maknae’s attention turns towards him. The sharp expression aimed towards Jin-hyung on the youngest’s face softens, his eyes widening, and his entire posture deflating until he’s no more threatening than a bunny. 

“Yoongi, I missed you!” Jungkook’s eyes crinkle, sweet and endearing. Even his scent becomes softer, a bit more sugary, that fluffy cotton candy smell making Yoongi’s chest warm. It’s a complete, total switch.

“Demon,” Seokjin whispers from behind the Omega. 

It’s the breaking point, it seems, as Jimin clutches his stomach and bends over to lean on the table, wheezing out laughter, palm slapping the surface of the wood. His sleep deprived, loopy cackles are contagious; Taehyung quickly follows, giggling into his hand with a boxy grin, and Jungkook lets out a string of—ah, that laugh. Yoongi finds himself smiling fondly at the maknaes, while Seokjin chuckles along nervously behind him. 

The maknaes break into conversation, giggly and slurred from lack of sleep, and Yoongi honestly has no idea what they’re talking about. He reaches for Seokjin’s bowl.

“Quick, while they’re distracted,” he grins at the elder, pausing to grab a pair of chopsticks for him, sticking it into the noodles. 

Seokjin snatches the bowl, darting forward to peck the Omega’s forehead quickly. “Thanks, Yoongi-yah, you’re the best!”

With that, the eldest scurries from the kitchen, calling out behind him. “I’m gonna steal your mans if you’re not nicer to me!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes as Jimin and Taehyung ‘ooo’ loudly. 

“Yah!” Jungkook complains, making to follow their Pack Alpha. Seokjin squeals from the hallway, before the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut echoes through the dorm. 

Ah, hyung, you’re too lenient sometimes, Yoongi thinks. 

“Jungkookie-yah,” he sings sweetly, leaning back against the counter. Jungkook stops dead in his tracks to look back at him with wide eyes. The Omega spreads his arms.

“Aren’t you going to greet me?” Yoongi pouts, staring up at the younger through his lashes, flapping his hands in Jungkook’s direction.

“Uh—I—yes!” Jungkook grins, cheeks happily flushed, Seokjin completely forgotten. The Alpha crosses the kitchen in a few strides, wounding his arms around Yoongi’s waist and pulling him close.

Yoongi lets Jungkook rubs their cheeks together languidly, moving his hand up the younger’s shoulders to massage the nape of his neck. Jungkook purrs happily, ducking down to nose at the elder’s scent gland. Yoongi raises a hand and—

“Wha—” Jungkook jolts out of his cuddly daze as Yoongi smacks the back of his neck lightly. Leaning back to frown at the Omega, he pouts. “What was that for, hyung?”

Yoongi holds his gaze sternly. “It’s okay to have fun, but know where to draw the line. Jin was tired, and it was mean to make him stay up and cook.”

Jungkook gulps, looking increasingly more guilty as Yoongi continues on. Jimin and Taehyung quiet down at the table as well. 

“I know he’s very easygoing, but don’t forget he’s your hyung, as well as Pack Alpha. Don’t forget to have some respect,” Yoongi finishes firmly, before softening at the guilty expression on the maknae’s face. His hand rubs at the spot he smacked. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook presses his lips together sheepishly, averting his gaze, looking properly scolded. 

Yoongi rises on his toes to press a light kiss against the Alpha’s nose. Jungkook’s cheeks dust with a pretty shade of pink, eyes jumping back to meet the Omega’s, a hopeful look in his gaze. Yoongi smiles assuringly at him. 

“Apologize to hyung tomorrow, or... later today, I guess. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

Jungkook nods, leaning forward to rub their noses together. “I will, Yoongi-yah.”

Satisfied, Yoongi wraps his arms around the younger’s shoulders, hugging him close. Jungkook’s always so warm, whereas Yoongi tends to never stop feeling cold. The Alpha’s hands feel hot where they rubs circles into the small of his back, even through the material of his shirt. After a long day at the studio, it makes him sleepy, Jungkook holding him so snugly. 

“Eat,” Yoongi murmurs, giving Jungkook one last squeeze and leaning back. “I wanna go to bed already.”

Jungkook hums in affirmation, letting Yoongi move away to serve him. “Can you feed me?” The Alpha asks, moving to lean against Yoongi, wrapping around him in a back hug. 

“Oh! Can you feed me too, hyung?” Taehyung croons from behind them, chin resting on his fists as he puckers his lips obnoxiously. Yoongi jolts—almost forgetting the other two Alphas, due to their unusual silence—while Jungkook turns to glare at them. 

“Me too!” Jimin cajoles, voice thick with dialect as he slaps his thighs, an amusing looking grin on his face. “Come sit on my lap! Feed me, too!”

Yoongi snorts, serving Jimin and Taehyung as well, carrying their bowls to the table with Jungkook still clinging onto him. As soon as the bowls are placed down, Jungkook tightens his grip around the elder’s waist, hefting him up and walking away from the other two. Yoongi blinks, hanging in his arms as Jungkook makes his way back to the counter, wordlessly grabbing the last bowl when the Alpha stops in front of it. Then, Jungkook walks back to the table and sits, easily adjusting the Omega in his lap. 

“Well, that was fun to watch,” Jimin deadpans, but there’s a grin quirking his lips. Taehyung slurps up his noodles loudly next to him, nearly cross-eyed as he watches the noodles disappear into his mouth. 

“We actually have the day off tomorrow, and you’re gonna waste it sleeping. Eat, and then go to bed. Yoongi emphasizes, pointing a pair of chopsticks at the two across from them. The Omega turns on Jungkook’s lap and wraps an arm around the younger’s shoulders, twirling around some noodles and beginning to feed him.

Pleased, Jungkook’s chest rumbles against him, the younger eating happily. The Alpha wraps one arm around Yoongi’s waist and places his other hand on the elder’s thigh, kneading into it gently.

The kitchen grows silent, save for the sounds of slurping noodles and the occasional happy sigh. Yoongi watches them eat, his Omega content with not only taking care of his Alpha, but his pack mates as well. He’s always had a soft spot for the maknaes. 

As Pack Alpha, Seokjin feels the same, Yoongi knows. Why else would the elder cook without much complaint in the middle of the night? It’s such a warm feeling, watching them eat, watching them be happy and content. 

“Make sure you thank Jin-hyung later, as well,” Yoongi reminds them gently, watching fondly as they become increasingly sleepier with their stomachs full now. Taehyung is practically nodding off into his empty bowl. 

“Mhm,” Jimin nods, finishing up his own food; he gathers his dish, as well as Taehyung’s, washing them in the sink before helping Taehyung up, the younger leaning against him heavily. 

The two of them stumble out from the kitchen, letting out a quiet, “Goodnight, hyung, Kookie.”

Jungkook’s forehead slumps down against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep too,” he mumbles, blinking slowly. 

A burst of fondness has Yoongi petting his hair, feeling the soft strands under his fingers. Without further discussion, Yoongi rises from his lap, quickly clearing up the kitchen so it won’t have to be dealt with in the morning. Luckily Seokjin is the kind of person who puts things away right after he uses them and doesn’t let ingredients and dishes pile up.  

After packing away the leftovers, and shooting a quick text to Namjoon—who’s stayed a little longer in the studio with Hoseok—informing him that there’s food in the fridge, Yoongi walks over to Jungkook. The Alpha has rested his head down on the table, nearly asleep already. 

“Kook-ah, c’mon,” Yoongi shakes his shoulder. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath and raises his head, blinking owlishly at the elder. A slow grin splits his lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Jagi,” Jungkook simpers, staring up at him with unabashed, half-asleep adoration. A heavy flush builds its way up Yoongi’s chest, his lips pressed together as his heart skips. Fuck, that petname really makes him melt. The Alpha stands shakily, and Yoongi reaches for his hand. 

“And you are sleepy. Come on, bun,” he encourages, intertwining their fingers together and leading Jungkook from the kitchen, switching off the light behind them. 

 


 

“Okay,” the director’s voice calls out over the speaker, crackled and staticky. “That’s all for today. Well done.”

The seven members breathe out relieved sighs. Yoongi pulls his jacket off his shoulders, already sprinting for the changing room while letting out a little victory yell. The schedule wasn’t too difficult today—just a photo shoot—but it was long, and these clothes aren’t exactly the most comfortable. Yoongi’s ready to go home; he’s been ready for the past four hours or so, it seems. 

The first thing he does is change, throwing off the uncomfortable clothes for a soft, long sleeve tee, and a pair of sweats, finished by a pair of slides. There’s not much he can do about his hair until he can shower, so for now he settles for ruffling it vigorously, shaking through it with the entirely of his hand. 

As he walks, the left pocket of his sweatpants feels heavier than what he expects. Reaching inside, he pulls out his phone, as well as—Jungkook’s? Thinking back, Yoongi tries to recall if Jungkook slipped his phone in his pocket before they arrived for the shoot. If he remembers correctly, the younger’s own sweatpants don’t have pockets, so it’d make sense if he wanted Yoongi to hold onto it for him. 

Yoongi shrugs and slips Jungkook’s phone inside his pocket, alongside his own. 

After he’s handed over his shoot outfit to his stylist, he shuffles his way over to the make-up noonas, plopping down beside Hoseok, who’s already nearly done with getting his makeup removed. Namjoon is on his other side, eyes closed and halfway free of makeup. 

While his cheeks are being patted clean, Yoongi uses the opportunity to glance around the room. Seokjin is changing in the corner, while Jimin plays on his phone, somehow already barefaced and changed. Taehyung and Jungkook are missing. 

“They went to go help the managers carry in some food,” Hoseok provides helpfully as he stands from the makeup chair when he notices Yoongi glancing around in the mirror. The Omega raises a brow at the prospect of food, nodding his head slightly in response. 

On his other side, Namjoon looks up from his phone. “Hyung, I’m working on some lyrics. I’ll send them to you later. Tell me what you think?”

Yoongi hums, closing his eyes as the makeup artist wipes his eyes. “Okay, Joon. Text ‘em to me when you’re ready.”

Namjoon shoots him a dimply smile, his soothing, happy jasmine-green tea scent reaching Yoongi’s nose, and it makes the elder smile in return. Jimin comes up behind them, wrapping an arm around Namjoon to read over the Beta’s shoulder. Unfazed, Namjoon keeps tapping away on his phone. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Jimin croons, massaging at their leader’s hair. Namjoon hums appreciatively. 

Just then, Taehyung bursts into the room, a white box cradled carefully in his arms. Jungkook follows behind with a few staff members; they all carry a variety of snacks and drinks.

“I have cake,” Taehyung sings happily, placing the white box on a table in the room, using one arm to clear a spot.

Yoongi glances over in time to watch him fold the box open, a flash of red telling him there’s strawberries sitting on top. His mouth waters, but he knows they won’t be there for long, not with Taehyung around. 

Hoseok jumps up and joins Tae, Jimin following not far behind. Namjoon, too, gets up before long to nag his own slice. With the chair beside Yoongi free, Seokjin slumps down to be cleaned of his makeup. The sounds of the younger members eating and laughing makes them smile; Yoongi meets Seokjin’s gaze in the mirror and they grin. 

The makeup artist gets to work and the eye contact breaks. After a few minutes:

“Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin calls, and Yoongi raises his brow, glancing up to the elder through the mirror. “Come to my room when we get home. I need to talk to you, yeah?”

Surprise and curiosity makes Yoongi’s lips twitch. “Okay...” he agrees. 

There’s no further conversation after that. Seokjin closes his eyes, looking like he’s about to fall asleep in the chair, so Yoongi lets him be. The makeup artist finishes up soon enough, and Yoongi stands with a groan, stretching his arms out before moving to join the others. 

They’re gathered beside the cake box. Sure enough, all the strawberries are gone. Yoongi pouts in a small surge of disappointment. 

“Hyung!”

Yoongi looks up to find Jungkook beaming at him, holding up a single strawberry. He approaches the younger, lips curling up in a small smile. 

“I saved this for you, hyung,” Jungkook grins, looking extremely proud of himself. 

Yoongi chuckles. “That must’ve been a lot of trouble.”

Jungkook nods seriously, showing Yoongi his other hand. A pink arc of indents marks the base of his thumb. 

“Tae bit me.” Jungkook shoves his hand closer to the elder’s face. 

Without thinking, Yoongi reaches up to grab his wrist, pulling it closer to press a kiss against the mark. Once his lips make contact with the skin, he freezes, eyes widening. It’s still slightly damp.

“Hyung,” Jungkook breathes, his voice strained like he’s fighting back laughter.

Yoongi pulls back sharply, grimacing. Why’d he do that? Now his lips are lightly cool with—with—ugh!

Scrubbing furiously at his lips with his sleeve, Yoongi ducks his head, avoiding all possible eye contact with Jungkook, completely mortified that he’s just had an indirect kiss with Taehyung’s tongue. Heat floods his face; he can’t believe he just did that! 

(That’s not exactly the issue, he knows deep down. Yes, it’s still kind of gross, but he’s shared straws and spoons and chopsticks, etc. with all of his members before. This isn’t what embarrasses him, he knows. Deep down.)

Jungkook bursts into laughter, smile so large, his nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Yoongi complains, reaching out to grip at the front of Jungkook’s shirt, shaking him around a bit. “I basically just made out with Taehyung!”

It only makes Jungkook laugh harder, bending into the elder’s space. Their hair brushes together, and Yoongi almost goes cross-eyed, staring up at Jungkook in awe. Their foreheads bump before Jungkook lets his head rest against Yoongi’s, still breathing out light giggles. 

Jungkook opens his eyes, staring down at him with stars in his eyes; Yoongi is struck, heart picking up speed. The Alpha’s smile shrinks to something smaller—softer—reserved just for Yoongi.

“That was cute,” Jungkook whispers, like they’re exchanging secrets. “My hand feels all better now, Jagi. Thank you.”

Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed as Jungkook moves in closer, able to feel the warm, wet puff of the Alpha’s breath across his chin and against his—his lips

The first touch is so soft that it tingles, the skin of Yoongi’s lips sensitive to the sensation; it makes his toes curl in his shoes. He can feel Jungkook smiling against his lips before the Alpha purses his own and presses firmer. Yoongi’s hands slide up to cup his jaw, and he feels an arm wrap around him to settle on his shoulder blades.

They kiss—chaste and sweet. Jungkook exhales through his nose; the breath fans across Yoongi’s cheek to brush his ear, and the elder shudders, stomach spiking. Jungkook’s lips quirk in a grin. They pull apart, and Yoongi—despite the shyness and self-consciousness creeping up on him—allows himself to rise on his toes to press a kiss against the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, his cheek, and the line of his jaw...

Without speaking, Jungkook leans back and holds up the strawberry, eyes shining. Yoongi glances down to it, reaches out to grab the red fruit, but the younger makes a discontented noise, avoiding the Omega’s grasp. 

On any other day, Yoongi would ignore him and walk away. But the expectant, sparkling look in Jungkook’s eyes has him caught, and suddenly, avoiding Jungkook’s disappointment is worth the embarrassment. 

When Jungkook places the strawberry against his lips, Yoongi opens up without complaint, wrapping his lips around the fruit and biting into it. The sweet, yet still slightly tangy flavor is refreshing on his tongue; he closes his eyes, savoring it.

“Good boy,” Jungkook murmurs, brushing the tips of his fingers against the elder’s lips. 

Yoongi’s eyes shoot open to stare at Jungkook, filled with a mix of disbelief, embarrassment, and some indescribable emotion that makes his heart pound and gut clench. The Alpha only smirks down at him knowingly. It makes Yoongi’s skin prickle. 

“I’ll bite you, brat,” Yoongi warns, glancing to the fingers still centimeters from his face pointedly. 

Jungkook idly twirls the head of the strawberry in said fingers. “Hm, not in front of the others, baby.”

If life were a cartoon, Yoongi imagines maybe a dozen arrows shooting through his chest with lightning striking in the background, his face flooding red like a thermometer. Somewhere in his mind, he knows he has a good, witty comeback, but it’s lost—drowned out by verbal keysmashes and squealing yells. 

Jungkook used ‘supposed to be cringy, but actually very enjoyable petname, damn it Yoongi, get it together!’ It’s super effective!

“Y-You’re feeling bold today, huh?” Yoongi laughs nervously, ducking his head to avoid Jungkook’s smouldering gaze. It sounds weak to his own ears. Shit, the younger really doesn’t beat around the bush. 

Being called b—that is absolutely bad for his health. It’s just as bad (good?) as being called Jagi. Yoongi doesn’t have the strength to counterattack. His mind is reduced to mush. 

Jungkook doesn’t say much else, just grins that stupidly blinding grin of his, offering the rest of the strawberry to the Omega. Yoongi hesitates, fingers twitching against Jungkook’s front. 

“Say ahh,” Jungkook teases, blowing air past his closed lips to mimic an airplane engine. 

And what is Yoongi supposed to do? Say no? 

Yoongi parts his lips; Jungkook uses his thumb to press the strawberry into his mouth. The pad of his thumb slips against his inner lip, and Yoongi’s eyes flash. Opportunity strikes!

Surging forward, Yoongi takes Jungkook’s thumb into his mouth. The skin is slightly salty, his nail scrapes against the roof of his mouth, and it tickles in a weird way. In a weirdly... nice way. Huh. Jungkook lets out a sharp exhale, eyes growing wide and cheeks flushing. Yoongi feels himself grow smug in triumph. 

But, ah... What now? 

The glow of victory fades, and Yoongi’s left feeling a whole lot of mortified. He really needs to think this stuff through before he does it—scratch that, he just needs to stop doing in general. Yoongi holds—mirrors—Jungkook’s surprised, frozen expression. 

Yoongi’s brow furrows, and not knowing anything else to do in this situation, he uses his tongue to swirl the digit, latching onto it and sucking. 

A strangled sound escapes Jungkook, his lips parting in a stricken expression. The Alpha tries to jerk his thumb out of the elder’s mouth, and Yoongi panics, latching onto it harder and refusing to let go. 

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

“Hyung,” Jungkook wheezes, face blazing. “I have to go right now, immediately.” 

Despite Yoongi’s internal mental breakdown, he has half the mind to unlatch his jaw, his lips making a wet pop as they part. Jungkook flinches at the noise and yanks his thumb out, the digit wet and glistening. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook speaks rapidly, out of breath. “Oh my god.”

“I—”

There’s not much else Yoongi can get out, because Jungkook rushes away from him, out of the room completely, leaving Yoongi standing there in a daze. With Jungkook gone, the world collapses back down on him, and he remembers that they are very much in public, with their members and staff surrounding them. 

Yoongi glances around. He can tell that a few gazes dart away quickly. Their staff looks sheepish, pointedly not paying attention. Only the members have those half-done, half-smug expressions on. Jimin meets his gaze when Yoongi’s eyes land on him, smirking with a raised brow. 

“Yah,” Taehyung complains, cheeks buldging with what must be a dangerous amount of strawberries, judging by the red juice dripping down his chin. “This is why you two are never on the same team. You have zero control around each other.”

Hoseok and Jimin burst into laughter. The three of them banter about the couple’s lack of restraint—Namjoon listens in, shaking his head with a grin—coming up with hypothetical situations that would drive the director mad. All Yoongi can do is smile weakly, glancing to the door Jungkook escaped through, his heart still beating a mile a minute in his chest. 

It—something—feels off.

 


 

The door closes behind him softly. Yoongi leans against it, breathing out heavily through his nose. The house is dark and silent around him. Before, it might’ve soothed the slight pounding in his skull, but now it just enhances the strange pressure in his chest. Seokjin’s words echo through his head, jumping and ricocheting like his mind is a bounce house. 

I talked with Jungkook—don’t look at me like that Yoongi-yah, I really did. I talked to him about, you know, Alpha things. Yah, please stop with the faces, this is awkward for me, too. And there was one thing I noticed—he got kind of... strange when I mentioned mating—Yoongi, I swear, stop grimacing at me! It made me worried, I just wanted to know if you’ve discussed it with him. 

They haven’t. Isn’t it too soon for that? 

Not for Jungkook, a small voice in his mind whispers.  

I told him about the possibilities of you two going off suppressants—because now that you have each other, it’ll be healthier for you—but he—I don’t know, Yoongi-chi. It’s like he shut down. I understand that he might just not want to talk about it with anyone other than you, so... Just... talk to him. 

Part of him feels guilty, because something bothers Jungkook, and Yoongi is none the wiser, completely unaware of what it could be. The other half is scared, because he can’t help but fear that Jungkook shut down on Jin-hyung because he doesn’t want to take their relationship that far.  

After all, Jungkook’s only 22. Isn’t that—isn’t he too young to consider being bonded? Jungkook still has so much life to live, and what if—what if, when he’s older, he doesn’t feel the same way he does now? Not that Yoongi considers himself old, but at 26 years, it’s much more reasonable for him to feel more ready to settle down.   

Jungkook was already so young when they pack bonded. It isn’t lost on Yoongi that Jungkook grew up within BTS. He doesn’t think that it was a mistake, pack bonding, of course not. They’re family. But... he can’t help but feel he’d be robbing Jungkook of something if they were to bond. 

Strawberries. As Yoongi walks to his bedroom, he can’t help but think back to the strawberry, to his unintentionally forward actions, and how Jungkook had reacted. The stricken look on his face and how he ran away. It’s too coincidental, too fresh on his mind, and it all makes sense in his head. 

On the ride home, Jungkook had pulled Jimin and Taehyung with him into one van, leaving Yoongi with the other hyungs. It’s not weird, it’s not unnatural, but why now does it feel so significant?

Jungkook deserves more, more than what you could ever give him. You... you don’t have anything to offer. Why would he want you?

It’s funny. Yoongi can’t help but laugh at himself; he’s such a fucking idiot. He’s a member of one of the most successful music groups in the world, he’s got countless awards and song credits under his belt. He loves making music, and he’s good at it, too; he’s a full member of KOMCA. That has to mean something. It does

But he still feels so worthless. 

The light is off in his bedroom. The bed is empty. It feels like a third strike—after the events of today, Seokjin’s words, his own incessant thoughts— Jungkook just happens to decide not to sleep with him tonight?

“Ugh,” Yoongi groans, rubbing at his temples, an unpleasant sensation making his skin itch. “Stop overthinking, you dramatic bitch.”

Jungkook loves him. That’s all that matters. Whether the younger wants to bond or not, as long as Jungkook still loves him. It’s hard—not letting himself worry, not running over his actions and finding a way to blame himself, put himself down—but at the very least, Yoongi doesn’t want to doubt Jungkook’s feelings; he wouldn’t want to disrespect the younger like that.  

Tomorrow, he’ll talk to Jungkook. They’re both grown men. They can settle this, and Seokjin will be able to rest at ease. 

 


  

Yoongi doesn’t get the chance to pull Jungkook aside. The younger is avoiding him. It’s painfully obvious. They’re never alone together in the same room. Jungkook is always clinging to Jimin, or Taehyung, or Hoseok. The maknae can’t even hold his gaze for more than three seconds before his eyes dart away to find a distraction. 

(If Yoongi had looked closer, maybe he’d notice the way Jungkook’s eyes would flicker to his lips, glazing over in rememberance, the way Jungkook’s cheeks would flush at his own thoughts.)

It’s alarming. Yoongi can feel the dredges of anxiety pooling at his feet, but out of sheer stubbornness, he refuses to let himself feel afraid. It’s nothing. It’s nothing

But then one day, Yoongi gathers the courage to press a kiss to Jungkook’s lips before the maknae leaves to the dance studio with Hoseok and Jimin, his own lips red and slick from how much he’s been biting at them, and Jungkook visibly shudders, jolting in the hold Yoongi has on his cheeks.

The Alpha scampers out of the front door, Jimin and Hoseok laughing at his flustered reaction on their way out. Yoongi waves them off, smile stretched over his lips, but as soon as they’re out the door, it drops, along with his stomach.

Jungkook’s jumpy. It’s almost been over a week, and Jungkook has barely touched him. Jungkook hasn’t slept in his room. 

After that, he has to go lay down, entire body encased under the covers, for a solid fifteen minutes. 

It’s beginning to affect his Omega; his anxiety. When he rises from the bed, he finds himself sneaking into Jungkook’s room, making several trips to grab the Alpha’s pillows, his blanket, and an armful of hoodies and t-shirts. Dumping them on his bed, Yoongi searches around his room, eyes hazy. 

It’s been a long while since he last nested—usually only reserved for moments of extreme stress, since he doesn’t go through heats due to his suppressants. His fingers shake, and he can feel nerves creeping up his spine, whispering that he’s not safe, he’s not right, nothing’s right

Usually he’d place the base of his nest in the farthest corner of the room, but now even that feels far too exposed. Yoongi stumbles over to his closet, sliding the door open, and—yes, this’ll do. It’s a small sized walk-in closet, so he can make his nest comfortably, and have the security of additional walls. 

Pacing back into the bedroom, Jungkook’s clothes get carefully placed on the floor beside his bed. Yoongi clambers onto it to untuck his sheets, gathering his comforter and pillows in one big bundle. It block his view, so he walks slowly to the closet, spreading them down against the very back wall. 

Yoongi moves with a numb mind, going back to his bed and returning with Jungkook’s things in his arms. Quietly, he closes the closet door behind him, and he’s immediately shrouded in darkness. It’s comforting. 

As soon as his eyes adjust to the dark, he gets to work, aided by the small amount of light slipping through the cracks of the closet door. Jungkook’s pillows go at the head of the nest, his own pillows used to border it. Across the pillows, he lays Jungkook’s clothes methodically, occasionally reaching up above him to yank one of his own shirts from a hangar. 

Before long, he’s satisfied with the nest, and he pulls his shirt off to replace it with an oversized, black hoodie—one that Jungkook’s worn most recently, judging by the smell. Yoongi curls up in the nest, spreading Jungkook’s blanket over himself and yanking it up to his chin. 

It helps settles the unease in his chest, mostly. Jungkook’s scent clouds his senses pleasantly. It reminds him of the hotel, except this time, he’s still cold, shivering without the Alpha’s warmth draped over him. If he asked, he wonders, for Jungkook to lay with him in his nest, would the younger say no?

He doesn’t want you, he already regrets ever thinking that being with you was a good idea.

Yoongi groans, pressing his face against the pillows. “Shut up,” he whispers to himself. 

No wonder he doesn’t want you, you’re a mess.

Yoongi whimpers quietly and pulls the blanket over his head, the thought of rejection making his stomach churn and his heart ache. Yoongi wraps his arms around himself and hopes that the scent of his Alpha is enough to drive the heinous voices away. 

He falls asleep like that.

 

The muffled sounds of a frantic voice rouses him. The closet is noticeably darker around him, telling him he’s been asleep for several hours. The voices sound distant, but loud enough that he can make out words, it helps that it sounds like they... they’re approaching closer.

“He didn’t leave. I would’ve heard,” Namjoon’s voice placates. Yoongi jolts as the door to his bedroom slams open. Light suddenly floods through the cracks of the closest door from the bedroom.

“All morning I’ve had a bad feeling, and—look! His sheets are gone, and his scent is all over the place! He’s not okay, a-and I can’t find him,” Jungkook speaks rapidly as he must gesture towards Yoongi’s naked mattress, worry heady in his tone, thick like he’s about to break into tears. Yoongi’s breath catches. 

“Calm down, Kookie,” Jimin pipes up, Hoseok’s voice murmuring in agreement afterwards, and Yoongi winces, wondering if the entire pack is in his room. Heart rate picking up speed, he decides to stay put. 

“Joonie’s right,” Seokjin assures, a shadow passing across the cracks of the closet door as he walks towards Jungkook. “We were here all day, and I’ve been in the living room mostly. I would’ve seen him go.”

“...What if he jumped from the window?” Jungkook asks petulantly, and Yoongi can almost see the way his shoulders slump. 

Jimin laughs softly. “Why would he take his sheets of all things? He’s probably just washing them, Kook. Did you check the laundry room?”

Jungkook makes a sad noise of affirmation. “I checked everywhere.”

The sound of pattering footsteps and the crinkles of a plastic bag enters the room. Yoongi retracts his earlier statment—now it seems everyone is gathered in his room.

“Oh, are y’all looking for Yoongi?” Taehyung wonders through a mouthful of chips.

“Have you seen him, Taehyungie?” Jimin asks. Taehyung must nod because the others break into loud interrogations. Seokjin hushes them all and prompts Taehyung to speak.

“I saw him coming out of Kook’s room with a bunch of clothes,” Taehyung offers, followed by the pops of salt being sucked off fingertips. “Hyungie’s nesting. That’s why his sheets are gone. He’s in the closet,” he provides, like it’s obvious. 

Yoongi jolts, curling up and making sure to cover the lower half of his face with the blanket, the hood of Jungkook’s hoodie placed over his head, hiding his ears. He lies still, breathing in slowly to feign sleep.

The closet door slides open just as he relaxes against the nest, fresh air flooding the slightly stuffy closet, light shining all around but not on him, due to the shadow falling across his form. Yoongi internally winces, knowing the stale scent of his earlier stress slaps his pack members in the face. 

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes.

The others must crowd against the doorway, because their forms block out more light, and Yoongi can smell the mix of their scents. Jimin makes a low coo in the back of his throat, and Yoongi knows the younger wants to comfort and cuddle him, but well—nests are a delicate thing. If Yoongi doesn’t snap at them for trying to enter his nest, Jungkook might. After all, it’s his clothes and sheets surrounding the Omega. 

The effect is apparent. Jungkook’s scent begins to billow, protective and warning. If it were anyone but their pack mates peering in on his Omega, he’d probably bite them. 

Taehyung speaks up from back in the bedroom. “You have to tell him what you told me, Kookie. It’s making hyung feel bad.”

The air is heavy with curiousity from the others, but they remain silent. Jungkook hums lowly. Yoongi can feel his gaze burning into him.

“Yeah,” Jungkook whispers. 

“C’mon,” Namjoon murmurs, ushering the others away from the closet. “We’ll leave you two alone.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says quietly. 

“Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours,” Seokjin informs him gently. “I don’t know if you’ll want to join us, or eat here, or...”

“We’ll see, hyung,” Jungkook attempts to smile. “Thank you.”

Within moments, the others leave the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Yoongi hears a light sigh, heart clenching when Jungkook exits the closet. The light switch flips, the bedroom darkening. Jungkook’s footsteps sound somewhere off in the bedroom, until he returns back to the closet, something cradled in his arms. 

A switch goes off, and soft light fills the closet. Yoongi recognizes his portable Kumamon lamp through squinted eyes. Jungkook places it on the top shelf of the closet, so the light isn’t so harsh, closing the closet door behind him. Then, silence as Jungkook shifts his weight at the edge of the nest nervously. Yoongi chooses then to speak up. 

“You can lay down,” he mumbles, eyes slowly dragging open. 

Jungkook blinks. He rubs the back of his neck, meeting Yoongi’s gaze sheepishly. “...How long have you been awake?”

Yoongi looks away from him. “Since you guys came in.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook says. 

Silence falls between them. The closet encloses them like a bubble. Yoongi still feels unsure, but he feels safer with Jungkook here. 

“You know—”

“I’m sor—”

They stare at each other. Yoongi smiles gently at Jungkook, and the Alpha returns the gesture. 

“You first, hyung,” he nods, averting his gaze. 

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. Curling further into himself, he tucks his nose into the hoodie, breathing in the soothing scent. He wishes it were Jungkook. 

“You know I love you, right?” Yoongi speaks up. Jungkook glances up sharply at that. 

“Of course,” he promises, stepping closer to the edge of the nest, wringing his fingers together. “I know, Yoongi-yah, and you—you know I love you, too... Right?”

Yoongi smiles, soft and gummy, holding up the edge of the blanket. “Of course.”

Jungkook looks relieved, pulling off his jeans to leave himself in his t-shirt and boxers, climbing eagerly into the nest. Yoongi covers them both, his own relief flooding through him so strongly that it makes him lightheaded. He wastes no time in sidling right up to Jungkook, nuzzling his face against the side of the younger’s neck. It’s been a while since they scented each other. 

The Alpha shivers, hugging Yoongi closer, a hand sliding down the elder’s side to pull at the back of his knee, pulling the Omega’s leg over his hip, so it lays against his waist. 

“That’s all I wanted to say,” Yoongi mumbles, dragging his lips across Jungkook’s neck lazily, waiting patiently for the younger to speak. 

Jungkook lets out a soft groan at the feeling of Yoongi’s lips across his scent gland. It feels too good. Yoongi’s lips, his... his mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook takes a deep breath, hiding his face against Yoongi’s hair. “I’m sorry your Alpha’s an idiot who freaks out and runs away when he’s flustered. I never meant to run from you.”

Yoongi tries to pull back to look at him in confusion, but Jungkook threads his fingers through the elder’s hair, holding Yoongi against his neck. Yoongi relaxes easily, deciding to let him speak.

“It’s weird. I’ve loved you for so long, and there were... lines I told myself I’d never cross, you know? When it came to...”

Jungkook makes a soft noise, rubbing his nose through Yoongi’s hair. 

“It’s embarrassing, but when Jin-hyung talked to me, it... brought a lot of things to my attention. Things I hadn’t thought about in a while, because I was so caught up on just... being with you. On finally having you.”

Yoongi feels the tips of ears heating up; he’s able to feel Jungkook’s heart pounding under his cheek. The Alpha’s fingers massage the back of the thigh strewn over him, and it makes Yoongi’s lashes flutter, his breath starting to grow heavier. 

Jungkook clears his throat once, twice, but his voice still comes out strained, low and breathless.

“My parents bonded young. They were fresh out of high school when they did, and I’d always thought I was going to bond young, too. Then, BTS happened and I stopped thinking about it. But then you happened and I couldn't help but wonder again. I felt guilty for wanting it so soon. I never want to rush or pressure you, Yoongi-yah. Because I do want it. I want to mate and bond you, baby.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi breathes against his shoulder. The Alpha shushes him gently.

“That was a while ago. And then, Jin-hyung had talked to me about suppressants and heats, and I couldn’t... stop thinking about it. You, like that. I didn’t mean to avoid you, but the whole strawberry thing happened, and I—”

Yoongi gasps as Jungkook’s hold on him tightens, a rumbling half-moan slipping past the Alpha’s lips as he recalls the event—remembers Yoongi’s warm, slick mouth around his thumb. Yoongi’s stomach jolts; Jungkook’s scent thickens, and he can taste it. 

“I want you,” Jungkook groans out against Yoongi’s ear, breath warm and wet.

The dam breaks.

Yoongi shudders, a series of whimpers tearing out of his chest as Jungkook runs his open mouth down his neck, lapping messily at the Omega’s scent gland. The elder jerks against him, moaning into the skin of the Alpha’s neck.

“Yeah,” Jungkook pants, sucking harshly at the Omega’s scent gland. Yoongi can’t stop twitching and jerking against him, already so sensitive. “Taste so sweet, Jagi, fuck—”

Jungkook wants him. Jungkook wants him. Jungkook has thought about them like—like that. It leaves Yoongi reeling, blood rushing all over his body, and warmth seeping to other places. Yoongi has never been turned on so quickly, and if Jungkook keeps talking like that, he won’t be able to stop the onslaught of slick building up.

“Jungkook, Jungkookie-yah,” Yoongi stutters, reaching up and moving his lips across the Alpha’s chin, leaving a wet trail as he searches for his lips. 

Jungkook stoops down to meet him, their lips clashing together desperately, mouths melding and sucking harshly at each other. Yoongi feels Jungkook’s tongue trace the back of his teeth and shivers, hands rising to tug on the Alpha’s hair. Jungkook growls low in his throat, ducking to suckle kisses into the Omega’s neck. 

“I was worried,” Yoongi gasps out, raking his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” Jungkook softens, his hold easing up as he presses apologetic kisses to Yoongi’s jaw, rubbing their cheeks together. Yoongi sighs, eyes falling closed when Jungkook’s hand slides up his thigh to massage at the elder’s ass gently. 

“Thought you didn’t want me anymore,” Yoongi mumbles. 

The hand on his ass squeezes. A low rumble vibrates against Yoongi’s chest, and he finds himself suddenlly rolled onto his back, Jungkook hovering over him, between his spread knees, staring down at him with burning eyes. 

Never,” Jungkook swears, voice thick with sincerity. “I’ll never not want you, Jagi.” 

Yoongi has to blink back a sudden onslaught of tears. “Good,” he sniffs, reaching up to rub his wrists against the sides of the Alpha’s neck, scenting him. “Because you’re mine. No takesie-backsies.”

Jungkook smiles, leaning into his touch with sparkling eyes. Yoongi meets his gaze warmly, biting his lip shyly before:

“It’s a good point... because I was worried about the same thing, about making sure I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t want... As for me, Jungkook-ah, it’s okay to—to think about that kind of stuff,” Yoongi squirms a little, already flushed cheeks darkening further. 

“Sex,” Jungkook provided bluntly, grinning down at him sharply. 

Yoongi bites his lip, averting his gaze. “Y-Yeah... It’s alright to think about it and to want to t-touch me. It makes me happy that you do. You don’t have to repress that, bun. You’re my Alpha; you’re allowed to...”

It’s quiet. Yoongi looks up to find Jungkook watching him curiously, the corners of his mouth quirked up.

“W-What?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re mine, too, Yoongi-yah. My Omega. You don’t have to tiptoe around me, either, okay?”

Yoongi’s chest flutters. A wide smile spreads his lips. Jungkook smirks as he looks down at him. His eyes flood with molten darkness again, and Yoongi’s breath falters, smile slipping from his face. 

“So next time you want something in your mouth, tell me. I’ll give you better than just a finger to suck on, kitten,” Jungkook murmurs, slowly lowering down until his weight presses Yoongi into the nest. 

The words have heat flooding the elder’s face, his mouth flapping open and closed uselessly, unable to escape with Jungkook pinning him down. He’d never thought Jungkook would be such a dirty talker, but he can’t help but eat that shit up, hips twitching with every word the Alpha says. 

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” Jungkook speaks lowly against Yoongi’s chin, kissing the skin wetly. “And you made such a good nest, Jagi, such a good boy for Alpha.” 

“Jungkook, fuck,” Yoongi gasps, grasping at the back of the younger’s shirt, trembling as Jungkook latches onto his neck. 

Jungkook lets out a long hum. It vibrates against Yoongi’s skin, his scent gland. Jungkook moves back to scrape his teeth against the skin, before digging in gently, teasing a mating bite. Yoongi jolts, whining, and Jungkook absolutely relishes in the noises.

“Is that what you want, baby?” Jungkook teases, slowly starting to dig his hips down against Yoongi’s. 

A soft moan slips past Yoongi’s parted lips; he’d been at half-mast the entire time, and feeling Jungkook’s full blown erection against him is getting him the rest of the way very quickly. Yoongi pulls Jungkook into a heated kiss, matching Jungkook’s grinds, squirming under the Alpha. 

A tickling sensation has Yoongi clenching his thighs together as best as he can with Jungkook between them. He can feel it, sliding down his skin to pool at his tailbone, wet and warm, seeping into the nest—his slick

Jungkook’s nose flares, air rushing out against Yoongi’s face as the Alpha stiffens. Yoongi doesn’t know if he should curse or praise the younger’s sensitive nose, still trying to close his legs, but failing with the obstacle of Jungkook in the way. 

More,” Jungkook breathes. Yoongi stutters to a stop, glancing at him in confusion. 

“W-What?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. The Alpha tugs on Yoongi’s hoodie, growling when it doesn’t come off quick enough. 

“Okay, okay!” Yoongi placates, struggling but still managing to throw the hoodie off. Jungkook pulls on his boxers next, impatient and frenzied. 

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to pull them off, but he does pout at the younger. “Take yours off, too—”

Jungkook flings his shirt and boxers off in a record amount of time. Yoongi would be impressed, but he doesn’t have the time. The next thing he knows, he’s letting out a loud ‘oof’ as Jungkook falls against his chest. 

“What are y—ohhh,” Yoongi throws his head back, rasping out a moan as Jungkook’s tongue swirls around his nipple, sucking with his teeth grazing the bud. Yoongi’s hips jerk against the blankets, shifting his thighs as more slick trickles out of him.

Jungkook stamps wet bites and kisses across his chest, down to his stomach. Yoongi gasps, back arching as the Alpha marks the sensitive skin between his hipbones. Jungkook’s warm breath brushes against his aching dick, but the younger pays little attention to it. 

Two large hands come up to palm at his ass, tugging and squeezing and spreading the cheeks firmly. Yoongi gasps, arms wrapping tightly around Jungkook’s shoulders. 

He’s wet. Fuck, he’s so fucking wet now, slick pouring out of him, making Jungkook’s fingers slippery against his skin. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook pants, sitting back to run his hands over Yoongi’s slick soaked thighs. Yoongi shudders, gasping shakily as Jungkook traces his skin with feather light touches, practically tickling him. Jungkook unabashedly runs his fingers between Yoongi’s asscheeks, gathering up slick and spreading it all over his inner thighs. 

“Jungkook,” Yoongi pleads, spreading his legs widely. The Alpha growls, purring deep in his chest at the action.

“You smell so fucking good, Yoongi.”  Jungkook ducks down, biting into Yoongi’s thigh, harshly sucking and letting out a high-pitched, pleased moan. “Like honey, fuck, you taste like it, too.”

Yoongi yelps, his hips jumping off the blankets. Jungkook growls and grips behind both his knees, pushing them up to his chest, pinning him in place as he runs his mouth up and down Yoongi’s thighs, licking the slick from his skin. Yoongi can feel the Alpha’s breath fan across his rim, feeling deliciously exposed. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yoongi whimpers, shivering and twitching helplessly, his hips still trying to jerk against Jungkook’s hold. “Kook, ah, please...”

“Can I?” Jungkook murmurs, swirling his tongue ever so closer. “Can I taste you, Jagi? Wanna taste you so bad.”

“Yes, yes, ye-e—ssmm!” Yoongi shudders, head rolling back against the pillow when Jungkook’s tongue dips past his rim, slowly spearing it into him. Jungkook’s panting heavily, chest rumbling, his hips bucking against the blankets as he feels Yoongi clench down on his tongue. 

A whimper tears out of Jungkook’s throat at the taste, so sweet and strong, just like his Omega’s scent. He can’t get enough. Jungkook thrusts his tongue in and out of Yoongi, groaning at every whine punched out of the elder, every buck against his firm hold. It’s so fucking hot; how easy it is to hold Yoongi down. 

The Omega’s cries suddenly become muffled, and Jungkook stares up at him—

Fuck, fuck, fuck

Jungkook can’t control the desperate hitch and grind of his hips, pressing his aching cock against the blankets, can’t tear his gaze away from Yoongi, who—who—

One of the elder’s hands fists the pillow above him, the other hand has four fingers shoved in his mouth, drool slipping past his lips and sliding down his neck. Jungkook closes his lips around the elder’s rim and sucks with all the power he can muster, watching as Yoongi hiccups around his own fingers, spreading and rubbing all over the inside of his mouth. 

“Got an oral fixation I gotta know about, baby?” Jungkook rasps, biting into the meat of Yoongi’s ass. 

Yoongi slides his fingers from his mouth, whimpering out, “Didn’t know until—until I tasted you, ah!

Jungkook returns to eating him out with a fervor, groaning into it. Yoongi’s eyes roll to the back of his head as Jungkook laps at his rim, tonguing and sucking desperately. Yoongi can see the way Jungkook humps against the blankets, and it makes his dick and ass ache, the fact that Jungkook is so turned on by this. The slick won’t stop gushing out of him, precome pooling on his stomach. 

“Please,” Yoongi cries, eyes watering from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please, wanna cum, J-Jungkook...”

Jungkook moans, biting his way up Yoongi’s skin until he reaches the base of the Omega’s cock. 

“Cum for me, baby, yeah,” Jungkook pants, massaging his thumb into the elder’s perineum, sliding a finger into the Omega, and suckling one ball into his mouth, all at once.

Ah, ah, ah—” Yoongi jolts, groaning intensely, throwing his head back and bucking his hips uncontrollably as he cums, painting his chest white. Jungkook curses, easing him through it until Yoongi is whimpering and hiccuping in overstimulation. 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whines, hips rutting helplessly against the nest. “Yoongi—”

“Yeah,” Yoongi pants, dragging up his thighs bonelessly, pressing them together as best as he can. “C’mere, Kook-ah, f-fuck my thighs.”

Jungkook clambers up onto his knees, looping his arms around Yoongi’s legs, tossing the Omega’s calves over one shoulder. Yoongi gasps as his hips raise slightly from the nest, shivering as he feels Jungkook’s hot cock slip between the soft skin of his thighs.

“Yes,” Jungkook hisses, hips immediately starting up a rapid, desperate pace. Yoongi breathes heavily, lashes fluttering each time the younger’s hips slap against his thighs.   

Jungkook hugs his legs, squeezing them together with all the strength he can muster, whimpering out, “T-Tighter, Jagi, fuck, please—”

The younger’s staring down at him, but his gaze is hazy and unfocused, lost in the waves of pleasure washing over him. Pained whines and growls slip out of him; it’s not enough. Yoongi wracks his brain for anything to help him reach the edge. 

It’s kind of nervewracking. Yoongi’s never really done this before, but if it makes Jungkook burn hotter, he’ll talk until his lips fall off. 

Alpha,” Yoongi pants, chest heaving. “My strong, handsome Alpha.”

Jungkook’s breath stutters, blinking down at Yoongi until his gaze sharpens, hyperfocused on the elder under him. 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook moans, his hips slapping loudly against Yoongi’s skin, his pace unfaltering. 

Yoongi hums, letting his gaze burn as he swirls his fingers through the cum still splattered over his chest. “Feels so good when you fuck me, such a good Alpha for your Omega.”

Jungkook groans, sucking on the side of Yoongi’s knee. “Yeah? Wanna be the best for you. Mine, my Jagi-yah.”

“Yes,” Yoongi promises in a hissing voice, reaching out a hand to catch the head of Jungkook’s cock everytime it slips past his thighs. 

“Feels so good, Alpha feels so good, too,” Jungkook moans, impossibly picking up speed, thrusting messily. “Just wanna—fuck—take care of you and fucking—stuff you full.”

Oh, oh, Yoongi can work with that. 

“Gonna give me your knot?” Yoongi gasps as Jungkook leans down heavily on him, almost bending him in half, the tip of his cock brushing against the elder’s  stomach every time he thrusts. 

They both know Jungkook can’t, not outside of a rut or a heat, which then triggers a rut. But fuck if the thought isn’t hot.

(If it’s so hot now, then what about when one of them is actually in heat? Fuck, Yoongi can’t even think about it.)

“Mhm,” Jungkook hums shakily, hips pistoning sharply, biting at the Omega’s legs. “Gonna knot you, baby, you’re mine.”

Yoongi shudders, watching with awe as Jugkook’s thrusts become sloppier, his rhythm faltering. Close, he’s so close. 

“I’m yours,” Yoongi breathes, and in a sudden burst of inspiration, he reaches down behind himself, lathering two fingers in his slick before bringing his hand up to Jungkook’s face. 

“Y-Yoongi,” the younger gasps, and Yoongi uses the opportunity to slide his finger’s into the Jungkook’s mouth. 

Knot me, Alpha,” Yoongi moans out, massaging his slick onto Jungkook’s tongue.

A loud, sharp cry leaves Jungkook, and Yoongi gets to witness firsthand how the Alpha’s eyes roll back, his hips bucking wildly as he shoots his load across the elder’s chest. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi whimpers as Jungkook keeps sucking harshly on his fingers, not leaving a single drop of slick remaining on his skin, riding out his orgasm. “Jungkookie—”

Jungkook releases his fingers with a wet pop, quickly shoving the elder’s thighs apart to lay between them, not a care in the world for the release still staining Yoongi’s stomach. The Alpha cups his face, kissing him sensually, his hips still twitching with aftershocks. 

Yoongi runs his hands up Jungkook’s back soothingly. After a few minutes, the two of them are breathing normally. Yoongi grimaces at the cum smeared between them, gaping with a disturbed expression when Jungkook moves back and rubs it into his skin.

“Kookie!” Yoongi complains, swatting at the maknae’s hands, but Jungkook deflects him easily, reaching up to rub his cum against the Omega’s neck. “That’s so gross!”

Jungkook grins, wide and gleeful. Yoongi pouts; he can’t scold Jungkook when he’s so happy like that. 

“It makes you smell like me,” Jungkook explains, tilting his head to the side like Yoongi’s an idiot. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes, poking the younger’s ribs, but still Jungkook remains solid above him. “You could just scent me, you brat.”

A mischievous giggle escapes Jungkook, the Alpha smirking down at him smugly. “It makes you smell like me, sexually.”

“Yeah, because everyone needs to know we had—” Yoongi halts suddenly. The realization creeps up on him slowly. Jungkook watches fondly as Yoongi’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing darkly. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles softly, tracing Yoongi’s cheek with his thumb. “We had sex.”

A strangled noise sounds in the back of Yoongi’s throat, and in a surprising show of strength—embarrassment does that to him—he pushes Jungkook off him, rolling away, taking the blanket with him. Jungkook pokes his back; he looks like a sushi roll.

“D-Don’t look at me!” Yoongi whines, burying his face into the pillows. His thighs are cool and wet with slick, hole still gaping because Jungkook—Jungkook’s tongue was in there! It’s so embarrassing. Everything that just took place replays in his head—every word and moan and action. Pressure builds in his chest, completely overwhelmed. 

“I did more than look at you,” Jungkook grins smugly, giggly and euphoric, high off endorphins. “I almost passed out when you put your slick in my mouth. Fuck, that was hot.”

Yoongi rolls face down into the pillows and screams. 

 


 

Hoseok bounds back from the hallway, a blissful smile painting his lips. He returns to his spot at the table, settling down in his chair and clasping his hands together.

“Sugakookie will not be joining us for dinner,” he announces pleasantly. 

“Oh!” Jimin exclaims, straightening in his seat with wide eyes. “They’re fucking!”

“Yah,” Seokjin complains. 

Taehyung giggles, using his chopsticks to stack onions on top of his rice. “At least you know that sex talk was put to good use, hyung.”

“You did well, hyung.” Jimin congratulates seriously, reverting to his heavy Busan dialect. 

Hoseok laughs before schooling his expression and bowing his head. “Thank you for your service, Commander Kim.”

Seokjin groans, slapping Namjoon’s arm vehemently. “Namjoon-ah, tell them to stop. I have no part in this!”

Namjoon sputters, chopsticks an inch from his open mouth, the swirl of noodles collapsing to the table with the force of Seokjin’s hits against his arm. The Beta stares down at the fallen food forlornly.

“It’s a good thing, hyungie!” Jimin consoles brazenly, waving his chopsticks at the eldest.

“Yeah,” Taehyung supports, popping an onion slice in his mouth. “The sexual tension was gonna suffocate us. You saved our lives.”

“You really are a hero,” Hoseok sniffs, clenching a fist over his heart. 

Oh my god,” Jimin squeaks suddenly. “What if they have a baby?

Taehyung’s expression lights up in excitement, eyes widening and mouth falling open in a wide smile. Hoseok gasps, slapping his hands onto his cheeks. 

“No,” Namjoon wheezes out after nearly choking on his drink. He pauses, pointing a finger at Jimin. “No.”

“Not now,” Jimin defends, scrunching his nose at their leader. “In the future.”

Seokjin comes to Namjoon’s aid, smiling fondly at the younger members’ excitement. “Male Omegas have a slimmer chance of pregnancy. It’s not impossible, but not very likely either.”

“Booo,” Taehyung blows a raspberry. “Did you forget that Yoongi-hyung is a prophet? If anyone can work miracles, it’s him.”

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees, smirking. “And Jungkookie’s a freak. This is our Golden Maknae we’re talking about. If any dick can work miracles, it’s his.”

Okay,” Namjoon interrupts loudly. “Can we not talk about Kook’s magic dick capabilities at the dinner table?”

Taehyung whistles lowly, ignoring him. “Damn, they really are That Couple.”

Seokjin mutters into his drink, “They can be Power Couple of the Century, but I’m still most handsome.”

“Can you just imagine a little Yoongi and Jungkook running around?” Jimin slams his hands down on the table.

“That’s so cute,” Hoseok cries, rubbing at his face, giggling uncontrollably. “Help, that’s so cute!”

“I wanna be an uncle,” Taehyung pleads, turning to Namjoon with a pout. “Joon-hyung, can’t we be uncles?”

“I never said that. I just meant not now—”

“All in favor of being uncles, raise your hand!” Hoseok yells, throwing his hand up. Taehyung follows, and Jimin raises both hands, squirming awkwardly in his seat to raise a foot as well. Even Seokjin half raises his hand.

Namjoon gasps. “Hyung?

“Ha! Outvoted! You’re off the island!” Taehyung points at Namjoon, throwing his head back to cackle. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Namjoon deadpans, sighing in defeat. “How’d you even start talking about babies? I though we were congratulating Jin-hyung on his direct contribution to the end of YoonKook’s sexual tension.”

“No!” Seokjin cries, turning to Namjoon in utter betrayal. 

Perish, Namjoon’s eyes tell him.

“Oh, yeah!” Hoseok claps his hands, bouncing in his seat a bit. “I was kind of thinking we should get a trophy, like in that Run episode.”

Oo,” Jimin nods excitedly. “Personally engraved: to best wingman, Kim Seokjin; he took that sexual tension and actually cut it with a knife.”

Taehyung raises an impressed brow. “Wow, can I get one of these talks?”

Seokjin’s head thumps against the table.

“I hate you all.”

Chapter 3: III

Chapter Text

The night is cool—on the chillier side of fresh—the air crisp and dry. It’s nice to know that summer is officially drawn to an end; Yoongi hates the heat. But then he remembers that the end of summer means the slow descent into winter, and he grows discontent again—Yoongi also hates the cold. 

At least, now, he has Jungkook to keep him warm. That, and the Alpha’s many hoodies and sweatshirts.

His Alpha, who walks beside him, his arm hanging just behind Yoongi’s, their pinkies linked gently. Yoongi shifts, turns his wrist to go for a full on hand grab, relishing in the feeling of Jungkook’s palm brushing his own as they walk, languid and relaxed, concealed by the dark of the night. 

Jungkook is humming under his breath, something sweet and simple. Yoongi watches the pavement as they walk, honing in on the younger’s voice, all else fading. Without thinking about much else, Yoongi uses their intertwined hands to tug Jungkook closer, their shoulders colliding. 

The humming cuts off as Jungkook glances down at him. A smile breaks across his lips; he pulls his hand free to sling it over Yoongi’s shoulders, tucking the Omega into his side. Yoongi lets his now unoccupied hand slide across Jungkook’s back to wrap around his waist, hugging him snugly. 

A pleased sigh parts Yoongi’s lips. Jungkook turns his head to press a kiss against the elder’s temple, letting his lips linger on the skin. Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut. 

The two of them lull to a stop. The mostly empty park surrounds them in nature’s silence—crickets chirping faintly, the gentle rattle of the wind through the treetops—with the occasional city soundscapes jumping in. A car honk, an airplane, distant voices. At the basketball court not too far away, a group of friends plays a late night game, yelling and laughing.

Yoongi brings his other arm up to hug Jungkook’s waist, stepping in front of the younger so they’re pressed chest to slighter lower chest. Resting his chin on Jungkook’s front, he stares up at the Alpha with soft eyes. 

Jungkook blinks in surprise, but he hugs Yoongi’s shoulders, squeezing them gently in return. 

“What? Why are we stopping?” Jungkook quirks an amused lip, tilting his chin down to kiss between the elder’s brows. “I thought you wanted lamb skewers.”

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes darting away but his body pressing even closer. “I wanted to hug you more,” he mumbles. 

A pleased rumble vibrates Jungkook’s chest under his chin. It makes heat rise to his face, his lip wobbly against a growing smile. Yoongi ducks his head and presses his cheek against the crook of Jungkook’s neck, tucking his nose under the collar of the younger’s hoodie, nuzzling the skin there. 

Jungkook hums out a sigh, tilting his head to allow the Omega greater access. Bursts of soft, barely audible growls slip past his lips as Yoongi kisses his way up his neck. He wraps his arms tighter around the elder. 

“Yoongi...” Jungkook murmurs, closing his eyes when the elder snuffles at his scent gland, Yoongi’s hands fisting the back of his hoodie. 

The Omega presses his nose against Jungkook’s neck firmly, taking in a deep, whiffing breath. Jungkook’s scent floods his senses, drowning him in the most pleasant way, overwhelming all else. It’s hard to pull away—he doesn’t want to.

They’ve discussed it—heats and ruts and suppressants and what they want—and they’ve decided that they much rather go through their cycles naturally, with the aid of each other. 

After a long meeting with their managers, they’d been given the clear. The both of them met with their doctor to determine the next steps—which aren’t so grand, as much as they are simple. They’ll cease to take their suppressants and let nature do the rest of the work. 

It’s less complicated for Jungkook. Alphas only go into a natural rut twice a year—unless triggered by a heat—whereas Omegas face heat much more frequently. Jungkook’s body won’t react too much to the lack of suppressant until the telltale signs of Yoongi’s upcoming cycle, which will spark the beginning of his rut, so Jungkook’s been allowed to cut off his suppressant intake right away.

Yoongi, on the other hand, has to wean off his supressants slowly, otherwise he won’t be able to control just when his heat kicks in (presumably as soon as his system is clear of the medication). In a span of just about a month, he’s gone from one pill a day to a pill every three days. Soon, in about two more weeks, he’ll be completely suppressant free. Then, it’ll be a matter of mere days before his heat arrives. 

There are noticeable changes. 

From the moment he cut down on suppressants, Yoongi immediately took note of his own changes—stronger desires to nurture and provide for his pack. To praise them for doing well, and to assure them if they’re feeling insecure. Yoongi’s never been too upfront with his care, subtle and quiet in his approach, but now it feels like he has to make sure his pack knows they can rely on him. 

When he’s with Jungkook, he’s at levels of soft he never thought he’d achieve. Affectionate, doting, ready and available for whatever his Alpha may need. I want you to be happy, he thinks whenever he’s beside the younger. Please be happy with me.

All these things he already felt and experienced, but now that he’s on the brink of a heat with a decreasing level of suppressants in his system, they’re stronger than ever.

Jungkook’s stated how he doesn’t feel too different, save for urges to keep Yoongi close and safe, to take care and protect. However, those instincts already existed. They've only been slightly intensified. All in all, he feels rather normal. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s realized how his scent has changed. 

It’s the same base scent, of course, it’s still Jungkook. But there’s an underlying musk that wasn’t completely there before, something dark and earthy at the very edges of his scent, something that oozes and emanates Alpha

Yoongi thought he loved Jungkook’s scent before. Now, he’s obsessed almost, can’t seem to get enough of it, of Jungkook.  

In this moment, it’s very hard to ignore the convincing thought of turning back home, pushing Jungkook down on the bed, and stripping them of their clothes to rub himself against the Alpha’s bare skin, quite literally rolling in his scent. (Not sexually, he just wants to be as close to the younger as possible, skin against skin.)

Yoongi raises his chin, standing on his toes a bit as he drags his cheek down the length of Jungkook’s neck. He repeats the action reverently—up and down and up and down. Jungkook giggles at the brazen display of affection, hands sliding down Yoongi’s back to poke at his sides.

“Yah,” Yoongi complains, huffing a breath out against the younger’s neck as his body twitches away from the tickling fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t cease his movements, spurred on by the Omega’s complaints. His fingers keep dancing over Yoongi’s sides, but much to his chagrin, the elder fails to react. 

“Ah, if only you weren’t wearing this thick sweater,” Jungkook laments regretfully, tugging at the material. “I can’t tickle you like this.”

“Good,” Yoongi counters, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s neck and leaning back to look at him, sending him a scowling pout. “Can’t you just hug me like a normal person?”

“Boo, that’s no fun, hyung. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Jungkook grins and darts forward to blow a raspberry against the elder’s cheek.

Yoongi jerks away, nose scrunching at the sensation, smacking the Alpha’s shoulder lightly. Jungkook keeps attacking his forehead similarly, lips pressing all over the elder’s face until Yoongi is laughing outright, which makes the younger giggle in response. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi drawls out, reaching up to cup the Alpha’s cheeks, squishing them together. “Stop it,” he whines playfully, raising the pitch of his voice.

Stop it~” Jungkook instantly mimics, grinning as best as he can with his squished cheeks pursing his lips forward.

Yoongi scoffs, jiggling his face around in revenge. “You’re such a brat, Kook-ah,” he grumbles.

Jungkook snorts, batting his lashes at the elder. “But I’m your brat, Yoongi-yah,” he mumbles out past his smushed lips, mirth dancing in his eyes. His arms finally settle around Yoongi’s waist, hugging him normally. 

It’s scientifically proven that Yoongi is soft on Jungkook, but the younger doesn’t need to hear that from him. Yoongi rolls his eyes, releasing his squeeze on Jungkook’s cheeks to cup them gently, rubbing one thumb over his cheekbone, and the other over the curve of the Alpha’s bottom lip. It provides a decent enough distraction; Jungkook’s lashes flutter, pupils dilating as he stares down at Yoongi, eyes flickering to the elder’s lips.  

Slowly, Yoongi raises his chin, letting his lips hover over the younger’s jaw, his breath fanning over the skin there. The Omega can practically feel Jungkook vibrate in anticipation as he draws his lips closer to the Alpha’s mouth, barely grazing over his skin. Jungkook’s mouth parts on instinct, the younger’s arms tightening around Yoongi’s waist as Yoongi pauses, lips just over the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. 

Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed, pressing his body closer to Jungkook, who leans against him just as strongly. The Omega slightly tilts his head to the side, finally allowing their lips to meet gently, catching against each other. Jungkook hugs him closer, pursing his lips and massaging them along the elder’s bottom lip.

The breath whooshes out of Yoongi as he parts his mouth easily at Jungkook’s prompting. The younger instantly pulls his bottom lip between his own, tongue tracing it, suckling gently. 

“Kook-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, mouth just brushing the curve of Jungkook’s upper lip. 

“Yes,” Jungkook breathes right away.

Yoongi lets the Alpha rub their mouths together languidly for a few more moments before mumbling out, “Let’s go to the restaurant now...”

“Hmm...”

Jungkook deepens the kiss suddenly. Yoongi makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, falling back onto his heels from the force of it, head tilting back as Jungkook leans over him, their mouths melding together. Yoongi’s eyelids flutter as Jungkook’s tongue traces every corner of the Omega’s mouth it can reach, sucking the breath right out of him.

It’s a slow, languid kiss, but just as passionate and intense. Yoongi grips the younger’s biceps, kneading at the sleeves of his hoodie, as Jungkook’s hands raise to cup his jaw, holding him in place. Their lips part with a loud yet gentle click, huffing out against each other. 

“Okay.” Jungkook takes in a deep, fragile breath, pecking Yoongi’s lips one last time, lingering before he pulls away. “Now we can go.”

Heart thundering in his chest, throat, and head, Yoongi meets Jungkook’s intense gaze, his lips tingling. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Their hands find each other naturally, intertwining securely. Jungkook sends him a bright smile, and Yoongi returns the gesture, lips curling up instantly in response. They smile at each other silently, until Jungkook ducks his head, grinning down at the ground as a happy hum escapes him.  

Cute...

Yoongi takes that as his cue and begins to walk, Jungkook stepping beside him, still beaming pleasantly. The Alpha squeezes their hands together and begins swinging them idly between the two. 

The smile on Yoongi’s face grows when Jungkook picks up the tune he was humming earlier. Yoongi reaches his free hand out to wrap around Jungkook’s elbow—the same arm whose hand he holds. Pulling the Alpha a tad closer, Yoongi leans his head on Jungkook as they walk, hiding his wide, happy grin against the younger’s shoulder.

 


 

The suit Jungkook wears is uncomfortably high collared, digging into the base of his throat. There’s an unpleasant churn in his chest that makes him feel even more choked. He tries hard  to not wear his annoyance on his sleeve, crafting a blank expression the best he can, but judging by the looks Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok keep sending him, he’s not doing a very good job. 

Underneath his clothes, he’s rubbed red, chafed raw, almost. Underneath a layer of concealer and powder, his neck is the same. It has irritation bubbling inside him.

Three times. Three times the managers had him shower. To scrub away his Omega’s scent, Yoongi’s scent. They coated him in descentor until there was no trace of the Omega left on Jungkook. 

It makes him mad. (And pouty.) 

Namjoon had pulled him aside and explained it to him. They can’t have the couple absolutely wrapped in each other’s scents, smelling like, well, a couple. Rumors will get out before the company has created a statement and strategy to deal with the damage control.

He gets it, but it still puts him on edge. Jungkook wishes he didn’t have to be so separated from Yoongi; taking two different cars, being told to sit completely opposite each other at the award show. It feels like a bigger issue than it should be. 

But, he reminds himself, Namjoon told him that they’d done the same to Yoongi—completely erased Jungkook’s scent from his skin. And, yeah, maybe separating them is for the best, because Jungkook knows he probably won’t be able to hold himself back from re-scenting the elder, and with the way his Alpha is riled up, he’d probably unintentionally make a scene.  

However, even if he understands, it’s still extremely stressful. He can’t even imagine how Yoongi must be feeling, but at least the Omega has Jin-hyung with him. Their Pack Alpha will be able to help keep him calm. It gives Jungkook a bit of reassurance, and he already knows he’ll probably be clinging onto Namjoon-hyung the whole night, counting on their leader to keep him in check. 

They arrive to the venue, and Jungkook is conflicted whether or not it’s sooner than he’d like. He’s torn between wanting to have Yoongi in his sight as soon as possible, or feeling reluctant because he’ll struggle all evening with his task of avoiding the elder. 

It’s difficult; he can already feel his fingers start to tremble. It feels like Yoongi’s been torn away from him, his Alpha cowering and whining pitifully underneath the snappy anger. If he could see Yoongi, maybe...

The car pulls to a stop, and Jimin and Hoseok eagerly jump towards the door. Jungkook feels guilty for creating so much tension; he knows that his pheromones are a lot more intense now that he’s off suppressants, but he can’t help it. 

They're going to a place where they’ll be surrounded by people, and he’s got an unscented Omega who’s two weeks from his first heat in years and most likely even more stressed by the situation than he is. Jungkook knows that scents are a safety blanket for the elder, and for the company to deny Yoongi to even sit next to him? It’s—

A hand lands on the nape of his neck, massaging his skin tenderly. Jungkook jolts, a growl bubbling in his throat, but then the soothing, soft scent of green tea and jasmine fills his nose. It settles the agitation building in him a bit. Their leader and Beta’s scent. 

“You’re working yourself up, Kookie,” Namjoon speaks lowly, nonthreatening as possible. The car door opens, and Jimin and Hoseok are climbing out. Jungkook follows numbly, Namjoon right on his heels. 

“It’ll be over before you know it, yeah?”

Namjoon is still speaking to him quietly, and Jungkook does his best to listen to the words while his eyes, sharp and unwavering, peer up ahead, looking for one person only. 

Oh, how is the evening supposed to pass quickly when he can feel time slowing down once his gaze falls upon Yoongi? The elder looks beautiful, he always does, but he’s dressed to impress tonight: satin, flowing shirt tucked into form fitting dress pants, and smouldering makeup. Consider Jungkook starstruck. 

The Alpha leans forward on his toes, shifting his weight to already try and make his way to Yoongi, but Namjoon’s hand falls onto his shoulder, gentle but firm, keeping him in place. A low whine slips pass Jungkook’s lips.

“Bear with it, Kook,” Namjoon encourages quietly. “I promise, when this is over you two can ride the same car back home.”

That’s something to look forward to, at least. With the way his stomach turns with unease and frustration, he knows he’d probably pull Yoongi to his side after the award show anyways. But having permission to is nice. 

Despite his emotions, Jungkook doesn’t want to create trouble for Namjoon and the other members. It’s just an award show, he reminds himself. A respectable event. Every artist here has a reputation to uphold; nothing will happen to Yoongi. They have to simply sit, accept their award and thank their fans, sit some more, and then they can go home. Easy. 

They gather up, and Jungkook steps behind Namjoon’s shoulder, whereas he’d been leading before. As the members stand in front of the leader, he can see that Yoongi’s done something similar, hiding behind Jin-hyung a bit. It feels safe, having their leader and Pack Alpha between them. Jungkook just hopes his Alpha doesn’t fixate on them as obstacles and start to act out against them.

Because once his nose picks up Yoongi’s scent, he finds himself leaning forward against Namjoon’s shoulder, the Beta the only thing physically holding him back. That, and Seokjin’s piercing gaze—not intimidating or angry, but simply watchful and a bit warning. Jungkook resists the urge to bare his teeth and snarl at the eldest, even as his head ducks in surrender. 

Behind the Pack Alpha, Yoongi’s face is blank, expressionless and unreadable, already in acting mode before there are cameras around them. Jungkook wants to hug him so bad

They head into the venue, Seokjin leading at the front and Namjoon at the very end with Jungkook following close behind him. 

“Couldn’t I at least walk next to him?” Jungkook grumbles quietly. Namjoon smiles back at him assuadingly. 

“Your scent’s already emitting like crazy, Jungkookie,” the Beta tells him, throwing an arm over his shoulder. Jungkook knows he’s right, can smell how his own scent flares as if trying to reach Yoongi from across the group. The desperate vulnerability he feels leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Would it feel something like this, he wonders, if Yoongi were to ever leave him? If one day the elder’s scent fades from his skin? It’d feel a thousand times worse than this, probably. He can’t even comprehend the concept. 

An irritated, near silent groan tumbles from Jungkook’s lips. 

“I don’t like it, hyung,” Jungkook complains. He feels so sentimental—so emotionally drained—already and the evening hasn’t even started. 

Namjoon picks up on his mood drop. The Beta hums sympathetically, rubbing the young Alpha’s shoulder. “I understand that it’s difficult, but try and power through, okay?”

There’s little time for Jungkook to send him a response. The group is lead to a heavy set of double doors, past a series of winding, dimly lit hallways, and before Jungkook knows it, they’re being seated at one of the round tables on the floor before the stage. 

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest as they all take a seat. Because of the curve of the table, Yoongi (who was at the head of the line) is sat a bit past directly across from him, so close yet still way too far. Jungkook pins his eyes to the stage, mentally conditioning himself: don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare

Despite his determination, it’s just not possible for him to completely ignore Yoongi. He can’t help but side eye the elder, fingers curling into loose fists when he notices Yoongi glancing at him in a similar fashion. 

Time passes like that, and Jungkook is nearly jumping out of his skin by the time the award show finally begins. It provides a decent distraction when other idols perform, when awards are given and they clap in congratulations. Yoongi is always there in the back of mind, on the edge of his vision, but he copes, and manages to have a good time. 

They receive their own award, their ARMYs cheering loud for them, and Jungkook musters up the energy to speak into the microphone with a dazzling smile, because even if he’s stressed, his professionalism and gratitude when they’re in front of cameras and their fans comes first. 

The tension in his shoulders lessens significantly when the award show draws to a close. Everyone stands, clapping in celebration. The idols on the floor being to mix and mingle.

Yoongi lingers close to their table, shuffling on his feet and glancing back at the younger. His fingers tangle and untangle in front of him. Someone goes up to the Omega, giving him a half-hug, smiling kindly. Yoongi reciprocates the gesture respectably, falling into conversation, seemingly relaxed and casual, but his fingers rise to rub behind his ear. 

When the person moves on, Yoongi stays rooted in his spot, still rubbing his neck. Jungkook watches as Jimin comes up to the Omega and throws a comforting arm over his shoulders. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the opportunity. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispers urgently, turning to Namjoon—who he’s followed as the Beta goes around bowing and congratulating others—with pleading eyes. 

Namjoon faces him and glances past his shoulder, spotting Yoongi and Jimin, recognizing the Omega’s nervous behavior easily. The Beta meets Jungkook’s gaze and smiles at him, giving him the green light. 

Jungkook shoots forward and pokes his fingers into Namjoon’s dimples. “Thank you,” he says, full of grave sincerity, nodding his head in appreciation. 

Namjoon squeezes his eyes open and closed fondly at the young Alpha’s spike of happiness and excitement, the relief palatable in his scent. “You’re welcome,” the Beta grins, cheeks moving under Jungkook’s fingertips. 

With that, Jungkook spins on his heels and strides in Yoongi and Jimin’s direction, trying his best to seem casual. It’s getting hard to control the bounce in his step, though, as he get closer to the pair, to Yoongi. 

Jimin raises a brow as Jungkook approaches, lips curling up into smirk.

“Oh? What’s this? Who let the dog out?” Jimin teases, eyes crinkling mirthfully. Yoongi looks up at that, eyes widening as Jungkook joins them. 

The elder whacks Jimin on the stomach. It can barely be called a hit, but Jimin lets out an exaggerated wheeze. “Don’t call him a dog,” Yoongi complains in a soft voice.

Jimin puffs his cheeks out, pouting his lips as Jungkook snickers at him, the younger Alpha pulling him into a quick hug.

“Yeah,” he says over Jimin’s shoulder. “You should be nice to me, shortie.”

A grunt leaves Jungkook as Jimin thumps him hard on the back in retaliation. Before Jungkook can get him back, Jimin is pulling out of the hug and reaching for Hoseok, who’s joined their little trio. The two of them chat excitedly, so Jungkook turns to Yoongi.

The elder is already watching him, tiny smile curling his lips. Jungkook moves in, and Yoongi’s mouth parts, shoulders tensing as the younger wraps him in a hug. Yoongi exhales sharply as Jungkook leans down to murmur in his ear. 

Just a bit longer, Jagi.

A small noise escapes Yoongi, the Omega’s hands coming up to pat the small of Jungkook’s back, his fingers digging in ever so slightly. Jungkook’s heart twinges, knowing that neither of them wants to let go. 

It especially aches when Yoongi nods against his shoulder, mumbling out a quiet, “Kook-ah...” 

The elder’s shoulders are still tense. The chatter of idols around them helps keep Jungkook cemented. They’re not alone, so Jungkook steps back, letting his cheek barely graze against Yoongi’s, leaving the softest trace of his scent on the elder, and of Yoongi on himself.

It’s enough, for now. 

They’re guided to the stage for one giant group picture. Jungkook mostly follows Yoongi, giving him the space he needs to maintain his focus, but lingering close by, glancing over the Omega occasionally. Yoongi sticks close to Jin-hyung, and it settles whatever nerves Jungkook may have. Jin is their Pack Alpha; Jin will take care of him. 

It’s a weird, contradicting experience, like forever passes by in a second. Time seems to be trudging so slow, but then suddenly they’re walking off the stage, down those grey hallways, and outside to their cars. Suddenly, Jungkook feels a hand wrap around his wrist, tugging him into their second car and pushing him in the backseat. 

The only thing he registers is Namjoon following in behind them and the door closing before a head full of hair is in his face and a weight is settled on his lap. Nose and lips streak down his neck, and—oh, finally. Finally.  

His throat rumbles so loudly that it’s nearly a snarl, his head falling back against the headrest as Yoongi scents him, the Omega grumbling and muttering to himself about stupid award shows and idiot managers. Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, his knuckles kneading into the thighs bracketing his hips. 

His hands slide up the elder’s thighs, over the curve of his hips to his shirt, bunching up the material in his fingers and untucking it with a single tug. When the shirt is loose from the pants, Jungkook wastes no time in sliding his palms underneath, up Yoongi’s smooth back, petting and rubbing over the skin leisurely. 

Yoongi shivers, a low moan slipping past his lips as he cups the base of Jungkook’s neck and nuzzles his cheek against the Alpha’s jaw. A string of soft noises bubbles from the elder’s throat, needy and almost hurt. Jungkook shushes him gently, soothing his hand up and down the Omega’s spine and raising his chin to reciprocate his nuzzles. 

He wants to press Yoongi to the seat and latch onto his neck—would prefer less clothes between them so he can rescent his Omega more thoroughly—but he can smell Namjoon in the front seat, and the car isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to get it on. 

They lurch gently on the seat as the car takes off, so Jungkook attempts to slide Yoongi off his lap to put them both in their seatbelts. Yoongi makes a noise of complaint, but lets Jungkook place him beside him, pouting as the younger reaches for the seatbelt and pulls in over his chest, buckling it.

Jungkook quickly puts on his own seatbelt before sliding his arm over the elder’s shoulders, angling his body towards him. Yoongi tucks his face in the juncture of the Alpha’s neck and shoulder, taking in calming breaths. 

Their hands find each other naturally, intertwining in Yoongi’s lap. Jungkook leans down, letting his nose press against the Omega’s neck, and finally, their scents are recombined. 

“Well, that was fun,” Yoongi mutters sarcastically, pressing closer to the younger, less frantic now that Jungkook smells like him. 

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head ruefully. He snuffles against the line of the elder’s collar, nose brushing it aside to press a kiss against Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Never again,” he agrees, leaning back to nose along the elder’s cheek. Yoongi looks up at him, cute corners of his mouth turned down in a slight frown. Jungkook clicks his tongue, pressing his mouth against the indents gently. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, the hand wrapped around the Omega coming up to run through his hair. 

Yoongi continues to frown up at him silently. Jungkook picks up a hint of frustration and irritation. Genuine concern floods him, and he straightens up, his own brows furrowing in worry. 

“Yoongi,” he starts, but he’s interrupted. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, so softly that Jungkook barely catches it. When he registers the words, he’s thrown off guard. Shoving down his confusion, Jungkook deflates, meeting the Omega’s hesitant gaze with soft, open eyes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Jungkook asks calmly, tracing a thumb over the elder’s cheek. Yoongi’s lashes flutter as he leans into the touch, his brows crinkling. 

“I-I don’t know, I just,” he struggles, words tumbling out. Jungkook waits patiently, thumb petting his skin softly. Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“I just feel wrong,” he mumbles, voice cracking slightly. It wrenches Jungkook’s heart. “I’m—I’m making no sense, I know. I’m so childish... I’m pathetic.”

A sharp sting of denial stabs Jungkook’s chest, but he tampers it down. He knows the stress of the evening is getting to the elder, added onto what he was already dealing with due to his upcoming heat. Still, he can help but hold Yoongi’s chin up and speak out firmly.

“You are not pathetic.”

Yoongi shrugs, averting his gaze as best as he can. Jungkook glances to the front and sees Namjoon sitting with his headphones plugged in his ears, pointedly staring out the window and bopping his head to the beat. Jungkook looks back to Yoongi, staring at the Omega as he figures out what to say. 

“I feel like that, too,” he decides, nodding seriously when Yoongi glances at him in surprise. “It felt like you were gone. You were right there in front of me, and realistically I knew you love me, but it felt like you were so far away. It makes me nervous, when you don’t smell like me, when I can’t be close to you, or touch you.”

Yoongi listens to him talk with rapt attention, eyes going wide and soft in a way that Jungkook absolutely adores, his lips parted like they always are when he’s focusing or zoned out. Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind Yoongi’s ear. 

“You’re my hyung. I love it when you take care of me, and teach me new things, and help me. I look up to you so much.” 

Jungkook leans closer, their noses brushing. Yoongi inhales sharply.

“But you’re more than that. I don’t want our bond to be just that of a hyung and dongsaeng. You’re my partner, my equal. Right?” Jungkook nuzzles their noses together, lips quirking in a grin when Yoongi nods quickly. 

“... Of course, Kook-ah,” the elder assures, hands raising to cling onto the lapels of Jungkook’s suit jacket. 

Jungkook lifts his chin to press a light kiss to the tip of the elder’s nose. “Then, just like I need you in a lot of ways, it’s okay to need me, too. You can be childish sometimes. It’s not pathetic or helpless. We love each other, hyung, and we should take care of the ones we love.”

The tension has drained from Yoongi as Jungkook speaks to him, and once he finishes his spiel, the elder watches him with fond eyes. 

“When did you get so good with words?” Yoongi smiles, gums on display.

Pride fills Jungkook at pleasing the elder, his own lips pressing together in an attempt to quell his smug, accomplished smile. 

“I learned from the best,” he hums, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck to hug him close. “From Namjoon-hyung, obviously.”

Yoongi snorts—Jungkook definitely has that right. Namjoon has certain a way with words—and returns the embrace, hugging the younger’s waist. It makes the Alpha sigh happily, leaning even closer. “You’re the best,” Yoongi counters. “You’re amazing. So wonderful. I love you.”

Jungkook giggles, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling in mirth. “Oh, that’s good, keep it going,” he teases, rubbing his cheek against the elder’s head obnoxiously. Yoongi just scoffs and rests against him, closing his eyes.

It’s more than good, the way it feels when Yoongi speaks so highly of him. There’s something special about making his hyungs proud, but when it comes from Yoongi especially—Jungkook feels he could swim the entire Pacific Ocean and back, and still have energy left over.

When Yoongi’s impressed with him, praises him; Jungkook can get high off the feeling. He’s on cloud nine, can feel himself getting jittery with giddiness in his seat, his Alpha absolutely preening at leaving a good impression on his Omega, at receiving compliments from him. 

Yoongi drifts off against him, exhausted from the stress of the evening, added to the usual drain of being surrounded by people for so long. Jungkook does his best to stay still, fingers carding gently through the elder’s styled hair, tousling the slightly curled locks. 

Jungkook takes the time to glance around, recognizing the street the car drives down, which is only a few blocks away from their dorm. They’re nearly home. A soft, relieved sigh slips past his lips as his head lolls to rest against Yoongi’s.

His eyes land on the front of the car, catching Namjoon’s through the rear view mirror. The Beta raises a questioning brow. Jungkook nods, his arms curling a bit tighter around Yoongi. Namjoon’s lips stretch into a proud smile, and he returns Jungkook’s nod, pleased look in his eyes. 

Jungkook blinks, his own eyes widening. Then, a short huff of a laugh escapes him as his face breaks into a wide, beaming grin. 

He’s happy. He feels like he’s done a good job. 

 


 

Yoongi’s never liked overly sweet things. The others tease him for his ‘grandpa’ tastes; he prefers the slight bitter tang of coffee and he eats kind of tastelessly, because eating, for him, is a requirement, not an experience. Though, that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate good food. 

(And really, he’s not that much of a grandpa. Jimin acts more elderly than him when there’s no cameras around.)

But in the past few days, he’s noticed a slight shift in his palate. A craving for things he doesn’t necessarily dislike, but certainly didn’t feel the need to eat often. 

Bubble tea, for example. Bubble tea and ice cream. 

Maybe it’s the cutesy aesthetic he craves, after all, he’s had milk tea before. But bubble tea comes in those plastic cups with the sealed covering that has cute characters printed on it, with those thick pastel straws to poke through it. 

It fills him with a strange amount of satisfaction as he does just that, sat on a wooden bench at the park near their dorm. There’s a cartoon panda smiling up at him from the lid of his tea, and he can feel the corners of his mouth tilt up in return. 

There’s just something about holding bubble tea that makes him feel happy. 

A body slumps down next to him on the park bench. A low grunt leaves Yoongi as weight leans heavily against his side. 

“Hyung,” Taehyung mumbles, still sort of half-asleep. “Do you want to go back to the dorm yet...?”

Their dorm is empty. Taehyung was the only one home with him; Seokjin stayed late at the studio with the dance line for extra practice, and Namjoon has a meeting with their managers. It’s late, almost midnight, though that doesn’t mean much to them. 

Seokjin (and Jungkook) warned him against going out late on his own—he’s too close to his heat—but Taehyung seems to have been trying to get a full night’s sleep for once, and Yoongi feels guilty for making him come out just to fulfill his needless cravings. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologizes, smile falling off his face, concern taking its place. “We can go back. Do you want to go back?”

He’s trying to rise up from the bench, struggling against Taehyung’s weight, but the younger slides his arm over Yoongi’s shoulders, keeping him still on the bench. 

“It’s okay, hyung,” he assuages, resting his head on the elder and closing his eyes with a soft sigh. “I’d rather sleep on this bench than let you go out alone. The others would skin me. I would skin me.”

Yoongi snorts, easing back into the bench, taking a long sip of his tea. “I’m a grown man,” he grumbles around his straw. “I could’ve ran out for some bubble tea on my own.”

Taehyung shushes him. “That’s how stuff happens, hyung. It’s fine, I’m fine, just drink your tea and let me cuddle you.” The Alpha emphasizes his statement by shifting closer to Yoongi, nuzzling the side of the elder’s head affectionately. 

“So,” Taehyung begins after a few quiet minutes. Yoongi can hear the grin in his voice, wariness shooting up by a thousand degrees. “How are you and Kookie?”

There’s an awkward mix of emotion inside his chest. Yoongi is torn between exasperated groaning and flustered giggling. He settles for snorting out a huff of air, half-laugh and half-sigh. Contempt and giddiness rolled into one. 

“We’re good,” he mumbles honestly. He’d never be able to deny how Jungkook makes him feel. “Really good. I’m happy.”

Taehyung lets out a blissful, dreamy sigh. He’s a romantic, Yoongi knows. “That’s so great, hyung. That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you two,” he beams, and Yoongi doesn’t need to look at him to know that his sincerity is plastered all over his face.

“Thank you, Tae-yah,” Yoongi smiles, turning his head to face the younger. “We’re lucky to have such a supportive pack.”

Taehyung smiles, humming happily, his feet tapping on the ground as he sits with Yoongi. “What a relief, huh?” He teases, nudging Yoongi with his elbow, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Yoongi laughs, his breath visible in the cold night air. “Yeah.”

They sit for a bit longer. Taehyung talks to him about Yeotan as Yoongi goes through his bubble tea. When he’s a little over halfway finished with the drink, a quiet buzzing interrupts the younger’s story about the time his little sister almost fed the dog chocolate ice cream.

Taehyung makes a surprised noise, hand digging around in his pocket. Yoongi watches curiously as the younger pulls out his cellphone, catching Jimin’s name flashing across the screen before the phone is raised to Taehyung’s ear.

“Yes?” Taehyung hums into the phone, glancing to Yoongi as he listens to whatever Jimin says. “Yeah, we’re at the park right now. Oh? Okay, sure. Love you, Jiminie,” he croons into the speaker, overtly sweet, giggling at whatever cheesy response Jimin comes up with. 

Yoongi raises a curious brow, sipping from his bubble tea. Taehyung puts his phone back in his pocket. 

“They’re home,” Taehyung explains, scooting closer to the Omega. “Jimin, Kookie, Hobi, and Jin. Namjoon’s still caught up at the company, but Jimin said he’d be coming home soon, too.”

They’re home... huh. Yoongi tries to keep a nonchalant expression, sipping a bit more aggressively from his straw. He avoids Taehyung’s gaze, staring down at the pavement. Taehyung smirks at him, amused. 

“You’re kind of obvious, hyung.” Taehyung teases him. “What? You want to go back now?”

Yoongi’s eyes dart to him, narrowed. “I didn’t say that,” he mutters. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

Taehyung giggles into his hand. “It’s all over your face, hyungie. Your eyes did the thing.”

What? Yoongi frowns, staring at the younger in confusion. 

“If I tell you, you’ll stop doing it” Taehyung sighs, waving his hand around in dismissal. The Alpha stretches out his legs with a grunt, removing his arm from around the Omega and patting his thighs as he stands. He holds a hand out to Yoongi. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Yoongi scoffs, but the corners of his mouth tilt up in a grin. “Well, since you’re so desperate,” he snarks as he rises to his feet, reaching out to hold the younger’s hand. 

The Alpha just nods, playing along easily as he leads them home. “I just miss them so much, hyung. There’s five little holes in my heart, and it hurts.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but can’t help the chuckle that slips past his lips. 

The walk home is quick. They really don’t live very far from the park, so it’s only a matter of minutes before they’re making their way inside to the elevators, and only a few more pass by the time they’re at their front door, Hoseok letting them in with a tired smile and wet hair. 

Taehyung and Yoongi deposit their jackets at the entryway, slipping their shoes off quietly. There’s a mouthwatering scent coming from the kitchen that Taehyung immediately follows—Seokjin and Jimin cooking, most likely. Yoongi follows Hoseok as the younger heads back into the living room, where he’d been watching a movie. 

“Where’s Kook?” Yoongi asks, glancing around. 

Hoseok throws himself on the couch, turning onto his side and propping his head on his palm. “Should be in the shower now,” he provides, covering his mouth as a long yawn hits him. 

“Okay, thanks.” Yoongi turns back around and heads down the hallway towards the bedrooms. He knows which shower Jungkook prefers to use, so he heads to that bathroom, slipping inside quietly. 

He can hear Jungkook singing softly from behind the wall the separates the shower area from the rest of the bathroom. His voice echoes off the walls, reverberating in the room. It sounds so pretty. Yoongi feels himself smile as he sets his now empty bubble tea on the counter and begins pulling off his clothes, letting them pool at his ankles.  

Yoongi lets out a gentle, “Jungkook-ah,” to alert the younger of his presence. 

The singing cuts off. 

“You surprised me,” Jungkook laughs. His head pops out from around the corner of the wall, mouth opening to speak more, but he falters when he finds Yoongi slipping off his jeans.

Jungkook stares as Yoongi makes his way to the shower, fully unclothed. Yoongi can almost feel the Alpha’s gaze trail along his body, as if his fingertips brush every spot he traces with his eyes. It’s nice; he likes when Jungkook looks at him. 

He laughs a little when Jungkook hurries to stumble back as Yoongi turns the corner of the wall, stepping closer to the Alpha until he can feel the spray of the water over his shoulder. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath when Yoongi keeps walking forward until his face is pressed against Jungkook’s wet shoulder.

Yoongi sighs, and brings up his arms to wrap around Jungkook’s waist. The spray of the water hits his arms as well as Jungkook’s back. The Alpha is warm, the water is warm. The shower fills the tiled bathroom with white noise. Yoongi lets his eyes flutter shut, completely relaxed.

Jungkook’s arms slide around his shoulders, slippery and smooth. Yoongi shivers as he feels the water from the Alpha’s arms drip down his back. Jungkook dips his head down to trace his lips along the curve of the Omega’s shoulder, kissing him serenely. 

A low, appreciative hum vibrates Yoongi’s chest. He lifts his hands to glide over Jungkook’s back, rubbing over his shoulder blades, down to his hips, and back up again, massaging him along with the spray of the water. 

A tiny smile curls Yoongi’s lips when he feels the vibrations under his cheek—Jungkook’s throat rumbling happily. The Alpha turns them gently, so they’re both under the shower, making sure it isn’t spraying into Yoongi’s face. His hands curl around the nape of the elder’s neck, rubbing and digging in gently. 

“Have you washed your hair yet?” Even though he speaks quietly, Yoongi feels like his voice is too loud in the gentle rain-like ambience of the bathroom. 

Jungkook nods, his hands sliding across the elder’s shoulders. “I’m done. I was about to get out, actually. Before you came in.”

Yoongi moves back a bit to pout up at him. “Oh... I wanted to help you.”

There’s a fond sparkle in Jungkook’s eyes. “Next time, Jagi,” he promises, raising a wet hand to brush the hair from Yoongi’s eyes. “How about I wash you?”

Yoongi smiles softly, leaning into his touch. He raises his chin, puckering his lips. Jungkook grins and ducks down to meet them, humming happily as he kisses the Omega. 

“That’s sounds nice,” Yoongi mumbles against the Alpha’s mouth. “Yes, please...”

Jungkook smiles, pursing his lips to kiss the Omega once more. He turns them slowly, until Yoongi can feel the water against his back. Jungkook’s hands slide to the nape of his neck, his fingers threading through the hair there. He tugs gently. 

“Chin up,” he whispers, pressing fleeting kisses against the line of the elder’s jaw, up to his ear. 

Yoongi tilts his head back, eyes closing as the water slowly soaks his hair, the spray ending just at the top of his forehead. Jungkook noses down the Omega’s exposed neck as his fingers begin to massage their way up Yoongi’s scalp.

One of his hands comes up the side of Yoongi’s neck. The Omega’s lips part in a silent gasp as Jungkook’s wet palm touches his forehead, a few stray drops running into his lashes as the younger brushes back his hair from his face with his fingers. 

Yoongi’s eyes flutter open when Jungkook’s hands leave his hair, a small noise of discontent leaving him. He finds Jungkook squeezing out some of his own shampoo onto his palm. The Alpha deposits the shampoo bottle on the shelf in the shower, and uses the free hand to pull Yoongi forward a few inches. 

Jungkook’s hands find his hair again, lathering up the strands with the coconut scented shampoo. Despite his instincts telling him to keep his eyes closed in case any shampoo slides down his forehead, Yoongi pries them open to stare up at Jungkook, who’s own gaze bores into his. 

They hold the eye contact as Jungkook steps them back into the water, rinsing the shampoo from the Omega’s hair. He repeats the process similarly, though with conditioner the second time. His movements are slow and gentle, washing the elder cautiously, making sure no soap gets in his eyes.

When the younger begins to wash his body, Yoongi tries his best to steady his breathing. It’d be a lie to deny that Jungkook’s hands on his body affects him, and Jungkook’s eyes are dark and heady, lips parted and pupils dilated as he stares down at the Omega, so it’s not like his touches have absolutely no intent behind them either.  

But he enjoys the simple intimacy with Jungkook. There’s potential for more; Yoongi can feel it, can see that Jungkook feels it. However, he’s in no rush. This is nice. This is sweet. Whether or not it delves into more, Yoongi is happy.

He decides to go with the flow and lets Jungkook take the reins.  

 

Maybe Jungkook senses the shift, sees it in how Yoongi leans closer to him and closes his eyes with a soft sigh, in how he tilts his head to the side, exposing the line of his neck to the Alpha easily. Whatever, it is, Jungkook picks up on the elder’s trusting submission. 

The Alpha beams. Then, that wide, bunny grin slips into something more dangerous. A smoldering smirk that has Yoongi baring his neck more urgently, instinct lighting up within him in response to the Alpha’s dark, molten gaze. 

Jungkook sidles impossibly closer, until their chests are firmly pressed together, his arm winding around the Omega’s waist securely. His other hand returns to Yoongi’s hair, keeping the elder’s neck bared as he leans down to hover over the exposed scent gland. 

Yoongi shivers as the Alpha’s mouth parts and his breath fans over his neck, its warmth emphasized by the water coating his skin. The elder’s hands grip onto Jungkook’s shoulders before slowly sliding up to loosely wrap around the Alpha’s neck. 

A quiet gasp slips past his lips as Jungkook’s mouth closes over his scent gland, his arms tightening around the younger and his fingers threading into his dark, damp hair. Yoongi breathes in soft pants that hit the Alpha’s shoulder as he sucks, tongue and teeth pulling blood under the surface of the Omega’s neck, unrelenting until there’s a light pink mark that’ll darken in time. 

Jungkook continues to stamp kisses and bites down the length of his neck. Yoongi presses closer, feels his gut tighten and his blood rush, and as Jungkook leans his head down to latch onto his shoulder, he uses the opportunity to mouth along the Alpha’s own neck, dragging his tongue down the skin until he finds Jungkook’s scent gland.

A low moan vibrates his throat. Jungkook’s scent is so strong, he can taste it, heady and thick on his tongue. He can feel the Alpha’s throat rumbling under his lips. Heat sears down his back as Jungkook’s hands glide down his skin until his palms are flush against the Omega’s ass, fingers bruising as they dig into the muscle there. On instinct, Yoongi’s leg hitches, raising a scant few inches up Jungkook’s own. It slips against the Alpha’s wet skin, falling back down to the floor, a failed attempt. 

Jungkook huffs a quiet laugh, squeezing the elder’s ass in his hands. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Won’t carry you here,” the Alpha murmurs. He moves up to lick at the shell of Yoongi’s ear. “‘s dangerous.”

Yoongi lets out a soft noise as Jungkook sucks on the lobe of his ear, his head twitching to the side at the ticklish sensation. He tries again to hitch his leg over the younger’s hip, hugging him tighter, wanting him closer. Yoongi pushes his hips forward, mouth slack as he feels himself half-hard against the Alpha, feels Jungkook in a similar state against his own lower stomach. 

Jungkook sighs blissfully, hands firm on Yoongi’s ass, encouraging the Omega’s subtle grinds. Yoongi’s leg is still sliding up and down his outer thigh, trying to find purchase on his hip. It makes Jungkook smirk in amusement, face pressed against the side of Yoongi’s head. 

Deciding to help his Omega out, he lets his hand slide down to the elder’s thigh, hoisting Yoongi’s leg over his hip at the same time that he steps them back. 

The shower wall is a cold shock to Yoongi’s back. He gasps, arching against the wall, but then Jungkook is pressing in close, his chest pushing him back against the cool tile, preventing him from leaning forward. Yoongi squirms, the dual sensations of Jungkook’s heat against his front and the cold wall against his back making his mouth hang open. 

He’s stretched on his toes, nearly completely off his feet as Jungkook’s weight presses him up against the wall. So much for not being carried. 

The younger breathes heavy against his ear, his lips trailing down Yoongi’s jawline to the tip of his chin. He releases the elder’s skin with a soft pop, hovering over his lips tantalizingly. The Alpha’s hips roll forward, the heat of his now fully hard dick against Yoongi’s own making the Omega’s lashes flutter. 

A desperate ache fills Yoongi’s gut—a desire so sharp and sudden that he uses the hand twined in Jungkook’s hair to yank the younger down, surging up at the same time to crash his lips onto the other’s, mouth already parted to lick over Jungkook’s lips pleadingly. Jungkook lets out a mix of a moan and a growl, his hands impossibly tight on Yoongi’s skin as he matches the Omega’s fervor, opening his mouth immediately. 

Their tongues tangle, mouths making wet clicks as they separate and come back together repeatedly. Yoongi breathes heavy against Jungkook’s lips, chest jumping and hitching with silent noises as their hips begin moving together, the slow, hard grind made easier by the slick of the water between them.

It doesn’t feel enough. The water is starting to grow lukewarm, and their skin is pruned from over-hydration. The cold of the tile wall against his back becomes uncomfortable, sending small tremors down Yoongi’s spine. He’s unable to ignore it any longer. 

The Omega whines, pushing closer to Jungkook, mumbling against his mouth pitifully, “Kook-ah...”

Jungkook makes a questioning noise, breaking off from the kiss. He stares at Yoongi in concern, though his eyes are still dark and lustful. It’s hard to find words with the Alpha looking at him like that, his hot breaths hitting his face, his hips still rotating torturously against the elder’s. 

Noticing Yoongi’s struggle, Jungkook lets up a little, pausing his hips and loosening his bruising grip on the Omega’s thigh and ass. Able to think a bit clearer, Yoongi lets out a unhappy noise. 

“‘m cold...” Once spoken, it’s like the sensation is emphasized—more obvious and incessant. Yoongi can’t help the slight chatter of his teeth; he’s always been susceptible to the cold, more affected by it than the others. He clings onto Jungkook. “I’m c-cold, Kook-ah.”

Jungkook’s parted lips fall open in realization, his eyes widening. A gentle, apologetic coo falls from his lips as he clicks his tongue, immediately pulling the elder away from the wall. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down the Omega’s chilled back. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Yoongi nods quietly. With that, Jungkook turns and moves away to shut off the water. The loss of the younger’s heat makes Yoongi pout, arms wrapping around himself protectively. He shivers. The bathroom feels colder without the warmth of the water, of Jungkook. 

Jungkook comes back to him, leading him from the shower area into the bathroom, quickly pulling off a fluffy purple towel from the rack and wrapping it around the Omega, using it to rub Yoongi’s hair before settling it across his shoulders. Yoongi watches, lips quirked amusedly, as Jungkook rushes through drying himself, messily wrapping his towel around his waist. 

He scoops up their clothes (and tosses the empty bubble tea in the trash) and makes his way back to Yoongi, gripping the elder’s hand and leading him from the bathroom to the younger’s bedroom. 

The Alpha leads him inside and closes the door behind them, sitting Yoongi on his bed as he dumps their used clothes in a laundry hamper. When Jungkook goes to his drawers and begins to ruffle through on of them, Yoongi notices the water dripping down his back 

Yoongi clicks his tongue. Jungkook is going to catch a cold if he doesn't dry his hair properly. Rising from the bed, Yoongi shuffles over to Jungkook just as the younger turns with a pair of sweatpants in his hand. 

“These should fit you—oh!” Jungkook sounds surprised at Yoongi’s quiet approach, but he doesn’t flinch or jump. “Yoongi—”

The Omega doesn’t give him the time to talk, gripping the Alpha’s elbow and pulling him to the bed. Jungkook makes a noise of confusion as Yoongi pushes him to sit at the edge of the mattress, his eyes widening as Yoongi proceeds to straddle his thighs. Yoongi removes the towel from his body. 

Jungkook’s eyes trail up and down Yoongi’s bare skin shamelessly. He opens his mouth to speak when Yoongi drapes the towel over his head and begins to rub at his hair gently. 

“It’s almost winter,” Yoongi scolds quietly. “You’ll catch a cold, dummy.” 

Jungkook pouts, his hands coming up to rest on Yoongi’s thighs. “I was more worried about you,” he defends himself. 

“Well, now I’m worried about you,” Yoongi counters, removing the towel when the younger’s hair is no longer dripping. He nods to himself in satisfaction. He removes the towel, eyes darting away when it reveals Jungkook smiling fondly at him, eyes sparkling. 

“But it’s okay, because—” Yoongi hesitates, averting his gaze down to the towel in his hands. He peers up at Jungkook through his lashes shyly. “You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

Jungkook’s lips spread into a pleased grin. “Yeah,” he agrees happily, rubbing circles into Yoongi’s hips. 

Then, his grin grows sharper—feral, almost—in a way that gives Yoongi whiplash and deja vu all at once. Jungkook’s hands tighten on his hips, pulling the Omega down. As Yoongi feels his weight settle on Jungkook’s thighs, he remembers the fact that both he and Jungkook are indeed half-hard, with only a towel between them. 

“Jungkook,” he breathes. 

“You’ll keep me warm, right Jagi?” Jungkook murmurs, his hands sliding up the Omega’s sides as he presses a kiss against Yoongi’s jaw. 

Yoongi’s mouth falls open with a sharp exhale as he feels Jungkook buck slowly under him, feels him through the towel. “Uh—uhuh...”

With a pleased hum, Jungkook grips underneath Yoongi’s thighs. In a show of strength and agility that has Yoongi’s mouth watering, Jungkook turns and raises onto his knees with Yoongi in his arms, shuffling up the mattress to lay the elder against the pillows, letting his weight land on top of the Omega.

Yoongi gasps as Jungkook tugs the towel off his waist and lowers down, his elbows on either side of the Omega’s head. The younger’s hips rest against his, but the Alpha doesn’t move—just stares down at him with pupils blown wide. 

It’s unfair how effortlessly Jungkook is able to wind him up. Yoongi bites back a frustrated whine as he spreads his legs as much as he’s able, digs his heels into the blankets, and tries to buck his hips up, but Jungkook just presses him further into the mattress, pinning him to the bed. 

Jungkook just licks his lips, relishing in the way his gut clenches at the needy look on Yoongi’s face. At the flush on his cheeks and the glazed look in his eyes. 

“Beautiful...” the Alpha murmurs, raising a hand to sweep his thumb across Yoongi’s cheek. The Omega’s lashes flutter, leaning into his touch desperately. “So pretty, baby.”

Yoongi moans softly as Jungkook ducks down to mouth at his scent gland. There’s the tiniest hint of preheat in his scent, making it much richer than usual, sweeter, more tantalizing and tempting. It’s so hard for the Alpha to resist touching him, when he smells like this.

And Jungkook is his own brand of tempting, as well. One breath of his scent has Yoongi throwing his head back to bare his neck, a low, pleading whine tearing from his chest. 

Jungkook growls, finally lets his hips jerk hard and quick against Yoongi’s, chest rumbling deeper as the Omega whines and twitches under him, his legs raising to wrap around the Alpha’s waist, nails digging into his back—so, so sensitive. 

“Gonna let Alpha take care of you?” Jungkook rasps into his ear, voice husky and strained. 

“Yeah. Yes, Kook-ah, yes,” Yoongi breathes, chest arching up into Jungkook. His heart is racing in his chest, pounding so hard he thinks it might explode. The entire region between his legs aches; his hard dick, his slicked entrance. He’s so close to his heat. Everything feels like too much. 

Jungkook moans against Yoongi’s neck, back curling as his hips hitch, the skin between them becoming wet and sticky with precome. Yoongi clutches onto him, panting as he does his best to match the younger’s grinds. Jungkook is hot (in all senses of the word) above him, and Yoongi wants him. 

He wants him so badly. 

It builds quickly, the sensation in his lower gut. Quicker than he can keep up with. Jungkook has that power over him. That’s his influence on Yoongi. Everything is not enough, until suddenly, it’s too much, and he’s whining high in his throat, wishing it could last longer, but he can’t seem to stop the desperate jerking of his hips. He doesn’t want to stop, doesn't ever want to stop. 

It’s with a whimpered, strangled form of Jungkook’s name, with his head thrown back and brows furrowed, with Jungkook’s teeth biting into the crook of his neck (bruising, but not enough to break skin). His body shudders, back arching and legs squeezing around Jungkook’s hips, which speed up as the Alpha moans muffled against his neck. 

His fingers scrape against Jungkook’s skin as he squirms in overstimulation, the Alpha’s name stuttered on his tongue—pleading, begging. Jungkook moves back, and in a blur of movement, Yoongi finds himself flipped onto his stomach, knees spread almost painfully on the sheets as Jungkook sprawls over his back and grinds down hard against his ass. 

Yoongi hiccups, trying to shift higher on his knees, but Jungkook’s strong thrusts keep his hips down low against the mattress, his thighs stretching strenuously. The Alpha’s cock slides between his cheeks, aided by the wet warmth of the Omega’s slick. 

“O-Oh, fuck,” Yoongi gasps as the head of Jungkook’s dick catches on his entrance. 

Jungkook’s palms land on the back of his hands, intertwining his fingers with Yoongi’s on either side of the Omega’s head. 

“Yoongi,” he pants against the back of the elder’s neck, moaning loudly. “Fuck, Yoongi, please—”

Jungkook cuts himself off, lurching forward to close his teeth around the nape of Yoongi’s neck, possessive growl bubbling low in his chest. His hips stutter, back stiff, and then he’s releasing against the Omega’s ass.  

Yoongi jolts, keening as he digs his head into the pillows, still baring his neck for the Alpha as he rides out his orgasm against the elder, hips still rocking gently. Yoongi can feel the younger’s cum slide down his thighs and to the space just behind his balls. He shivers, making small noises in the back of his throat, shifting on his knees. 

Jungkook moans softly as Yoongi’s ass rubs back against him. He unlatches his teeth from the elder’s nape, licking over the indents soothingly. 

“Yoongi,” he sighs, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck sweetly. He shifts his knees back, rolling them onto their sides, leaning over the Omega to nose at his cheek. “My Yoongi-yah...”

Yoongi breathes in deeply, eyelids fluttering as he sinks into Jungkook’s hold, a bone deep relaxation making him blink sleepily. He hums and brings one of Jungkook’s hands to his mouth, kissing the knuckles softly. 

“That shower was completely useless,” he laments, voice raspy and words slurred. 

Jungkook laughs. Rather than turn the Omega, who’s already melded into the mattress, he clambers over the elder’s side, literally rolling over Yoongi so he can face him. 

“I should change my sheets, too.” Jungkook scrunches his nose, shuffling down to tuck his face under Yoongi’s chin, throwing an arm over his side. “But I’m lazy, and I don’t want to.” He lowers his hand to pat the elder’s ass. “I like you like this, anyhow.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, knowing what he means. “You’re gross,” he complains, sliding his leg over the younger’s waist, wincing when he already feels the sore pull in his muscles. 

Jungkook shrugs, not denying it. He leaves his hand on Yoongi’s ass, tracing his skin idly. 

“Don’t you want to go eat?” Yoongi asks softly, using his fingers to brush the hair behind Jungkook’s ear. “Jin-hyung was cooking.”

Jungkook groans lightly. “I want to, but we can’t go out there. We have to wait at least thirty minutes.”

“What?” Yoongi blinks, frowning in confusion. “Why?”

The Alpha leans back, staring up at him with a playfully stern expression. Jungkook raises a hand to caress the elder’s cheek, taking in a slow breath.

“You still looked fucked out, baby,” he teases, grinning wickedly. 

Yoongi hisses, lunging forward to nip the tip of Jungkook’s nose. The younger giggles evilly, jerking out of his reach. 

“Says you,” Yoongi grouses, pouting at him. 

Says him. Jungkook’s face is flushed, cheeks splotted pink. There’s a light sheen coating his forehead. His lips are swollen and red, his dark hair tousled and his eyes wide and shining. He’s... attractive. Yoongi tries not to think about it too much; he’s too tired for round two. 

“They know anyways,” he adds on in a mutter, because really, the two of them are not discreet when they’re at home. “You’re hungry, so let’s just go.”

Jungkook shakes his head sadly, lips pressed together. “That’s a no from me, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Why not?” Yoongi is on the verge of whining. His Omega is fixated on the fact that Jungkook is hungry. “They’re pack, you brat, not a threat.”

“Hm... Don’t care!” Jungkook sings, smiling brightly. “Only Jeon Jungkook is allowed to see Min Yoongi when he looks like this. So we’ll wait, and that’s that.”

Yoongi groans, trying to shove the younger away, but Jungkook just clings onto him, giggling. “You’re such an Alpha. Why do I even like you?”

Jungkook surges up, hovering over him with dark eyes. “Want me to remind you?” The Alpha murmurs, his voice low and seductive, nose brushing Yoongi’s. 

His fingers trace down the elder’s side, barely touching the skin. Yoongi swallows thickly, whimper getting stuck in the back of his throat, goosebumps raising on his skin as he blinks wide-eyed. 

Then, just as sudden, Jungkook moves back, pursing his lips and batting his lashes. “It’s because I’m so cute!”

Yoongi breathes shakily, shoving weakly at the Alpha’s shoulders. “Y-You’re scary. Get away.”

Jungkook cackles, doing the exact opposite and cuddling closer to the Omega, making cutesy facial expressions at him. 

“Stop,” Yoongi whines, ignoring the ache in his thighs to kick at the younger. “No aegyo!”

When Jungkook doesn’t stop making those high-pitched, Hobi-esque noises, Yoongi rolls away and tries to crawl from the bed. His sudden scramble catches Jungkook by surprise, and he nearly makes it off the mattress before a hand clamps down on his ankle and drags him back. 

“No!” Yoongi squeals, screaming dramatically as Jungkook pounces on him. He reaches a hand for the bedroom door, yelling out as loud as he can, “Save me!”

“No, thank you!” A voice shouts from somewhere in the dorm. It sounds like Seokjin. 

Jungkook laughs triumphantly, loud and euphoric as he begins tickling the elder, face scrunched up with the strength of his smile. Yoongi screams, fighting him off with his own tickles, laughter bubbling out of his chest. 

The door slams open suddenly.

“Yoongi-hyung, I’m here! Oh, wow, you’re naked!”

Jungkook curses, lunging for his blanket at throwing it completely over them, encasing them in darkness. Normally, Yoongi would be just as frantic, but all he can do is replay what he just saw in his mind. 

Taehyung, dressed to the nines in his Tata pajamas, pink bow headband pushing his hair back, bright aquamarine face mask on his face as he wields a toy light saber that lights up red and makes that telltale light saber sound affect. 

“Jimin, abort mission!” Taehyung calls, running from the room, slamming the door closed behind him. “Put the maracas away!” 

They hear a short rattle—maracas being lowered in disappointment—and Jimin’s muffled, “Aw, man,” from behind the door.

Jungkook is on top of him, hissing out a mix of laughter and curses. They’re completely hidden under a blanket, there’s an unpleasant stickiness between his legs, and Taehyung just saw him butt-naked, seconds before Jimin would’ve, too. 

Yoongi can’t stop giggling. 

 


 

Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to put into words just how grateful he is to his hyungs. He’s tried, and while those words come out nicely, there’s always something off—just shy of missing. There’s an emotion he can recognize, but simply cannot describe. 

He supposes it’s some mix of love, devotion, and admiration. 

And slightly above it all is the one person who Jungkook really feels he owes everything to. After all, if it weren’t for Namjoon-hyung, he would have never been part of Bangtan; he’d have chosen some other company, and lived some other life. If it weren’t for Namjoon-hyung, he’d never have met the others.

Taehyung, who brought him out of his timid shell and plays with him. Jimin, who takes care of him and puts up with his teasing. Hoseok, who smothers him with affection and kisses. Seokjin, who treats him as a real younger brother and bickers and play-fights with him.

Yoongi. His beloved Omega, who teaches him and guides him, who tolerates him and is endlessly patient with him, who spoils him and loves him. Jungkook wants to reciprocate everything back to him, and more. And he will. He has the chance to. 

It’s all thanks to Namjoon-hyung. (And his glorious thighs, but well—)

There’s no one word to describe what Namjoon is to him; a hyung, a friend, a pack mate, a mentor, a role model. Jungkook just knows that he’d undoubtedly follow the Beta to the ends of the earth, and that the rest of the pack feels exactly the same, because Namjoon, he—He does so much for them. 

It’s astounding, really. Namjoon is.

There’s two extremely impactful decisions Jungkook has made in his life. One, to leave Busan and his family to chase his dream. Two, to become a part of the pack that is Bangtan, because these six men are it: his forever family. 

Now, he’s coming up on his third major, life-altering decision. Well, he’s made the decision already, but now he’ll begin to act on it.

The first thing he does is find Namjoon. 

It’s some early time in the morning. Jungkook unwraps himself from Yoongi and climbs out of bed (though not before pressing a multitude of kisses to the elder’s sleep-slack cheeks), and pads across the dorm in search of the Beta. 

There’s a stack of suitcases near the entryway. Jungkook pauses, staring at it as he gets lost in thought, eyes glazing over when he remembers why they’re there. 

They have a week long break for the duration of Yoongi’s heat, which will hit sometime within the next handful of days. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin will be traveling to Jeju Island, and Taehyung will be visiting his home in Daegu. There’s no need for them to travel so far, but Yoongi did kindly ask for them to stay away from the dorm, and Jungkook couldn’t agree more. 

He’s excited—nervous as well, but mostly excited. For roughly three days, he’ll have nothing to worry about except taking care of Yoongi. And not even that worries him; he’s ready to be a good Alpha for the elder. 

He’s ready to be Yoongi’s Alpha. 

He spots Hoseok and Seokjin sitting together in the living room, an old episode of Running Man playing on the screen of their television. They call tired greetings out to him as he pokes his head in, in search of Namjoon, and he waves back at them silently. 

The kitchen light is on, so Jungkook heads there next. He can hear the quiet clinking of a spoon against a glass bowl, and when he enters he finds Taehyung and Jimin sharing a chair; the younger leans over a bowl of cereal, sat at the edge of the seat as Jimin hugs him from behind. He looks like he’s almost falling out of the chair, but Jimin’s arms are wrapped around his waist securely. 

“Morning, Kookie!” Taehyung looks up at him with a bright smile; he’s always been an early riser. Jimin blinks at him over Taehyung’s shoulder, decidedly more sleepy, mumbling out a ‘good morning.’

Jungkook nods, pausing to grab a banana milk from the fridge. He approaches the table as he twists it open, the lid making a loud snap. “Have you seen Joon-hyung?”  

“In his room,” Jimin provides, hooking his chin over Taehyung’s shoulder. The younger Alpha nods in affirmation. “Said he was working on some lyrics.”

“Why?” Taehyung wonders, lifting a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Jimin also watches him curiously. “What’s up?”

In order to buy himself some time—and to better school his expression—Jungkook raises his banana milk to his mouth and throws it back, chugging it down. There’s a low, impressed whistle from Taehyung as Jungkook finishes it in under a minute. 

“I think that’s a new record,” Taehyung teases, waggling his spoon at the youngest. 

Jimin snorts, shaking his head. “Now,” he demands, before his tone turns more questioning. “Tell us what’s going on?”

A laugh stutters out of Jungkook; he can’t help it. The corners of his mouth turn up as he dumps his empty banana milk in the trash. “You’ll have to wait and find out,” he sings, strolling out of the kitchen as Jimin scoffs and Taehyung whines for him to come back. 

Namjoon’s bedroom door is open. Jungkook can see him sprawled across his bed on his stomach, typing on his phone, but he knocks on the doorframe anyways. The Beta looks up in surprise, a brow arching. 

“Jungkook, you’re up,” he says, blinking once. 

Jungkook laughs, entering the room and closing the door softly behind him. “I am,” he agrees. 

Everyone thinks Yoongi’s the hardest to wake up, but he’s really not. He’s a light sleeper; he wakes quickly but takes time to actually get up. All he needs is some cuddles and pats, and he rouses slowly but surely. Jungkook, however—his members could scream in his ear all at once and he wouldn’t even flinch. 

Namjoon shifts to sit up on his bed, pocketing his phone and patting the space beside him. Jungkook jumps down easily, laying back against the mattress with his fingers linked over his stomach.

“Hyung,” he begins, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers tap rhythmically against each other. 

Namjoon glances down at him, tilting his head. “Yes?”

Jungkook sits up, hanging one leg over the edge of the bed and keeping one curled in front of him as he faces the elder. With every ounce of seriousness and sincerity he can muster, he says: 

“I want to mate with Yoongi.”

Namjoon stares at him blankly for a few seconds before a soft smile spreads over his lips. “I know you do.”

For a moment, it feels like he’s being placated. Acknowledged, but not taken seriously. But this is Namjoon-hyung, so Jungkook knows he shouldn’t get defensive. A bit frazzled, he runs a hand through his hair. It falls limp into his lap.

“No, like—I’m planning on asking him tonight. If he says yes, I’m going to,” he states bluntly, eyes wide in attempt to make Namjoon understand.

Surprisingly, Namjoon’s smile doesn’t falter. He doesn’t frown and say that that’s impossible. He doesn’t immediately say no. What he does, is place a hand on the maknae’s shoulder and squeeze gently. Namjoon tells him, “And that’s okay, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook’s face screws in confusion. “What?” He pauses, unsure. “... I have permission to?”

Namjoon chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Either way, I would’ve said to go for it. But, yeah. I’ve been meeting with the managers in case this might’ve happened. It’s okay, Jungkook. You and Yoongi-hyung can mate. You have the clear.”

It feels like he’s about to run out of air. Jungkook exhales, and it feels like his body shuts down for the briefest second, but then kickstarts at ten times the speed. Sucking in a sharp breath, he lunges forward, jumping Namjoon, who yelps and nearly topples off the bed. 

Thank you so much, hyung,” he chokes, digging his nose into the Beta’s shoulder. A hand comes up to pet over his head, and he squeezes Namjoon tighter. 

Because it’s all thanks to Namjoon. The Beta stays late with their managers and he wakes early to meet with the company, and he advocates for the members and always has their best interest in mind. He’s the reason Jungkook can officially be with Yoongi in the way his heart has craved for years. Years

His face is warm, happily flushed, and he knows his eyes are shining. His fingers tremble, a bit. 

“You and Yoongi have to meet with the managers first,” Namjoon explains further. “You’ll have to sign a mini-contract that you’ll keep your bond under wraps until they can release a statement. And you should talk to Jin—more for traditional purposes, he’s Pack Alpha, after all—but that’s it.”

Jungkook leans back, keeping his hands on the Beta’s shoulders. “When the time comes, we’re naming our first born after you,” he swears solemnly.

Namjoon throws his head back in a bursting laugh. “You don’t have to do that.” He shakes his head fondly, and raises a finger to his lips in a gesture of secret keeping. “Just help me be the favorite uncle.” 

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees easily, hugging Namjoon one last time before bouncing off the bed to his feet. He makes his way to the bedroom door excitedly, steps buoyant and eager. “I’ll talk to Jin-hyung right now—”

As he pulls the door, it swings open with a startling amount of force. Jungkook jumps back as four bodies slump onto the floor of the bedroom. Hoseok grunts, on bottom of the pile, and Taehyung beams up at him, unbothered at the top of the pile. Jimin and Seokjin are squished between them. 

“Oh, wow,” Namjoon deadpans.

“Jin-hyung says yes!” Jin’s head pops up as he struggles against the others, rolling out of the pile. 

Taehyung jumps up easily, pointing an accusing finger at the Beta still seated on the bed. “I heard that, Kim Namjoon, and I’ll have you know that I’m going to be the favorite uncle!”

Namjoon raises his hands in surrender at the same time Jimin, still sprawled on the floor, grabs Taehyung’s ankle in a vice-like grip. “Over my dead body,” he growls lowly. 

Taehyung squeals as Jimin yanks him to the floor and pounces on him. The two tussle around, play nipping and growling at each other. Finally free, Hoseok jumps up to his feet and tackles Jungkook in a hug.

“My baby is all grown up,” he wails, arms wound around Jungkook’s neck, nearly suffocating him. 

Jungkook would usually relax against Hoseok’s hold, but this hug is especially tight, and he might actually pass out, so he struggles to tug away, grunting out, “I’ve—been grown, hyung—I’m—an adult—”

“Hush, I’m sentimental,” Hoseok sniffs, finally releasing his hold to ruffle the younger Alpha’s hair aggressively, laughing when Jungkook complains loudly.

“So how are you going to ask him?” Seokjin asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to Namjoon. Jimin and Taehyung grow still on the floor. They watch him expectantly.

“Uh,” Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. “I was gonna wait ‘til he wakes up.”

And?” Taehyung prompts from underneath Jimin. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion at the question. “And ask him?” 

There’s a collective gasp. They gape at him in various mixes of shock and disbelief. Even Namjoon raises a brow. Jungkook bristles, hackles rising in defense. What else do they expect? He tries to justify himself.

“Yoongi doesn’t like big, over the top—”

Jimin interrupts him, elbows digging into Taehyung’s shoulders in a way that looks painful. “Yeah, we know Yoongi-hyung, but at least take him out first, you barbarian.”

“You have to admit,” Hoseok adds on, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Yoongi is kind of a sucker for being wine-and-dined.”

“Hyung likes flowers, too,” Namjoon offers. The others nod rapidly in agreement.

“You’re basically proposing, Kookie,” Seokjin tells him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, but he smiles, eyes soft. “Make it something memorable for the both of you.”

It’s true. A mating bond is the true joining of two souls. Records of all kind show whether a couple is mated or not. Most don’t bother with paper marriage—though Jungkook wants to do that, too—so this really is his proposal for Yoongi and him to spend the rest of their lives together.

Jungkook purses his lips in thought. He would like to do something more for Yoongi, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm his Omega. Something memorable... Something simple, but sweet. 

“I could cook for him,” Jungkook thinks out loud. Seokjin’s been teaching him some recipes. “I can stop by the closest flower shop and get a bouquet...” An idea starts to form in his mind. He trails off, glancing up and around the room. “Do you think you could go out for a couple of hours this evening, so I can use the dorm?”

“Of course,” Seokjin pipes up. “There’s a movie that I’ve been wanting to see at the theater.”

“We can do that and grab some dinner afterwards,” Jimin supplies, and everyone nods in agreement. “That gets you at least three hours.”

“Even then, we can just go to the studio until you give us the clear,” Hoseok offers, jiggling Jungkook around under his arm. 

“What are you planning to cook?” Taehyung asks curiously. 

Seokjin groans in anticipation. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

Jungkook’s response is a wide, crinkly-eyed, mischevious grin. 

Chapter 4: IV

Notes:

this still took a while, sorry! smut is hard ( ̄  ̄|||) i hope it’s okay. it’s 2am... if there are any mistakes, i will fix them some other time with fresh eyes orz

thank you for reading and loving this fic, and for your wonderful support and patience

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The dorm door swings shut behind Yoongi with a soft click. He sighs—locks it before unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, slipping out of his shoes at the same time. He opts to leave his hoodie on—an oversized red thing belonging to Jungkook originally. It’s theirs now, as are most of the clothes belonging to the two. 

For all the others lectured him about making sure he used this time off to rest, Hoseok had been dead set on dragging Yoongi to the studio to show him a song he’d been working on, and Yoongi was unable to refuse. As it always does when he’s in the studio, time flew by in a blur. Now it’s late, late afternoon, and he’s kind of bitter he’s lost a day of laying in bed with Jungkook.

It’s weird. They’d taken the same car home, Hoseok and Yoongi, but the younger had nearly shoved Yoongi out of the vehicle when they reached the dorm, shouting something intelligible about having places to be, slamming the door shut behind the elder. Yoongi is pretty sure he heard the door click, Hoseok pushing down the little lock button in good measure. 

It left him feeling a bit uneasy. He still is. He doesn’t like being unaware of what’s going on. The dorm is eerily silent. Empty. Yoongi can’t help but wonder where everyone went, wearily shrugging off the mix of disappointment and relief that he wasn’t invited along. 

Then, a certain smell drifts down the hall. 

Yoongi pauses, still stood barefoot in the entry hall of their home, nose flaring as he places the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat. In immediate response, his stomach gurgles pleadingly, urging him to step forward. Yoongi shuffles towards the kitchen, but then frowns when he realized that’s not where the source of the smell is coming from. 

With a confused tilt of his head, Yoongi reroutes, padding towards the living room. There’s dim light emanating from the room, shining past the threshold into the shadowed hall of the dorm. Something like this would usually make him feel nervous—as if it were a scene from a horror movie; walking down a dim hall—but there’s a soft hint of Jungkook’s scent, too, and he finds himself lengthening his strides, a tiny bit of excitement building in his stomach. 

He’s speed walking, turning into the living room, and— 

 Oh. 

There’s a table set out in the middle of the room, couches shoved back a bit to make space for it. The dark wood is low to the ground, rectangular, and stretched wide. There’s a padded blanket flaring out from its edges, stretched out over the carpet. Yoongi recognizes it—the kotatsu they bought from Japan a few years back, just large enough to barely seat the seven of them, when they’re squished side by side. 

There are two pillow seats placed side by side at the table, facing the television, which plays the title screen of... Howl’s Moving Castle. One of his favorite Studio Ghibli films. The orchestral theme music plays softly, on a loop, and Yoongi lingers near the table and listens to the song, smiling. 

Across the kotatsu is a spread of food that could definitely feed more than two people. Yoongi can tell effort was put into the plating and presentation of the food, eyes roving over the feast. There’s the staple rice and kimchi, as well as bulgogi, japchae, and roughly wrapped spring rolls. A small plate of lamb skewers sits near the center of the table, next to a bottle of rice wine.  

Yoongi laughs in disbelief, stepping to one of the pillow seats. He sinks down, crossing his legs. He pulls the blanket over his lap, and his legs are immediately embraced with pleasant warmth. “Amazing,” he murmurs, lips permanently curled into a fond smile.  

Steps echo down the hall, and Yoongi turns towards the entrance of the living room expectantly, eyes and smile widening.  

Jungkook doesn’t notice him, focused on the unscented candle in one hand and the lighter in the other, attempting to ignite the wick while walking. There’s a bouquet tucked carefully under his arm, hints of soft blue, yellow, and white peeking out from behind him. 

Yoongi’s brows furrow in worry. “Kook-ah, put the flowers down first,” he chides gently. 

A surprised noise leaves the younger, his head snapping up to gape at Yoongi. He shakes off the shock quickly enough, lips falling into a displeased pout. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” he complains, expression cloudy, slightly disappointed. “I’m not done...”

Before Jungkook can grow too upset, Yoongi rises from the cushion, making his way to the younger. Jungkook watches him silently as he approaches, still pouting. Yoongi rises onto the tips of his toes once he’s stood in front of the Alpha.  

“I’ll go to my room,” he suggests, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s pout puckered lips. Jungkook leans forward, reciprocating the gesture, lips soft against Yoongi’s. The elder pulls back, reaching up to fix a stray strand in Jungkook’s styled hair.

“You look nice,” he smiles, eyeing the rolled up sleeves of Jungkook’s dress shirt, lingering on his toned forearms. “I want to dress up a bit, too. Tell me when you’re ready?”

A bright, beaming smile breaks out across the Alpha’s features, his eyes lighting up in appreciation. Yoongi isn’t sure what brought this on, but he knows it’s important to Jungkook—knows that Jungkook wants to do this on his own—so he doesn’t mind staying in his room, instead of offering to help like he’s inclined to. 

“Yes,” Jungkook agrees readily, ducking down to peck the corner of Yoongi’s mouth gratefully. “I won’t be long, hyung. Promise.”

“Take your time, Kook. There’s no rush,” Yoongi assures him, hand sliding from the Alpha’s hair to the nape of his neck, his fingers massaging into the skin. Jungkook sighs, his eyes fluttering closed as he brushes his nose along Yoongi’s.

“M’kay, hyung,” Jungkook murmurs, touching his forehead against Yoongi’s, breathing serenely as he raises his head to press a kiss to the Omega’s hairline. “Off you go,” he smiles, nudging Yoongi with his unoccupied elbow. “Put on something pretty for me,” he teases in a croon, puckering his lips prominently. 

A laugh bubbles out of Yoongi as he smacks the younger’s shoulder playfully. “Only for you,” he sings, batting his lashes coyly. 

Jungkook giggles, nose scrunched and eyes crinkled. Yoongi just has to kiss him one more time before turning to make his way towards his bedroom. Jungkook raises his foot and kicks his butt lightly on his way out, grinning mischievously. 

The excitement begins to build again. Yoongi takes quick steps to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and nearly booking it for his closet. This date that Jungkook planned may be at home, and it’s not that he feels obligated to dress up—he knows he could go out there in his rattiest clothes, and Jungkook would still beam sunshine at him—but he wants to put in effort for Jungkook, the same way Jungkook has done so much for him tonight. 

He wants to make Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. His definitely did when he realized what Jungkook had planned for him. Homemade dinner and a movie. How sweet. If he can get the Alpha to smile that scrunchy smile of his, if he can get Jungkook’s cheeks to dust even the slightest hint of pink, he’ll consider it a job well done. 

Funnily enough, he’s starting to feel a little nervous, butterflies fluttering cacophonously in his stomach. Despite the fact that he’s gone out with Jungkook a thousand and one times, he’s almost giddy with the jumble of emotion, excitement and nerves melding together to create one bubbly, heart racing feeling. 

It makes him feel like a kid again—flipping through his clothes in search of an outfit, already mentally planning what he’ll do with his hair, debating if he’ll dab on a bit of makeup. He pulls down a hanger, sliding his hand over the soft, deep red matieral. The shirt is long sleeved and low-collared, oversized and comfy, but nice enough for a date. He purses his lips and nods, pulling it from the hanger and tossing the shirt on his bed, tugging off his hoodie. 

Once he’s changed into the shirt, and his sweats are replaced with black pants, he steps towards the full body mirror in his room, inspecting the outfit, giving it a pass. He fluffs his hair a bit, making the slightly curled strands look more feathered. As for make up, he doesn’t apply much more than a simple eyeshadow and lip tint. Satisfied, he moves to sit on the edge of his bed to wait. 

Just as he lowers down, his phone goes off, vibrating atop his nightstand, buzzing loudly against the wood. Yoongi jumps up again and goes to pick it up when he sees that—

It’s Jungkook

A pleasantly surprised smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He answers the call, raising the phone to his ear. “Hello,” he greets sweetly, falling to sit on the bed, wiggling his feet happily. 

Jungkook laughs a bit, soft and bubbly. “Hi, baby. I’m on my way to pick you up for our date!” 

The force of Yoongi’s smile almost makes his cheeks ache. “Oh? Where are you taking me?”

That—” Jungkook lowers his voice conspiratorially, “—is a surprise.” 

Yoongi laughs outright. “I can hardly wait.” 

Another giggle floats through the speaker. “Well, you don’t have to. I’m outside your door!

Gasping scandalously, Yoongi raises from the bed, padding to his closed bedroom door. “You didn’t speed, did you?”

The door swings open. Jungkook stands there, phone held by his ear, smile stretched across his lips. “Of course not,” he teases, lowering the device. “I wore my seatbelt, and all.”

Yoongi snorts, hanging up the call and turning to toss his phone on his bed. When he faces Jungkook, the younger is already staring down at him, eyes shining. A hand reaches out to cup Yoongi’s face, thumb brushing under his eye. Yoongi leans into the touch happily. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook whispers, their faces inches apart. Yoongi tilts his head, pressing his lips to younger’s skin, leaving a smidgen of pink on the inside of the Alpha’s wrist. 

“Well, I saw how handsome you are, and I figured I needed to step up my game,” Yoongi responds, nuzzling the palm of the Alpha’s hand. 

Jungkook laughs a bit breathlessly. “I literally only have chapstick on,” he denies. Yoongi peers up at him past his lashes, lips curling softly. 

“Your point is?” He questions, arching a brow. “Even with—especially with—only chapstick, you’re my handsome Jungkookie,” Yoongi praises, huddling close to the younger, letting his nose trace along the Alpha’s jaw sweetly. His hands raise to rest against Jungkook’s shoulders, smoothing over the material of his shirt. 

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth lilt up pleasantly, despite the way he presses his lips together to quell his smug smile. The way his shoulders straighten doesn’t lie; the Alpha preens under Yoongi’s appraisal. Yoongi grins fondly at him, patting his chest amicably. 

“We’re gonna be late to our movie,” he chides the younger, pout forming on his lips. Jungkook laughs, intertwining their fingers and tugging the elder from the room, reaching out to flip off the light switch behind him. The room goes dark, blending with the black of the hall. 

“And our reservation!” Jungkook jokes, leading Yoongi towards the light of the living room by the hand. Yoongi chuckles softly, ducking his head to look at the floor. He laughs even more. 

They’re both dressed nicely from head to ankle, but their feet—Yoongi has a pair of fuzzy Kumamon socks on, and Jungkook—his are covered in his infamous Iron Man socks, a sharp contrast to the rest of his outfit. A burst of fondness has Yoongi gripping Jungkook’s hand tight, practically hugging the younger’s arm as he lets out soundless giggles. 

The kotatsu is exactly as it was when Yoongi found it, save for the three lit, unscented candles clustered at the center of the table and the bouquet of flowers, now placed in a glass vase. Some of the food looks slightly rearranged, small wisps of steam rising from them; Yoongi figures Jungkook reheated whatever had gone cold while he was getting ready. 

It hits Yoongi again, just how wonderful Jungkook is, preparing this for him. He lingers in the entry way of the living room, fingers unlinking from Jungkook’s as the Alpha makes his way to the table. He watches as the younger sits and pulls the blanket over his lap, reaching for the television remote on the table. He hits play and turns to Yoongi, blinking at the elder. 

Jungkook pats the seat cushion beside him. “Yoongi,” he calls simply, tilting his head in question. 

Yoongi walks to him, dropping to his knees on his cushion, reaching for the younger. He wraps his arms around the Alpha’s shoulders, pressing his nose against his neck. 

“Thank you,” Yoongi murmurs, turning to brush his lips against the mole on the Alpha’s neck, tightening his embrace. “This is so sweet, Kook-ah.”

Jungkook laughs, a soft, bashful thing. A bit nervous, but Yoongi can’t tell why. He puts his arms around Yoongi, pressing his face to the elder’s shoulder. “It’s what you deserve, hyung... The movie’s starting. Let’s eat now.”

A hum of affirmation leaves Yoongi. He scoots back—though not without pecking Jungkook’s cheek, earning a smile from the Alpha—and sits crossed legged on his cushion beside the younger, resuming his earlier position with the blanket of the kotatsu spread over his knees. 

They both get immersed in the movie for a while, eating silently, simply basking in each other’s presence. The food is delicious, as expected of his Alpha; when Jungkook puts in so much effort, there can only be good results, amazing results. Yoongi can’t help but wonder: 

“How did you manage to cook so much?” 

Jungkook side-eyes him, munching on a piece of meat tucked between his chopsticks. He chews it into his mouth, swallowing quickly. “Jin-hyung and Jimin helped me,” he informs the elder, smiling shyly. “They did a lot, really. I didn’t ask them to help me make so much, but they wanted to.” 

The movie sort of drifts to the back of his mind; Yoongi wants to focus on Jungkook, resting his chin on his palm, angled towards the Alpha. Jungkook watches him in return, picking idly at his rice. Picking? Normally, that rice would be gone by now. Jungkook would be on his second helping, at least. Yoongi raises a curious brow. 

There’s a question on the tip of his tongue, but Jungkook averts his gaze, pointedly staring down at his food. Yoongi purses his lips, glancing around in the suddenly buzzing silence. His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers. Reaching out, he curls his hands around the vase and slides it close to the edge of the table—right between the two of them—running his thumb along a powder soft petal, colored a delicate white. 

“What flowers are these?” He asks—if anything, to hear Jungkook speak. Yoongi knows he’ll be able to name the flowers. The younger cares for the small details like this—the message behind each flower, how to make a meaningful bouquet. 

“The one you’re touching is Gardenia.” 

At the sound of Jungkook’s voice—soft spoken and strangely heavy—Yoongi glances up, looking to the Alpha with wide, curious eyes. Jungkook stares intensely at the flowers, chewing his lip. Lost in thought. Yoongi frowns a bit, opens his mouth to voice his concern, but then Jungkook’s moving. 

A hand reaches out for the remote, pausing the movie. Jungkook turns on his cushion, facing Yoongi with crossed legs, half covered by the blanket. Yoongi blinks, watching with belated curiosity as Jungkook reaches out and grabs his free hand, holding it between his own. 

Jungkook fiddles with his fingers; his thumb traces circles into the elder’s palm. “Gardenia... is used to relay the message: you’re lovely. Which you are. They also symbolize secret love. Which I felt for you, for a long time.”

“Oh...” Yoongi lowers the hand petting the flower, placing it over Jungkook’s hands, grasping him gently. “Kook-ah...”

The Alpha continues on, still staring at the flowers intently. “The light blue ones; they’re Lilac. They mean happiness and tranquility. I’m so happy with you. I want you to be happy with me.”

A light flush is building its way up Yoongi’s chest. He feels the rising heat, gaze transfixed on Jungkook, kind of in a daze. “I... I am. Jungkook-ah?” 

There’s a soft, faraway look in Jungkook’s eyes. Yoongi tilts his head, tries to make eye contact, but Jungkook averts his gaze down to their joined hands. 

“The deep blue ones. Those are called Forget Me Nots. They symbolize true love. And remembrance.” Jungkook presses their palms together and intertwines their fingers. Yoongi smiles, eyes shining sweetly. He squeezes the Alpha’s hands. 

“I do love you,” he agrees, lips spread in a wide grin, his heart picking up speed a bit. Instinct tells him Jungkook needs to hear it, something about his tone leading to some sort of build up. Yoongi... feels nervous and anticipatory all at once. 

Jungkook sends him a slow smile in response. “I love you, too,” he grins—a thin, shaky thing—before taking in a deep breath and continuing on. “The yellow ones are Daffodil, which mean good fortune and... new beginnings,” he says, in an alluding sort of voice. He takes in another breath and lifts his gaze. 

There’s a surefire light in Jungkook’s eyes—brazen and determined—that has Yoongi’s breath catching in his throat, lips parting to release a surprised breath. “Jungkook,” he chokes out, words lilting in a deadpan sort of warning, like he knows where this is going. And he does, probably, somewhere underneath his pounding pulse, but the forefront of his mind is a buzzing blank. 

Their fingers grip each other. There’s a knowing hope in Jungkook’s eyes, like he’s looking forward in time and is happy with what he sees, like he knows where he’s going and what he wants and who he wants it with. 

He’s looking at Yoongi like he wants him. Like he always will. And Yoongi trusts him. Yoongi wants him, too. Loves him just the same. 

“Jungkook-ah...”

“Yoongi.” Jungkook pulls Yoongi’s hands, holds them close to his chest. His round, doe eyes are shining in a way that has Yoongi’s itching in automatic response.

There’s so much in just the two syllables of his name—an entire memoir of Jungkook’s emotions. The Alpha’s scent does a funny thing, emits in a billowy cloud of sea breeze and cotton candy, as if he’s calling out for Yoongi, as if he...

Jungkook registers the shock on Yoongi’s face, smells the Omega’s own honeyed scent expand in respond to his. There’s disbelieving question written over Yoongi’s face, but Jungkook has never been more serious in his entire life. 

“I want a new beginning with you,” Jungkook states, ducking to press fleeting kisses to the elder’s knuckles. “As your forever Alpha. I want you to be mine forever, my forever Omega. My mate.”

At the word, a strangled noise gets trapped in Yoongi’s throat. His words leave him, airy and wavering. “When... When I have my heat... You want to bond?”

“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, so completely sure of himself. Sure of Yoongi.

Everything is silent—completely still—for a second. Yoongi can only stare dumbfounded at Jungkook, cogs in his mind churning. Jungkook wants to bond with him. Sure, he knew that, in theory, as a hypothetical. But within the next week, he’ll be... He’ll be Jungkook’s. Jungkook’s Yoongi. And Jungkook will be his. Completely. So fundamentally. 

A laugh slips past Yoongi’s lips, giddy and a tiny bit manic. “Yes.”

Jungkook’s brows lift. “Y-Yeah?”

Yoongi lets out another airy laugh. “Yes. Let’s—Let’s bond, Jungkook.”

Then, the Alpha’s brows are furrowing, his entire face crumpling. 

“Oh,” Yoongi breathes, eyes instantly swelling with tears. He lurches forward, launching himself at the younger, straddling him as he pulls Jungkook’s head to the crook of his shoulder, feeling the Alpha shake against him. “Oh, Jungkookie.”

“For so long, hyung,” Jungkook chokes out against his neck. His arms slip around the elder, clutching onto him. His nose digs into the Omega’s scent gland, seeking comfort, basking in his presence. “For so long.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to say anything else; he can’t, really, not with the way he starts crying. Jungkook is like him in a lot of ways—tends to mask his emotions for his hyungs’ sake. Yoongi wonders if this is the result of so many years of repressed, hidden emotions. If this is the final, bursting swell of relief that Jungkook needs, at least until they’re officially mated. 

“It must’ve been so difficult,” Yoongi whispers into his hair, his own lips trembling in reaction to Jungkook’s tears, damp against his neck. “You have me, Kookie. I’m here. You have me. And I—”

Overcome with emotion, Yoongi lowers down to bury his face into Jungkook’s neck, seeking his own comfort. The Alpha’s scent grounds him, reminds him that this is real

“I have you.”

“Forever,” Jungkook agrees in a wet sniff, lifting his head just enough press his lips against the Omega’s neck. “Forever.”  

 


 

After an hour of cuddling and scenting, they call the others. Within fifteen minutes, the rest of their pack is home, launching themselves at the pair.

(“What did you say?” Taehyung squeals, bouncing on his heels. 

“I said yes, of course.” Yoongi tilts his head.

“He said yes!” Jimin screams. The others screech loudly.) 

They gather at the kotatsu, finishing up the twice reheated food and movie together. The others chat as Yoongi sits tucked against Jungkook’s side, head on the Alpha’s shoulder, their hands intertwined between them. The atmosphere is warm, so warm. With his pack and his mate-to-be beside him. 

Yoongi knows, without a doubt in his mind, that he will remember this moment for the rest of his life. 

 


 

“Baby, what are you doing?”

Yoongi jolts, turning his head from where he’s crouched over Namjoon’s laundry basket. Jungkook stands in the doorway of the Beta’s room, leaning against the frame with an amused lilt to his lips. Yoongi frowns, raising to his feet with an irritated huff. 

“I was looking for a shirt or something for the nest, but Joon went and did his laundry before he left,” Yoongi grumbles. He raises a hand to point at the Beta’s closet. “And those smell too much like laundry detergent,” he complains, brows furrowed in frustration.

It’s not like he needs something of Namjoon’s, but he... needs something of Namjoon’s. Even though the nest will be predominately made of Jungkook’s and his sheets and clothing, he needs at least one scented thing from each of his pack members. It just... makes it complete. He has T-shirts of Seokjin and Hoseok, a sweatshirt of Jimin, and a coat of Taehyung. 

Jungkook purses his lips in thought. “What about one of his pillows?” 

A displeased noise leaves Yoongi. He shakes his head. “That smells too much like him,” he argues petulantly. His nose scrunches when Jungkook huffs out a disbelieving laugh at him, lips downturned. 

The sight of his unhappy expression has Jungkook backtracking, making his way to the elder with understanding, apologetic eyes. He reaches down and pulls Yoongi to his feet, wrapping him in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, tilting his head to allow the Omega access to his scent gland, sighing out as he feels Yoongi snuffle against his skin. “I know this is important. Oh!” Jungkook leans back, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. “I think I have one of Namjoon’s hoodies, actually! It’ll smell a bit like me, too, though. If that’s okay?”

A wry smile curls Yoongi’s lips. “Oh, no. It’ll have your scent on it. You of all people. How terrible,” he drawls flatly. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grinning amusedly. “Okay, Mr. Sassypants. Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

When Yoongi gives Jungkook a hum of approval, the Alpha takes him by the hand and leads him from Namjoon’s room, throughout the empty dorm. Once they reach the younger’s room, Jungkook moves towards the closet, while Yoongi immediately goes to the pile of material placed at the end of the Alpha’s bed—clothes and blankets and pillows he plans to use for his nest. 

Shifting through the pile, Yoongi discards a few shirts that need to be re-scented by Jungkook, organizing the stack. He glances up as Jungkook steps beside him, examining the hoodie in the younger’s hands. Reaching out, he pulls on the material, raising it to his nose and sniffing. Good enough. Jungkook beams happily as Yoongi places the hoodie on the pile. 

A pleased hum leaves Yoongi when Jungkook steps behind him and wraps him in a hug, ducking down to run his nose along the Omega’s neck. “Do you want to make the nest now?” Jungkook asks, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“We already have the water set out, right?” Yoongi asks, still going through the pile. Jungkook hums in affirmation, pointing to the case of plastic water bottles on his desk. Beside them are a few packages of crackers and some fruit cups. 

Yoongi bites his lips in contemplation. “Do you think we should use the mattress, or just lay blankets on the floor?”

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with, baby,” Jungkook responds, half distracted with the Omega’s scent, still roving his nose along the length of the elder’s neck. Yoongi bites his lip, head falling back on Jungkook’s shoulder as the Alpha presses his lips to his scent gland. 

There’s a tinge to Yoongi’s scent—makes it sweeter, sultry and all encompassing. The Omega has been in this preheat-ish limbo for a couple of hours, but he’s not been affected by it, really. The scent of preheat becomes a bit stronger, though, as Jungkook parts his mouth to suck the elder’s scent gland. Yoongi gasps, jolts a bit in his arms, head lolling to bare his neck. Jungkook takes the invitation, tasting the Omega’s slow, dragging descent into heat.

Jungkook flattens his tongue over Yoongi’s scent gland and widens his jaw, teasingly digging his teeth into the skin. 

“O-Okay,” Yoongi rushes out in a breathy tone, pulling away from Jungkook’s grasp. “Help me drag the mattress onto the floor,” he orders, gathering his pile of clothes and walking to place it on Jungkook’s desk.

He ignores the small, self-satisfied smirk that curls Jungkook’s lips.

 


  

It doesn’t take long for them to drag the mattress to one corner of the room, tucked snugly against the furthest wall from the door. Jungkook turns to ask Yoongi what he’ll need help with next, but then two hands are shoving at his chest, pushing him down onto the bed. Jungkook falls with a huff, sprawled in the middle of the mattress, leaning back on his hands, blinking up bewildered at the elder. 

“Yoongi—”

Whatever the younger wants to ask is cut off as Yoongi straddles him, hands still pushing down on his shoulders until Jungkook is laid flat on the bed. 

“Kook-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, digging his hips down slightly against the Alpha’s lower stomach. His eyes are half-lidded, staring down at Jungkook. 

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his hands finding Yoongi’s waist, gut stirring at the weight just above the seam of his sweatpants. The blatant seductive look on the Omega’s face makes his mouth suddenly feel desert dry. He swallows. “Yes, baby?” 

The elder leans down, tucking his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck, breathing against the skin. He whispers, “Gimme your shirt.”

Yoongi’s scent billows in the air like slow, thick fog—sticky sweet preheat. Thicker, headier than before. Lips parting, Jungkook’s tongue rolls over the roof of his mouth, tasting it. It’ll be a few hours until his heat arrives, for sure. A pair of hands slide down Jungkook’s chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt, gliding up over his abs, bunching up the material. Yoongi leans back, meeting his eyes, and Jungkook lets out a shaky breath. 

“Give it to me,” Yoongi mumbles, tugging on the material of the younger’s shirt. Jungkook nods, sort of rapidly, lifting up just enough to pull off his shirt. Yoongi immediately holds it up to his nose, covering the bottom half of his face as he takes in a deep, whiffing breath. 

Jungkook bites back a groan. Instead, he breathes out, “Are you going to make the nest now, darling?” The skin of his back itches where it makes contact with the bed; he arches away from it slightly, resisting the growing urge to flip them over and press Yoongi to the mattress, pin him down, grind down against—

Not now, he chides himself. Not yet. 

“Mhm.” Yoongi nods, half in a daze, his eyes focused on Jungkook’s torso. Jungkook presses his lips together to quell his curling smirk, but can’t help but tense his stomach muscles, flexing his abs a bit, trailing his fingers to the elder’s thighs and kneading.

A soft noise slips past Yoongi’s lips. The elder lifts his gaze to glare at him. “Are you trying to trigger my heat?” He snarks, but the way his cheeks flush pink betray his unaffected facade. 

Jungkook grins. He can’t say he doesn’t like the sound of that. He likes it a lot, really—wants to explore that another time—but he knows the nest is at the top of the elder’s priorities. No more distractions. Avoiding the question with a hum, Jungkook attempts to rise, only for Yoongi to nudge him back down. 

“Stay,” the Omega says when Jungkook pouts up at him in confusion. 

“Don’t you want me to help?” Jungkook asks, propping himself up on his elbows to follow the elder with his eyes as he rises and walks to the desk, returning with the pile of clothes and blankets.

“No,” Yoongi responds firmly, tossing a handful of shirts onto the Alpha before dumping the rest of the pile onto the bed. “I make the nest. You stay put and scent those.”

Jungkook huffs a bit, falling onto his back. He pulls a shirt up to his chin, rubbing against it idly, eyes trained on Yoongi, who’s sat near the end of the mattress, beginning to build the border of their nest. The corners of Jungkook’s mouth pull up automatically, curling happily at the sight of his nesting Omega. 

“Why can’t I help you?” He asks, curious and a bit put off at not being more useful. 

Instantly, Yoongi responds, “You won’t do it right.” At Jungkook’s wounded noise, he glances over his shoulder at the Alpha. “Sorry, Kook, but it’s true. Not that you couldn’t, but I just... I need to do it,” the elder explains quietly. “Anyway, I need you in the nest, so I can be sure it’ll fit us both.”

Nudging the Omega’s lower back with his foot, Jungkook teases, “That’s hot.”

A snort leaves Yoongi. “Whatever gets you going, tiger,” he retorts playfully. 

Soft laughter shakes Jungkook’s shoulders as he ceases his pokes against Yoongi’s back. He tosses the first shirt—now thoroughly re-scented—to the pile and reaches for another. After a few silent moments, he begins humming under his breath, smiling when he notices underlying tension in the elder’s shoulders meld away a bit. 

They work like that for a while—Yoongi building the nest around them and Jungkook scenting the few shirts and dutifully lying still when he finishes. The Alpha closes his eyes and relaxes, doesn’t stop singing as Yoongi nests, but his voice trails as time passes, decrescendos into a soft murmur. The comfort of being with his nesting Omega, plus Yoongi’s heightened, sweet scent clouding the air, combined with Jungkook’s own, provides an aura of serenity. Peaceful calm. 

Jungkook is nearly asleep by the time he feels the mattress dip from shifting weight, before a body is curling up next to him. He pries his eyes open, moves his arm to provide it as a pillow for Yoongi, but then the elder is climbing onto him—resting his body along Jungkook’s bare torso, tucking his head under Jungkook’s chin. 

“I’m done,” Yoongi murmurs against Jungkook’s collarbone. He goes quiet, gaze locked somewhere across the bed. Awaiting Jungkook’s response.  

Jungkook lifts his head just enough to glance around the nest. His chest fills with warm content and pride. He lets his head fall back down, nosing at Yoongi’s hair. “Thank you,” he says sweetly, pressing a kiss against the elder’s head. 

Yoongi squirms a bit, ignoring the pleased blush working its way up his chest. “... Why are you thanking me?”

“It’s so good,” Jungkook praises, raising a hand to comb through the strands of the elder’s hair. “You did so well.”

Pressing tighter to the Alpha’s chest, Yoongi hides his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Hides his burning cheeks. In a quiet, low voice, he asks, a bit timidly, “Are... Are you happy with it...?”

“Yes,” Jungkook assures him, hugging his arms around the Omega. As if in response to the question, his throat instinctually begins to rumble. “I’m so happy, Yoongi-yah.”

“I’m glad then,” Yoongi mumbles, feeling Jungkook purring under his cheek, biting back a tiny, infinitely pleased squeal. His chest hurts. He thinks he’ll die if Jungkook keeps being so sweet with him. He already feels so squeamish, so tingly. “We should sleep now, Kook-ah. It’s... going to kick in soon.”

And soon, it will. Jungkook can already smell it on the very edges of Yoongi’s scent—pure heat. It has his lashes fluttering, his nose flaring, his gut stirring with instinct. Yoongi is right; they need to rest as much as possible. 

Wait. Jungkook blinks. “Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

“Did you... want to bond right away?” Jungkook asks, kind of hesitant. For him, the sooner he’s mated to Yoongi, the better. But he hands the decision over to the Omega. 

Yoongi, however, plops it right back into his palms; he hums absentmindedly, already drifting off, on the cusps of sleep, “Whatever feels right, Kook-ah. Whenever it feels right. I trust you.”

Breathing out a sigh, Jungkook shifts, turning them on their sides. He presses as close as physically possible to Yoongi, his hands sliding under the elder’s shirt to touch warm skin. The Omega’s breath fans over his neck, slightly ticklish and mostly comforting. 

“Okay,” he affirms, closing his eyes as Yoongi’s limbs curl tight around him. Grounding and secure. He feels safe here in their nest, curled protectively around Yoongi, the Omega completely relaxed in his arms. “When it feels right.”

 


  

Jungkook is eating honey in his dreams, sucking sweet stickiness from the tips of his fingers. It’s cloyingly thick on his tongue, his tastebuds curling at the strong, pure flavor. Hints of floral fragrance floats to his nose, and he thinks he might be lying on a bed of wildflowers. 

Honey is stuck on the roof of his mouth, sparking a gnawing hunger in his gut, but no matter how he swirls his tongue, he can’t seem to swallow any down—uselessly licking at the inside of his mouth. Warmth surrounds him in a cozy, calming bubble. He’s so warm. He’s... sweating a bit, and he’s... hot, really. 

He wakes in a series of senses.

The heady smell, so thick that he tastes it. There’s weight pressing down on him, centered atop his hips, especially. The weight digs down against him, grinding, and he feels licks of pleasure shooting up his spine, making him twitch with its sparking electricity. His hips curl up from the bed, and knows, without a doubt, undeniably, that he’s hard. The front of his sweats feel sticky and damp—overtly so. In the sleep-fogged state of his mind, Jungkook starts to put two and two together. 

A loose moan slips past his lips, and he hears it echo in his ears, until he realizes that it’s not his voice sounding back at him, but the small, muffled whines and whimpers of another. Harsh, panting breaths bounce around the room, in time with the sharp hitches of hips against his, and Jungkook feels suddenly wide awake in stunned comprehension. He gasps, breathy and strangled. His eyes blink open. They widen. 

Yoongi is naked above him—an expanse of pale skin, hued with the soft, natural light filtering into the room past the curtains, dusted with rosy pink. His knees are splayed on either side of Jungkook’s waist. One of the elder’s arms hugs around himself, while the other holds his hand clamped over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his noises. His eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed as he digs his hips down, his ass seated firmly over Jungkook’s crotch. 

There’s a shiny sheen of precome on the elder’s stomach, his little, pink cock standing against the skin, swaying as Yoongi moves his hips in figure-eight motions. Jungkook watches him for as long as he can stand—hypnotized by the way the Omega works his hips—his heart pounding in his chest, breath coming quicker. But then Yoongi lets out a hiccuping whimper that sounds suspiciously like his name, and Jungkook cannot take it any longer. 

The Omega freezes, eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s hands slip around his waist, his fingers digging into the flesh. Jungkook—lips parted in a breathy, soft moan—bends his knees, digs his feet into the mattress, and rolls his hips up fluidly. A low, pleased growl vibrates his chest as Yoongi shudders and begins to move with him. His fingers crawl lower, tracing the damp skin of his ass, trailing towards the source of the wet coating his sweatpants.

Jungkook swipes a slow finger between the elder’s cheeks, whimpering at the way his digit slides along the slick skin, at how Yoongi moves back against his hand, one of the Omega’s own curling around his wrist to make him stay. Jungkook pants—lets the pad of his finger press against the elder’s rim. It’s wet, he’s so wet.

“F-Fuck,” Yoongi keens, tightening his grip around Jungkook’s wrist, guiding his touch further—deeper. “Please...”

The tip of his finger sinks in, until the entire digit slips into his entrance, twisting and curling. Jungkook moans in tandem with Yoongi, his stomach (and cock) jerking at the tight, wet heat. The material of his sweatpants suddenly burns, makes Jungkook’s skin itch uncomfortably, painfully restricting. 

When Jungkook attempts to move away to pull the damned pants off, Yoongi hisses, fingers almost painfully tight around Jungkook’s wrist, trying his best to restrain the Alpha’s movement. Jungkook growls a bit at the inhibition, and a sad noise leaves the Omega. 

The uncomfort of the sweatpants sparks sharp irritation in Jungkook, but he meets Yoongi’s wide, red-rimmed eyes—filled with pleading and need. Jungkook softens, heart stuttering at his Omega, overcome with the urge to soothe and pamper him. Jungkook slides his hand up the elder’s chest, feeling his porcelain skin, and smiles softly when Yoongi snatches his hand, raising it to his mouth to press suckling kisses against the younger’s knuckles.  

“What do you need, Jagi?” Jungkook murmurs, petting over his waist attentively, comforting. Bringing him back down as best as he can.

Yoongi whines—a low, soft noise—and keeps his subtle grinds against Jungkook. “Need you, Kook,” he mumbles. “Need you to touch me...” 

Now, after the initial, exploding burst of passion, there’s less sense of urgency. Rather, there’s mutual love and trust, patience and sensuality. Yoongi looks so vulnerable, needy glint in his eyes, but he’s not panicking, not desperate anymore. No, he’s staring down at Jungkook with almost innocently rounded eyes, awaiting the Alpha’s next move, ready to give him everything. 

“I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart,” Jungkook promises, sliding his free hand up and down Yoongi’s stomach idly. He rumbles low in his throat. “Alpha will take care of you.”

Yoongi whimpers softly, nodding his head gently. He’s so sweet, so good. Jungkook wants to be with him always. Wasting no time, Jungkook smiles at him lovingly and curls his fingers around the elder’s hips, carefully guiding him down to the mattress. Yoongi slips from his lap, flattening onto his stomach beside the Alpha, moaning as the sheets rub against his sensitive length. 

The cool, refreshing air against his dick as he tugs off his sweats makes Jungkook breath out a moaning sigh. The pants land somewhere at the foot of the mattress, and he rises onto his knees, crawling towards Yoongi. The Omega senses his approach, back shuddering, keeping his front against the nest while hips instinctively raise from the sheets.   

Hands pulled towards his skin like magnets, Jungkook cups the elder’s hips, and slides them up, tracing the curving slope of Yoongi’s spine, feeling each tiny tremor and shiver that wracks the Omega’s frame. Placing his hands flat on Yoongi’s shoulder blades, he curls his fingers until only the tips touch skin and lightly drags his nails down the length of Yoongi’s back. 

The Omega’s chest expands in rapid, heavy breaths, his toes curling into the mattress. He arches away from Jungkook’s ticklish touch, hips twitching pleadingly. A fresh wave of slick scented air fills the room as the elder lets out a soft moan. 

“Kook,” he sighs, relishing in the cool palms gliding over his heated body—comforting and intimate, and at the same time teasing and riling. 

Jungkook can’t stop petting him, roving his hands over the Omega’s sides, hips, and thighs, in a trance as he watches Yoongi curl and twitch under his palms. After Yoongi lets out a rather loud whimper, he snaps out of his daze—finally lets his hands settle against the elder’s ass, held up by trembling thighs. He pulls.

Arousal coils tight in his gut at the sight of the elder’s slicked entrance—like a snake poised to strike. His groin is beginning to ache, a telltale signs of his inevitable rut. Jungkook takes in a shaky breath, glides his tongue over his lips, readjusts between Yoongi’s legs, and falls forward. 

“Oh,” Yoongi gasps. 

Tongue gently swirling the elder’s rim, Jungkook groans heavily. His fingers knead Yoongi’s ass, massaging the skin, digging into muscle. The Omega grinds back against his mouth, keening and gasping, and Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to hold him still. His tongue falls from his mouth to flatten against Yoongi, letting the elder ride his face, slick wetting his chin. 

Yoongi is mumbling something intelligible between moans of Jungkook’s name. It is music to the younger’s ears, has his hips twitching against the mattress, cock leaking precome as it bucks into empty air. Jungkook slides a hand around the base, hissing at the pleasure. He turns his face and bites into Yoongi’s right cheek, growling lowly as he pumps himself. 

It’s hard to think, to process anything rational, anything other than the growing instinctive need to fuck—to knot and bond. The taste of Yoongi’s slick is heady on his tongue, and Jungkook is starting to slip. His chest rumbles permanently as he bites into Yoongi’s skin again, sucking harshly to bloom marks into the pale canvas. 

He mouths his way up Yoongi’s body, occasionally pausing to bite and stamp marks, lays Yoongi flat until he can bury his face against the nape of the Omega’s neck, teething at the skin there. Yoongi grinds up, and Jungkook curls his hips, meeting him enthusiastically. Their moans clash, echoing in the corner of Jungkook’s bedroom, harmonic waves buzzing in Jungkook’s head. 

The feeling of the Omega’s slick slowly coating his dick, his thighs, and his hips as they grind against one another fills Jungkook with hunger. His jaw aches with the desire to bite down on the crook of Yoongi’s neck. He’s near ravenous—wants, wants, wants

Jungkook,” Yoongi groans, melting into the mattress when the sharp scent of rut reaches him, engulfs him. There’s not a bone in his body, with the way he goes limp, baring his neck pleadingly. An impatient noise leaves him as Jungkook only continues to suck the skin between his shoulder blades. 

The Omega shifts, turning onto his back. Jungkook doesn’t stop rubbing against him as he does, mouthing across whatever skin he comes in contact with. Once Yoongi’s fully situated, Jungkook lowers down, all intent to capture Yoongi’s lips, but then the elder is hitching his leg over his hip and pushing. 

The movement catches Jungkook by surprise, but Yoongi’s attempt at maneuvering him isn’t very strong. Curious, Jungkook lets his body fall onto the mattress at the rather gentle nudging, grinning when the Omega follows him, straddling his lap.

“Impatient,” Jungkook intends to tease, but he doesn’t have the time, because Yoongi’s leaning down and meeting his lips, sucking Jungkook’s bottom lip between his own, teething at it gently. 

The way Yoongi kisses him is soft. Lips pursed gently against his—tiny sucks, and little nips. His tongue laps at the corner of Jungkook’s mouth in a wet caress, before the Omega is ducking down to kiss against Jungkook’s neck. Wrapping his arms around the elder, Jungkook buries his nose in his hair, breathing in a deep sigh. 

It’s calming, and grounding. They’re together, and they’ll always be together. Desire and instinct are fire in their veins, but love and a softer form of instinct transforms that heat into molten lava—no less impending, but slow and cloying. Jungkook wants to savor this.

“Lay down,” he whispers, gently nudging the elder’s sides.

Yoongi makes a low noise, slipping from his lap easily. Jungkook follows him as he lays on his back, shifting to kneel between the Omega’s parted, bent legs, purring happily as he slides his palms along the length of Yoongi’s soft inner thighs, widening them. Yoongi stares at him, pliant and trusting, and Jungkook has to lean in to kiss him. 

He doesn’t speak as he trails his fingers lower—just keeps kissing Yoongi serenely, feeling the elder twitch under him as his hand trails exactly where Yoongi wants him to be. The Omega lets out a muffled whimper against his lips as he swirls his finger around his rim, slipping the tip of his finger inside slowly. The digit enters easily, wet with warm slick, so Jungkook pulls it out and returns with two. 

“Jungkook,” Yoongi sighs, completely lax as the Alpha eases his fingers inside, and Jungkook is suddenly hit with the slightly childish urge to cover them with a blanket, wanting to keep every breath and noise of Yoongi close and warm. Sheltered.

“I love this,” Jungkook breathes against Yoongi’s chin. “I love touching you.”

He emphasizes the statement by massaging his fingers in and out, scissoring and curling them, searching. He knows he’s found what he’s looking for when Yoongi arches against him and lets out a hitched whine. Jungkook rubs deep circles against the spot, watching, enthralled, with uneven breaths as Yoongi’s face scrunches up and his whines increase volume as he rocks down on his fingers. 

“Wanna touch you, too,” Yoongi hums out, gliding his hands over the Alpha’s shoulders reverently. “Jungkook,” he moans lowly. 

“You can.” Jungkook presses a kiss against his scent gland, breathing him in. “You can do anything, Jagi-yah.”

And Yoongi’s hands are everywhere—stroking his shoulders and his neck, scratching down his back, palming his chest, brushing his nipples, kneading his abs. Two fingers turn to three as Yoongi pets over him, Jungkook letting out pleased hums and sighs as he rubs his cheek against the elder’s neck, still curling his fingers inside the Omega, tingling with every sound he releases. 

Then, Jungkook’s airy sighs cut off with a choked moan as Yoongi’s hand slips lower, his hand wrapping around the Alpha’s cock. His thumb circles the leaking head, digs into the slit slightly, and Jungkook keens, can’t help but fuck into the circle of Yoongi’s fist, half falling forward to lick between the Omega’s parted lips. 

Yoongi pants shakily, lets his hand lower to the base of Jungkook’s cock, feeling the slight curve there, curious fingers tightening around the almost imperceptible bulge, blinking blown, dazed pupils as Jungkook groans roughly against his jaw, hips bucking forward.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” Yoongi wonders aloud, entranced, fingers still feeling almost innocently over the Alpha’s dick. 

Something proprietorial and possessive curls tight in Jungkook’s gut, an infinitely pleased growl rumbling deep in his chest, lips curled in a satisfied smile at the information. Slipping his fingers from Yoongi, he curls his slicked hand over the Omega’s on his cock, guiding it, wanting him to feel. Suddenly shy, Yoongi tries to pull his hand away, but Jungkook nips his shoulder and keeps his hand there. 

“I’ve never knotted anyone before,” he tells Yoongi in a murmur, assuring him. He intertwines their fingers—moves Yoongi’s hand to cup over the head of his dick, rubbing against the skin. Yoongi makes a small, breathy noise. “You’re my one and only.”

The words, whispered hushed and devoted, have Yoongi curling up into him with a whine. “I’m ready,” he rushes out pleadingly, grinding his own, aching, leaking cock against the younger’s thigh. He feels so damp—wet everywhere, with slick, sweat, and precome. “Please, Kook-ah.”

“Of course,” Jungkook soothes him, removing his fingers gently. They tremble as he reaches out and wipes them carelessly on the sheets, shuffling his weight on his knees, knelt between the elder’s thighs. “Can we stay like this...?”

Yoongi smiles at him—tender and warm—and stretches his hands out to slide them around the younger’s shoulders, hugging the Alpha. Jungkook leans back down readily to meet Yoongi’s pursed, prompting lips halfway. 

“Yes,” the elder agrees, leaning his forehead against Jungkook’s, eyes fluttering shut. “Let’s stay just like this.”

“Okay,” Jungkook whispers into the minuscule space between them. He slides his hand around Yoongi’s thigh, hitching it over his waist. He shifts his hips until his cock slides between the elder’s cheeks, catching on the rim of his stretched entrance. Jungkook moans softly, rubbing against him. “Yoongi... Can I?”

Yes,” Yoongi repeats in a quiet, low whine, his features pinched together in need. His arms tighten around the younger, his legs spreading before clamping down on either side of Jungkook’s waist. 

The initial push has Jungkook’s eyes squeezing shut, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Yoongi opens up easily enough for him—slicked and stretched—but the Omega is still tight, the effect increased as Yoongi clenches around him, his head thrown back in pleasure. Jungkook pants out a hot breath and keeps pushing in, in, in, until his hips are pressed flushed against the curve of the elder’s ass.

Jungkook moans into Yoongi’s neck as the elder shifts and clenches around him experimentally, trying his best to stay still until the Omega tells him he can move. Just being inside Yoongi is enough—feels almost overwhelming. Jungkook could stay like this forever, tied as intimately as possible with his Omega, his face pressed to the elder’s neck. 

It doesn’t take nearly as long as expected for Yoongi to be ready—the benefits of heat. Soon, Yoongi is subtly hitching his hips, cuing the Alpha to move without words as he nuzzles his face against the younger’s shoulder, a soft noise leaving him—something pleased and sated, but still wanting more. 

Leaving his face tucked into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, Jungkook pulls back until just the tip of cock is inside and curls his hips forward slowly, shuddering out a moan at the tingling pleasure that shoots up his spine. Yoongi is making quiet noises into his ear, leaning down to nibble at the lobe and sucking gently. Jungkook lets out a humming moan and moves his hips a bit quicker, settling into a steady tempo—pulling out in long drags and fucking back in, hard and blunt. 

He shifts his hips, determined, and huffs out past a grin when Yoongi yelps quietly, his legs twitching on either side of Jungkook. The Omega digs his heels against the younger’s ass, arms tightening around him. He doesn’t need to say anything—Jungkook keeps aiming for that spot, his breath coming quicker and his hips fucking harder. Yoongi’s letting out small, hiccuping, half cut off whines. Jungkook wants to make him squirm

Their pace increases, the air between them heavy and wet with their panting breaths and low moans. The sounds of his hips meeting Yoongi’s wet ass echo loud in the open bedroom, and again, Jungkook has the quiet, nagging need to cover them, feeling to exposed in the space of his bedroom. In the back of his mind, he makes a mental note to talk to Yoongi about spending his next heat in a smaller space—like the closet. Or maybe they can build a blanket tent together. That’d be fun—

Jungkook lets out a growling hiss when Yoongi clenches down on him in a vice like cinch, nearly painful and so, so pleasurable.

Fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering in their rhythm, which he hadn’t realized had softened in his contemplation. He halts sharply. 

“Pay attention to me,” Yoongi mutters out, nails digging into the younger’s shoulders. Jungkook presses his palms into his waist when Yoongi tries to fuck himself down on his cock, pinning him to the mattress. 

“I was,” Jungkook whines, squeezing his eyes shut, a bit overwhelmed. He must be closer than he thought, because he almost nearly fucking came. 

Yoongi makes a dissatisfied noise, trying aimlessly to buck against Jungkook’s sure hold, limbs wrapped tight around the younger. “Jungkook,” he cajoles in a petulant whine, coaxing him to move. “Kook-ah.”

When Jungkook only stays still, the Omega leans down, mouths against Jungkook’s scent gland and bites down roughly. Jungkook jerks, growling. 

Fuck me,” Yoongi demands, sultry and impatient, teething at Jungkook’s scent gland mercilessly. “Fuck me, Alpha.” The way he says the term is challenging, almost mocking. 

Jungkook lets out a breathy (read: weak) laugh, disbelieving and so incredibly turned on. “You’re such a fucking brat,” he says, but it comes out in a fond half-groan. 

“And you’re not fucking me,” Yoongi grumbles lowly, but he changes strategy, growing limp under Jungkook, pressing sweet, suckling kisses against his neck and cheek. “Please,” he pouts, leaning back to meet Jungkook’s gaze with wide and soft eyes. “Please, Kookie, I need you.”

There’s no way Jungkook could ever deny him anything. “You’re so sly,” he muses, lips quirking into a smile. And dangerous. Yoongi just has to pout at him, and Jungkook is ready to give him everything. 

The elder just bats his lashes—deceptively innocent. The way his lips curl into a smirk as Jungkook starts moving again gives him away. Jungkook smirks back. He’s gonna fuck that smug grin off the elder’s face. 

It only takes a couple of strokes for Jungkook to find the elder’s prostate again, punching unforgiving strokes into the spot. Yoongi arches up against him, keening loudly, and Jungkook smiles, satisfied, rocking his hips harder. He can feel when Yoongi slips a hand in between their chests, gliding down to wrap around his own cock. Jungkook doesn’t stop him, but he does grind out:

“Don’t come until I knot you.” 

The Omega’s breath hitches, fist squeezing the base of his dick. The words came out half-pleadingly, but firm enough that Yoongi whines and nods his head eagerly, staving off his orgasm. Jungkook kisses along his jaw sweetly, a sharp contrast to the powerful thrusts of his hips, and assures him. 

“I’m close, so close,” he murmurs into Yoongi’s ear, mouthing over it. The elder releases a whimper as his head twitches against the air over the sensitive skin below his ear.

And it’s true. He can feel the growing tightness as the base of his cock, can feel the way Yoongi stretches wider around him. The elder can feel it, too, judging by the way he moans brokenly and tosses his head back. 

“Feels so good, Kook. So big,” he slurs, lispy and accented, brows furrowed. This experience has him blindsighted; he knows what to expect in theory, but feeling it... is something else completely. “Is... Is it gonna fit? Oh—

Jungkook preens at the praise and kisses his way from the elder’s chin to his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he soothes Yoongi, licking at the seam of the elder’s lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Hm, I want it. I trust you,” Yoongi sighs, kissing Jungkook back tenderly. “My Kookie. My Alpha.”

“Yes,” Jungkook murmurs against his lips, feeling his gut tense, his hips picking up speed. He keeps thrusting until his cock is almost numb from the tingling tightness swelling at the base, until he has to resort to deep grinds because it’s getting harder to pull out. 

Pleasure sparks in his stomach, circling his hips in deep figure eights, rocking against the spot that has Yoongi whimpering in sensitivity, the Omega’s hand vice tight on his own dick, trembling as he pushes back his orgasm. Jungkook pants out a heavy sigh and leans back to meet his half-lidded gaze. 

Yoongi is flushed, dark hair a matted mess against the pillows. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes red rimmed and damp. His pouty lips are puffy and bright. Red, cherry red—emphasized by the rose dusting his cheeks and the wine colored bruises blooming over his neck and jawline. 

His feline eyes widen as they meet Jungkook’s, soft and wondorous. They rove over Jungkook’s features slowly, taking in every part of him before returning his gaze to the Alpha’s. Then, the corners of his eyes crinkle, his lips stretching into a blissed out, gummy grin, bunching his dumpling, blushed cheeks.

Jungkook smiles back immediately, can almost see his trademark smile reflected in Yoongi’s shining eyes. The little, airy laugh that escapes him melds into a moan, and he stretches to rest his forehead against the elder’s. Grinds his hips, feels the oncoming wave of pleasure as it swells, his heart pounding in his chest.  

Jungkook chokes out a loud moan, snarls as he presses down hard on top of Yoongi, his hips twitching and body shaking as his knot grows, locks them together. And then, he’s coming. 

Yoongi cries out, throws his head back to bare his neck as he releases between them, entire body wracking from the force of it. Jungkook’s mouth waters, his gums aching, and he gasps, still shuddering out his release, the Omega impossibly tight around him. He buries his face against Yoongi’s neck. Lips parted, his warm pants fan against the elder’s scent gland. 

“Yoongi.” There’s heavy anticipation in his tone, a pleading question. 

“I love you,” is what Yoongi breathes back in response, whining in pleased oversensitivity as Jungkook’s hips still hitch and buck into him. One hand hugs around Jungkook’s shoulders, while the other pets through the Alpha’s hair. “I love you so mhmuch, Jungkook.”

It’s everything he needs to hear. Jungkook sniffs, widens his jaw over the Omega’s scent gland, and bites. Yoongi keens—tilts his head down to Jungkook’s neck, and does the same. 

  


 

There’s a moment, with his teeth still dug into Yoongi’s neck. There’s a pleasant haze clouding his mind, his heart stuttering. Yoongi’s teeth are digging into his scent gland, biting down. He feels Yoongi all around him, tastes his life essence on his tongue. Involuntary growls rumble deep in his chest—more like the purrs that make Yoongi giggle. His eyes are squeezed shut, watering, probably; his hips still rocking gently, the two locked together.

His ears are ringing. Pealing—like wind chimes singing in the breeze. Like thousands of little, silver bells. 

Bells.

Jungkook swears he hears bells.

 


 

Beams of light stream past the curtains, cutting across the bedroom. Thousands of tiny specks float in their luminance. Yoongi blinks open sleep heavy lids and stares, watches them swirl. His mind is kind of hazy—half here, half there. The dorm is quiet, peacefully so, save for the barely audible, soft breaths brushing against the nape of his neck. 

There’s a bone deep ache settled in his skin, nestled up right next to tranquil content. His muscles pull, strain as he turns slowly, wincing and biting back hisses at the soreness in his legs, in his everywhere, but Yoongi can’t help but smile. 

Because there’s Jungkook, one hand curled under his chin between them, and the other loosely strung over Yoongi’s waist. Half of his face is smushed against the pillow, lips parted and cheek bunched. His hair is tousled in disarray, strands sticking up every which way. Yoongi reaches out gentle fingers and traces the curve of his jaw. 

Jungkook is charming, even when he’s alseep. Always has an air of youthful innocence. He’s one of those people who light up the room when they walk in; he makes others happier just by being himself—playful and kind and passionate. When he smiles, everyone smiles. 

Yoongi is going to love him forever. 

The Alpha’s lashes flutter at his caress, his lips pressing together as he swallows in his sleep. Yoongi slides his hand into the younger’s hair and smooths it down, smiling softly when Jungkook blinks his eyes open once—twice—and meets his gaze. 

It’s sweet—witnessing the visible way his expression changes. The slow upwards tilt of his lips, the softening corners of his his eyes, the growing gleam in those eyes. Jungkook’s woken up, the first thing he sees is Yoongi watching him with an equally adoring face, and the first thing he does is smile, something small and private. A smile reserved for the two of them, for Yoongi. 

They don’t speak. Yoongi keeps combing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair—tender and affectionate—watching the younger watch him. Eyes flitting over his face, tracing his features. Yoongi doesn’t miss when Jungkook’s gaze dances to his neck, fixating on mirrored crescent moon lacerations now embedded into his skin.

He can’t see the bite he left on Jungkook, but he knows it’s there—can smell it in their now permanently intertwined scents, can feel it down to the marrow of his bones, to the very fabric of his being, his soul. Jungkook is part of him, inscribed in his DNA. 

The hand over Yoongi’s waist glides up his side, coming to a rest on his shoulder. Jungkook presses his thumb into the skin beside his bite. Yoongi sucks in a breath, his neck still tender and stinging. 

Jungkook hums apologetically—shuffles closer to lean down and dust his lips over the mark. Yoongi leans his cheek against the younger’s hair, smiling when the Alpha asks quietly, “How are you feeling?” 

“Hungry,” Yoongi admits with a chuckle, lashes fluttering as Jungkook noses along his neck. They didn’t have much opportunity to eat. “Kind of very sticky. You, Kook?”

Lips kiss along Yoongi’s neck leisurely. Jungkook curls close to him, tucking his head under Yoongi’s chin and holding him snugly. Yoongi strokes a hand over the Alpha’s shoulders, massaging the tired muscle there. 

“Happy,” Jungkook murmurs. 

Yoongi presses his smile against the younger’s hair. “Hmm... Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook sighs, stroking his hand down Yoongi’s back, swirling his fingers into the skin. 

“Me too.”

The sheets shift with soft rustling noises as Jungkook moves back, kissing Yoongi’s chin as he goes. The younger peers up at Yoongi, lips quirked in a small, pleased smile.

“Yeah?” Jungkook copies, eyes shining in a way that has Yoongi flushing. He has an intense, laser sharp focus—determined and unwavering. It shows in his eyes. The younger’s whole demeanor changes. Yoongi still doesn’t quite know what to do when that attentive gaze is fixated on him, softened by love and fondness. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi rests his forehead against Jungkook’s, nuzzling along the line of the younger’s nose, down his cheek.

“Yes,” he whispers, brushing his nose against the Alpha’s—his Alpha’s—jawline. 

Jungkook lets out a noise halfway between a hum and a giggle, turning his head and catching Yoongi’s lips with his own, kissing him softly. “Love you,” he murmurs against the elder’s lips. 

“I love you, too,” Yoongi tells him, hushed. 

They lay, exchanging soft, chaste kisses until the gurgling of their stomachs becomes to loud to ignore. Roughly three days without a solid meal will do numbers. 

“What time is it, do you suppose?” Yoongi asks, when they’re sat up with fruit cups in their hands—just enough to get them by while they clean themselves up.

Jungkook throws his fruit cup back like a drink and practically chugs it. Yoongi watches him with a fond smile, eyes lingering on the healing bite on the younger’s neck; he can’t wait to get some real food in his Alpha. 

“It was barely noon when I checked my phone a few minutes ago,” the younger informs him, tossing the now empty fruit cup into the small trash bin near the nest, filled to the brim with used tissues and wet wipes. Jungkook sighs and falls back against the nest, stretching his arms and legs. 

Yoongi watches him, still spooning sweet, syrupy fruit into his mouth. “We should clean up, love.”

Jungkook groans and rolls closer to him, smushing his face in the space under the elder’s crossed legs, just beneath his thigh. “Ugh,” he huffs. “So much laundry to do.”

“It’s not that bad,” Yoongi tells him, reaching out to run his fingers through the Alpha’s hair, scratching his scalp soothingly. “How about bath and food first? I’ll cook. We can do laundry later.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied noise, lifting his head just enough to kiss the skin of the elder’s thigh. “Sounds good, baby,” he sighs, snuggling back against the nest. “Maybe... we can tell the others they can come home early. If they want?”

“It is awfully quiet without them, huh,” Yoongi agrees, sliding his hand over Jungkook’s shoulders leisurely. “Let’s do that.”

“Yeah, and like. Who am I supposed to brag to about my wonderful mate? I need them back.”

Yoongi snorts, but his cheeks dust pink. “You can tell me about this wonderful, amazing mate of yours.”

Jungkook hums like he’s contemplating it, and Yoongi can practically hear the grin in his voice. “Well,” he starts, still nestled against Yoongi’s thigh.

“My mate’s the cutest, wisest kitten ever, with a heart bigger than his body. He loves quietly, but powerfully, and is fiercely protective of the ones lucky enough to be part of his family. He creates music as beautiful as his soul and deserves everything he has and more, because he’s worked so hard and earned it. I love him more than I’ve loved... anything, and I’m still amazed that he’s somehow mine.”

Fingers still against the Alpha’s skin, Yoongi can only stare down at him with wide eyes, which quickly jump away when the younger slowly turns to gaze up at him. He’s flustered and caught off guard, and Jungkook’s staring at him, intense and unwavering, again. 

He keeps his gaze down on his fruit cup as Jungkook shifts and rises to kneel beside him. Fingers trace his chin, and Yoongi bites his lip as Jungkook guides his head to face him. The Alpha hold him there, and he knows the younger is waiting for him to make eye contact, so he peers up at him past his lashes, shy. 

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispers into the space between them. 

Warmth settles deep in Yoongi’s chest, like a sleepy cat curled up under the sun.  His eyes flutter shut, and he leans into Jungkook’s touch—can still feel the younger’s eyes on him. Why’d he have to word it that way? Yoongi wants to collapse against the nest in a boneless pile of fuzz.  

“My...” Yoongi starts quietly. He clears his throat a bit, and licks his lips. Keeps his gaze averted down. “My mate... is an angel, with the voice of one. He’s brave, kind, humble, and strong in more ways than one. A prince, basically.” 

That earns him a gentle chuckle. 

“He... is warm, and so open minded, and unjudging. He’s fun and playful and bright. He’d sacrifice himself and his own feelings to make others happy. He loves with everything he is, and he deserves everything and more. He makes me feel safe. Okay. Like nothing can hurt me. He makes me feel alive, and young. He lives like life’s an adventure, and I want to be with him wherever he goes.”

Yoongi feels awkward and self-conscious, doesn’t feel like his words make sense, like they’re not as poetic as Jungkook’s. The younger’s not saying anything, not moving. Hell, is he even breathing?

He’s staring down at his fruit cup still, which is how he sees the hand that reaches for his, pulling the cup from his fingers and leaning over him to place it on the floor beside the mattress. The spoon tips out of the cup, leaving a small stain of syrup on the carpet. Yoongi stares at it blankly.

Then, that hand is moving up, cupping his cheek, making him meet Jungkook’s warm eyes, his face flushed and warm under the Alpha’s hands. At least, Jungkook is blushing, too. 

“You’re my happy ever after,” Yoongi breathes out when their gazes lock, unable to hold the words back. It’s beyond cheesy—straight up sappy—but Yoongi can’t find it in himself to regret it. Not when Jungkook’s lips curl into that loving, tender smile reserved for him. 

“Lie with me,” Jungkook murmurs, already tugging Yoongi down to lay against the bed. The elder instantly knows what he’s implying when Jungkook shuffles between his thighs suggestively, if not for the smoldering warmth in the Alpha’s eyes. 

“Jungkook...” 

“Let me love you,” Jungkook whispers. “For just a little longer.”

Yoongi’s arms are already wrapping around him, the Omega easing back against the pillows. 

“Okay,” he breathes. “Just a bit longer.”

 

Notes:

WAHHH *blasts serendipity*

i’m a lil nervous, i hope this last chapter lived up to expectations. this is the first time (tho hopefully not the last) that i’ve completed something so long, so i’m kinda proud of myself (つω`。) thank you so much for reading, commenting, and/or leaving kudos ♡♡♡