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The restaurant’s always busy in the evenings, with half the town coming in for a few drinks after work. Jimin’s glad for the business but he’s tired, his back aching and his feet burning, and he kind of just wants to go home for the night. The only bright side is that Sua is having a blast pretending to be a waitress. Sometimes she’s too sulky to help, claiming a corner to herself and complaining about how bored she is every time Jimin walks by. But today she keeps toddling around the restaurant, asking customers if they need anything else and demanding that Jimin give her things to carry back and forth. Earlier, he had handed her a set of chopsticks and silverware to place on a table and she had beamed like he had given her a trophy. 


“Your dreams are about to come true,” Taehyung says from his perch at the counter. “She’s going to inherit the restaurant.”


“Yeah, today,” Jimin mutters. “In twenty years, she’s going to wake up and tell me she’s selling it. But maybe I’ll be dead already and it won’t even matter — ”


Taehyung reaches across the counter and smacks Jimin on the head with his napkin. “Stop spiraling. You’re so dramatic.”


Jimin doesn’t manage a retort because a customer’s calling out to him. 


“Excuse me, some more soju?” she asks, and Jimin waves to show he’s heard. 


He grabs a bottle and slips out from behind the counter, maneuvering through the closely-set tables to reach her and her friends. When he’s tired, Jimin grows more sensitive to other people’s scents. Right now, the overwhelming mix of scents is making him a little dizzy, and not in a good way. 


Someone shifts their chair without noticing him, and he ducks neatly out of the way. 


“Careful,” a low voice murmurs, and there’s a hand on his lower back, steadying him. 


Jimin doesn’t have to look to know who it is. He looks anyway, the back of his neck prickling with heat, and Jeon Jungkook’s casting him a cursory, pleasant glance. He drops his hand, but Jimin’s skin burns where he’s been touched. Jungkook’s with a few of his firefighter buddies today, though Jungkook isn’t drinking like the rest of them. Jimin’s been spending the evening trying very, very hard not to look at him. Now that he’s made the mistake, he can feel his breath catching in his throat; Jungkook’s almost absurdly handsome, all long wavy hair and sharp angles and soft eyes. 


Jimin gives him a nod of thanks and moves along to do his job, though the flush doesn’t quite fade from his cheeks. When he makes it back to Taehyung, he’s met with a shit-eating grin. 


“Don’t look now, but someone’s staring.”


“Shut up,” Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at him like Sua always does these days. 


“He’s been single for a little while now, you know,” Taehyung whispers conspiratorially, leaning across the counter so Jimin can hear him. 


Jimin tries not to show it, but he’s surprised. Last he heard, Jungkook had been dating someone for a while — he’d assumed it was serious. That’s part of why he’s never looked for too long. 


Taehyung’s waggling his eyebrows. “He’s still staring.”


“I’m gonna kill you,” Jimin says cheerfully, and then Sua’s climbing onto a stool to catch his attention, so he puts his best mom voice back on. “What is it, sweetie?”


“Somebody wants water.”


“Who wants water, baby?”


“Just give me water and I’ll take it.”


Jimin sighs. He knows better than to argue with her. He fills a glass with water and hands it to her, slipping back out from behind the counter so he can follow her to her destination just to make sure she doesn’t drop it. 


Of course, given Jimin’s marvelous good luck, she seems to be heading straight for Jungkook’s table. Jungkook’s watching her walk toward him, practically glowing with how wide his smile is. 


“Careful,” Jimin says weakly, but Sua’s got the glass clutched in two hands and hasn’t spilled a drop yet. 


“Here you go, Mr. Customer.” Sua sets the water down carefully on the table. Jimin doesn’t miss the way Jungkook's hand hovers at the ready in case she needs help. His traitorous heart gives a little flutter. 


“Thank you!” Jungkook exclaims in that overly enthusiastic way one can only be with children. “Wow, this glass of water looks absolutely perfect. It’s just what I wanted.”


Sua beams. “See, I filled it almost to the top but not to the top because Mommy says if you fill it up too much it’s gonna spill.”


Jimin huffs a little. Here she is, taking credit for his hard work, the little sneak. 


“Well, good thing you listened. Your mommy sounds pretty smart.”


Jungkook doesn’t look at Jimin when he says it, but Jimin can feel his attention all the same. He flushes right to his toes. A few of his buddies are switching from staring at Sua fondly to exchanging knowing glances with each other instead. “Alright, sweetie, after you give the customer what they want, you have to come back to the counter.”


“Okay,” Sua says, a little despondent. “You can tell me if you need something else. I’ll bring it really fast.”


“Really fast?” Jungkook exclaims. He’s absolutely perfect — just the right amount of drama, not too much so as to be condescending, but enough to keep Sua entertained. “Wow, you’re the best waitress I’ve ever had.”


“Really!” Sua shrieks, her smile splitting her face. “Did you hear that, Mommy?”


“I heard,” Jimin murmurs, a smile spreading across his face at last. She looks like he just made her whole day. “Thank you, Jungkook-ssi. Let’s head back, sweetheart.”


“One sec,” Jungkook says, digging into his pockets. “The best waitress ever deserves a tip.”


“What’s a tip?” Sua asks, and Jimin opens his mouth to explain, and also to tell Jungkook they’re not a tipping establishment, but he beats him to it.


“A tip is an extra special reward for doing a good job.” He comes out with a few pieces of candy, and Sua’s face lights up. She takes them with wide eyes, and Jimin can’t bear to be a stick in the mud about it when she looks so happy. 


“Sua, what do you say?”


“Thank you!” she blurts, finally allowing Jimin to take her by the shoulders and turn her back toward the counter. 


“Thanks again, Jungkook-ssi,” Jimin calls over his shoulder, eyes crinkling in fondness. Jungkook’s staring back, the corner of his mouth curled up, and Jimin can feel the back of his neck prickling with heat again. Jungkook didn’t have to do all that, but he did, and now Sua has an extra bounce in her step. 


Taehyung’s watching them approach with raised eyebrows. “Well, that was nice of him.”


“Yeah,” Jimin murmurs, resisting the urge to glance back. “It was.”


“Didn’t you say he was moving in this week? Has he yet?”


Jimin doesn’t want to get too candid about Jungkook in front of Sua, so he pats her head to get her attention. “Sua, go check if Grandma and Grandpa need any help in the kitchen, okay?”


She bounces off to do his bidding, and Jimin returns behind the counter to unpack a new box of beer and restock the fridge. The house next door to Jimin's place has been on sale for quite a while now, almost two years. There isn’t a lot of movement in a town as small as theirs; most of the residents live in family homes, and everyone’s eager to move to the city, not come back. But earlier this year it had been sold at last, and Jimin’s mom picked up from the town gossip that it was Jeon Jungkook, the young firefighter who would be moving in next door. Alone. 


“He moved in yesterday,” Jimin says. 


Jungkook had been coming down throughout the past month, moving his things in slowly and fixing up the parts of the house that had fallen into disrepair. A week ago, he had caught Jimin outside and introduced himself as his new neighbor. They already knew each other of course, but it was a nice formality. Jimin’s mother had even sent him a whole spread of food in welcome yesterday, going a little overboard. She has the tendency to treat everyone around Jimin’s age like her own kid. 


“You’re so lucky,” Taehyung complains, mouth twisting into a pout. “Sexy alpha as your new neighbor. Hope he changes with his windows open.”


“Shut up!” Jimin shrieks, leaning over the counter to swat at him. 


“Don’t act like you aren’t thinking the same thing.”


Jimin’s definitely been thinking the same thing, but hell will freeze over before he ever admits Taehyung’s right about something. “Eat your food and let me do my job, you horny bitch.”


“What’s a horny bitch?”


Sua’s voice, tiny and curious behind him, has Jimin’s jaw dropping in mortification. Taehyung, useless as he is, bursts into uncontrollable laughter. Jimin groans, dropping his head on the counter. He can allow himself at least a brief meltdown before he has to turn around and give his daughter an answer. 




Jimin’s head snaps up. Jungkook’s leaning an arm on the counter, lips stretched into a smile. Jimin very pointedly does not stare at the way the sleeve of his t-shirt hugs his bicep. 


“The food was amazing, as usual. We left the money on the table.”


Jimin puts on his work face. “Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for coming.”


“Have a good night,” Jungkook says cheerfully. “I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure. And tell Sua I think she’s got a future in the restaurant industry ahead of her.”


Jimin laughs, waving him out, and even more pointedly ignoring the fit of Jungkook’s sweats over his ass as he leaves the restaurant. With a long-suffering sigh, he turns around and prepares to explain that Sua is not allowed to ever say the words “horny bitch” again. 


Jimin’s struggling with the groceries and a bottle of laundry detergent, sweaty from the car ride home. He stumbles through the front door, a little winded. He really should have made the two trips to the house but they only close the restaurant on Mondays and he’s already spent the whole day running errands.


He’s tired.


“Mom!” Jimin calls, hoping she’s home and not gossiping at a friend’s place.


“In the kitchen,” her reply comes and Jimin manages to drag himself there, puttered out. He lets everything fall to the kitchen floor, shoulders sagging in relief. His mother looks up from the book in her hands, a rather unimpressed look on her face as she grabs the pomegranate rolling out of one of the bags.


Jimin blows a stray strand of hair out of his face and straightens up, a hand finding his aching back and he lets out a whine. “I’m exhausted!”


“Did you get me my Tiger Balm?” she asks, standing up to help Jimin put away the groceries. Her glasses are balanced precariously at the end of her nose and Jimin wants to push them up but knows better. He’s had his hand slapped back one too many times to be making that mistake again.


“Yes, Mom, I got it,” Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair. Sua hasn’t come shrieking into the room yet and he hadn’t seen her in the living room either when he’d walked past. “You only told me to get it like a hundred times.”


“Don’t you take that tone with me,” his mother snaps, smacking him with her book as she walks past him, the laundry detergent in hand. “Did you get it on sale?”


“Yes, Mom,” Jimin says, holding back the urge to say Duh. After all, who did she take him for?




She disappears down the hall and Jimin stares at the groceries on the floor and gets to work. There’s no way Jimin’s making dinner tonight, not that they usually did on Mondays. Running a restaurant meant no one really felt like cooking on their one day off. Maybe they could order in some fried chicken, his mouth watering at just the thought.


“Where’s Dad?” he asks, his mother walking back into the kitchen. Jimin strains his neck to see if his father’s outside but the backyard’s empty. “And Sua?”


“Your father’s gone fishing with your uncle,” she answers, taking the banana milk in Jimin’s hands and putting it away herself. “And Sua’s playing with that nice Jeon boy. He’s so handsome, Jimin-ah. When are you going to find yourself a nice boy, huh? It wouldn’t hurt to dress up a little nicer when you go out, you know. Put on a little make up and — ”


“Mom!” Jimin groans, not at all in the mood for another of her lectures. Soon he’d be hearing about how she wants more grandchildren like one little devil spawn isn’t enough. Not that he doesn’t love Sua with every fibre of his being, but she’s a handful.


It takes a second for what she’s said to click and then Jimin’s eyes are widening. “Wait! What do you mean she’s playing with the Jeon boy? Jungkook doesn’t have a kid.”


“I’m well aware. He did some presentation at Sua’s school today and you know how she gets.”


Oh, Jimin knew. He blanches, glancing at the clock hung over the sliding doors that led to their backyard. It was a little past five. Sua’s probably driven Jungkook crazy by now.


“Mom, how could you let her go over there? We don’t even know Jungkook!”


“What are you talking about?” his mother scolds, her voice rising in pitch. “Jungkook grew up right here! I saw him in diapers! His mother plays baduk with me every Friday night.”


“You saw half the town in diapers!” Jimin shouts back, already heading for the front door. “That doesn’t mean you know them!”


He doesn’t catch whatever she says as he hurries over to Jungkook’s house, already flustered that she’d pawned his daughter off to Jungkook at the first opportunity. His mother is a busybody and he knows exactly what she’s up to.


“Sua!” Jimin calls, slipping through the front gate of Jungkook’s house. He’s barely made it two steps into the small front yard when he hears his daughter’s laughter coming from somewhere from the back of the house. “Sua, sweetheart?”




Jimin rushes toward her voice and regrets it immensely when he collides right into a sturdy chest. He nearly topples over too easily, an embarrassing squawk of surprise leaving him as he flails, but big hands catch him and Jimin’s brain fizzles right out. He can’t remember the last time he’s been held up against such a firm chest, face flushing red hot. 


His hands are right on top of Jungkook’s pecs.


“I’m — I’m so sorry!” Jimin squeaks, the heat of Jungkook’s hands on his back sinking through his thin t-shirt like it’s nothing. He’s enveloped in the scent of amber, warmth sinking into him like he’s been wrapped up in a blanket.




Jungkook’s voice is a sweet drawl, and Jimin snaps out of whatever haze he’s wandered into, letting out a nervous laugh. He attempts to pull right out of Jungkook’s hold, cheeks flushed. He’s going to have nightmares about Jungkook’s chest. His mother’s going to be so smug.


“T-thank you,” Jimin fumbles out, refusing to meet Jungkook’s gaze. He feels like his heart’s going to race right out of his chest.


“Mommy!” Sua cries, running over to him from where she’d been kneeling in some dirt. She jumps up and down excitedly once she reaches him. “Mommy! Mr. Firefighter is showing me how to plant flowers and you know what? He came to my class today and showed us — ”


“Oh, that’s amazing baby. I’m so proud of you.” Jimin smiles at her, pulling her closer and giving Jungkook an apologetic glance. Sua keeps chattering on, unaffected, and Jimin feels even worse. “I’m so sorry! I had to run errands and I didn’t think my mom would just let her come over. You’ve probably had such a long — ”


“Hey, hey,” Jungkook interrupts, his smile so genuinely kind that it makes Jimin’s heart skip a beat. “Slow down, Jimin-ssi. It’s okay. I really don’t mind that she came over.”


“That’s very sweet of you to say.” Jimin wishes his voice didn’t wobble quite the way it did, relieved and guilty all at once.


“Sua’s a great kid,” Jungkook smiles, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “I really don’t mind.”


“Hey!” Sua cries, scowling up at Jungkook as she smooths her hair. Her scent’s soured. “Mommy says you’re not supposed to touch people without their per-permission!”


Jungkook looks momentarily stunned before he laughs, grinning widely at her. He squats down to be at her eye level and Jimin does his utmost to not stare at the way his biceps bulge. “Your mommy’s absolutely right. I’m very sorry. Will you forgive me?”


Sua contemplates it for a minute, lips pursing into a pout. “I guess so,” she says, like she’s doing Jungkook a favour.


“Sua!” Jimin warns, and his daughter has the decency to look a little ashamed. She buries her face into Jimin’s leg, her arms thrown around him and refuses to look at Jungkook.


“I’m so sorry, Jungkook-ssi.” He says, bowing in apology, already sure he’d be ending the night with a headache. “Thank you so much for looking after her.”


“It’s really okay,” Jungkook smiles, standing back up. He reaches out and gives Jimin’s arm a soft squeeze, there and then gone. Jimin’s breath hitches. “Pups have a lot of energy when they’re young. It’s hard keeping up, I bet.” 


“I try my best,” Jimin mumbles, finding his cheeks burning under Jungkook’s intent gaze. He can’t help but notice that he’s the perfect height for Jimin to just lean in and rest his head against his shoulder. There’s this amused twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes, his lips stretching over a perfect set of teeth, scent sweet and warm. 


“Alphas are especially a handful.” Jungkook gives him a knowing look, winking at Sua when he catches the dirty look she’s giving him.


Jimin can’t help but laugh, stifling his giggles when Sua looks up at him, betrayed. “Not you, baby. You’re the best alpha.”


“Thank you Mommy!” Sua preens under the praise, practically glowing, her scent sweetening and thickening in the air between them. She turns to Jungkook fully then and tells him somberly, “You shouldn’t be a bad boy. Your mommy will be sad.”


“Sua!” Jimin exclaims, shooting Jungkook another apologetic look. He squeezes the back of Sua’s neck in warning. “You can’t talk to — ”


“Okay, I promise I won’t be bad,” Jungkook grins, playing along. He sticks his hand out, pinky finger raised. “But you have to promise to be good for your mommy, too.”


Jimin can’t imagine Jungkook giving his mother a hard time. In Jimin’s mother’s words, he was a nice boy. The sort of alpha you wanted to bring home to your parents.


Jimin didn’t have a shot in hell.


Sua stares at Jungkook’s hand before reaching up and hooking her pinky into his and Jimin’s eyes flutter shut, the disbelief at his own daughter not quite sinking in. Her hand is so tiny next to his and Jungkook’s amber scent engulfs them, comforting in a way it has no right to be.


“And you’re welcome to come by anytime you want, Sua, but make sure you tell your mommy first.”


“Really?” Sua exclaims, eyes alight as she grins wide at Jungkook. She leaves Jimin’s side, practically vibrating on the spot.


Jimin doesn’t have it in him to reprimand her, not when she looks so happy. He can feel himself deflate, offering Jungkook an appreciative smile instead. “Thank you, Jungkook-ssi. For everything.”


“My pleasure,” Jungkook says, giving Jimin the sort of charming smile that made his belly do loop-di-loops. 


“Come on, Sua,” Jimin instructs, taking his daughter’s hand. “It’s dinner time and you’ve bothered Jungkook-ssi enough. Who’s going to do your homework, hmm?”


“But Mommy! I hate homework,” Sua whines, scent souring. 


“Have a goodnight, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook says, waving them off. 


Jimin turns to shuffle his daughter home. His smile’s soft, eyes softer, and Jimin swallows hard. Whatever he’d thought having Jeon Jungkook as his neighbour would be like, it hadn’t been this. And Jimin’s not sure he can handle this.




Jimin feels bad that Sua’s always at the restaurant because of him, so whenever they have a slow day, he leaves early to pick her up from school and spend some time with her at home. The problem is that being home means he’s confronted with the five hundred and one things that need to be taken care of, so he always ends up even busier. It works out alright; Sua likes adventuring alone more than anything. Right now she’s outside doing who-knows-what, and Jimin’s lying sideways on the kitchen floor scrubbing gunk from under the cabinets. 


He’s really too tired to be doing this. His back’s aching and his feet hurt and he’s had a headache building since morning. But his parents are getting older, and they can barely manage the restaurant let alone take care of the house. He has to pick up the slack wherever he can. Sua can be pretty helpful when she’s in the mood, but in the end she’s still just a child. 


Jimin sits up, wiping sweat from his brow, and sighs. That’s about as clean as it’s going to get. Getting to his feet with a groan, he stretches his aching muscles and leans out the open window to see where Sua’s gone. She isn’t in the front yard which means she’s probably in the back terrorizing Doraemon. 


Then he hears the telltale sound of his daughter bursting into tears. 


“Shit,” Jimin mutters. He quells the instinctual panic and goes for the first aid kit he keeps in the cabinet.


With an alpha for a daughter, he’s used to her getting into all sorts of trouble — climbing the wall, chasing raccoons, trying to kick a football over the house. Jimin remembers being sporty and playful as a child, but for the most part, he was a well-behaved kid. Never did anything to cause his parents grief. Sua, on the other hand, seems like she’s always searching for the best way to give him a headache. 


With the first aid kit in hand, Jimin runs out the back door just in time to see Jungkook vaulting over the wall that joins their backyards. He does it one-handed, launching himself over like it’s nothing, the corded muscles in his forearm popping. 


Jimin’s stomach leaps right into his throat, his mind going a little hazy. 


Sua’s sitting under the big oak tree, and Jungkook crouches by her side, speaking to her in a voice too low for Jimin to hear. She’s dashing at her eyes. Jimin picks up on the situation quickly enough. Doraemon, their menace of a cat, is perched on a too-high branch in the tree, yowling in distress. Sua’s knees are skinned, blood dripping down her calves. Jimin winces, his heart clenching as he catches up to them. 


“Don’t worry,” Jungkook’s saying, the comforting pheromones coming off him in waves. They even start to calm Jimin down, his warm amber scent filling Jimin’s lungs. “I’ll get him, okay?”


“Mommy!” Sua wails at the sight of him, holding her arms out. He crouches and scoops her into his lap, kissing her head. Her scent is sour with distress, but it softens when she buries her face in his neck and breathes him in. 


“I’m here, sweetheart. Look, it’s just a scratch. Mommy will clean it right up.”


Jungkook’s already climbing the tree. Jimin and Sua pause to watch him as he scrambles up deftly, reaching from branch-to-branch. Jimin swallows harshly, gaze catching on the bulge of his biceps and rippling back muscles as he climbs. When he makes it to Doraemon, he holds on with one arm and reaches for the cat with the other. Doraemon is a prickly little thing but even he isn’t stupid enough to fight when being saved. He lets Jungkook pick him up and drape him over his shoulder. It would be a comical sight — Doraemon’s yowling face, skinny body stretched over Jungkook’s shoulder — if Jimin wasn’t so damn attracted to Jungkook. 


Of course he’s good at this, too, he’s a firefighter, and isn’t that what firefighters do? Save kids and kittens and all-around be good people? Jimin doesn’t even know why he bothers to look. Jungkook is just such a good alpha. Jimin almost can’t believe an alpha as good as him really exists. What he can believe is that fate has been cruel enough to him to dangle someone like Jungkook right in front of his eyes, so he can perpetually suffer.  


“Doraemon!” Sua cries. Jungkook drops down next to them and gives her the cat. She clutches Doraemon tightly to her chest, and for once, he doesn’t try to claw his way out of her arms. “Thank you, Mr. Firefighter.”


“Jungkook-ssi,” Jimin starts. He’s holding onto Sua probably as tight as she’s holding onto her cat. “Thank you so much.”


Jungkook rubs the back of his head, bashful. “It’s not a problem, really. I saw her try to climb the tree from my window and figured something like this was gonna happen.”


“Sua,” Jimin admonishes. “You should have come and gotten me. You can’t just go around climbing trees that high, it’s dangerous.”


Sua just pouts at him. “But I had to save Doraemon.”


“It’s okay,” Jungkook interjects gently. “You know how kids are, Jimin-ssi. They have to try.”


Especially alphas; Jimin hears the unsaid words. He sighs. Sometimes it’s hard to let go. “Yeah. You’re right.”


“Alright, kiddo, you should probably let that cat go before you suffocate him,” Jungkook says wryly. “We gotta get you cleaned up.”


Sua huffs, but she lets Doraemon go, and he runs off so fast he sprays soil behind him. “His name is Doraemon.”


“Doraemon,” Jungkook amends, and Jimin drags the first aid kit over so he can pull out what he needs. 


“You said in class you’re supposed to call 119 when your cat gets stuck in a tree,” Sua says solemnly. 


“I did say that,” Jungkook agrees. “Then a firefighter can come help. But you’re so lucky, you have a firefighter for a neighbor.”


Jimin wipes the blood away with a napkin and pulls out the alcohol wipes next. 


“No, those hurt,” Sua whines, eyeing them with distrust. 


“Come on, you were brave enough to climb a tree but you’re scared of some alcohol wipes?” Jungkook exclaims, his expression just a little exaggerated. Jimin can’t believe he’s so good with kids.


“I’m not scared!” Sua proclaims, but Jimin sees the way Jungkook scoots his hand closer to her, an option. As Jimin nears her scrape with the wipe, she reaches out and grabs Jungkook’s hand. Her small one clasps around a few of his fingers, and Jimin’s heart aches a little. 


Life really isn’t fair. 


He’s as quick and gentle as he can be, but Sua’s lip still trembles when he wipes her scrapes. It seems like she’s putting on a valiant effort for Jungkook though, and she doesn’t cry again. He bandages her knees and sits back with a smile. 


“See, all done!” Jimin smiles. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”


“Look at that,” Jungkook says proudly. “You’ve got such a brave little alpha, Jimin-ssi.”


“I sure do,” Jimin murmurs, stroking Sua’s hair back from her forehead. Her earlier distress is all but gone, scent returned its usual sweetness. She’s beaming at Jungkook, proud of herself for impressing him. The way she seems to seek his approval is almost beginning to make Jimin jealous — but mostly, it’s making his heart flutter.


“Alright, little alpha, let’s get you inside.” Jungkook looks to Jimin for approval first, then to Sua. “Can I pick you up, Sua?”


Jimin expects her to protest that she can walk, but instead she nods shyly. Jungkook lifts her easily into his arms, letting Jimin lead the way into the house. He’s a little relieved he’s walking ahead of them; he can hide his blushing cheeks, and he doesn’t have to look at Jungkook for too long. The sight of him carrying his kid might just send him into an early heat. 


He walks Jungkook through the kitchen and to the living room, where he sets Sua down on the couch. He tugs the throw that’s sitting folded on the back of the couch over her, tucking her in carefully. Jimin’s really going to lose it. His face is hot. Jungkook’s scent fills the small space quickly, and Jimin takes a few steps toward the kitchen to clear his head. 


“Hot cocoa, Mommy!” Sua demands, clearly all better but ready to milk her injury for all it’s worth.


“Say please,” Jungkook admonishes, and she huffs. 




Jimin shakes his head. “Sure thing, princess. Jungkook-ssi, can I offer you something to drink? It’s the least I can do.”


Jungkook trails after him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while Jimin sets a pot of water to boil for Sua’s cocoa. “I wouldn’t say no to some tea.”


“Tea it is.” Jimin glances back at him and realises Jungkook’s staring. His gaze drags up his body when Jimin catches him, and Jimin feels the hint of a smirk stretching at his lips. He turns back to the stove and realises he isn’t exactly dressed for company — leggings and a pullover. Jungkook clearly doesn’t seem to mind. 


He sets another pot of water to boil and opens the cabinet over the stove to fetch the jar of tea. He has to stand on his tiptoes to reach, and if he arches his back a little more than necessary — well. He can’t be blamed. 


“How do you like it?” Jimin asks, tossing Jungkook another look over his shoulder. He’s looking back, his gaze fixed and intense. Jimin’s skin prickles, and he licks his lips. It’s always like this with them — sideways glances and lingering stares. Taehyung’s always telling him if he got laid as often as he eye-fucked Jungkook, maybe he’d be less uptight. 


“However you take it,” Jungkook answers, voice low. 


Jimin can feel the flush down his neck. He returns his attention to the stove for his own sanity, preparing Sua’s cocoa first and taking her the mug in the living room. She’s turned on the TV and barely even notices him. 


Jimin hands Jungkook his tea next, putting just enough distance between them to drink his own — not too close that his scent makes him dizzy, but close enough that he can breathe it in, relish in its warmth. 


“You’re really good with her,” he says quietly. 


“I didn’t do much,” Jungkook says. “You’re too nice to me, that’s all.”


Jimin shakes his head. “I mean it. She’s my kid, you know? I’m sensitive to how people treat her. And you’re really good with her.”


Jungkook looks pleased and a little bashful, gazing down into his mug. “She’s a good kid.” Then he looks up, expression turning sly. “And you’re a good mom.”


Jimin blushes all the way to his toes. 


“This is delicious,” Jungkook says, holding the mug up, continuing the praise train, and Jimin flushes harder. “Great mom, great at making tea, best restaurant in town, what can’t you do?”


“Stop,” Jimin whines, waving him off, and Jungkook grins. 


“I mean it,” Jungkook echoes. 


“You’re too much,” Jimin huffs. 


Jungkook finishes his tea quicker than Jimin would like, and he insists on washing both of their mugs. Jimin tries not to dwell too much at Jeon Jungkook in his kitchen, standing broad-shouldered at the sink. It’s a little too domestic for him to handle. Jimin walks him to the door, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed as Jungkook hops down two steps at once. 


“Thanks again,” Jimin calls, and if he’s leaning in a way that shows off the line of his body, well. He should be allowed to flirt every now and then. He deserves that much at least. 


Jungkook’s backwards glance is appreciative, gaze raking Jimin’s body in a way that makes him squirm. “See you around, Jimin-ssi.”


Then he’s off, breeze curling in the wavy locks of his hair, and Jimin sighs more dreamily than he would ever dare to admit. 


Taehyung’s always telling Jimin that he’s allergic to rest, and he’s beginning to think he might be right. 


Saturdays are busy days at the restaurant, but his parents had sent him home almost forcibly that morning after he kept coughing all over the check-out counter. It’s just a minor cold; Sua’s always bringing home something from school, and Jimin feels like he’s perpetually sick with that something. They’d called Chaeyoung in to cover for him and he feels bad, but his mom’s pretty scary when she’s determined about something. 


Still, he doesn’t feel that sick, so he couldn’t bring himself to just waste the day. Now he’s got a mask over his nose as he cooks Sua her favorite noodles. Most of what they eat comes from the restaurant, but Jimin always tries to cook her favorite dishes every now and then when he has the chance. 


“Come try a bite and tell me if it tastes right,” Jimin calls, and Sua comes scrambling into the kitchen from who-knows-where. 


He picks up the noodles with his chopsticks and cups his hand underneath, blowing on them gently before he puts them into Sua’s wide-open mouth. She chews for a moment, nose scrunched as she contemplates. Then, finally, “It’s good.”


“Thanks, you little critic.”


“Mr. Firefighter says you shouldn’t leave things plugged in when you aren’t using them,” Sua says imperiously, pointing at the phone charger Jimin has plugged in near the stove. His phone’s in his pocket, done charging. “You’re gonna start a fire, Mommy.”


Jimin heaves a big sigh. 


She’s been like this all week. Mr. Firefighter this, Mr. Firefighter that. Ever since Jungkook gave his fire safety presentation in her class, Sua has been absolutely insufferable. 


Mr. Firefighter says you have to call 119 for an em-emergency but only a real one, no lying! 


Mr. Firefighter says you should have smoke alarms in all the rooms. Are you gonna buy more Mommy?


It’s like she’s just gone and imprinted on the first grown-up alpha to give her the time of day. He can’t blame her. Both his parents are betas, and Taehyung’s an omega. Jimin doesn’t have a lot of alphas in his extended family either, so poor Sua’s been a lone wolf. 


So he gets it, but that doesn’t mean he has to be particularly happy about it. As if Jungkook isn’t haunting his every waking (and sleeping) moment enough as it is. He’s always admired Jungkook from afar, but it was a distant thing. Then he’d been in a relationship for a few years, so Jimin had stopped paying attention. Now all of a sudden it feels like Jimin can’t get a break. 


“Alright, alright,” Jimin mutters, unplugging the charger and handing it to Sua. “Happy? Now go put it in my room.”


“And you shouldn’t stand so close to the stove because your sweater’s gonna catch on fire and then burn down the whole house. And Mr. Firefighter doesn’t have all his firefighting stuff at home so he can’t even save us.”


Jimin casts his gaze to the ceiling like there’s someone up there who can save him. “Go put the charger in my room, Sua, then come eat lunch.”


“I’m just saying,” Sua huffs before running off to do his bidding. 


He moves the noodles to the sink to drain them and catches a glimpse through the window of none other than Mr. Firefighter himself. He’s watering the row of petunias in one corner of his garden, back turned to Jimin, and because Jimin’s so lucky, he’s shirtless, too, only in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips, revealing the dip in the small of his back. The smooth expanse of his back is broad and strong, muscles shifting under skin as he moves, tapering off into a narrow waist. Jimin’s taken aback to see that he has tattoos — plenty of them. He spots waves on his ribs when Jungkook shifts to the right, revealing his flank, and another tattoo on his shoulder that he can’t quite make out but looks like it has fire. The one on his back is the largest and most obvious — it’s a wolf howling at the moon. 


Hot water splashes his hand and Jimin jumps, coming to his senses. God, he was practically salivating. He blushes even though there’s no one to witness his shame. He finishes draining the noodles, sets them on the stove, and very decidedly pulls the curtains shut over the window. 


Jeon Jungkook is going to drive him crazy. 


“Jimin-ah,” Mrs. Lee calls, her hand waving in the air. Jimin wipes his still wet hands on his apron and rushes over, not wanting to keep her waiting. She’s a good friend of his mother’s and always came by with her family on Friday nights.


“What can I get for you?” Jimin smiles, his scent sweet and welcoming. Mrs. Lee’s alpha son, a good fifteen years older than Jimin, gives him a once over, eyes lingering, and Jimin’s skin crawls but he keeps his composure, smile never faltering.


Mrs. Lee ends up ordering more food and Jimin hurries back to the kitchen to give the order to his parents, eyeing Sua in the corner. She’s been preoccupied with a colouring book, but Jimin knows her attention will waver and she’ll come whining to him for something new to do.


“Take a break, boss,” Chaeyoung says, smiling as she passes by Jimin while rolling a cart laden with food onto the dining floor. “I’ve got the floor.”


Jimin’s shoulders droop, sending Chaeyoung a grateful smile. The restaurant does well enough that they can afford a few part-time employees to help on the busier days, and with how Jimin’s feet are aching, he’s more grateful than ever.


He goes to Sua immediately, collapsing into the chair next to her and giving her a tired smile, his hand reaching to smooth her back automatically.


“How’s your colouring going, baby?”


“I’m making a drawing,” Sua informs him, her legs swinging back and forth under her chair. Jimin can see the stick figures coming to life on the page. She’s drawn Doraemon, too, and he’s bigger than everyone else on the page with two misshapen ears.


“Oh, and what’re you drawing?”


“It’s Mommy, duh,” Sua says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.


Jimin smiles, leaning in to take a look at her drawing a little closer. “And is that you?” he asks, pointing to a smaller stick figure next to who Jimin assumes is him. The yellow hair is a giveaway.


“Mmhmm,” Sua hums, moving on to draw her grandparents. Jimin props his chin on a hand, watching his daughter at work, and it all feels worth it. All the struggle and heartache and late nights. He’d been 19 when his college — he doesn’t want to call him his boyfriend — fling had knocked him up and then turned tail and ran. Jimin’s whole life had changed in a single moment and he’d sat crying at his mother’s feet, only to have his father ask him what he was crying for. 


You don’t need that useless piece of shit, you have me.


“Mommy, did you know Song-seonsaengnim got married? She showed us pictures in class,” Sua says, bright eyes flickering up from her page to look at Jimin.


“Did she?” Jimin asks, eyes widening in surprise.


“Yeah Mommy! She looked so pretty,” Sua sighs dreamily. “I wanna wear a pretty dress, too.”


“We can get you a pretty dress, too, baby,” Jimin smiles, his eyes drifting back to the dining floor. Everything seems to be under control. Chaeyoung’s getting some new customers to an empty table. He should get up and help. Sua’s fine.


“I want a pink one,” Sua says, looking up at Jimin from her drawing. It’s mostly done, her whole family drawn out. The fridge at home is already covered and Jimin wonders if he can get away with putting them up at the restaurant.


“Sure baby,” Jimin agrees, pushing himself back onto his feet. His whole body protests, tired beyond belief, but they don’t close for another five hours and he couldn’t just let Chaeyoung do everything.


“What about you Mommy? Aren’t you gonna wear a dress?”


“You want me to dress up with you?” Jimin coos, touched. Chaeyoung’s at the front door again, letting someone in but Jimin’s attention is diverted to his daughter.


“You have to wear a dress when you get married.”


Jimin pauses, brows furrowing together. “Baby, I’m not getting married.”


Sua doesn’t seem to like that one bit, her impassive expression shifting into a frown. “Mommy, are you gonna die alone?”






Jungkook’s voice comes from Jimin’s left and he must be wearing his shock openly because Jungkook’s gone wide-eyed. The skin on the back of Jimin’s neck prickles, embarrassment flooding through him as he realises Jungkook’s heard his daughter.


“Sua” he croaks out, doesn’t even know what to say. What is he supposed to say?


“I can...come back?” Jungkook offers, looking just as uncomfortable as Jimin, motioning toward the front door. His scent’s growing stronger by the second, like he feels the need to comfort Jimin somehow and that only increases Jimin’s mortification.


Of all the things Jungkook could have heard his daughter saying!


“Mr. Firefighter!” Sua exclaims, eyes practically sparkling. She jumps out of her seat, drawing abandoned, and clamours over to Jungkook. “Are we really gonna go to the beach?”


“The beach?” Jimin repeats, refusing to even acknowledge what Sua’s said. Jungkook looks at him, a little concerned but before he can explain it, Jimin curses under his breath. 


How could he have forgotten? Sua had come running over to him yesterday, practically screaming as she begged Jimin for permission to go to the beach with Jungkook. She’d spent the entire afternoon “helping” Jungkook plant flowers, and Jimin had seen the hopeful look Jungkook had sent him from over the fence. He hadn’t been able to say no. Now he almost wishes he had.


“The beach, no, I remember. God, it’s been so busy all day I completely forgot,” Jimin rushes out, a hand carding through his hair. He suddenly feels even more haggard, the day’s work weighing down on him.


Was he going to die alone?




Jungkook looks like he wants to say something but Jimin just smiles, taking a step toward Sua. “You better be good and don’t give Jungkook-ssi any trouble, okay?”


“I know, Mommy!”


“Okay, okay,” Jimin mumbles, more to himself. He’s flustered, can’t quite meet Jungkook’s eyes. It’s a damn shame, too, because Jungkook’s wearing earrings today, the silver glinting in the lights.


“I’ll bring her back soon, don’t worry,” Jungkook promises, offering his hand to Sua. She takes it immediately, practically radiating her excitement.


“Thank you for even taking her,” Jimin says, feeling guilty that he rarely had the time to take Sua on adventures like this. “She wouldn’t stop talking about it last night. Didn’t even want to go to bed.”


“Oh, you were that excited huh?” Jungkook teases, eyebrows waggling at Sua. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”


“Come on Mr. Firefighter! Let’s go!”


“Aren’t you gonna say bye to your mommy?”


For a moment Sua looks conflicted before she lets go of Jungkook’s hand and runs over to Jimin to give him a hug. Jimin laughs, squeezing her tight. “Bye Mommy!”


“Be good,” he murmurs, leaning down to give her a kiss. “And have lots of fun.”


“I will!” Sua exclaims and runs right back to Jungkook, hand slipping into his.


“We’ll see you soon, Mommy,” Jungkook grins, winking at Jimin as he and Sua turn toward the exit.


Jimin’s heart stops, blushing furiously all the way to the tips of his ears, mouth hung open. Jungkook’s grinning, attention turning to Sua; she’s tugging on his arm, demanding it, and Jimin hates the way his chest constricts when Jungkook turns to his daughter like she’s the only one in the room.


He’s doomed.


Jimin hears the sirens before the commotion from the street lures him out of the restaurant. Sua’s at school and he’s been doing prep work for the lunch crowd all morning with his parents. They always had their hands full on Tuesday mornings after their day off.


His curiosity turns to shock and panic when he sees the smoke, feet carrying him down the street of their own volition. Jimin’s heart pounds against his chest, realisation dawning on him that it’s the Im’s bakery that’s up in flames, a crowd already forming around it. The windows have shattered from the heat, thick smoke pouring from the gaping holes.


A bright red fire truck pulls up right in front and the whole scene unfurls like some kind of movie. One second people are crowding around the bakery and the next everyone is being herded back, firefighters finding the nearest hydrant to attach their hose. The firefighters are saying something but Jimin’s transfixed on the flames, arms curling around himself in comfort, incapable of looking away from the horrific sight.


The Im’s bakery has been here for as long as Jimin can remember; he’d come here after school every day to buy himself bungeo-ppang, red bean paste dripping down his hand.


“Is anyone inside!”


Jimin’s eyes find Jungkook immediately, his voice ringing out over the sizzle of the fire. He’s in full gear, oxygen tank strapped to his back and a visor flipped over his face. The look of pure concentration on his face sinks into Jimin’s belly, heartbeat picking up. Jungkook’s asking someone standing closer to the bakery, Jimin far enough back that he’s sure Jungkook hasn’t even noticed him. The person replies and Jungkook’s rushing back to the other men. He enters the building with one other man right behind him while two more ready a stretcher, waiting for Jungkook and the other firefighter to return.


Jimin’s frozen to the spot, breath caught in his throat. Another firefighter’s brought a ladder out and set it against the side of the building and Jimin stares at the second floor, knows the Ims were renting the space upstairs to an older lady.


His eyes widen, realising that Mrs. Kwan is likely still in her apartment; she had bad knees and rarely left the place.


Jimin’s mouth has gone dry, everything around them slowing down as the crowd waits with bated breath for Jungkook and the other firefighter to come back. They hear the fire roaring to greater intensity and Jimin watches the firefighters ready their hose, water blasting into the bakery with enough intensity to knock a man off his feet.


The firefighter on the ladder is yelling something into the room, her voice swallowed by the sound of the fire and panic is beginning to grip Jimin’s belly so hard he feels sick. There’s a terrifying crash that comes from the building and the crowd screams. Jimin can hear people shouting, the distress in the air mingling with the suffocating smoke.


Where’s Jungkook?


Just when Jimin’s about to push through the crowd to get closer, Jungkook’s emerging from the door, Mrs. Kwan held tight to his body. Jimin’s whole body sags, tears burning in his eyes, and Jungkook carries Mrs. Kwan to the waiting stretcher. She is rushed off and Jungkook’s yelling something to their captain. 


Jungkook’s uniform is covered in soot and smoke, his visor lifted to reveal his face, sweaty and creased with exertion. Jimin’s heart is beating so fast he can’t even hear the fire’s loud sizzle. It’s a moment of clarity, one he wishes he didn’t have to face.


It isn’t just a crush anymore and Jimin’s fingers dig into his own sweater, a new kind of panic gripping him.


The Im bakery burns and burns but they manage to contain it, not allowing it to spread to any of the other buildings nearby. He watches the flames flicker, and it’s like nothing Jimin’s ever seen before.


He’s not sure when he ends up back at the restaurant, falling into his father’s arms as the whole ordeal catches up to him. 


The bakery’s gone. 


They close the restaurant early that night. All the businesses around them shutter their windows early, too. Watching the bakery burn had been a harrowing ordeal and everyone’s still reeling from it. They’d all gathered in the street that evening, dividing up tasks — someone to prepare a meal for the Ims, someone to babysit the grandkids for the night, someone to house Mrs. Kwan for the foreseeable future. Jimin’s mother had taken charge of collecting a donation pool. Nosy though everyone is, they don’t know what kind of insurance the Ims had. The more help they can give, the better. 


On their way home, Jimin’s dad had suggested they send something over to Jungkook. “He had a long day,” he says. “And we should thank him. He does a hard, brave job to keep people safe.”


Jimin and his mother are in agreement, so they all get to work when they make it home. They use some of the leftover food from dinner for the restaurant that day and make a few fresh dishes, carefully filling containers of food to take over to Jungkook once he returns from work for the night. Sua’s tasked with watching the window and announces his arrival excitedly. 


“He’s home, he’s home!”


They give him a little while to settle in, then Jimin’s mother is sending him out the door. “I’m busy!” she proclaims. She’s sitting at the kitchen table tallying up the donations. “Go, hurry. And fix your hair first. Can’t believe you’re a grown, single omega and you just go out looking however you want.”


“Mom!” Jimin shrieks. He just can’t catch a break.


“I’ll go with you,” his dad says, getting up from the couch. “I want to thank Jungkook my — ”


“You need to help me,” his mom interjects, shooting him a Look. 


“You need help counting money?” His dad looks unimpressed as he wanders into the kitchen to join her. “That’s never been a problem before.”


“Sit down,” she huffs, pulling him into a chair. “Jimin-ah, go already. It’s getting late.”


Jimin rolls his eyes at her transparent machinations and grabs the bag of food. On the way out, he stops by the mirror in the hallway to fix his hair. She's right. It kind of does look like a mess. He pinches his cheeks for a hint of colour, licks his lips, and straightens his shirt. 


Then he groans inwardly. God, what is he doing?


The embarrassment probably colours his cheeks better than the pinching, so he heads out with the food and knocks on Jungkook’s front door. Then he steps back and waits awkwardly, feeling a flutter of nervousness in his belly. 


Jungkook opens the door, looking surprised to see him. He’s already changed into sweats and a t-shirt, his hair ruffled like he’s been running his hand through it, and Jimin breathes in his warm amber scent with a deepening blush. He looks tired, the day clearly wearing on him. Jimin wonders how many days he has had like this one. He knows sometimes firefighters get called to deal with disasters in other parts of the country, too, gone for weeks at a time. Jimin can’t imagine the stress. 


“Hey,” Jimin says softly. “Brought you dinner.”


He holds up the bag of food, and Jungkook’s gaze flickers from it to Jimin. Then he smiles, softening, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Wow, you’re really an angel, aren’t you? I was just thinking about how I was too tired to whip up dinner.”


Jimin flushes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You had a tough day. It’s from my parents, too. We wanted to thank you.”


“You didn’t have to do that.” He shakes his head, but he steps back from the door anyway. “Just doing my job.”


“Still,” Jimin insists, hands sweaty. “I — I was there. Saw it happen. It was pretty scary.”


Jungkook’s gaze flickers over his face, and Jimin feels like he’s put himself at risk for revealing too much. 


“You did a really amazing thing today,” Jimin finally says. “And I’m glad you’re okay.”


Jungkook smiles softly. “Come in for a minute?”


Jimin follows him inside, slipping his shoes off by the door. Jungkook leads him down the hall and to the kitchen, and Jimin spends the time with his back turned to peer curiously around his house. It’s surprisingly homey. Jungkook’s busy, probably isn’t home all that much, but somehow he’s already managed to make the place look lived in. It’s neat and clean, though it’s permeated with his scent. Jimin finds it comforting — it wraps him up in warmth. 


His kitchen is cute and small, the walls covered in yellow floral wallpaper. “You have a really nice place,” Jimin says, setting the food down on the table. He starts to pull the containers out of the bag so that he can insist Jungkook to start eating. He’s probably starving by now. 


“Thanks. My mom’s always coming over and trying to mess with the set-up,” Jungkook complains, the closest Jimin’s heard to him outright whining. “Every time she leaves, I'm rearranging."


Jimin laughs. “Sounds like a mom.”


Jungkook makes a face, pulling plates out of a cabinet — two of them. 


“Oh, I already ate,” Jimin protests. “I ate at the restaurant. I should get out of your hair — ”


Jungkook casts him a glance over his shoulder. “Stay for a bit.”


Jimin swallows, looking down. He thinks about how it had felt to see Jungkook come out of that building — the relief. Against himself, he nods. “Just for a bit.”


Jungkook sets the plates down and Jimin shoos him out of the way, taking over. He fills Jungkook’s plate up until it’s so full Jungkook’s protesting with a laugh. He puts a bit of food in his own plate just to be polite — he really did eat at the restaurant — then takes the seat across from him. 


“Do you ever get scared?” Jimin asks. “On days like this. I mean, you just seemed so steady.”


“Not in the moment. When it’s happening, my brain is just running through all the things I have to do, have to check for, so there isn’t really any room for feeling scared,” he explains, taking a bite of food and sighing in appreciation. “But afterwards, yeah. It always hits when it’s over.”


“What made you decide to be a firefighter?”


“Uh, it’s kind of a silly story,” Jungkook admits, cheeks tinging pink. “But at the time it was really big? Like it really changed my life. Our house caught on fire when I was a kid — my parents had gone over to the neighbors for a bit, and there was a problem with the electricity. I was alone with my little cousin.”


“Oh my god,” Jimin says, eyes wide. So much for a silly story.


“It wasn’t a huge fire or anything, but it was scary. We were upstairs and I could see the fire burning down the stairs. I called 119 but that was about all I managed to do. I just panicked, so I grabbed my cousin and we just sat there. The firefighters came pretty fast and got us out, and it was only one part of the house that had any damage. But I just remember hating how helpless I felt, how I had my little cousin with me and was supposed to take care of him, but didn’t know what to do.”


“You were just a kid,” Jimin assures, brows furrowing together.


“I know but…” Jungkook shrugs, and Jimin gets it. He hated feeling helpless, too. “I decided I wanted to be a firefighter, too, so I could help people. Everyone thought it was just a phase, but it turned out to be my calling. So here I am.”


“That’s not silly,” Jimin huffs. “That's terrifying, first of all. And that’s a pretty good reason for wanting to be a firefighter — wanting to save your cousin. You’re pretty cool, Jungkook-ssi.”


Jungkook laughs it off, looking away with a bashful smile. “Thanks.”


“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Jimin hesitates. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry Sua is always coming around, taking up your free time. And thank you for being so sweet to her. I know she can be a lot to handle, she’s always getting into trouble — ”


Jungkook’s already shaking his head, fond smile spreading across his face. “She’s great, Jimin-ssi. An absolute firecracker.”


Jimin smiles down at his plate, feeling soft. If there’s one thing he loves the most in the world, it’s people praising his daughter. “She is.”


“It’s a better way to spend my free time than anything else I could have been doing. She’s really helpful, too. Planted half my garden. Really I’m just keeping her around for my own benefit.”


Jimin laughs. “You know, I can’t even be mad about it. And she’s only helpful with you. Can’t even get her to pick up her toys.”


“What can I say, me and Sua have something special,” Jungkook grins, and Jimin shakes his head. He’s only teasing, but he’s right.


“She doesn’t have any alphas in her life, not really.” Jimin’s voice has grown quieter, gaze falling to his plate. He hasn’t touched any of the food. “I think she really imprinted on you. So thank you for being so sweet with her.”


“Of course,” Jungkook says gently. “Happy to be there for her.”


He’s just so perfect. Jimin squirms, feeling abruptly emotional and horny and everything all at once. Damn Jeon Jungkook, sitting in front of him like he’s actually attainable. “Speaking of Sua, it’s almost her bedtime.”


Jungkook stands to walk him out. He puts his hand on the small of Jimin’s back as he leads him down the hallway to the door, and Jimin feels the heat of his touch like there isn’t a shirt between their skin. He flushes hard, tugging his shoes on and trying not to look at Jungkook for too long. 


“Thanks again for the food, and tell your parents, too.”


Jimin nods, slipping out the door. “Goodnight, Jungkook-ssi.”


“Goodnight, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook calls, and if Jimin allows himself one last glance at Jungkook standing in the doorway, framed by the warm porch lights, well. 


He’s only human.


It’s a day off, and his mother’s spending it being annoying. 


His dad’s taken Sua to the park so that he and his mother can get some things done at home. She’s been spending most of it giving orders and complaining about his lack of a love life. 


Get the cobwebs off the ceiling, you never brush the cobwebs. 


Sua’s six years old already, how much longer are you going to stay single?


On the bright side, she’s been sharing plenty of gossip, which Jimin always enjoys even if he doesn’t want her to know that. His mom is the queen of gossip, always picking up tidbits when she’s shopping or playing baduk. Jimin likes to pretend he doesn't care, but he always looks forward to hearing her stories. 


“Mr. Min said his son’s getting married next month, you know the one who lives up in the city?” she says, her scent positively buzzing. “And guess who he’s getting married to.”


“Mom, stop gossiping,” Jimin huffs from his perch at the counter, where he’s shelling peas. 


“Another alpha,” she says conspiratorially, as if she hadn’t even heard him. 


“Alphas are allowed to marry alphas, Mom. It’s not weird. You’re just old-fashioned.”


“Weird? Who said it was weird? I didn’t say it was weird!” she insists, far too defensive. “I’m just saying. Always thought he’d end up with a nice omega, that boy.”


“Isn’t Mrs. Yoo’s daughter getting married next month, too?”


“She is, to that girl with the big nose.”


“You’re so mean,” Jimin says, but considers privately that the girl in question really does have kind of a big nose. 


“Speaking of Mrs. Yoo, guess what she was telling me today?”


Jimin sighs. “What was she telling you?”


“The fire department’s putting out a calendar.” Her voice is sly, like she knows a secret he doesn’t.


“Awesome,” Jimin intones, stretching his back out as he takes a moment’s break. When she’d spoken to Mrs. Yoo today is beyond him. He hadn’t seen her leave the house.


“It’s a calendar of all their firefighters,” she goes on, grinning at him over her tea. “It’s one of those sexy calendars.”


“Mom! Oh my god,” Jimin shrieks.


“All the boys are shirtless, that’s what she was saying — ”


“Mom, stop!” Jimin puts his hands over his ears, face burning with mortification. “They could be your sons!”


She waves a hand at him, making a face. “I’m only telling you because I thought you’d be interested, since you’re always staring at the Jeon boy.”


Jimin considers how much easier life would be if he could melt into a puddle whenever he wanted to. “I am not.”


“I’m your mother, Jimin, I know everything about you.” She says it flippantly, like she can’t believe he’s even trying to lie to her. “Oh, I hear the door — must be Taehyung.”


Jimin rises at the sound of a knock. “Tae’s coming?”


“I ran into him at the store and told him to stop by, it’s been too long.”


“He came over two days ago,” Jimin deadpans. His mom and Taehyung are thick as thieves. “And when did you go to the store?”


She ignores him, hand waving toward the front door. “Go, go.”


Taehyung’s sporting a massive grin when Jimin opens the door, which makes him instantly suspicious. Jimin squints at him, and Taehyung shoves right by him to get to the kitchen, greeting his mom with a hug and a kiss. She pulls a chair next to her for him to sit, and he plops in it happily, asking her about her shoulder and offering to make her another cup of tea. Jimin fights the eye roll that’s threatening to come out. Taehyung is such a suck-up. 


“What, no hug for me?” Jimin complains, returning to the counter where his peas are waiting for him. Taehyung hops up immediately, draping himself over him and scenting him thoroughly. Jimin finds himself softening, breathing in his comforting eucalyptus. 


“Even better. I brought you a gift.”


Jimin eyes him, suspicious again. “Oh, yeah?”


Taehyung whips something out of his bag that looks suspiciously like a calendar. 


Jimin’s already groaning. “You didn’t — ”


Taehyung shoves Jimin’s peas aside and sets the calendar on the counter, and sure enough, it’s the firefighter calendar, the cover graced by one of the guys without his shirt on and one of the girls in a crop top. 


“And look who’s the star of your birthday month.” Taehyung waggles his eyebrows before flipping to October to reveal none other than Jeon Jungkook. 


Jimin’s face burns hot instantly. Jungkook’s got his arms bent at the elbows and stretched behind his head, showing off the definition of his pecs and abs, his triceps bulging. He’s grinning, long, wet hair falling into his eyes, neck slightly arched to show off his smooth throat. His entire bare torso’s oiled and glistening, and his pants sit almost obscenely low on his hips, showing off the sharp v of his hipbones. Jimin had only caught a glimpse of his tattoos before, but now he can see them in their full glory: there’s a roaring lion on his pec he hadn’t seen and the koi fish among delicate waves over his ribs. 


Life really would be a lot easier if melting into a puddle was an option. 


“Nice, huh? Huh?” Taehyung goads, nudging him and waggling his eyebrows. “Aren’t you gonna say thank you?”


Jimin snatches the calendar from him and flips it shut. “I hate you,” he says decidedly, and his mom and Taehyung grin at each other, full of glee. 


“What?” Taehyung says innocently. “It’s for charity.”


Jimin’s going to kill him.


“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jimin asks, taking a seat next to Sua at the kitchen table, her cheeks flushed red — whether in anger or shame, Jimin’s not sure. She’s been quiet the whole ride home and hasn’t said a word even after they’ve made it inside.


“You already know,” Sua mutters darkly, refusing to meet Jimin’s gaze.


She knows she’s in trouble and she hates being in trouble. Jimin placed a cup of hot cocoa in front of her a few minutes ago but she hasn’t touched it, staring instead at her hands.


What Jimin knows is that Sua had punched one of the other kids in her class today. She’s always been quite feisty and vocal, but Sua’s never hit anyone before. Jimin’s taught her better. The principal had called him directly on his cell, the lunch rush at the restaurant having only just died down, and told him about the incident at lunch recess. Sua had spent the twenty minutes it took Jimin to get to the school sitting in the principal’s office, her face twisted in misery when he had rushed through the office door.


He’d never smelled such anguish on her, never seen her so upset. She’d run into his arms immediately and cried and apologised, all her words muffled into his shoulder. The principal had just told him that Sua wouldn’t say what happened and the other kid’s parents had already taken him home. Jimin had been assured that everything was okay but that it would be best to take Sua home for the day, too. There would likely be another meeting between just the parents later.


There’s a headache building just behind Jimin’s eyes, his belly twisting into knots. He doesn’t like seeing Sua like this, so distraught.


“Baby, I don’t care what the principal said, okay? I just...I’d like to hear from you what happened.”


He says it as gently as he can, his own cup of tea sitting in front of him untouched.


She doesn’t budge, jaw tightening.


Jimin feels at wit’s end. He doesn’t understand what could possibly have happened that Sua would punch another kid.


“Did he say something to you?” Jimin speaks softly, leaning in a little closer. “Was he mean?”


Sua only seems to curl into herself more.


Jimin sighs, beginning to grow angry at her stubbornness. “Sua, you can’t just hit another person. I know you know that, and if you think you won’t get in trouble because you won’t tell me what happened, you’re wrong. So can you please — ”


“You won’t get it!” Sua snaps at him, her eyes already welling with tears.


Jimin’s taken aback, blinking his confusion away. “Sweetheart, if you tell me — ”


“You’re not even an alpha! What do you know!” Sua screams, scrambling out of her chair. Before Jimin can fully register what she’s said, she’s darting out the back door, sobbing.


For a split second, Jimin’s chest feels so tight he can’t suck in a breath. but his daughter’s just run out of the house and he needs to go after her. He’s just so stunned, feet feeling like lead as he gives chase. Jimin thinks he’s trying to hold back his own tears, Sua’s words like a punch to the gut.


“Sua!” Jimin calls, but she’s already run out of the backyard. He can hear her crying, loud and errant, and Jimin’s heart breaks all over again. “Baby, Mommy’s sorry! Please stop running!”


Jimin chases after her, slipping through the gate that exits out of their backyard but Jungkook’s already there, Sua clutching his t-shirt and clinging to him, sobbing. It feels like a stab to the heart, like he is every bit the inadequate mother his mind always tells him he is.


Jungkook’s attention is fixed on Sua, his back turned to Jimin, hand rubbing up and down Sua’s back to soothe her. Jimin can hear him murmuring, “Shh, it’s okay, sunshine. You’re alright.”


Sua’s crying quiets down and Jungkook finally spots Jimin, frozen to the spot. He knows he should go over, should take Sua back and bring her inside. She’s had a bad day. But he can’t move, can’t quell down the feeling of worthlessness long enough to take action.


Jungkook offers him a smile, a little strained, like he suspects Jimin’s a bad mother, too.


He carries Sua toward his backyard, her head tucked into his neck, back heaving. Jimin’s heart won’t stop breaking and he follows after them, pausing under the shade of Jungkook’s house. Jungkook walks all the way over to a patch of flowers Jimin knows Sua’s helped him plant and sits down, Sua in his lap.


He can’t hear a word Jungkook says to her but she leans back, rubbing at her eyes. Her head’s bowed, shoulder’s drooping. She’s upset, ashamed.


Jimin knows that Sua likes to get into light-hearted trouble, she’s mischievous, but she hates genuinely making things difficult for him. She wants to be independent, to run into the world headfirst, and Jimin wishes it was all that easy, that he could give her that kind of world.


They whisper to each other for a little bit longer before Jungkook’s voice makes it across the yard to Jimin.


“Did you wanna help me plant some more flowers, Sua?” he asks, wiping her face of tears and snot.


Sua shakes her head, instead leaning forward and resting her head on his chest. Jungkook sends Jimin a quick look, and he almost takes a step forward but Sua’s mumbling something.


“I made Mommy sad,” she says and Jimin wants to deny it immediately but he holds back, doesn’t want to send her right back to tears.


“Mommy’s not sad,” Jungkook assures, rubbing her back again. He rests his own head on top of hers. “I think he’s probably wondering what’s made you so upset. Did you guys have a fight?”


Sua shakes her head.


“Did — did something happen at school? You’re home early.”


Jimin’s hands curl into fists, arms crossing over his chest.


“He said Mommy was a bad person,” Sua answers, her arms curled to her chest, body resting against Jungkook. Jimin can see the way Jungkook goes rigid. “He called Mommy names.”


“Who did, Sua?” Jungkook coaxes.


“Sungwoon.” Sua leans away from Jungkook, looking up at him. “He said I was w-weird ‘cause I don’t have an Alpha. And he — he said if Mommy was good, I would have an Alpha but — but that’s not M-mommy’s fault.”


Her voice wobbles again and Jungkook’s cupping her little face in his hands, his scent strong enough that Jimin can even make it out ten feet away. Jimin’s heart is squeezing in his chest, eyes burning and he has to will himself not to cry.


“I used my alpha voice,” Sua sniffles, rubbing at her eyes aggressively, her body curled in on itself. “But he wouldn’t stop and I didn’t even know I did it! And I was so mad, I punched him. He’s the one who’s bad! And mean.”


Jimin sucks in a breath; it clicks, why Sua had said You’re not even an alpha! He’d always told her to never use an alpha command on someone but she’d been angry enough that it had slipped out.


Jungkook’s eyes flicker to Jimin, uncertain for only a moment. “You did good.”


“Really?” Sua’s voice is filled with disbelief, like she expected Jungkook to admonish her. Jimin’s not sure if he’s upset he isn’t scolding her or giddy that he’s comforting her so well.


“Yeah,” he assures. “You were protecting your mommy, right? That’s what alphas do. But you’re still so small so it makes your mommy scared. And well, when you’re an alpha, you have to be really careful about using your alpha voice.”


“It’s bad, I know,” Sua mumbles, admonished. “Mommy said it makes the other person feel really bad.”


“It does,” Jungkook agrees, smoothing her hair back again. “It’s your responsibility as an alpha to always be careful about how you use it. Even when kids are being mean. It can be really scary.”


“Okay,” Sua says, nodding. “I’m sorry.”


“Did you say sorry to Sungwoon?” 


Sua nods but she doesn’t seem happy about it.


“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, giving her a big smile. “But next time, you have to tell your mommy when kids are saying mean things to you.”


“But what if Mommy feels bad?”


“Your mommy’s a big boy,” Jungkook smiles. “You think he can’t handle it?”


Sua purses her lips. “I don’t like it when Mommy is sad.”


“How about you come tell me when the kids are being mean? And then Mommy won’t have to feel bad.”


“Really?” Sua sounds surprised and Jimin can see it in the way her eyes widen, how taken she is with Jungkook.


“Really!” Jungkook smiles, squeezing her in a tight hug. “Besides, I’m so much cooler than your mommy, aren’t I?”

“No you’re not!” Sua immediately defends, pushing away from Jungkook. “My Mommy’s the best!”


“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook agrees, grinning at her. “You always know best.”


Sua perks up at that, a watery laugh escaping her. “I’m really smart,” she says, a little smug. 


“The smartest!” Jungkook grins, voice rising an octave. Jimin’s taken a step forward, and Jungkook notices it, giving Jimin a smile. He’s itching to have his daughter in his arms, angry and upset that she has to worry about his feelings at all. 


“Your mommy’s worried about you,” he adds, pointing over at Jimin. “See?”


Sua turns to look, the smile disappearing once she spots Jimin, face crumpling. She bounds out of Jungkook’s lap straight to him and Jimin bends just in time to scoop her right up, holding her tight to his chest. Her scent’s all twisted, the milkiness of it soured and spoiled.


“I’m sorry,” Jimin hears himself say, wishing he knew how to make her feel better. “I’m sorry.”


“I was bad,” Sua mumbles, almost too soft for Jimin to catch it. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”


“It’s okay,” Jimin assures immediately, brushing back his own tears. “Did you — Did you tell Jungkook-ssi what happened?”


Sua nods, her face buried in Jimin’s neck. He scents her, maybe a little too aggressively, Jungkook’s amber lingering over her clothes.




Jungkook’s gotten up and walked over, hovering at the periphery, and Jimin offers him the best smile he can muster but he knows it must be pretty pathetic. He just can’t handle the idea of Sua being upset that she only has him, an omega parent.


Every terrible scenario he can think of runs through his head, all the mean, horrible things kids could have said to her screaming at him at once. He knows what kids are like, how they’d treated kids with only one parent when he’d still been young. Jimin imagines it hasn’t improved much. It is always so difficult to be different.


“I’m tired Mommy.”


“Yeah?” Jimin brushes some of her hair out of her face. “How about we take a nap? Are you hungry? Did you want to eat?”


Sua shakes her head, still glued to Jimin, her tiny arms curled right around his neck.


“Okay,” he says softly, rubbing her back.


“Come on,” Jungkook smiles, gently turning Jimin around. His hand never leaves the small of Jimin’s back as he walks them back and Sua finally looks up, her eyes already drooping.


“I love you, Uncle Jungkook,” she mumbles, and Jimin’s eyes widen. He takes in the look of shock on Jungkook’s face but Jungkook recovers quickly, giving Sua his biggest smile, all bunny teeth and sparkling eyes.


“I love you, too, sunshine.”


Sua’s already asleep by the time Jimin steps back into the house with her, his arms beginning to strain. He doesn’t know how Jungkook knows but he takes her without a word, carrying her to the living room. Jimin watches him lay her down, the Pororo blanket his mother had bought her for her birthday last year draped over her.


For a moment, he just hovers there, not wanting to leave but he does, smiling at Jimin when he turns to him. It’s then that Jimin takes in the state of him: he’s barefoot, hair a mess, eyes still sleepy.


Jimin opens his mouth to apologise but Jungkook brings up a finger to his lips and ushers Jimin into the kitchen. It’s strange to be herded around in his own home but Jimin’s thankful for the direction. He’s exhausted. 


“Thank you,” he finally says, both of them stepping into the kitchen.


Jungkook smiles, soft and sweet, and Jimin wishes his heart didn’t swell at the mere sight of it. He doesn’t anticipate it, couldn’t have, but Jungkook pulls him into a hug and Jimin sinks into him, so surprised he doesn’t know how to decline, to push back.


Worse yet, Jimin can feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and when Jungkook’s hand cards through the back of his hair, cradling his head, Jimin breaks. He cries so hard he shakes, every sob muffled into Jungkook’s chest with a desperation that leaves him ashamed. His hands curl into Jungkook’s t-shirt the same way his daughter’s had and he clutches so hard he thinks he can feel the dig of his nails through two layers of fabric.


Jungkook just holds him, doesn’t say anything, and Jimin’s tears have soaked through his t-shirt. He can still smell Sua’s scent on Jungkook; it’s indistinct, milky the way all pups smell until they go through puberty, and yet Jimin could recognise it anywhere. It blends with Jungkook’s amber seamlessly.


Jimin’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t realise Jungkook’s nose is dragging over his shoulder into the curve of his neck until he’s letting out a particularly loud sob, the sound stuttering out of him. Jungkook’s touch is so gentle, nuzzling into Jimin’s neck and finally dragging over his scent gland. Jimin stumbles to a stop, breathing irregular as he tries to steady himself.


Amber seems to warm him up from the inside out, Jungkook’s scent sinking into Jimin and enveloping him as he’s scented. Jimin hasn’t been scented by anyone but his family or friends in nearly seven years. It leaves him nearly trembling, heartbeat picking up speed until Jimin feels almost dizzy with it.


He can’t believe a scent that didn’t belong to his parents could be so comforting.


Jungkook pulls back, fingers brushing over the curve of Jimin’s neck and Jimin very reluctantly leans back, cheeks flushed. He feels awful for the giant wet patch on Jungkook’s t-shirt but when he opens his mouth to apologise, Jungkook beats him to it.


“I’m very good at laundry,” he grins, already wiping away Jimin’s tears. “So please don’t worry about it.”


“But — ”


“It’s okay,” Jungkook says firmly, leaving no room for argument. He even shuffles Jimin into the chair Sua had been sitting in at the kitchen table and then grabs the two mugs left untouched. “How about I make you a new cup, hmm?”


“You don’t — ”


Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I saw where you got the tea last time. And I sure hope I know how to boil some water.”


Jimin can’t help but smile at that, giving in far too easily. He really shouldn’t be letting Jungkook make him tea in his own kitchen but he’s exhausted. Suddenly, the thought of curling up next to Sua and taking a nap sounds terribly appealing. His daughter had the right idea.


Jimin watches Jungkook standing by his stove, water boiling, hip cocked against the counter. He wonders how someone can look so effortlessly gorgeous, that despite Jungkook’s obvious bedhead, he still looks so soft and handsome. And maybe his t-shirt sticks a little too closely to his toned body, his sweats hanging a little too low on his hips. 


Jimin swallows, looking down at his hands.


He watches Jungkook’s feet, knows when Jungkook grabs the tea from his cupboard and when he reaches the table, sinking down into the chair Jimin had occupied only moments earlier. 


Jimin wraps his hands around the mug gratefully, warmth seeping into his skin. “You really remembered where it was.”


“Yeah, I was worried for a moment,” Jungkook grins, his own cup in his hands. “I’d been pretty distracted last time.”


Jimin’s cheeks colour, a hand swatting out at Jungkook. “Stop!”


Jungkook just smirks, taking a sip from his cup.


“You were really great with her,” Jimin says, wanting to thank Jungkook for everything. He’d felt so overwhelmed even if he feels guilty now. He should have been able to handle it.


“I’m glad I could help but I know you would have been fine.”


“I don’t know about that,” Jimin laughs, the sound bitter even to his own ears. “Sometimes I just...I don’t know what I’m doing. And she never mentioned anyone was saying such awful shit to her. If she can’t tell me, I’m obviously failing her.”


“That’s bullshit,” Jungkook says, tone brokering no room for argument. His mouth’s set in a firm line, his mug of tea forgotten. Jimin holds onto his a little tighter. “Kids don’t tell their parents when someone’s being shitty to them. Half the time they don’t know how.”


“It’s…” Jimin trails, unable to say the words. Admitting it makes him feel humiliated.


“It’s hard.” Jungkook says. “It’s okay to feel that way.”


“But I’m her mom. I can’t — If she can’t count on me, who does she have?”


“Who says she can’t count on you?” Jungkook replies, his expression hardening. “Kids hear this sort of shit from their parents, Jimin-ssi. They don’t think it up on their own and if someone thinks you’re not a good parent because you don’t have a mate, they’re a fucking idiot. Sua’s sweet and kind and she has so much confidence. Do you think she would if she didn’t have the world’s best mom?”


Jimin’s eyes widen with every word Jungkook says, breath caught in his chest. He thinks he might cry again.


“Don’t be so eager to put yourself down.” 


Jimin doesn’t know how to say thank you, teeth digging into the inside of his cheek to keep himself from bursting into tears again. It’s such a strange thing. Jimin’s never quite cried like this before, always pushing everything down. And the second someone saw him, really saw him, he’d crumpled.


It terrifies him.


They sit in silence, Jimin finally gulping down his tea, eager for any kind of distraction. Jungkook must understand, a sigh escaping him. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes. Jimin feels bad for even having him here.


He opens his mouth to suggest Jungkook go get some more sleep but Jungkook’s hands hover above Jimin’s on the table, his tea cup empty next to them, before he decides to just take them. He squeezes them tight, giving Jimin a warm smile.


“If — If you don’t mind my asking,” Jungkook starts, deliberately slow, his eyes fixed on their clasped hands. “What happened with Sua’s father?”


Jimin’s whole body stiffens and then he sucks in a breath, letting it go.


It would have come up eventually and it’s not like Jungkook wouldn’t have heard something from one of his friends or someone in town. Gossip, especially about someone like Jimin, travelled fast.


Jimin bites on his lip.


“I’ll answer if you answer one of my questions.”


Jungkook looks surprised but he nods, smiling, amused. “That seems fair.”


“I was 19,” Jimin hears himself say, relishing the warmth of Jungkook’s hands. “And stupid. I just — I wanted to, I don’t know. Live life or whatever. We were just fooling around, you know? It’s, uh,” he can feel the way his cheeks heat up, “hard when you’re an omega. To go through a heat alone.”


“You didn’t — not that it’s your fault or that you did anything wrong,” Jungkook says, rambling. He sits up, scent spiking, and Jimin bites back his smile. “Uh, you weren’t on suppressants?”


Jimin knows he meant to ask about birth control. His own parents had even asked about that, and Jimin had been red-faced and humiliated as he’d told them he hadn’t thought he could get pregnant. The hubris of a 19 year old.


“I didn’t want to take suppressants,” Jimin answers. “There are all these side effects and I was already a moody teenager. My parents worried I could end up depressed or something.”


Jungkook nods so he continues.


“I told him right after I found out. But like I said, we weren’t anything serious and he was 19, too. The last thing he wanted was to be a dad. He told me to get rid of the baby, right to my face,” Jimin says, recalling the memory like it was yesterday. He’d burst into tears, furious and upset and ready to punch Minho right in the face.


Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his scent tinged with his barely contained anger and Jimin smiles, maybe a little pleased and a lot touched. “So he was just a piece of shit.”


Jimin bursts into laughter, hands flying to his mouth to contain the sound. He nearly topples right out of his chair, giddy. 


“What’s so funny?” Jungkook grumbles, cheeks flushing despite his best effort to hold his glare.


“It’s just,” Jimin breathes through his laughter, “that’s pretty much exactly what my Dad said.”


“Your dad’s a smart man,” Jungkook says matter-of-factly, squeezing Jimin’s hand. “I’m glad your parents… you know.”


“Didn’t throw me out? Yeah me, too,” Jimin laughs, propping his chin up on a hand. Jungkook cradles Jimin’s other hand in both of his.


“I mean, yes, but also,” Jungkook shrugs. “I saw you guys around town, you know. And they seem really supportive. I’m glad you had them, at least.”


“They’re pretty great,” Jimin murmurs in agreement, his mind unable to move on from Jungkook telling him he saw them around town. He clears his throat, catching Jungkook’s attention. Their eyes meet and it’s like something electric runs right through him, Jimin shivering in his seat. “You have to answer my question now.”


“That was the agreement, yeah.”


“Why’d you and Seohyun break up?” he blurts it out as quickly as possible, sure that if he lingered for even a moment, he’d lose the courage.


Jungkook snorts, shoulders bouncing from the force of it but he’s smiling. “I knew that was coming.”


“You’re lucky my mom’s not here right now,” Jimin says, scooting his chair closer. Their knees are almost brushing; Jimin’s heartbeat picks up. “She loves gossip.”


“This is pretty juicy, huh?”


“The juiciest.”


“Are you sure it’s not just your mom who’s the gossip?” Jungkook teases, far braver than Jimin. He hooks one of Jimin’s ankles between his own and Jimin’s heart skips a beat. They’re all tangled up in each other and Jimin’s grateful it’s just the two of them. His parents were stuck at the restaurant.


“I can’t help genetics,” Jimin simpers, sitting up a little straighter.


Jungkook laughs, the sound warming Jimin from the inside out. He’s staring at their hands again, thumbs rubbing soft circles into Jimin’s skin.


“She didn’t want kids,” Jungkook answers. 


His words sit in the air between them for so long Jimin’s afraid to make a sound. He doesn’t want to pry despite his teasing and Jungkook doesn’t look upset, his mouth pursed into a cute little pout.


“I asked her if she would ever change her mind and she said maybe,” he continues, legs tightening around Jimin’s ankle. “I thought I’d be okay with a maybe but we’d been together for three years and I didn’t want to wait another three to know if she’d change her mind.”


“You wanted kids that bad?” Jimin asks softly, wanting to card his hand through Jungkook’s wavy locks but he sits still, waits for Jungkook.


He looks up finally, smile tight-lipped. “More than anything.”


“Three more years wouldn’t have been that long, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, unsure why he’s even saying it. They’d been together for such a long time; Jimin still gets scared of even entertaining any kind of big commitment. His world revolved around Sua.


“I guess but,” he shrugs, a hand coming up to rub at his face. “I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to be with someone who was on the same page as me. I wanted a family.”


Jimin’s heart is frozen in his chest, lungs burning. He reminds himself to breathe. “You’ll — You’ll find someone.”


Jungkook’s serious expression melts instantly, the corners of his lips rising, gaze fixing Jimin to the spot. “You think so, hyung?”


It’s the first time he’s called Jimin that.


“I never said you could call me hyung!”


“I’m so sorry, Jimin-ssi,” he says, drawing out the ‘ssi’ until it sounds absurd and annoying.


Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling together in delight. He swats at Jungkook, tongue sticking out at him. “Yah, don’t be a brat.”


“Can’t help it,” Jungkook sighs, putting on airs. “I was born this way.”


Jimin rolls his eyes, trying to stifle his giggles but it’s difficult to deny Jungkook anything, least of all his smiles. He wins them right out of Jimin’s heart.


“I’m sorry she woke you,” Jimin says, allowing himself the joy of reaching forward and smoothing back Jungkook’s hair. It’s a very mom thing to do, he knows, but somehow it feels far, far riskier than that. “How’d you even hear?”


“I had my bedroom window cracked open,” Jungkook answers, his expression strained, eyes fixed on Jimin intently. “I heard her crying and came running. I wasn’t sure what was happening but I knew it was Sua.”


“Mmm,” Jimin hums, his hand dropping from Jungkook’s hair. Somehow he finds Jungkook’s hand and their fingers curl into each other despite the awkward angle. “You just heard a baby crying and came to the rescue, huh?”


“Well, I am a firefighter,” Jungkook grins, leaning in. His scent swarms around Jimin, leaving him light-headed. “And an alpha.”


“I had no idea,” Jimin murmurs, eyes slipping shut as he breathes Jungkook in.


As all good things in Jimin’s life, this too comes to an end.


The kitchen phone rings, shrill sound breaking through the quiet comfort built between the two of them. Jimin jumps, eyes shooting open; his body remembers to move on his own, breaking away from Jungkook. He misses Jungkook’s warmth instantly.


He grabs the phone on the fourth ring, bringing it to his ear, “Hello?”


“Jimin-ah,” his father’s voice answers. “Is everything okay?”


“Why haven’t you called yet!” His mother’s loud voice carries from wherever she’s standing behind her father and Jimin knows his dad must have wrestled the phone from her to keep her from yelling at Jimin directly.


“Everything’s fine,” Jimin assures, smiling into the phone’s receiver. He turns back to Jungkook, finds him watching Jimin with a sweet smile, entirely too indulgent. “Sua’s taking a nap.”


“What happened? Why did the school call?” his father asks, ignoring whatever his wife’s yelling behind him.


“She got into a fight but I’ll explain it all when you get back tonight. Don’t worry, I already spoke to her.”


“It’s not me you have to convince,” his father chuckles. “Jimin? Hello?”


“You had better give me the ph — ”


“Hello? Oh, the phone’s disconnected, honey.”


“Thank you Dad,” Jimin laughs, the line disconnecting. He almost anticipates his mother to call back immediately but nothing happens.


“Everything okay?” Jungkook’s got an eyebrow raised, leaving his seat to walk over to Jimin.


“Just my parents,” Jimin murmurs, the phone clutched to his chest. He leans back into the edge of the counter, nearly sighing at just the sight of Jungkook. His biceps strain against the fabric of his t-shirt and Jimin’s mind traitorously reminds him of all the tattoos he can’t see, Mr. October floating before his eyes. “They wanted to know what happened.”


Jungkook hums, coming to a stop just before Jimin. Jimin doesn’t think he’d mind if Jungkook were to lean all the way in and put his hands on Jimin’s hips, if Jungkook were to kiss him.


He doesn’t, always so careful about boundaries.


“I’ll get out of your hair,” Jungkook says.


“You can stay,” Jimin hurries to say, feels his face flush at his own eagerness.


“I could,” Jungkook agrees, nodding. “But I worked pretty late last night and I’m working again in a few hours.”


“Why didn’t you say that earlier!” Jimin exclaims, a rush of guilt slamming into him. “Can’t believe you just wasted your time — ”


“Hey,” Jungkook cuts in sharply, brows furrowed together and lips pursing. “You and Sua aren’t a waste of my time. Don’t you dare say that.”


“I just meant — ”


“Be nice to yourself.”


Jimin can’t help it, the words slipping out of his mouth. “Yes, Alpha.”


Jungkook’s scent spikes, hands curling into fists. “I’m being serious.”


“I am, too,” Jimin insists, grinning. The phone’s still clutched to his chest, his heartbeat thrumming so loudly he’s sure Jungkook can hear it. “Go home, get some rest. I’ll pack you some dinner, okay?”


“Hyung, you don’t have to do that,” Jungkook mumbles but Jimin can tell he loves the idea. His smile only grows.


“But I want to. You’re so good with Sua and it’s just,” Jimin doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. He shrugs. “It’s a thank you. For everything.”


“Okay,” Jungkook murmurs. “Everyone’s gonna be jealous.”


Jimin laughs, finally putting the phone back in it’s dock. “Good! They should be. I don’t pack a dinner for just anyone.”


Jungkook edges toward the back door, lingering like he doesn’t want to leave. Truth be told, Jimin doesn’t want him to either. He trails after him, the two of them caught in each other’s orbits.


“I start at 7,” Jungkook says, and Jimin nods.


“I’ll come by at 6,” Jimin says, hand curling around Jungkook’s forearm. Jungkook stills and Jimin musters up all his courage, leaning right in and giving Jungkook a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much.”


Jungkook’s cheeks are tinged red, giving Jimin a jerky nod. Jimin pushes him out the door, positive that his own face didn’t look any better. Once he’s sure Jungkook’s out of reach, Jimin lets out a scream, muffled by his own hands, practically jumping on the spot; happiness rushes through him so quickly it feels like he’s been lifted right off his feet.


“What a fucking day!”


It’s a Monday off from the restaurant, and Jimin’s parents have gone to their friends’ for some potluck. They’d warned him it would be an all day thing, so he’d decided to invite Taehyung over for breakfast. Busy as they both are, they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like. Taehyung works odd hours as a nurse, and Jimin has Sua and the restaurant. But they make time whenever they can. 


Jimin has three batches of cookies to make for Sua’s school tomorrow so he’s set Taehyung up with some hot cocoa and snacks to keep him entertained. He’s just as easy to occupy as Sua is. 


“Where’s Mr. October?” Taehyung asks, squinting around the kitchen for the calendar. 


“It’s not even October,” Jimin huffs, sliding another tray of cookies into the oven. He hadn’t hung the calendar up, of course. It’s shoved in the back of his wardrobe, where his mother won’t find it. As soon as she gets her hands on it, he knows it’ll be smack dab in the middle of the kitchen, stuck on October for the rest of the year. 


“If you threw it away, you’re a demon. I paid money for that.”


“Yeah, money to charity. Are you saying you wouldn’t have donated that money to charity if it weren’t for the calendar?”


Taehyung narrows his eyes at him across the kitchen, and Jimin smiles sweetly back. “Fine. Where’s the real Mr. October, then?”


“He’s home today, I saw him in the garden.”


“Love how he’s always home when you’re home.”


“He isn’t! He just has weird hours like you.”


“Uh-huh. Come take a break, you’re making me tired.”


Jimin shakes his head at him but can’t keep the fondness out of it. Jimin’s always been the on-the-go type. Taehyung reminds him to slow down. He sets the timer for the oven and joins Taehyung at the table, pouring himself a glass of water. “He was so good with Sua Friday, Taehyung, you have no idea.”


Taehyung munches noisily on his wafers. “I know, you’ve only mentioned it a hundred times.”


“I know,” Jimin groans, because he can’t stop thinking about it, either. He thinks he’s driving himself a little crazy remembering Jungkook’s arms around his daughter and the steady way he had comforted her. 


“So, are we finally past the denial stage? You got a crush on him or what?”


Jimin swipes his finger through the ring of condensation from his glass, sighing. He thinks about how it had felt to see Jungkook coming out of the burning bakery, how it had felt when Jungkook held him as he cried, and even after when they’d just talked. 


It’s not just that Jungkook’s good with Sua but that he’s so terribly good with him as well. Jimin’s forgotten what it’s like to be taken care of without feeling immeasurably guilty.


“More than a crush,” Jimin says despondently, and instead of whooping with glee like he expects, Taehyung softens. 


“Yeah?” he asks gently. 




“Well, he’s a good guy, Jiminie. A good alpha. He’s clearly smitten with Sua,” Taehyung says, leaning in a little closer. “And you . Everything lines up, right?”


“He said he broke up with Seohyun because she didn’t want kids.” Jimin says it quietly, even though there’s no one home but them. Taehyung’s eyes widen. 


“Are you serious?” Taehyung exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face. “That’s good, isn’t it? He wants kids, you have a kid.”


“Yeah, I’m just — ” He doesn't know how to put it into words. Everything with Jungkook had gone so well the other day. But still Jimin feels afraid, hesitant. There’s so much on the line, and part of him still feels like he isn’t good enough for an alpha like Jungkook. “Just because he wants kids doesn’t mean he wants someone else’s.”


Taehyung’s face melts. He reaches across the table and takes Jimin’s hands in his own, and they’re a warm comfort. Jimin swallows harshly and wonders when the tears sprung to his eyes, wonders when he got so emotional about all this. He hadn’t meant to but he’s in so deep already. “Baby, he loves Sua. And she loves him too. Never heard her prattle on about anyone as much as him. I’m a little jealous, honestly.”


Jimin lets out a watery laugh, and Taehyung gives his hands a squeeze. “Me, too.”


“From everything you’ve been telling me, you have to be dense to not see that he likes you, too. He wouldn’t be trying this hard if he didn’t want you both.”


He’s right — he has to be. But Jimin’s having a hard time believing it, anyway. Sometimes it’s hard to accept that good things can happen — that they’re real, that they won’t be snatched away in the blink of an eye. “I don’t know, is it — is it right of me? To bring someone into Sua’s life? She’s six years old, and I know she loves him, but what if she’s unhappy with having a new person in our lives? What if it upsets her or she feels unloved or — or — ”


“Park Jimin,” Taehyung interrupts, squeezing his hands tight and staring him dead in the eyes until Jimin shuts up. “Stop spiraling. You’re only gonna solve all these problems if you talk to her. She’s not a baby. She’s six years old. You can ask her how she feels.”


“I know, I know,” Jimin sighs. He lets go of one of Taehyung’s hands so he can wipe his eyes. “You’re right.”


“As usual,” Taehyung says smugly, but then he grows serious again. “Sua is a smart kid. It’s about time you had a talk with her about this sort of thing. She’s gonna figure it out eventually, if she hasn’t already.”


“That’s true,” Jimin murmurs. Six-year-olds these days seem to know a lot more than he did when he was a kid.


“She really does love him. I think you’re worried about nothing. And I think Jungkook can make you and Sua very, very happy.”


“Thank you, Taehyungie,” Jimin sniffs, feeling emotional all over again. “I love you.”


Taehyung sets his snacks aside so he can round the table and kiss the top of Jimin’s head with a loud smack. “I love you, too. So he’s home right now, you said?”


“I saw him, yeah. Why?”


Taehyung pops his head out of the window over the sink. “Oh, yeah. There he is.”


“Okay, stop being obvious,” Jimin huffs.


Taehyung tears off a piece of a paper towel and opens the oven, peeking at Jimin’s cookies. “These look delicious. When are they gonna be ready?”


“There’s a timer for a reason — ”


Jimin doesn’t have the chance to finish his sentence, because Taehyung tosses the paper towel in the oven and shuts the door with a slam. 


Jimin’s mouth drops open. “Taehyung, what the hell are you doing!”


He gets up, tries to run for the oven, but Taehyung’s in his way, holding him back. 


“No way, Jiminie, you are not touching that paper towel — ”


“Are you crazy?! You’re gonna start a fire you absolute idiot — ”


He freezes, and Taehyung freezes, still holding both of Jimin’s arms behind his back. He’s going to start a fire. He’s going to start a fire


“Oh my god, you are crazy!” Jimin shrieks, kicking him in the shin. Taehyung stumbles, whining in pain, but he shoves Jimin back toward the counter before he can make it to the oven. Jimin wrestles with him, but Taehyung’s bigger even if he’s built like a twig, and he’s holding Jimin back with the breadth of his shoulders alone. 


Then, naturally, the paper towel in the oven bursts into flames. 


Jimin shrieks, and Taehyung lets go of him immediately. He’s positively radiating glee. Before Jimin can grab him, he’s bolting in the direction of the door, screaming at the top of his lungs.


“Fire! Fire! Fire!”


Jimin’s going to kill him. He’s going to rip all his limbs out and roast them in the fireplace like marshmallows. He’s going to kick his ass all the way across town, drag him back home, and do it again. But right now there’s a fire in his oven, and his cookies are turning black, and Jimin can see smoke already leaking out of the corners of the oven. He opens the oven door, coughing as a plume of smoke wafts into the air, eyes stinging. With the tongs he was using for the cookies, he retrieves the burning paper towel and dumps it in the sink, turning on the water. 


By then Jungkook’s already bursting into the kitchen, holding a fire extinguisher and calling his name. 


“Hyung, walk toward me — ”


“It’s fine!” Jimin cries, mortification flooding through him until he’s blushing from head-to-toe. “It was just a paper towel, I got it, it’s fine.”


He coughs, fanning smoke out of his face as Jungkook visibly relaxes. Jungkook sets the fire extinguisher down, his expression turning a little sly, and then he’s closing the distance between them. His gaze is full of intent, and Jimin’s eyes widen. 


“Careful. Can’t have you choking on all that smoke, Jimin-ssi.”


“W-what — ”


Jungkook scoops Jimin right up into his arms like he weighs about the same as a sack of flour. Jimin shrieks in surprise, clutching at Jungkook's sturdy chest as he loses the ground beneath his feet. Jungkook’s warm amber scent overwhelms him, and Jimin gulps it in like a drowning man. 


“Really, Jungkook-ssi, I’m — I’m perfectly fine — ” he stutters, mind going a little hazy. 


But Jungkook’s still got that sly grin on his face and he carries Jimin out of the kitchen like it’s nothing. “Smoke can make you dizzy. You might fall and hit your head. We can’t have that now can we?”


Jungkook’s impossibly warm and firm, and he carries Jimin out into the yard as easily as he always carries Sua. Jimin’s blushing hard and it’s Jungkook that’s making him dizzy, not the smoke — he’s the real health hazard here. Jimin’s acutely aware of all the places where they touch, of Jungkook's arm under his knees and the one behind his back, his touch burning into Jimin. 


Jungkook finally sets him down in the yard, and Jimin stumbles, clutching at his strong arms for support. Taehyung, predictably, has vanished. “There you go,” he says. “All safe.”


“My hero,” Jimin teases, batting his lashes. Jungkook hasn’t let him go yet. Jimin can feel his hands on his waist burning through his shirt, and they’re so close their chests are brushing, toes touching. Jimin doesn’t let go of his arms. 


“You’re feeling okay?” Jungkook checks, briefly turning serious, and Jimin nods with a fond smile. 


“I’m fine,” he insists. “It was just a paper towel in the oven.”


“Good. Where am I gonna get the best maeuntang in town if something happens to you, huh?”


Jimin preens at the compliment but fakes offense, pouting up at him and swatting his chest. His rock solid chest. “Oh, I see how it is. You only like me for my food.”


Jungkook’s arms wind around his waist, tugging him right against his chest, and Jimin can’t help the gasp of surprise. He can feel Jungkook’s body flush against his, and the intensity with which Jungkook’s looking down at him fills him with heat. Jungkook runs his fingers lightly down Jimin’s cheek, and goosebumps erupt over Jimin’s skin, a shudder running up his spine. 


“If I told you all the things I liked about you, we’d be here all day.”


His voice is low, a murmur, and Jimin feels like drowning in it. It’s been a long time since Jimin flirted with anyone as much as he flirts with Jungkook. He drags his hand down Jungkook’s chest, curling his fingers into a loose fist and peers up at him through his lashes. “I wouldn’t mind hearing that.”


“Of course you wouldn’t,” Jungkook says, something arrogant in his tone. His fingers slide down Jimin’s face, tilting his head up so that they’re gazing fully at each other. Jimin shivers, heart stuttering in his chest. 


“Jungkook-ssi, you can let me go now.” Even as he says it, his hand curls tighter in Jungkook’s shirt, holding him there. “The neighbors are probably watching.”


“Let them,” Jungkook says, and then he pulls Jimin in for a kiss. 


Jimin’s toes curl, electricity buzzing all the way to the tips of his fingers when their lips meet. Jungkook’s mouth is warm, just like the rest of him, and when he nips at Jimin’s mouth, Jimin parts his lips, gasping when their tongues brush. He winds his arms around Jungkook’s neck and slips his fingers up through his soft hair, tugging lightly. Jungkook’s hold on him tightens, like he can’t get Jimin close enough but they’re already flush against each other. Jimin can feel Jungkook’s heart thudding against his body, feel the way he draws in a breath between kisses. 


If Jimin’s being honest, he’s wanted to kiss Jungkook for an impossibly long time, but even then, nothing he ever imagined could compare to this.


Jungkook kisses him like he’s trying to drive him out of his mind — all playful nips and teasing grazes until he sucks on Jimin’s tongue and has him moaning into his mouth. Then he teases again, flicking Jimin’s lips with his tongue, dipping inside briefly only to pull back despite Jimin’s whine of complaint. The next time he kisses him his tongue grazes the roof of Jimin’s mouth and Jimin melts, clutching at him pitifully, his legs weak, but Jungkook’s arms hold him steady. 


“J-Jungkook,” he manages, but Jungkook’s done teasing, kissing him with a fervor that has Jimin struggling to keep up. He can feel Jungkook’s hand sliding up his shirt and the other in his hair, tugging until he sees stars. “Jungkook,” he tries again, and Jungkook seems to pull himself away with effort, his lips dragging against Jimin’s jaw, hand grazing his scent gland. 


He presses their foreheads together, breathing him in, and they’re both panting, their scents heady in the air. Jimin laughs weakly, and Jungkook’s looking at him like he wants to devour him, like he can’t bear to look away. 


“Sorry,” Jungkook says, voice rough. “Been waiting to do that for a while.”


“Oh, yeah?” Jimin says, heart in his throat. 


“Mm, yeah.” Jungkook kisses the corner of his mouth, the desire in his scent tinged with impatience.


Jimin holds him at bay, hands on his chest, laughing helplessly. “I think we’ve just supplied the whole town with gossip for the next week.”


“Who cares?” Jungkook dismisses, but he’s looking at something behind him. Jimin turns to see their neighbors quite obviously tugging the curtains back down. 


“Oh my god,” Jimin whines, burying his face in Jungkook’s chest. 


Jungkook laughs, kissing the top of his head. “It’s okay, baby. They can gossip all they want.”


“I can’t believe you! You’re too much, you just — you just carried me out and then — ”


“And then?” Jungkook says indulgently, pulling Jimin’s head away from his chest so he can look at him. Jimin blushes, avoiding his gaze only for a second — he’s drawn back to it almost immediately, helpless. “Don’t act like you didn't enjoy it. I heard you moan.”


“Jungkook!” Jimin shrieks, swatting at his chest. Jungkook catches his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles, and Jimin flushes until he’s dizzy again. Jungkook’s amber scent is so strong, Jimin thinks he may drown in it.


“I saw Taehyung-ssi poking his head out of the window before he came outside yelling about a fire, by the way,” Jungkook says smugly, and Jimin’s jaw drops in horror. 


“It was his idea, I swear I didn’t — ” Then he gasps, eyes widening. “My cookies!”


He spins to run back into the house but realises the last thing he wants to do is leave Jungkook’s arms, so he turns back, helpless again. 


“Dinner,” he blurts, his hand squeezing Jungkook’s forearm. “Will you come over for dinner sometime?”


Jungkook grins and he’s smug again but Jimin doesn’t have it in him to be anything but fond. “Are you asking me on a date, Jimin hyung?”


“Well, you did save my life,” Jimin giggles, hiding behind his hand. “I think I owe you dinner.”


“Whenever you want me, I’ll be there,” Jungkook promises, and Jimin blushes all over again. “Go save your cookies. I’ll see you around, yeah?”


Jimin pulls away reluctantly, their fingers brushing until the very last second, and backs toward the door. He turns away, heart in his throat, then turns back and Jungkook’s waiting, arms open, grinning. Jimin falls into them, kissing him until he’s breathless again. He holds onto him like a lifeline. 


“Thank you,” he whispers, and he hopes Jungkook understands that he means for everything. 


Jimin’s just put Sua to bed, and is already running through the to-do list he keeps in his head of everything he needs to get done tomorrow. At some point he has to squeeze in a trip to the bank to make a deposit.


He walks into the kitchen expecting it to be empty — his parents tend to share Sua’s bedtime but he finds his father doing the dishes. 


“Dad! I can do those,” Jimin exclaims, rushing over to take the plate he’s scrubbing clean out of his hands. His father clicks his teeth and refuses to hand anything over.


“Go sit,” he instructs, and Jimin feels that familiar twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to make more work for his parents, not when they were older and already did so much. He’d already asked them to do too much last week, what with leaving the restaurant in their hands so he could pick Sua up right from school and bring her straight home.


Normally, one of them picked her up and brought her to the restaurant and then Jimin would shoo them home by eight so Sua could be sleeping by eight thirty. He would close up at ten and then head home himself. 


But being at the restaurant meant Sua would socialise with whoever came in or beg off to go play with some of the kids down the street. Jimin liked having Sua at the restaurant but he also knew he couldn’t let his daughter think she could go around using her alpha voice on people and punching them.


The reprimand had been mostly effective. Sua’s been on her best behaviour even if she’s been grumpy.


“You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know.”


“It’s past nine, Dad, and you hate going to sleep late,” Jimin reasons, not budging from the spot next to his father.


He gets a stern look for his trouble and turns, tail between his legs, to the table. It’s a Friday night, the restaurant will be busy even with all the extra hands they usually have for the busier nights. They are also open an extra hour later on Fridays and Saturdays, trying to make the most of the weekend.


“I’ve been going to sleep late all week. What, you think your old man can’t take it?” he says, finishing up with the dishes. Jimin hadn’t had time to get to them after dinner, leaving them for after Sua went to bed.


“Dad, you know it’s not that,” Jimin whines, sinking down into one of the chairs.


His father walks over, drying his hands on a kitchen cloth, and takes the chair next to him, sighing. “I know.”


“What are you even doing here? It’s so busy at the restaurant, Mom’s going to spend all day tomorrow yelling at you.”


“Your mother’s going to be fine,” he waves off, uncaring of the threat of one Park Misook. 


Jimin’s about to advise his father he should be a little more worried but his father leans onto the table, scent rolling over Jimin comfortingly. He closes his mouth, waiting instead for his father.


“I like him,” he says, and Jimin knows immediately who he means. “Not many alphas his age are so sensible.” He looks at Jimin when he says it, smiling when he sees that Jimin’s cheeks have already coloured.


Of course his parents know about the kiss. The whole damn town knew. His mother had come home that night and given him the smuggest look in the history of mothers but she’d said nothing. Everyone knew but no one was talking to Jimin about it.


Until now.


“Dad,” he starts but Jimin has no idea what he wants to say.


“I’ve always told your mother to stop pestering you about finding a mate but,” he pauses, glancing at Jimin again. “I had hoped you would find someone.”


“We’re not about to get mated!” Jimin exclaims, flustered beyond belief. He’s twenty-six and still mortified to be discussing his dating life with his father. “It’s — It’s just a date.”


“Everything has a beginning,” he smiles, a contemplative look passing over his features like he’s considering his next words very carefully. “I can tell, you know. How scared you are.”


Jimin’s mouth opens and then closes. His father’s expression grows more severe. “Your mother’s fretting but truth be told so am I. Jimin-ah, what are you so worried about?”


It catches him completely off guard, his heart stilling in his chest.


He hadn’t thought he was being obvious but Jimin’s prone to worrying about everything. Jungkook could never be an exception, not when there’s so much at stake. No matter how much he told himself that it was okay to like someone, to want a mate and have a family, Jimin couldn’t keep the thought of it all going to shit out of his head. Even if Sua took to the idea, Jimin’s scared for himself. He’s never even entertained the idea of dating someone since he’s had Sua.


“What if — what if it doesn’t work out, Dad?”


Jimin’s voice is so small it barely comes out. His father hums, like this is exactly what he’d been expecting.


“Do you think you’re not allowed to have a happy ending, Jimin?”


“I don’t know,” he mumbles.


“What do you think Sua will say, if she sees her mother never takes any chances on himself?”


Jimin has no reply, eyes widening.


“You will never be able to guarantee anything,” his father says, reaching out to brush Jimin’s hair back. “But you can always, always do what makes you happy. Does he make you happy?”


He nods, eyes already welling with tears.


“Then that’s enough,” his father says, smiling, a thumb already reaching out to brush Jimin’s eyes dry. “And you know if it doesn’t work out, your father is still here, okay? What are you so worried about?”


“Dad!” Jimin cries, already falling forward into his father’s waiting arms. He breathes in his father’s comforting, smoky scent, and lets out a big sigh, slumping into his hold. “What am I gonna do when you’re gone, huh?”


“You’ll have that Jungkook boy to take care of you,” his father laughs, giving him a squeeze. “The last time I saw your mother this happy, Sua had been born. She won’t stop prattling on about your wedding.”


“It’s just one date!” Jimin cries, pushing himself back up.


“When is this date?” his father asks, a mischievous look in his eyes.


“Sunday!” he huffs, already recalling the text Jungkook had sent confirming it. He was working evenings all week and wouldn’t be free until Sunday.


Jimin thinks Sunday won't come fast enough.


Jimin’s reflection stares back at him. 


The white dress shirt he’d finally gone with after rummaging through his closet for two hours seems too dressy now, but he’d liked how the material let the collar lay flat, revealing his clavicle. He’s left the top three buttons undone and he feels a bit embarrassed, the dip quite low, but it makes him feel sexy.


The sleeves are billowy, and made of a sheerer material, the cuffs tight at his wrists. He’s worn it with the tight black jeans Taehyung always says make his ass look great, the material clinging to every curve of his legs. And finally, he’s added these hooped drop earrings he’d bought two summers ago at the local market and a thin, gold necklace given to him by his parents on his eighteenth birthday that sits just on his collarbones. They glitter with every shift, following along with the billows of the shirt.


Jimin can’t remember the last time he’d gotten this dressed up.


He’s been standing in front of his bedroom mirror staring at himself for the last fifteen minutes, worried that he shouldn’t have parted his hair to the right after all. Not five minutes ago, he’d decided to add some glitter eyeshadow to his eyelids and now he thinks he’s overdone it. He was already wearing lip gloss. 


“Mommy! I’m ready!” 


Sua comes running into the room but stops dead in her tracks, her eyes widening comically. She’s in one of her favourite dresses — a ruby red, her new favourite colour — her grandmother having dolled her up despite the fact that they are only going to Taehyung’s for the evening.


“Wow, Mommy,” Sua exclaims, her eyes practically sparkling as she steps closer. “You look so pretty.”


Jimin lets out a nervous laugh, heartbeat in his throat. “Thanks baby.”


“How come you never dress like that all the time?” she asks, staring at Jimin directly and then looking at him in the mirror.


“You think I have the time to do that?” Jimin laughs, squatting down so he can fuss over the neckline of Sua’s dress.


“But you never dress up to go to Uncle Taetae’s house,” Sua insists, her hand reaching out to play with Jimin’s earrings. 


“Mommy’s not going to Uncle Taetae’s house,” Jimin says, worried about Sua’s reaction. Her brow furrows together in confusion, mouth pursing.


“Why not? Where’s Mommy going?” 


“Nowhere baby. I’m just going to be at home.” Jimin knows he has to talk to Sua about Jungkook and what it would mean if they started dating. But he wants to talk to Jungkook first and be confident that they’re on the same page, that Jungkook’s in this for the long haul.


“I wanna stay at home with you then!” 


“I thought you were excited to see Uncle Taetae?” Jimin’s worry grows, knots tying up in his belly at Sua’s stubborn expression. “Baby, Uncle Taetae promised to take you out for ice cream.”


“But — ”


The doorbell rings and Jimin startles, head whipping to the alarm clock beside his bed. It’s not six yet. Jungkook is almost forty-five minutes early. Sua and her grandmother haven’t even left the house yet. 


“We don’t break our promises,” Jimin tells his daughter, already rushing toward the stairs. If his mother gets to the door first, Jungkook won’t stand a chance.


He beats her to the stairs, her expression morphing from curiosity to smug delight as she takes Jimin in. The air sweetens with her scent, and Jimin narrows his eyes.


“Don’t you dare say anything.”


“What am I going to say, huh?” she huffs, hands on her hips. “Do you think you’re Jo Insung?” She points a finger at him and then waves her hand toward the front door where Jungkook is still waiting. “You’re not that important.”


Jimin holds his retort and rushes down the stairs after sticking his tongue out at her, feeling childish and giddy and nervous all at once. His belly’s aflutter. 


He pauses right in front of the door, swallows, and then grabs the doorknob, yanking the door open. The evening’s cool air is almost a relief against Jimin’s heated skin but the whole world dissolves to nothing, his breath catching in his throat.


Jungkook is standing on his doorstep, long hair swept back artfully, and Jimin’s never seen anyone so gorgeous in his life. He’s got a leather jacket on which seems at odds with the nervous smile he’s giving Jimin, a colourful bouquet of flowers in hand. 


“Wow,” they both say at the same time and Jimin has to hide his laugh behind a hand, cheeks flushing.


Jungkook’s eyes crinkle delightfully and he lets out a puff of air, grinning. “Do I have to wait to kiss you until the end of the date? ’Cause I don’t know if that’s very fair.”


“You can’t just say that!” Jimin exclaims, his already heated cheeks burning even harder. 


“Why not?” Jungkook teases, leaning in a little closer. “There are no rules to dating, you know.”


“Is that why you’re here so early? Sua and my mom haven’t even left yet,” Jimin grumbles, reaching out to tug Jungkook in. The longer Jimin looks at him, the dizzier he feels, Jungkook’s warm amber scent surrounding him the second Jungkook passes through the threshold.


It gives Jimin a chance to look at him a little closer, Jungkook’s leather jacket seemingly made for his proportions as it fits snugly over his sturdy shoulders. He’s wearing tight black jeans that leave Jimin staring at the hard muscle of his thighs and these pointed boots that make him look even taller. Jimin’s favourite detail are the hoop earrings, three in each ear.


Jungkook has the decency to look apologetic at that, wincing. “I thought I was going to go crazy at home.”


“You wanted to see me that bad, hmm?” Jimin grins, eager to have the upper hand for once.


“Well, can you blame me?” Jungkook smiles, all sweet and genuine. And then he leans in just for Jimin, the bouquet of flowers pressing against Jimin’s chest. “You put the sun to shame.” 


Jimin’s belly swoops like he’s on a roller coaster, mouth opening and closing.


“Thank you,” he finally mumbles out, flushed and unable to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard, happiness bubbling out of him.


“Uncle Jungkook!” Sua’s shout comes from the top of the stairs, Jimin’s head whipping in her direction. She runs down the stairs so fast Jimin’s afraid she’ll trip, the steps narrow and a little steep.


“Slow down, baby!” Jimin warns, meeting her a few steps from the bottom of the stairs. “Uncle Jungkook isn’t going anywhere.”


“Is he coming to Uncle Taetae’s with me, Mommy?” she asks, arms outstretched. Jimin picks her up despite the fact that she’s a little too big for him to carry around everywhere. 


“Uncle Jungkook is busy tonight,” Jimin murmurs, chest tightening up again. “Maybe he can go with you another night.”


Sua’s face twists into frustration but thankfully, Jimin’s mother is hot on her heels.


“Aren’t you excited to hang out with your grandma tonight, huh?” she says, pinching Sua’s cheeks. Sua’s pout only deepens but she buries her face into Jimin’s neck, milky scent souring. “Or do you love your Uncle Jungkook even more than me now? Hmm?”


She doesn’t even wait for Sua’s reply before she turns on Jungkook, eyes narrowing. “First you seduce my son and now you’re seducing my granddaughter.”


“Mom!” Jimin shrieks, mortified beyond belief despite Jungkook’s open laughter. He’s completely unfazed.


“I couldn’t help myself, Ms. Park,” Jungkook grins, but Jimin can pick up on how nervous he is through his scent.


“Uncle Jungkook, don’t you wanna come to Uncle Taetae’s house? He’s really nice,” Sua says, her voice coming out soft but cutting through their small talk.


“I’d love to,” he answers, attention turning to her. “But I promised your mom I’d help him out with something.”


“Why can’t I stay at home too, Mommy?” Sua whines, the beginnings of a tantrum already showing. Her scent’s becoming sharper and sharper and Jimin wrinkles his nose, attempting to soothe her.


“Sua, Uncle Jungkook isn’t going anywhere,” Jimin reasons, but she’s glaring at him now.


“No! I want to stay at home!”


“Park Sua, that is not how we behave when there are guests over,” Jimin says, voice low and even. She cows a little, more worried about her mother’s anger than getting her way.


“Hey, sunshine,” Jungkook says, reaching for Sua. She goes to him easily, eyes wet with tears, her arms circling around his neck. The bouquet of flowers is in Jimin’s mom’s hands, Jungkook’s hand rubbing Sua’s back. “How about we do something together tomorrow, hmm?”


Jimin sighs, turning to his mother who looks pleased. “I’ll get my purse and we’ll get going.”


She turns the corner to the kitchen, and Sua’s tears flow free as she turns a betrayed look between the two of them. “How come we can’t do something now? Tomorrow’s too far!”


“Sua — ” Jimin starts, equal parts annoyed and upset that she’s acting this way, and that she’s so deeply attached to Jungkook already. It terrifies him, and yet, it also feels right. 


“I have to help your Mommy, and you’re going to Uncle Taetae’s, right?” Jungkook questions, attempting to wipe away some of Sua’s tears. “You wouldn’t want to make him sad by staying home instead. You can spend time with me tomorrow, promise.”


Sua’s fully crying now, her face scrunched up and red. “It’s not fair!” she wails, kicking her feet, though Jungkook’s hold around her remains steady. Jimin’s heart aches at the sight of his daughter’s distress and Jungkook seems to be faring no better, his scent sharpening. “You didn’t tell me Uncle Jungkook was coming, Mommy, it’s not fair!”


Jimin winces, passing a hand over his face, preparing to take her out of Jungkook’s arms — she’s still struggling, sobbing so hard her nose is running. But instead of handing her over, Jungkook holds her closer, his nose passing over her scent gland. He’s gotten his scent under control, letting off comforting pheromones, and Sua’s wails begin to fade into little hiccups. Jungkook scents her like it’s the most natural thing he could do, hand rubbing up and down her back. She nuzzles into him in return, relaxing, and Jimin can already pick up on the way her milky scent is laced through with Jungkook’s amber. 


“I have to talk to you about something, Sua, alpha to alpha,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice dipping into a lower octave. “But I need you to stop crying and take some deep breaths, can you do that for me?”


Sua nods against his shoulder, sniffling. Jungkook models the breathing for her — inhaling to three, exhaling to three, and she copies him, her small back rising and falling as Jungkook pats it gently. When she’s finally calmed down, he sets her on her feet and crouches so that they’re eye level. 


“I made your mommy a promise,” Jungkook says, and reaching out and taking her hand, “and you made Uncle Taetae a promise, too. Do you think alphas break their promises?”


Sua shakes her head right away. “Mommy says you always have to keep your promises.”


“And he’s right. Are you going to show me how good of an alpha you can be?”


She nods, sniffing again, and Jimin thinks he’ll need to get her a pack of tissues for the ride. “But how come I can’t help too?”


Jungkook glances up at Jimin briefly before looking back at Sua. “Well, I wanted to do something special for your mommy tonight.”


She blinks, interest piqued, and Jimin watches nervously for her reaction. “Special?”


“Mhm,” Jungkook smiles, his attention fixed on Sua. “Your mommy’s always working so hard, so I wanted to help him with something special. You want him to have a special night, right?”


She nods vigorously, and Jimin’s heart swells. “Uh-huh.”


“You’re gonna have to be a good girl and go with your grandma then, okay? So Uncle Jungkook can do something special for your mommy and make him happy. And tomorrow, you and me can spend some time together, sound good?”


She wipes her tears away on the back of her hand. “Okay. You should give Mommy chocolate. He really likes chocolate.”


Jungkook laughs brightly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I’ll do that, sunshine. Look, there’s your grandma with her purse. You’d better get going, Uncle Taetae must be waiting.”


Jimin’s mom already has the tissues in hand. For once, she doesn’t have anything snarky to say; Jimin’s sure she was listening to the whole thing from the kitchen. She pats Jimin’s shoulder as she passes by him. Jungkook stands, stepping aside, and instead of running out the door, Sua turns around and runs right to Jimin, flinging her arms around his legs. 


“I’m sorry,” she says, muffled, and Jimin smiles, the tension melting right off him. He picks her up and kisses both her cheeks. Her scent is fully muddled with Jungkook’s. There’s something comforting about that. 


“Thank you for apologising, baby. Now go have fun, okay?”


He sets her down, and she hops out the door and onto the porch. 


“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jungkook says, and she turns back to him. “You’re looking very pretty tonight, Sua. I like your dress.”


She squirms shyly, running to grab her grandma’s hand. “Thank you,” she mumbles, then hides her face in her side as they head down the steps. 


Jungkook grins, waving to Sua. She waves back, still a little shy, but climbs obediently into the backseat of the car. Jimin walks to the front door, leaning into the door jam to watch them both off. Sua blows him a kiss and Jimin smiles, catching it before his mother drives away.


It hits him then: he’s completely alone with Jungkook.


Jimin doesn’t know how to turn back around, anxiety getting the better of him, but he doesn’t have to figure it out. Jungkook’s hand finds his hip and squeezes gently, his leather jacket cool against Jimin’s body where it touches him.


“You okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice smooth and low and right in Jimin’s ear.


Jimin fights the urge to squirm away, twisting around to find a concerned furrow between Jungkook’s brows. His scent’s wafting around Jimin protectively and Jimin smiles, body moving on its own.


He has his arms wrapped around Jungkook before he knows what he’s doing, face curling into Jungkook’s neck. They haven’t even really started dating and Jimin already feels so at ease, Jungkook’s reliability grounding him.


“Thank you,” he murmurs, needing a moment to collect himself.


Jungkook had handled Sua’s tantrum so gracefully, Jimin’s not sure he’s even gotten her to calm down so quickly. When she’d been younger, sometimes he’d ended up crying afterwards, frustrated and overwhelmed.


“I didn’t do much,” Jungkook replies, a hand smoothing down Jimin’s side as his other arm squeezes Jimin back. “But I’m glad I could help.”


“Please, it’s unfair how good you are with her,” Jimin grumbles, breathing in Sua’s lingering scent on Jungkook. Warmth blooms in his chest at how their scents have mixed together, mind conjuring up images of a family. “Don’t you have any shame?”


Jungkook laughs, the sound rumbling through him. “Shame? Why?”


“You’re one upping me at my own job!” Jimin huffs, reluctantly pushing away from Jungkook. He gives the alpha a glare, stepping inside, and Jungkook has the audacity to smirk at him smugly.


“What can I say, I’m a natural.”


“You’re not supposed to agree!” Jimin exclaims, swatting at Jungkook and pushing him away from the front door. If he gets to squeeze Jungkook’s bicep in the process that’s neither here nor there.


“Why not? The truth’s the truth,” Jungkook grins, a little too bold but Jimin’s retort dies on his tongue; he hasn’t put the maeuntang on the stove yet and Jungkook’s already here.


“Oh my god! Dinner’s not ready!” 


He rushes toward the kitchen, leaving Jungkook at the front door. The clock tells him it’s past six thirty when he reaches the kitchen, a string of curses escaping him. All of the ingredients are prepared but it’ll still take forty minutes for the stew to cook and their date had been for seven.


Jimin hurries over to the stove, turning on the gas. His pot’s already ready with the radish and anchovies, and it looks like his mother’s poured in the water too. He just needs to let it boil for twenty minutes so the anchovies can flavour the broth before he can add in the haddock, clams and oysters.


“Big breath.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind him.


“I’m late! I was supposed to — ”


“It’s just me,” Jungkook soothes, hands finding Jimin’s waist and pulling him in. Jungkook nuzzles into the curve of Jimin’s neck, scent sweet and calming. The stew’s been started and Jimin flushes under the attention. He’d panicked for no reason. “Besides, I think the date’s already started.”


“Is that so?” Jimin grumbles, leaning back into Jungkook’s touch.


Jungkook hums. “I think so. We’re both here, together. Isn’t that all a date is?”


“We’ve spent time together before.”


“Guess this might not be our first date then.”


Jungkook’s voice has grown quiet, a murmur, his head resting against Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin can feel the press of his lips, a shiver running down his spine at the continued sensation. He reaches a hand up, fingers carding through Jungkook’s hair, face turned toward him.


This close, Jimin can only breathe in Jungkook’s scent, amber sweet and warm.


It seems silly to even ask but Jimin knows he has to, even if Jungkook’s intentions are always so sincere and obvious. It’s not something he can have any assumptions about.


“You know Sua comes first, right?” he asks quietly, Jungkook’s hair silky between his fingers.


Jungkook’s head perks up, gaze meeting Jimin’s, and he’s so breathtakingly pretty, eyes startlingly big and clear. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”


“I haven’t told her yet...about, um — ” He’s not sure what to describe them as.




Jimin nods, swallowing.


“We can tell her together if you want.”


He’s resting his cheek on the jut of Jimin’s shoulder and Jimin can’t get over how handsome he is, how he wants to lean in and just kiss him over and over and over again. Instead, Jimin lets his hands slide over Jungkook’s, weight settling further back into him.


Jimin hates the way his chest squeezes tight. He doesn’t want to believe Jungkook is anything but genuine. 


“I...You’re serious about this right? I don’t want to tell her if...if you’re not.”


“Hyung,” Jungkook says, voice soft. He pulls himself to his full height and Jimin has to shift his weight forward, suddenly eye to eye with Jungkook. He's got a little furrow between his brows and Jimin feels bad just looking at it. “I’m not — I know what the stakes are. I want it all, okay? You and Sua and a family.” 


His hands come up to cup Jimin’s face, thumb brushing over Jimin’s cheek. “I’ve always wanted a family. And if I get to have one with you, I don’t think I’ll ever ask for anything else again.”


Jimin lets out a choked little laugh, eyes blurring with tears. If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, maybe he’d tell Jungkook what a sap he is. Except that Jungkook’s every word only reinforces what Jimin already knew. That he likes Jungkook so much and he wants so badly to take this chance.


“I’m sorry, I didn’t — I never doubted you, I just...I needed to hear it,” Jimin says, his voice cracking. He breaks eye contact, gaze dropping. “I never dated because I was always worried she’d grow attached to them and then they’d leave. It’s one thing if someone breaks my heart but… if it’s hers? I’d never be able to forgive myself.”


“I don’t know how the future’s going to unfold, Jimin hyung, but I know every time I close my eyes, I see you and Sua,” Jungkook says, a conviction in his voice that makes Jimin's heart ache, his scent sweet and comforting. Jungkook tilts Jimin's head up, forcing him to look at him. “Thank you for trusting me.”


Jimin gives a jerky nod, not trusting himself to keep the tears at bay if he opens his mouth. Jungkook’s smile is big and toothy, goes all the way up to his eyes, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s forehead.


“I’d like to tell her together,” Jimin murmurs. He leans forward until his head’s resting on Jungkook’s shoulder and lets himself breathe in Jungkook's warm scent.


“Whatever you’d like, baby,” Jungkook smiles, the words muffled into Jimin’s hair. 


“What I’d like is to eat dinner.”


“Guess you should have made it earlier, then, huh?”


Jimin gasps, pulling away from Jungkook. “I had everything timed perfectly... ”


Jungkook’s laughing openly, his eyes crinkling up into little crescents and the words just kind of die in Jimin’s mouth. He’s already a goner.


“Stop being so handsome and go… go do something else,” Jimin grumbles, turning away from Jungkook. He spots the flowers his mother’s left on the dining table and beelines for them, Jungkook’s delight evident in the way his scent sweetens.


“You think I’m handsome?”


“Like you don’t know,” Jimin huffs, grabbing the bouquet of flowers.


It’s a beautiful assortment and Jimin’s pretty sure the flowers are all from Jungkook’s own garden. He’s even wrapped it up in the fancy paper the florists use, a silky pink ribbon wrapped around the base and tied into a big bow in the front.


“I’m beginning to think there’s nothing you can’t do,” Jimin murmurs, fingers tracing over the delicate petals of a pink rose. He’d seen the bush nestled under one of the windows on the back of Jungkook’s house.


“There’s plenty I can’t do,” Jungkook says, walking over to Jimin. He’s tugged his leather jacket off, revealing the animal print dress shirt underneath. It’s tucked into his pants to accentuate his slim waist and Jimin drags his eyes back up, but it’s a mistake. The shirt’s made of this sheer material, almost see through, and Jimin drinks in every little sliver of skin and then his eyes land on Jungkook’s right nipple.


It’s pierced.


Jimin’s mouth waters.


His sense of preservation goes out the window, and the words tumble out of his mouth, unprompted. “You didn’t have that in the calendar.”


Jungkook stills mid-motion, his jacket still in his hands, hovering above the kitchen chair he was about to drape it over.


Jimin’s eyes widen as he realises exactly what he’s admitted to.


“Not that I — I mean — That is — ”


Jungkook’s very obviously biting back his smile, the jacket finally dropped onto the back of the chair. He clears his throat, looking Jimin dead in the eye and leans forward, very purposefully crossing his arms so he can rest them on the chair. It only makes his biceps flex, his shirt straining to hold everything in.


“You bought the calendar?” Jungkook’s grin is shit eating and Jimin’s so mortified he can feel the heat sinking from his face all the way down his neck to his chest.


“No!” Jimin squeaks very convincingly. “I have — I have no idea what you’re talking about!”


He swivels on the spot, returning to the pot of maeuntang, still clutching the flowers in his hands. His hold on them is so tight, he thinks he might have broken a stem or two.


“Mmhmm,” Jungkook hums, walking right up behind Jimin. Hands find Jimin’s waist, Jungkook’s breath hot against the shell of Jimin’s ear. “I took the picture before I got it. We made the calendar last year, you know.”


“Taehyung said — ” Jimin slaps a hand over his own mouth, caught in his lie.


“What did Taehyung-ssi say?”




Jimin can feel Jungkook stifling his laughter, his hand coming up and grabbing the bouquet of flowers. He tosses the flowers onto the counter and Jimin’s about to protest but Jungkook’s got him tight in his hold and Jimin refuses to look back at him.


“You don’t like it?” Jungkook’s voice is barely a whisper, Jimin shivering at the way his voice dips an octave lower.


“Why wouldn’t I like it?” Jimin says, heat twisting in his belly hotter and hotter.


Jungkook presses the softest of kisses against Jimin’s neck, breathing him in. “Is it that hard to say you like it hyung?”


“I like you, isn’t that enough?” Jimin’s heart is beating so loud, he’s sure Jungkook can feel it, pressed so close to him.


“You like all of me?” 


Jimin swallows. “Every little thing.”


Jungkook stills at that, and Jimin has to bite back his laughter, waiting for Jungkook’s response. 


“We’ll see how little it is when you’re — ”


“Jungkook!” Jimin gasps, feigning offense as he twists around to give Jungkook a glare. He slips right out of his grasp, laughter bubbling out of him at Jungkook’s pursed lips and pouty expression.




“Sex jokes on the first date? I thought you were trying to make a good impression.” Jimin skirts around Jungkook to retrieve the flowers, opening one of the cabinets where his mother keeps the vases. The one he wants is on the top shelf, and he raises himself on his tiptoes to reach. 


“I’m not making a good impression?” 


Jungkook’s voice, though teasing, carries a note of genuine concern. His chest presses flush against Jimin’s back as he reaches past him to grab the vase, his scent filling Jimin’s lungs. He sets the vase on the counter and Jimin turns around, resting a hand on Jungkook’s arm. 


“Of course you are,” he says, and Jungkook’s face relaxes into a smile.


Jungkook takes the vase and fills it with water, so Jimin grabs a pair of scissors and trims the flower stems before putting the bouquet in the vase. He places it on the counter’s center, where it brightens the room considerably. Jimin moves to check on the stew, and Jungkook leans back against the counter, resting his hands on the edge. 


“Can I help?” Jungkook offers, and Jimin glances back at him. It’s a mistake. His shirt’s stretched over his chest, and Jimin’s gaze is drawn helplessly to the piercing. Jungkook doesn’t miss it. When Jimin finally manages to drag his eyes back up, Jungkook’s smirking. 


“I already told you what you should do,” Jimin sniffs, turning back to the stew. 


“What, go be handsome somewhere else?”


“If you already know, why are you asking?”


“Can’t do that, sorry,” Jungkook says easily. “We’re on a date. Shouldn’t I get to spend it looking at you?”


Jimin blushes all the way to his toes. He purses his lips to keep the giddy smile away before he turns back to face Jungkook, steeling himself for the sight of him in his ridiculously sheer shirt. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get through the night when Jungkook’s dressed like that


“Oh, is that a rule?” Jimin raises an eyebrow in challenge. 


“It’s my rule,” Jungkook grins. “But seriously, Jimin hyung, let me help. I hate sitting still almost as much as you do.”


“Come watch the pot,” Jimin allows. “In about five minutes, add in everything on the tray over there, and then you can let it sit.”


Jungkook takes his place by the stove as Jimin opens the fridge to retrieve the side dishes he’d prepped ahead of time. He starts warming up anything that needs it and plating the rest, arranging the table carefully. 


Maeuntang, huh?” Jungkook makes an appreciative noise as he leans over the pot. “Is this because I said it was my favorite?”


“Well, if you’re only after me for my cooking, what better way to keep you around?”


Jungkook laughs. “You know I’m after you for a lot more than that. Are you fishing for compliments?”


“I’m not opposed,” Jimin says coyly, putting a hand on his hip and surveying Jungkook across the kitchen. 


“I don’t think you could take it. I made one sex joke and you turned red as a tomato.”


“Jungkook!” he shrieks, and Jungkook only laughs harder. “Are you saying all your compliments are related to sex? You better get out of my house — ”


“I’m teasing, I’m teasing!” Jungkook placates through laughter, holding up his hands as he comes for Jimin, who wards him off with a plate. 


“Maybe I shouldn’t have made you maeuntang after all, you know we charge money for this right — ”


Jungkook takes the plate from Jimin and sets it back on the table, crowding him against the edge and taking his wrists in his hands. His scent’s overwhelming and Jimin falters, heart thudding hard in his chest. 


“You’re so cute, hyung,” Jungkook says, then leans in and kisses Jimin’s nose. 


Jimin’s skin heats up but before he can respond, Jungkook’s already pulling away and returning to the stew to add the remaining ingredients, right on time. Flushing, Jimin reaches up and brushes the tip of his nose where Jungkook’s lips had touched. It feels silly, but he can’t stop smiling. 


“We should have had dinner at my place,” Jungkook says ruefully. “You must be tired of cooking this every day.”


“This is different,” Jimin says immediately. Jungkook glances back at him, waiting, so Jimin explains. “Cooking at the restaurant is tedious, but cooking for loved ones is different. I’ve always enjoyed it.”


Jungkook’s face softens. To Jimin’s surprise, his ears are turning a little red, and he clears his throat and turns back to the stew, where Jimin can no longer see his face. He can still see the red creeping up the nape of his neck, and then it hits him. Loved ones. 


“I mean it,” Jimin murmurs quietly, and the smile Jungkook turns on him is full and bright. 


They finish up dinner together, working in tandem, and it’s supposed to be a date but Jimin can’t help but marvel at how domestic it feels. They fit together so easily. By the time they sit down to eat, his tension is gone, and he’s relieved Jungkook had decided to show up so early. The extra time together has only reminded him of how badly he wants this. 


Jungkook makes an appreciative noise as soon he takes his first bite. “Delicious, hyung. Every time I eat your maeuntang it feels like the first time.”


Jimin smiles into his own bowl, pleased. “If I knew you liked it this much, I’d save you a bowl every time we made it.”


Jungkook’s eyes go puppy-dog wide. “Can you?”


“I’ll start a personal maeuntang drop-off service just for you.”


“Make it a takeout service. I want an excuse to come flirt with you at work.”


“Quit it,” Jimin whines, flushing red, and Jungkook laughs. 


Jungkook makes a sizable dent in the pot all on his own, and Jimin’s pleased. When they’re done, he insists on doing the dishes, and Jimin has to drag him out of the kitchen with the promise of a movie for him to stop. They settle on something easily — it seems like they have the same taste in movies and waste no time picking. 


Jimin brings them snacks and takes a seat on the couch. As soon as he does, Jungkook scoots over until they’re pressed against each other, thigh-to-thigh. 


“Couch too small for you?” Jimin says wryly.


Jungkook’s unfazed if his winning smile is anything to go by. “We’re on a date. Don’t I get to be as close to you as possible?”


He slings an arm over the back of the couch, behind Jimin’s shoulders, and Jimin shoots him a look but relaxes against his side. Jungkook’s warm and solid, his scent filling the air around them. “So we’ve got two rules so far, got it. You get to look at me all night, and you get to be close to me.”


“Sounds like you’re getting the idea.”


Jungkook leans past Jimin to reach for a snack, filling Jimin’s vision with a close-up of his strong chest and shoulders, the sheer material of his shirt leaving little to the imagination. Jimin swallows harshly, feeling the way he’s starting to heat up, and only takes a breath when Jungkook sits back again. 


It really isn’t fair how attractive Jungkook is. Possibly even downright illegal.


“You know,” Jimin says, entirely too distracted to pay attention to the movie, “it doesn’t make sense that they let you become a firefighter.”


Jungkook pauses, a honey chip halfway to his mouth. His brow furrows together cutely. “What do you mean?”


“I’m pretty sure you’re a public safety hazard.”


It takes Jungkook a moment for the words to sink in, confusion melting away into a sly smirk. 


Jimin’s doing his absolute best to hold his solemn expression.


“Oh, so you’re saying I'm hot, huh, Jimin-ssi?”


“That’s not — ” Jimin starts, face already aflame. He hadn’t expected Jungkook to be so brazen but he really shouldn’t have miscalculated. “You’re not even hot.”


“I’m not?” Jungkook asks, feigning surprise.


“Shut up and watch the movie,” Jimin grumbles, purposefully twisting away from Jungkook. He can feel the tremors running through Jungkook’s body as he laughs silently and has to quell the urge to look back, to see the smile on Jungkook’s face.


“How can you tell me to watch the movie when you were watching me?”


“Who said I was — ”


Jungkook’s laughing out loud now, Jimin’s retort dying in his mouth. He’s exactly where Jungkook wanted him, attention fixed entirely back on him. The look of triumph on Jungkook’s face shouldn’t melt Jimin’s heart except it does and he’s so fucked.


“You’re so cute, hyung.”


“I know I am,” Jimin grumbles, falling back into the couch, arms crossing over his chest. He very pointedly ignores Jungkook’s gaze on him, refusing to give him anything else. On the screen, he can see Song Joongki in the cockpit of a spaceship. “You’re missing the movie.”


“It’s okay,” Jungkook grins. “My view is prettier.”


Jimin’s blushing, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the TV screen, unwilling to fall for it again. “You are too much, Jungkook-ssi.” 


“Am I?” Jungkook’s arm slides down the couch, closer to Jimin’s shoulders, and Jimin can feel the brush of his fingertips against his neck. A shiver runs up his spine, and when Jungkook leans toward him, Jimin can’t help but look. He’s so close Jimin wonders if he could count his eyelashes. His eyes are dark and fixed intently on Jimin in a way that has his body heating up, and he resists the urge to squirm. 


“I think you like it,” Jungkook says in a low voice, like it’s a secret. 


Then he pulls away abruptly, settling in to watch the movie and leaving Jimin reeling. For a moment he can’t do anything but stare at Jungkook helplessly, his profile lit up by the TV. He drags his gaze away with effort but can’t focus on whatever’s happening on screen, feeling himself blushing so hard Jungkook can probably tell, even in the dark. He squirms the slightest bit. There’s no way his scent hasn’t spiked enough for Jungkook to pick up on it, but it’s not his fault Jungkook is a walking talking wet dream. 


Jungkook pushes his fingers into Jimin’s hair, stroking the nape of his neck. Jimin goes rigid, squeezing his legs together, breathing shallowly. 


“I like the robot,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he isn’t scratching lightly at his nape, his thumb resting on the curve of Jimin’s neck. 


“Me, too,” Jimin manages to respond, even though he definitely hasn’t been paying enough attention to know anything about the robot. 


Jungkook doesn’t let up, fingers threading through Jimin’s hair, and Jimin tries to hold it together. He finds himself chancing a glance over at Jungkook again, and it’s a mistake, of course. Jungkook is unbearably handsome. His breath catches in his throat and he can’t look away. It’s way too early in the night for Jimin to want to climb Jungkook like a tree as badly as he does, but he can hardly help it. He can see the curves of Jungkook’s pecs in the low dip of his shirt and wants to put his mouth on them. Wants to climb onto his lap and feel those strong thighs beneath him, wants Jungkook to flip him onto the couch and hold his wrists over his head — 


“What?” Jungkook says, knocking Jimin right out of his reverie. He’s caught him staring, and he has one eyebrow raised in amusement. 


“Nothing,” Jimin huffs, turning away. He’d been about to leak slick just from imagining Jungkook manhandling him. He’s a lost cause. “I’m gonna make us some tea,” he announces, needing to get some distance between them before he embarrasses himself. 


When he stands up, he realises it’s too late. He’s a little wet already. There’s no way Jungkook hasn’t noticed, but Jimin walks to the kitchen like nothing’s wrong, biting his lip in mortification. He pulls out a pot to fill with water, trying to think about unsexy things like mopping the restaurant floor or his dad trimming his nose hairs. It doesn’t work. His mind keeps going back to his legs around Jungkook’s waist, Jungkook lifting him up —




Jungkook’s voice startles Jimin so badly he nearly drops the pot, setting it down on the stove with a muttered exclamation. He sucks in a breath before turning around but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Jungkook’s crowding him in and caging him against the counter, leaning down to breathe him in.


“I smell that.”


Jimin’s breath hitches, face aflame. “S-smell what?”


He’d meant it to sound indifferent but it comes out like a croak and Jungkook’s eyes bore into his own. Jimin can hear all the blood rush past his ears, the whole world melting away until everything is Jungkook, just Jungkook.


He can’t look away.


“Jimin,” Jungkook says, tone softer, hands finally gripping Jimin by the hips. There’s something desperate about it, in how Jungkook looks at him, at how he says Jimin’s name. “Hyung.”


Jimin doesn’t know how to respond, fingers curling into the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt, body aflame just at Jungkook’s close proximity. Jungkook’s scent is overpowering, filling the little kitchen until it’s like the house belongs to him and not Jimin’s family. Somehow, Jungkook’s even closer, his pelvis meeting Jimin’s and Jimin shivers at the touch, eyes nearly slipping shut when he feels the growing hardness of Jungkook’s cock.


All Jimin can do is stare at Jungkook’s mouth, at the way his cupid’s bow curves prettily, at the little mole just under his bottom lip. He can feel Jungkook’s breath against his own skin, can tell that he’s inching closer and closer and Jimin’s heart is in his throat.


He knows what he wants.


He’s known for a while now.


He kisses Jungkook.


And every ounce of control that Jungkook’s been exerting snaps.


Jimin’s yelp of surprise is swallowed whole by Jungkook, the alpha kissing Jimin back with such a ferocity it overwhelms him. One moment Jimin’s feet are planted firmly on the ground, and the next, Jungkook’s big hands are gripping him by the thighs and picking him up like it’s nothing. Jungkook pushes him onto the counter, hands dragging up to Jimin’s waist and squeezing.


Jimin lets out a gasp, hands scrambling up Jungkook’s chest, palming over his shoulders until his arms are wrapping around Jungkook’s neck. Their teeth clatter together in their haste, Jungkook’s nose rubbing against Jimin’s, head tilting, uncaring of anything but Jimin. His tongue plunges in, sliding along Jimin’s before pulling back, teeth nipping at Jimin’s lips. He tugs on Jimin’s bottom lip, sucking on the plush softness, his tongue stroking against Jimin’s. 


His warm amber scent surrounds Jimin so completely he can’t think straight, mind growing hazy with lust. Jungkook’s hands drag along Jimin’s sides, pushing down until he’s squeezing Jimin’s ass and tugging Jimin in as close as he can get. 


Jimin’s skin tingles up his spine, an electric arousal rushing through him. He kisses Jungkook back harder, a little sloppy in his haste. It’s all so much and somehow not enough.


Jimin’s never wanted someone with such a hunger before. It feels all-consuming, like he could never tire of the taste of Jungkook’s mouth or ever be full with just this. Jimin wants more and more and more.


He sucks on Jungkook’s tongue, a whine escaping him when Jungkook brings a hand up to cup his cheek, the other gripping him by the back of the neck.


“Jung — Jungkook,” Jimin breathes, cheeks already hot, skin aflame. The neediness in his voice hardly makes a difference, not when his own jasmine scent reveals exactly how desperate he already is. “Alpha, please.


“Yeah baby?” Jungkook asks, pulling away just enough to litter kisses along Jimin’s jaw. “I’m right here.”


“Want — want you,” Jimin pleads, bringing his legs up to wrap around Jungkook’s slim waist. He presses himself forward, closing any and all distance between them. “Need you, Alpha.”


Jungkook curses under his breath, the hand on Jimin’s neck fisting into his hair. Jimin yelps when Jungkook yanks his head back, the kiss breaking. He’s left gasping, chest heaving, unable to look away from the fire in Jungkook’s eyes.


“Do you even know what you’re begging for?” Jungkook asks, his tone hard and it sends a shiver up Jimin’s spine.


He gives a jerky nod, fingers digging into Jungkook’s back, breathing hard. “Want you to — to ruin me. Please Alpha.”


“And if I want everything?”


“Then take everything,” Jimin says breathless. Jungkook’s hold loosens, another string of curses escaping him. Jimin closes the distance between them, kisses Jungkook hard, never more sure of anything. “Make me yours, Alpha.”


“Fuck, hyung,” Jungkook groans, pressing quick kisses all along Jimin’s jaw before he’s mouthing at Jimin’s neck, tongue laving over Jimin’s scent gland. Jimin’s cock twitches in his pants, the telltale stickiness of his arousal beginning to gather between his cheeks.


Jungkook growls as Jimin’s sweet jasmine scent permeates the air, his grip on Jimin’s neck tightening. “Smell so good, baby. So good.”


He bites right into Jimin’s neck, just under his scent gland, sucking hard against the skin and Jimin knows it’ll leave a mark, that he shouldn’t let Jungkook do it, not so far up, but he whines so loud, slick dripping out of him even faster.


Jungkook is marking him and the thrill of it has Jimin burning inside out, face burying into Jungkook’s shoulder. He sucks harder, Jimin’s legs squeezing even tighter around him as his belly clenches, arousal like an open flame, consuming him entirely.


“You get that wet for me, baby?” Jungkook’s voice is rough with need, low and cocksure, and of course he knows the answer. He just wants to hear Jimin say it. “You like me that much?”


It’s embarrassing to reply, to admit it, but Jimin’s so horny, so desperate that nothing else matters. He’s putty in Jungkook’s hands, every instinct screaming at him to please, to submit.


“Already told you I like you,” Jimin manages, face turning inward to Jungkook. His chest tightens impossibly. “’Course you get me wet.”


Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, kissing Jimin roughly, more spit and tongue than finesse. “Are you gonna show me how wet you are for me, baby? Gonna present yourself to your Alpha?”


Jimin moans loud at that, thinks that if he’d been standing his knees would have given out from under him.


Your Alpha.


“Yes,” Jimin says, words tumbling forward. “I’ll be so good for you Alpha. Promise — promise, I’ll be so good and I’ll do — I’ll do anything. Please, please want you so bad.”


“Mmm, I bet you will,” Jungkook murmurs, his tone condescending, mouth right at Jimin’s ear. “Isn’t that why you ran off to the kitchen? Cause you were too busy leaking slick to watch the movie?”


Jimin goes red at the words, eyes squeezing shut. He’d thought Jungkook wouldn’t tease him over it, belly swooping as Jungkook kisses him just behind his ear.


“You better admit it baby,” Jungkook whispers, “or I don’t think you’ll be able to keep that promise you just made.”


“But — ” Jimin tries, heart beating so hard against his chest, he thinks it’ll burst right out. “It’s e-embarrassing.”


“Guess you don’t need me that bad, then, huh?” Jungkook says, disappointment creeping into his voice. His expression morphs into something impassive, leaning back and away from Jimin


“No!” Jimin cries out, fingers digging into Jungkook’s forearms to keep him close. “I — I was wet. Wanted you to push me down and,” the words stick to Jimin’s tongue, his chest full, but he wants to please. He wants to be good. “And f-fuck me right there.”


Jungkook’s whole demeanour changes, the indifference washing away in the blink of an eye.


“Yeah?” Jungkook says, his words coming out rougher, already leaning back in. Jimin shivers under his gaze, at the way Jungkook’s eyes rake over him like a hungry beast. “Have you been thinking about me fucking you often, baby? Do you like getting off to me?”


Jungkook,” Jimin whines, the skin on the back of his neck prickling.


“Thought you were gonna be good for me.” Jungkook’s tilting his head just a little, hand coming up to cup Jimin’s cheek. He brushes a thumb over Jimin’s mouth, dragging it over Jimin’s lips. “Good omegas are honest. Aren’t you gonna tell me how many times you came looking at that calendar? Or does it not matter, hyung. Would anyone do it for you?”


“No!” Jimin exclaims, wishing Jungkook would let him push closer. “How could — I only want you! Only, only ever think about you.” Jimin’s cheeks are heated, gaze dropping to Jungkook’s neck. How’s he supposed to confess that he has gotten off looking at Jungkook’s calendar picture?


Jungkook waits patiently, his lips quirked up, like he knows just what’s going through Jimin’s mind.


“And what do you think about, baby?”


“You’re really going to make me say it?” Jimin grumbles, refusing to meet Jungkook’s eyes.


“I like seeing you squirm,” Jungkook grins, leaning in. Jimin’s breath catches in his throat and he falls backwards, head meeting the cupboard. “You’re just so cute, hyung.”


“And you’re a brat,” Jimin accuses, but he’s biting on his lip, belly twisting into knots. 


“You can tell me baby.”


“I think about you fucking me.” Jimin has to blurt it out, the words refusing to come out. He’s never said anything like this out loud before. “T-think about how full I’ll feel, h-how your c-cock will stretch me open, how you’ll hold me down and call me a...”


“Call you a what?”


Jimin can’t look away from Jungkook’s eyes, his heartbeat stuttering to a stop in his chest. He swallows. “Call me a slut.”


Jungkook groans, eyes slipping shut. His scent’s so sharp, Jimin thinks he’d be leaking just from the sweetness of it alone if he weren’t already so wet.


“I should have known you’d have a filthy little mouth on you,” Jungkook says, hands grasping Jimin by the waist aggressively. “Guess that’s what happens when you’ve never been fucked right in your life.”


Jimin’s protest is swallowed by Jungkook as he rushes forward to kiss Jimin, mouth insistent against Jimin’s. He’s pulling Jimin forward, his ass sliding over the counter, and Jimin finds himself half dangling off the countertop, Jungkook’s hips rolling up.


He whines so loud at the feel of Jungkook’s cock it’s embarrassing, the desire so evident in his voice. Heat licks at his belly, fingers scrambling for purchase along Jungkook’s back. His nails drag over the silky fabric of Jungkook’s shirt and Jimin’s breaking the kiss, mouth finding the exposed skin of Jungkook’s neck and latching on. 


There’s a fervor running through him, impatience getting the better of him. He kisses down the line of Jungkook’s neck, one hand attempting to tug at his collar to reveal more skin. Jungkook gets the idea, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons on the shirt quickly for Jimin. His hands find Jimin’s thighs next, dragging over the meat of them until his fingers dig into the flesh of Jimin’s ass.


Jimin squirms at the tingles that run along his skin at Jungkook’s touch, mouthing and kissing along the stretch of Jungkook’s clavicle. The ink along his right shoulder becomes more and more evident, but it’s the lion that catches Jimin’s eyes, dark ink contrasting prettily with Jungkook’s sun-kissed skin.


Jimin’s practically drooling at the sight of it.


It’s criminal how hot Jungkook is.


“’S not fair,” Jimin grumbles, already tugging Jungkook’s shirt out of the way. His hand brushes over Jungkook’s nipple and he watches the alpha shiver at the touch, mouth following suit.


“What’s not fair?” Jungkook asks, teasing, and Jimin glares up at him. 


He swirls his tongue over the hardening bud, lips closing over Jungkook’s nipple before he sucks against it. Jungkook lets out a low moan, breath hitching, eyes half lidded, and Jimin shivers at the thrill of it. 


He looks pretty like this, too.


Jungkook’s scent only sharpens more and it’s like Jimin can taste it against his skin, warm amber filling Jimin’s mouth. His tongue laves over Jungkook’s nipple, the tip tracing around the areola until Jungkook’s grabbing him by the neck harshly, brows furrowing together, mouth parted.


Jimin lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin around Jungkook’s nipple, finds himself kissing upwards along the ink of Jungkook’s tattoo, mouth greedy for every inch of Jungkook's skin it can kiss.


The roaring lion watches his slow ascent, eyes following Jimin’s movement. His tongue traces over the crisp lines, Jungkook leaning into the touch and Jimin’s fingers dig deeper into Jungkook’s side.


He licks right over the mane, mouth finding its way back to Jungkook’s collarbone, biting into the bone hard enough to make Jungkook curse. Jungkook’s hand, which had rested patiently on the back of Jimin’s neck, grips him by the hair again and drags Jimin up. Their mouths meet in a hungry kiss, Jimin whining. He hadn’t even gotten to play with the pierced nipple.


But Jungkook’s touch has grown impatient, desperate, tongue licking into Jimin’s mouth with the same greed Jimin feels clawing through him.


Jungkook pushes Jimin back, his hand pressing down on Jimin’s chest until Jimin’s right up against the cupboards again. For a split second, Jimin gets to take all of Jungkook in: his shirt half unbuttoned and stretching over the bulge of his biceps, the dip between his pecs mesmerizingly well defined, his perfectly sculpted abs.


Jungkook smirks, catching Jimin in the act once more.


“You don’t have to be so smug about it,” Jimin mutters, reaching out to pull Jungkook closer by his shirt. Jungkook doesn’t budge and laughs when Jimin glares at him. He’s too horny for this.


“Don’t worry,” Jungkook grins, “I can’t take my eyes off you either.”


“Oh yeah?” Jimin says, not wanting to back down. He tilts his head to the left, baring his throat, his hair falling into his eyes. “You like what you see, Alpha?”


Jungkook snorts, grabbing Jimin’s hand and rubbing it down on his cock. “Don’t think I’d be this hard if I didn’t, right hyung?”


Jimin flushes, heat searing through him and he lets out a humiliating whine when slick dribbles out of him. Jungkook’s huge.


Would Jimin even be able to take him? He swallows, mouth watering at the thought.


“Never seen such a pretty omega,” Jungkook continues, leaning in and kissing Jimin while holding Jimin’s hand in place. He rolls his hips up just right, moaning at the friction, the sheer size of him dwarfing Jimin’s hand. “With such a pretty, fuckable mouth.” He bites into Jimin’s bottom lip just after he says it, sucking on the flesh when Jimin whines. “And such a pretty, fuckable ass.”


“Then you should fuck me,” Jimin gasps out, preening at the knowledge that he’s gotten Jungkook so hot and bothered.


“Are you desperate for me, baby?” Jungkook smirks, and Jimin can feel the way his mouth curves upward. “Should have known you’d be like this.”


“What’s — what’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin accuses, whimpering when he feels Jungkook’s hands unbuttoning his pants. Jimin pushes himself up to help Jungkook out, ass lifting off the counter as Jungkook pulls down his pants.


“It means,” Jungkook says slow and deliberate, spotting the pink lace of Jimin’s underwear. He pauses, hooking a finger right through the band and yanking it upwards until it digs into Jimin’s cheeks. “That my hyung’s a needy little slut, isn’t he?”


Jimin collapses back onto the counter, blushing hard enough that he can feel the heat sink down his neck to his chest. 


“You wear these for me, too, Jimin?” Jungkook asks, voice low and dangerous. He can’t seem to take his eyes off Jimin’s lacy thong. “Did you want to get fucked that bad? Had it all planned out?”


“Y-yeah,” Jimin answers, heart in his throat. He spreads his legs apart, the zipper on his pants pulled downwards and exposing the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric. “Wanted to look pretty for you Alpha.”


“You look so pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs, letting go of Jimin’s underwear. He palms over Jimin’s cock, fixated by the sight. “So pretty for your Alpha.”


Jungkook’s enraptured, peeling Jimin’s pants right off despite how they catch on the curve of his ass. He leaves Jimin in his underwear, fingers trailing up Jimin’s thigh until they’re grazing along the edges. Jimin had worn the thong in hopes that the night would lead here but now, with Jungkook’s gaze burning into him, he can’t help but feel overwhelmed.


There’s enough slick against his cheeks that the counter’s wet.


Suddenly, Jimin’s all too aware of where they are.


“Jungkook,” he starts but Jungkook’s already dropping to his knees, pushing Jimin’s legs apart, his big hands gripping him by the thighs. Jungkook leans right in, lips meeting the skin at Jimin’s knee so tenderly that Jimin’s toes curl, heart lurching in his chest. He presses kisses up Jimin’s spread thighs, switching sides when he feels like it and Jimin can’t breathe, hands clutching the edge of the counter for dear life. His breath is hot against Jimin’s bare skin and Jimin shivers, lip caught between his teeth, a tremble coursing through him.


Jungkook glances up at him, tongue licking over a particularly soft spot and then sinks his teeth in. Jimin gasps, body bowing forward, hands scrambling for purchase and finding Jungkook’s back. Jungkook sucks against the mark, tongue working over the bite he’s left. When he pulls back Jimin’s already got a bruise, the skin bright red. He flushes, breath hitching, eyes meeting Jungkook’s.


Jimin’s heartbeat stutters in his chest, Jungkook’s gaze heated and thick with desire. 


The hands on his thighs trail upward, gripping Jimin by the ass and yanking him forward. Jimin lets out an embarrassed squeak, his ass wet from his own slick and making the glide a lot easier. Jungkook lets out a throaty moan, face digging right into Jimin’s groin, and Jimin whimpers, heat radiating from his face.


Jungkook,” Jimin says, his voice strained. Jungkook’s breath is hot against his cock, his nose digging into Jimin’s pelvis. “W-what’re you doing?”


“You dressed up all pretty for me baby,” Jungkook says, mouthing over the tip of Jimin’s leaking cock. “Aren’t you gonna let me enjoy it?”


“You don’t have to — to — ” 


Jimin’s not quite sure what he’s trying to say. Back when he had been experimenting in college, no one really taken their time with him like this. Mostly, everything had been about knotting him as quickly as possible. 


Having Jungkook on his knees in front of him like this...Jimin’s heart is in his throat.


There’s a moment’s pause, Jungkook’s head resting against Jimin’s thigh and Jimin lets out a shuddering breath. Jungkook shouldn’t look so good, the slope of his nose strong, kitchen light catching on the smooth jut of Jungkook’s cheekbones. His slicked back hair is starting to come loose, strands falling forward to frame his face.


Jungkook’s rubbing a hand up and down his thigh.


“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook asks, voice sweet and soft, and Jimin’s heart stumbles in his chest. 


Jimin gives a jerky nod.


“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to,” Jungkook says slowly, his hand stilling. “I was just hoping to have dessert.”


“I’m not — ” Jimin starts, flushing but Jungkook’s grinning, entirely too pleased with himself.


He pushes up, giving Jimin a kiss that has him falling back against the cupboards. He balances himself even as Jungkook pushes forward, kissing him harder, tongue slipping into Jimin’s mouth and sliding against Jimin’s wetly.


He’s so distracted by Jungkook’s mouth, he doesn’t remember to think, to get caught up in his own head. Jungkook breaks the kiss only to litter kisses down Jimin’s throat, hands finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one clean go.


Jimin’s left almost entirely naked, his underwear barely covering anything.


Jungkook licks his lips, taking Jimin in, and Jimin squirms, mouth opening and closing uselessly. 


“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, mouth finding Jimin’s scent gland and kissing it. He scents Jimin with a reverence that makes him tremble, tears clinging to his eyes. Jungkook’s nose digs into his scent gland, breath hot against Jimin’s skin, and he’s thorough, leaves Jimin feeling hazy and so wet that Jimin’s pretty sure he could slip three fingers into himself with ease.


Jungkook goes slow, teeth scraping over Jimin’s skin, tongue laving over the little bites he leaves. Jimin whines and moans at his descent, back arching as he pushes into the heat of Jungkook’s mouth, chasing after more. 


Jungkook licks over Jimin’s nipple, the tip tracing over the areola, wetting the skin before he suckles it into his mouth. Jimin, aroused beyond belief, finds himself twisting a hand into Jungkook’s hair, eyes squeezing shut. Jungkook grazes his teeth over the sensitive skin teasingly, and Jimin’s cock dribbles precum, desperate for attention.


By the time Jungkook makes it to the band of Jimin’s underwear, he’s littered marks all over Jimin’s torso. There’s an especially large one just above his hip bone, the skin still glistening with Jungkook’s spit.


He’s back on his knees, hair falling into his eyes, lips pressing little kisses wherever he can. Jimin’s legs are still spread open, and Jungkook’s bringing his feet up until they’re propped up on the counter. It leaves him exposed, the thin fabric of his underwear hiding nothing. The mess of slick Jimin’s left on the counter is right at Jungkook’s eye level.


Jungkook’s breath ghosts over Jimin’s cock, hands pushing Jimin’s thighs wide apart. Jimin flushes, his cock and hole on display.


“You better keep these here for me,” Jungkook instructs, glancing up at Jimin just once.


“Yes, Alpha.”


“There’s a good boy,” Jungkook praises, pushing Jimin’s thong aside just enough to expose his hole. Jungkook blows right on it, watching Jimin shiver. His scent, already so thick in the air, only grows thicker.


Jimin barely has a chance to brace himself, Jungkook licking a fat strip right from his hole to his balls. He shivers, a hand coming to grip one of his thighs, to hold himself open. Jungkook’s nose drags down over his taint, mouth kissing over the skin agonizingly slow until his tongue is at Jimin’s entrance.


For a moment, he just laps at Jimin’s entrance, licking Jimin’s slick and it burns through Jimin, that Jungkook could want him so much. The flat of his tongue works over his hole and Jimin knows he’s just getting wetter and wetter, arousal like a fire under his skin.


Jungkook kisses his hole open-mouthed and moans into it, showing his hole the same enthusiasm he’s shown every inch of Jimin’s body. His long, languid licks turn urgent, tongue rubbing insistently against Jimin’s rim. It makes him whimper, heart in his throat, heat blooming in his cheeks. With every kiss and lick, the wet sound of Jimin’s slick makes it back to his ears and leaves him flushed.


Jimin burns through with embarrassment, desire eating away at his inhibitions.


“Jungkook,” he breathes, hears the pleading in his voice with a twinge of shame, but he’s aching to be filled. Jungkook’s taking too much time, going too slow. Jimin’s filled with an immediacy, he wants to be fucked, not teased.


“Is my baby impatient?’ Jungkook murmurs, his words muffled into Jimin’s ass. Jungkook’s fingers are digging into Jimin’s thighs, pushing them back, nose dragging up along Jimin’s taint. He presses a kiss to the sensitive skin and Jimin shivers, eyes half lidded as they take him in.


“Want more,” Jimin pouts, sounding as whiny as he can in hopes that Jungkook will give him what he wants, that he’ll give in. He lets his head fall back against the cabinet behind him, throat on display. “Thought you said you wanted dessert, Alpha.”


That earns him a growl, Jungkook’s fingers digging into Jimin’s thighs so hard he knows the skin’s bruised. Jimin’s breath hitches, Jungkook’s scent slamming into him like a wall, thick with arousal. He thinks he’s drooling, a fresh wave of slick pouring out of him.


He lets a hand drag down his throat, fingers just making it to one of his nipples before Jungkook’s diving back in, tongue soft and flat as it licks against his hole and over his perineum. Jungkook sucks and licks and kisses against Jimin’s entrance, slurping at Jimin’s slick and Jimin’s cock aches, his hole clenching and unclenching in anticipation.


Arousal burns through him, Jungkook’s warm amber scent like a drug, leaving his mind hazy. He gets what he wants soon enough, Jungkook’s tongue piercing Jimin’s hole with a speed that leaves him breathless.


Ah!” Jimin gasps, body jerking upwards.


He doesn’t get time to adjust to the feeling, Jungkook’s tongue hot and flexible inside him. Jungkook fucks into him with measured strokes, slick and spit dribbling down the cleft of Jimin’s ass with every thrust in. His nose digs into Jimin’s thigh, mouth working over Jimin’s hole, the wet heat of it mind numbingly good.


Jungkook pushes in deeper, hands smoothing around Jimin’s thighs to push them apart further and hold him open. Jimin finds himself panting, chest visibly heaving as he tries to keep up, the strain in his legs there but ignorable. 


“Alpha,” Jimin moans, foot slipping from the counter. It dangles in the air, Jimin’s toes curling with pleasure. Jungkook lets out a growl, the sound vibrating through Jimin with a gasp even as Jungkook’s grabbing Jimin’s leg and pushing it right back to where he wants it. Jimin jolts, a stuttering apology leaving his lips but Jungkook pays it no heed.


He’s pushing his thumb in alongside his tongue, stretching Jimin’s hole and Jimin whines, wanting more. He’s finding it harder and harder to breathe, to think. His underwear is soaked through, precum and slick wetting the material until it all but sticks to his skin. Jimin wants desperately to touch himself, to give his cock some relief but he doesn’t dare.


Jungkook’s lapping at his hole greedily, his thumb stretching Jimin’s hole open, humming pleasantly like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than eating Jimin’s ass out. 


“Taste so good baby, so wet just for your Alpha,” Jungkook tells him.


Jimin doesn’t even have the coherency to vocalize his agreement, head nodding feverishly. 


Jungkook gives him a grin, satisfied and a little condescending, and it goes right to Jimin’s cock. He whines in embarrassment, voice cracking when Jungkook fucks his tongue right back into Jimin’s greedy hole, hands gripping Jimin’s thighs again.


The more Jungkook digs in, the hotter Jimin’s body seems to burn, pleasure singing under his skin relentlessly. He’s insistent, tongue working in and out, pushing in as far as he can get it. Jimin’s beginning to tremble, mouth hanging open, lilting moans escaping him with every thrust.


“Please,” Jimin hears himself saying, eyes wet. He’s got both his hands holding his legs open, the strain burning hot through his muscles. “Please, Alpha. Wanna — wanna come.”


Jungkook takes it as a challenge, grips Jimin around the thighs and buries his face right into Jimin’s ass. Jimin gasps, grinding into Jungkook’s mouth, cock twitching with every little jerk. He’s not entirely on the counter anymore, ass digging right into the counter’s edge. Jungkook’s tongue is stretching deep into him, his fingers pushing in next to it and just grazing that sweet spot. Jimin lets out a near shriek at the feeling, body bowing forward, the pleasure like an electric shock running through him.


He doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to hold himself open. Tears cling to his lashes, the cabinet digging into the back of his head when he falls back. The need to come aches through him until Jimin thinks he can feel it all the way to the tips of his fingers. His cock burns, slick dribbling out of him.


Jungkook works his fingers in deeper, tongue still thrusting in and out and Jimin’s losing what little coherency he had, his grip on thighs beginning to grip. It’s too much and yet not enough. He’s so close, so close, belly tightening, cock aching, and then Jungkook’s crooking his fingers in just right next to his tongue. He knows exactly where he wants to go, the digit curling into Jimin’s prostate and Jimin’s sobbing, entire body jolting.


His hold on his thighs slips completely, legs falling over Jungkook’s shoulders.


“Sor — oh!” Jimin’s apology is cut off, Jungkook’s fingers massaging Jimin’s prostrate in a relentless pursuit. Jimin’s practically curled over Jungkook, the burn of arousal coiling so tight, his belly is clenching.


Jimin’s definitely drooling now, can feel it dribble down his chin even as he pants and begs. “Please please please! Jung — Alpha! Wanna — wanna — ”


Jungkook somehow tugs him even closer and Jimin scrambles to take hold of the counter, head meeting the cabinet. Jungkook angles himself so his nose digs right into Jimin’s taint, tongue still working in and out of him, his fingers rubbing insistently over Jimin’s sweet spot.


Jimin’s back arches, a hand fisting into Jungkook’s hair. He feels that intense burn rip through him, pleasure drowning out everything. 




Cum splatters over his chest, droplets hitting his chin, and Jimin’s gasping, his orgasm pulsing through him. To his greater surprise, he’s squirting right in Jungkook’s face. Slick gushes out of him, the wet sound of it hitting the kitchen tile rendering Jimin speechless.


Jimin’s got cum dribbling down his cock, his thighs tight around Jungkook’s head. 


He blinks, body slumping down. Jimin’s breathing is irregular, heartbeat loud and fast in his ears. Jungkook’s pulled away, his hole suddenly empty and Jimin clenches around the nothingness immediately.


He’s whining before he knows it, the handful of Jungkook’s hair he’d grasped through his orgasm slipping through his hold. Jungkook sits back on his haunches, and there’s slick all over his mouth, dripping down his chin. Even his neck’s glistening and Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, his cock giving a pathetic little twitch at the sight.


“Unh uh, eyes on me, baby,” Jungkook instructs with a cluck of his tongue and a soft smack against his leg. 


Jimin obeys instantly, breath hitching when Jungkook licks his lips, the gesture obscene. He’s covered in Jimin’s slick. Jimin had squirted right into his mouth.


“I’m — I’m,” Jimin starts, the high of his orgasm still singing through him. He’s made a mess of everything and he doesn’t even have it in him to care. He ate in this kitchen with his family.


“Are you going to come that hard on my cock, too, hyung?” Jungkook grins, rising up. Jimin can see the slick on his shirt. “You made such a big mess, baby.”


Jimin uses what little energy he has left to pull himself up, sit up properly. His legs are still burning, back twinging from the weird angle on the counter.


He’s only ever made himself come this hard a few times; Jimin rarely has the time to masturbate long enough to get himself this wound up. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s squirted.


“I’m sorry,” Jimin winces, a little horrified with himself. He feels self conscious, wishing he’d warned Jungkook but Jungkook tsks, his grin morphing into a frown.


“What’re you apologizing for, hyung? I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”


“But your clothes…” Jimin trails, all too aware of the slick he’s sitting in now.


“Clothes can be washed,” Jungkook smiles, hands squeezing Jimin’s thighs. He leans down, mouth hovering just above Jimin’s spent cock. “And besides, you’re going to help me clean up, aren’t you pretty baby?”


Jimin’s nodding without understanding what Jungkook means. Of course he’d —


Jungkook smirks, mouth wrapping just over the head of Jimin’s cock and sucking. He hisses, over sensitive, hands flying to Jungkook’s shoulders, ready to push. But Jungkook’s touch is short lived, his tongue licking up a stretch of skin until Jungkook’s at the first stripe of cum on Jimin’s torso. He licks it, and moves up, finding the next stripe and licks that, too.


He moves upwards, hands on Jimin’s back, mouth cleaning Jimin’s abdomen of cum. Jungkook’s cheeks begin to bulge and Jimin’s eyes widen, the realization that Jungkook isn’t swallowing anything sinking into him.


Jungkook swirls his tongue around one of Jimin’s nipples, licking his way all the way up until he’s even gotten the drops that had splattered against Jimin’s chin. When he’s level with Jimin’s face, he grips Jimin’s face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until Jimin understands.


Jimin opens his mouth readily, and Jungkook closes the gap, pouring every drop of cum and slick from his mouth into Jimin’s.


Jungkook barely gives him a chance to swallow, lips meeting Jimin’s, tongues sliding against each other. Jimin whines, feels some of the cum dribble down his chin, the need to please swelling up inside of him. They push the cum and slick and spit back and forth between their mouths, tongues caught in the mix. Slowly but surely, they swallow down the mixture, and Jimin breaks away first, lungs burning for air.


“Such a good boy,” Jungkook murmurs, giving Jimin just a moment’s pause to catch his breath. He kisses Jimin filthily, too wet, spit dripping down Jimin’s chin. A hand wraps around Jimin’s neck and Jungkook squeezes just lightly but it makes Jimin shiver, mouth parting. He’s moaning, legs wrapping around Jungkook’s hips in an attempt to be even closer.


Jimin’s hands wander, hungry to feel out the planes of Jungkook’s body. When he rubs his hands down Jungkook’s abs, he can’t help but go lower, palming over Jungkook’s hard cock. 


“Alpha,” Jimin breathes out between kisses, fingers fumbling in their attempt to unbutton Jungkook’s pants.


Jungkook’s laughing against his mouth, his scent sweet and warm. “What’re you looking for, Jiminie?”


“You — you know what,” Jimin whines back, breaking the kiss entirely to look down at Jungkook’s pants. He finally gets them undone, mouth watering as he pushes his hand down Jungkook’s underwear.


Jungkook gasps sharply, grabbing Jimin’s wrist to hold him still but Jimin’s heart is hammering in his chest, impatience and curiosity eating away at him. Jungkook’s cock sears into his hand, already wet with precum and Jimin’s breath stops in his chest when he feels it.


Jungkook’s cock is pierced.


Jimin feels the metal bar just under the head of Jungkook’s cock, heated by Jungkook’s skin. He’s so shocked, he doesn’t catch Jungkook’s little snicker until he’s sliding a finger under Jimin’s chin to close his open mouth.


Jimin swallows, eyes meeting Jungkook’s.


“Do you like it?” Jungkook murmurs, leaning in to nuzzle into Jimin’s cheek.


“Exactly how many surprises are you going to give me tonight?”


“Just enough to keep you interested,” Jungkook grins, his hand wrapping around Jimin’s, head resting on Jimin’s shoulder. It covers Jimin’s hand entirely, Jimin’s heart skipping a beat at the sight. Jungkook drags Jimin’s hand down, deliberately slow, and Jimin’s chest constricts.


There’s more than one piercing.


Jimin thinks he counts seven in total and his breath’s caught in his throat, the realization that his hand doesn’t even wrap all the way around Jungkook’s girth sinking into him. He doesn’t know how to keep up with Jungkook.


“You — you gonna let me suck you off, Alpha?” Jimin hears himself saying, still mesmerized by Jungkook’s cock. He’s made it all the way to the base, skin tingling from the sheer size of it. 


“Is that what you want, baby?” Jungkook asks, his head lifting. His pupils are blown wide, scent thick like molasses. Jimin can taste the sweetness of it wash over his tongue, his body reacting to Jungkook’s heady arousal like the strings of a harp, plucked taut, ready to sing. 


“Want you,” Jimin says, eyes falling to Jungkook’s mouth. He leans forward unconsciously, drawn to Jungkook’s sweetness. “Wanna be good for you.”


“But you have me, hyung,” Jungkook replies, a little sigh escaping him when Jimin’s hand works its way back up to the head of Jungkook’s cock. He rubs against it, fingers grazing over the metal just under it, touch insistent as he gathers up precum. “And you’re already so good for me. Such a perfect little omega.”


“I am?” Jimin blushes, so close to Jungkook now that they’re breathing in the same air.


“Mmm, yeah,” Jungkook hums, his breath catching when Jimin’s wet hand drags down over his length, a touch quicker. “So good for your Alpha, baby.”


Jimin whines, low and overwhelmed, the distance closed between them. He kisses Jungkook languidly, their tongues sliding against each other. Jimin never stills his hand, jerking Jungkook off even as his mind fills with images of how it would feel in his mouth, in his ass. He wants Jungkook inside him.


“Alpha,” Jimin begs, attempting to slide off the counter so he can get on his knees.


Jungkook stops him, hands finding Jimin’s hips and holding him in place. He kisses Jimin obscenely, rough and desperate, like he hasn’t tasted all of Jimin already, like he doesn’t know the shape of Jimin’s mouth yet.


“Alpha,” Jimin tries again, Jungkook pushing him back, his head hitting the cabinets. Jimin’s hand slips from Jungkook’s cock, out of reach, but he switches tactics. He starts on Jungkook’s buttons, teeth sinking into Jungkook’s bottom lip, tongue soothing over the bite.


“Shh,” Jungkook quiets, kissing Jimin harder, hand fisting into Jimin’s hair. “I’m right here baby.”


“Need you, want you — want you to fuck me. Please.”


“Thought — thought you wanted to suck me off.” Jungkook sounds just as wound up as Jimin feels, that burn of arousal simmering under Jimin’s skin once more. His cock’s half hard, ass and thighs already so wet that Jimin’s not sure how much of it is new slick.


Jungkook’s hand palms over Jimin’s cock, fingers dipping lower until they’re at Jimin’s hole. He pushes against Jimin’s entrance, his rim giving away easily, eager to have something inside. 


“Which hole should I fill up, Jiminie? Your greedy little mouth or,” he pauses, the tips of his fingers pushing just slightly into Jimin’s hole, “this one?”


He punctuates his words by pushing two fingers right in, and Jimin jolts, legs spreading open wider, welcoming Jungkook in closer. Jungkook knows just how to pluck him.


Jimin’s cheeks flush hotly, mouth hung open in a silent gasp. “You can fuck me in whatever hole you want, Alpha.”


“Yeah?” Jungkook’s arching a brow at him, amused. “You don’t have a preference?”


“Just — Just want you inside m-me.”


He’s gotten Jungkook’s shirt completely unbuttoned. His muscled chest is on display and Jimin pushes the fabric away hastily, eager to touch Jungkook’s naked skin. His heart’s beating too quickly in his chest, the dips and rivets of Jungkook’s torso only driving him closer to the edge of losing his mind.


Jimin swallows.


How could one man be so fucking hot?


“Said you were gonna fuck me, Alpha,” Jimin babbles, unashamed of his desperation, hands stroking over Jungkook’s pecs. “Said — said you wanted me to present for you. I’ll be so good, Alpha. Please, want you to — ”


“Don’t have a condom,” Jungkook says, blinking, like he’s just realised it himself. 


Jimin flushes red hot. He’s about to say something else but Jimin beats him to it.


“It’s okay.” He can’t meet Jungkook’s gaze as he says it. “You don’t have to wear one. Want you to c-cum inside.”


Shit, hyung,” Jungkook groans, eyes squeezing shut. “You can’t just — ”


“Can’t what?”


Jungkook’s eyes slip open, startlingly clear and the hunger Jimin sees there makes him squirm, toes curling. “You can’t say shit like that.”


“Why not?” Jimin asks, voice barely coming out. 


Because one of us has to be responsible.” Jungkook looks pained that he’s trying to be sensible right now, like he can’t imagine anything better than fucking Jimin raw.


“I’ve been responsible for six years, Jungkook,” Jimin says, licking his lips. “Can’t I be a little reckless just this once?”


“Jimin,” Jungkook starts, struggling to stay firm. His arousal is so thick in the air, Jimin knows he just needs a little nudge.


“I haven’t been with anyone,” Jimin tells him, leaning in to press light kisses up Jungkook’s chest. “Not since Sua’s — ”


Jungkook growls at the very mention of Sua’s biological dad and Jimin whines, belly twisting and heart fluttering in his chest. He nearly bares his neck.


“I need you, Alpha,” he says, hand dragging down Jungkook’s naked torso until he’s wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s cock again. “Been so long, Jungkookie. I waited — I waited just for you. Need you to knot me. Wanna — wanna hang off your cock, please Alpha.”


“Fucking hell, Jimin,” Jungkook groans, voice low, strained. Jimin wants to tip him right over the edge. 


“Wanna feel you so deep, Alpha,” Jimin pleads, dragging Jungkook’s free hand up along his belly to show him exactly what he means. He stops just above his belly button. “All the way here,” he says, pushing Jungkook’s hand down. “Wanna — wanna wake up with your cum dripping — ”


Jungkook’s resolve breaks, the alpha cursing under his breath as he surges forward and kisses Jimin within an inch of his life. The hand against Jimin’s stomach finds his throat and Jungkook squeezes, Jimin’s lungs burning, mind racing.


Where,” Jungkook growls, “did you learn to run your mouth like that? How’d you keep your legs closed for so long if you’re this desperate, huh, you greedy slut?”


Jimin whines loudly at that, humiliation licking through his body, hot with arousal. His hands scramble to find a grip, nails clawing into Jungkook’s back and slipping, a fine sheen of sweat covering him. His amber scent is so heavy on Jimin’s tongue, mind-numbingly sweet. Their tongues stroke against each other, Jimin’s chin wet with his own spit.


He moans into Jungkook’s mouth, Jungkook slipping two fingers into him and the stretch burns in the best way possible, Jimin’s cock twitching as new slick dribbles out of him. Jungkook’s fucking into him slow and deliberate, the loud squelch echoing in the kitchen and mixing in with the wet slide of their mouths against each other.


Jungkook breaks away first, mouth latching onto Jimin’s scent gland, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin aggressively and Jimin shivers, whining. He’s clutching Jungkook’s shoulders, chest heaving, skin on fire. He needs Jungkook to fuck him already.


“Never wanted,” Jimin starts, growing light headed, cock aching between his legs, neglected. “Never wanted anyone else. Just you, Alpha. No one else — no one else’s good enough.”


“Park Jimin,” Jungkook groans, grasping Jimin’s face in one hand. His fingers dig into Jimin’s cheeks, eyes ravenous as they take in Jimin’s expression. “What am I going to do with you?”


“Fuck me,” Jimin answers, the words muffled in Jungkook’s grasp.


Jungkook laughs, fingers slipping out of Jimin’s hole and he clenches around the emptiness, nearly sobbing. He finds Jungkook’s scent gland on instinct, sucking against it as hard as he can. His tongue laves over it, the skin beginning to bruise red.


Jungkook’s tugging his shirt right off, and Jimin watches it flutter to the floor. He never sees where it lands, Jungkook yanking his head back roughly, hand fisted in his hair.


Jimin gasps, straining to look at Jungkook.


The alpha looks feral, eyes alight with an almost animalistic desire. Jimin can feel the weight of it against his chest, his body going lax, ready to submit.


“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, and Jimin lets out a frustrated growl of his own, ready to tell Jungkook off.


“I need you to be sure,” Jungkook adds, suddenly sounding uncertain.


“Do you think I say all that shit to just anyone?” Jimin snaps, the hand in his hair slipping out. He leans forward, legs wrapping around Jungkook to pull him in until their cocks are flush together. “You’re — you’re clean right?”


Jungkook blinks. “Of course. I got tested — ”


“Then fuck me,” Jimin demands, cutting Jungkook right off.


It’s finally enough.


Jungkook doesn’t waste anymore time, teeth clattering against Jimin’s when he closes the gap between them. His hands dig under Jimin’s thighs and he hoists Jimin up, mouth still on Jimin’s. He swallows Jimin’s little gasp of surprise, his arms tightening around Jungkook’s neck, legs locking behind Jungkook’s waist.


One moment, Jimin’s sitting on the counter and the next, he’s being held up by Jungkook alone. Jimin’s eyes squeeze together, fresh slick spilling out of him and Jungkook’s smirking against his mouth, pulling back just enough to litter kisses along Jimin’s jaw.


“You like that, little omega?” he asks, one hand dragging up along Jimin’s thigh until it reaches his ass. 


And of course Jimin likes it. 


Jungkook’s picked him up like he’s nothing, his biceps flexing. Jimin’s heart is in his throat, cock throbbing between their torsos, one of his hands trailing down to squeeze Jungkook’s arm, heart stuttering in his chest.


Jungkook’s fingers dig between his cheeks, his hand groping Jimin’s ass. Jimin's skin tingles from the touch, his legs squeezing around Jungkook tighter, face burying into Jungkook’s neck.


“What’re you hiding your face for, hmm?” Jungkook teases, groping Jimin’s ass before giving him a sharp spank. “What about how badly you needed to hang off my cock, huh, hyung?”


“Ah!” Jimin yelps, flushing from the way his body jolts from the sting. He’s dribbling precum, ass burning, and Jungkook’s sliding his hand right back between his cheeks, rubbing Jimin’s cleft, fingers finally meeting their mark.


Jungkook’s fingers find Jimin’s hole, massaging over it, and he shivers, so desperate to be filled and fucked. He wiggles his ass back into the touch, but he doesn’t get anything more than a laugh, Jungkook’s voice rumbling through him.


“You’re not even gonna let me carry you to your room?”


“You should hurry up then!” Jimin huffs, pulling back just enough to meet Jungkook’s gaze.


“Oh, my baby needs it right now?” Jungkook murmurs, smirking devilishly. He doesn’t give Jimin a chance to reply, hitching him up in one go. He holds Jimin up just high enough to slip his cock between Jimin’s legs and then he slides him back down, their chests flush with one another. Jimin’s face burns, Jungkook’s length searing with heat between his thighs.


“Should I fuck you right here, too?” Jungkook asks, the words whispered right against the shell of Jimin’s ear. He squirms but finds himself nodding, attempting to roll his hips and feel Jungkook’s cock fuck him right between his thighs. “Stuff your slutty little hole full?”


Jimin whines, nuzzling into Jungkook’s neck. Warm amber invades his senses. “Yes yes yes, please. Need it Alpha.”


“What if you can’t take me, baby?” 


Jungkook drags his cock through the mess of slick between Jimin’s thighs, intentionally slow. Jimin’s keenly aware of how big Jungkook is, hasn’t forgotten how his hand couldn’t even wrap all the way around his cock. He doesn’t think he could ever forget.


“I c-can,” he insists, leveraging his weight onto Jungkook’s shoulders to lift himself up. “Fuck me on your big cock, Alpha.”


“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Jungkook smiles, his voice breathy from the exertion of holding back. He pushes Jimin’s panties to the side, his cock already hard and leaking, and lines himself up with Jimin’s entrance, cockhead rubbing against Jimin’s hole teasingly.


Jimin’s whole body trembles, a whine escaping him, eyes locking with Jungkook. He forces himself to relax, feels Jungkook dropping his weight slowly down, the blunt tip of Jungkook’s cock finally pushing against Jimin’s rim, breaching him.


“So pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, mouth finding Jimin’s. It’s barely a kiss, Jimin’s mind incapable of such focus, but Jungkook’s tongue licks against the roof of his mouth, their breath mingling together. He sinks down onto Jungkook’s cock so painfully slow, the tip piercing him open, slick and arousal masking the sting of being stretched open. Jungkook lets him drop slowly, just the tip pushing inside and Jimin’s mouth falls open, the heat of it already rendering him mindless.


When he feels the first piercing, Jimin groans, eyes half lidded, arms squeezing around Jungkook tighter. His breath is lodged in his chest, and he’s impatient for more, to feel Jungkook’s thick girth stretch him right open. He’s never wanted to be split open on a cock more.


“Alpha,” he breathes, feels himself sink inch by slow inch down on Jungkook’s cock. Each piercing drags against his walls, the little ridges adding to his pleasure. Jimin’s head falls to Jungkook’s shoulder, the size of Jungkook’s cock robbing the breath from his lungs.


He’s not even halfway in and already feels so big


“Alpha,” he repeats, eyes beginning to water. Jungkook’s cock continues to spear him open, his body forced to accommodate him, to make room.


“Shh,” Jungkook hushes, his hands gripping Jimin’s thighs in a vice-like grip. “You’re doing so good, baby. Made for me, aren’t you?”


Jimin only nods, struggling to take in a breath. He just feels so full .


“Feel so tight, baby,” Jungkook continues, letting Jimin sink faster. His cock’s only thicker the closer Jimin gets to the base, the burn painful, his size stretching Jimin like nothing has before. “Got so wet for me, didn’t you baby?”


“Just — just for you,” Jimin gasps, voice breaking into a long moan. “’S so big, Alpha. Can’t — ”


“Said you needed it,” Jungkook murmurs into his ear. “Aren’t you gonna be a good boy and take it then? Aren’t you gonna be good for your Alpha, little omega?”


Jimin feels the first tears trickle down his cheeks, head already nodding. “I’m good — I can — ngh — I can take it. I — I promise, Alpha. I’ll be — Ah! I’ll be so good!”


“That’s right, baby. Be a good little slut and take it.” Jungkook marks the words with a quick snap of his hips and buries the rest of his length into Jimin in one quick go.


Jimin’s lungs give out, Jungkook’s cock splitting him open. He’s in so fucking deep, and stretching him open so wide, Jimin can’t think.


He’s dribbling drool onto Jungkook’s shoulder.


When Jimin had said he wanted to feel Jungkook all the way in his belly, he hadn’t thought he really would. Jungkook’s bigger than anyone he’s taken before, and he’s so deep inside of Jimin, deeper than anyone’s been before, that he swears he can feel Jungkook all the way in his stomach. Just the thought has him moaning, his body trembling.


He can feel every piercing, the heat of Jungkook’s cock burning him inside out. His walls clench around Jungkook’s cock, body straining to accommodate his girth. 


“Fuck baby,” Jungkook breathes against his ear, fingers digging into Jimin’s thighs painfully hard. “You’re so fucking tight, shit. N-need you to relax for me, big breath.”


Jimin, eager to please, sucks in a shuddering breath and forces his shoulders to relax. His nails are digging into Jungkook’s back so hard, he’s pierced the skin. Jimin lets out a choked sob, delirious and so worked up. 


Pain throbs up his spine, but Jimin breathes through it. He can take it. He can take Jungkook. He wants to so badly.


“Such a good boy,” Jungkook soothes, nuzzling into Jimin’s neck, mouth finding Jimin’s scent gland. He licks over it, kissing the wet skin, his scent’s thick arousal simmering into something calming. Jimin’s mind only grows hazier, his eyes refusing to stay open. 


“Please,” Jimin says, his voice barely coming out.


Jungkook lifts Jimin up, his cock dragging out of Jimin slowly. He whines into the touch, feels the piercings drag along his walls and against his rim. Jungkook only pulls halfway out before letting Jimin drop back down, his cock spearing Jimin open, and Jimin moans, eyes fluttering open.


His moan stutters into a gasp, a trembling hand sliding down to his own stomach, eyes wide with realization.


Jungkook’s cock juts out against his stomach, the tip protruding against his belly and Jimin can’t look away. He curls his body away from Jungkook, watches as his cock’s outline only becomes more apparent. Jimin whines, low and long, his hand smoothing over the bulge, mesmerized.


“S-so big, Alpha,” Jimin hears himself say, watches as his hand falls flat against his belly, Jungkook pulling out. He fucks back into Jimin with a quick thrust of his hips, cock pushing right back into Jimin’s waiting hand.


“You like that baby?” Jungkook’s voice is rough, his scent surrounding Jimin. “Like seeing how big I am? How my fat cock fills you right up?” 


“Yeah,” Jimin sighs, nodding his head, tears prickling at his eyes. “Feel so full, Alpha. A-ah, so — so good.”


“Such a good omega,” Jungkook says, leaning in closer, mouth hovering over Jimin’s, “taking me so well. Look so fucking good on my cock, Jiminie. Made for it.”


“Made for you,” Jimin agrees, mouth sliding against Jungkook’s, their kiss messy and wet. “Like you so much, Alpha.”


“Like you so much, too, baby.” 


Jimin clenches around Jungkook at the words, tongue pushing into Jungkook’s waiting mouth.


Jungkook groans, sweat dripping from his jaw, his hair wet. Jimin can see the strain in his arms, in the furrow between his brows, how his jaw clenches. He jerks Jimin up, hands finding Jimin’s ass.


“Such a good boy,” Jungkook murmurs, “so wet and tight for me. Feel so good around my cock, my perfect little slut.”


“Alpha,” Jimin whines, burying his face into Jungkook’s neck, arms wrapping tight around him.


“Oh, does my baby feel shy?” Jungkook smirks, laughter colouring his words. His cock drags out of Jimin again. “Thought this is what you wanted, hmm?”


“Want it,” Jimin answers, voice muffled into Jungkook’s skin. “Want it so bad, Alpha. F-feels so good, s-so full. Please, Jungkookie.”


“So honest,” Jungkook praises, and then he thrusts into Jimin’s tight heat, jolting Jimin upwards. “So good,” he continues, beginning to fuck into Jimin, his thrusts picking up speed. Jimin keens, nails scraping along Jungkook’s skin, Jungkook’s cock pushing against his prostate through sheer size. “My pretty omega.”


Yours, Jimin wants to say but he can’t form the word, moans stuttering out of him as Jungkook all but bounces him on his cock. Arousal burns through him like liquid fire. It feels too good to be fucked on Jungkook’s cock.


Jimin clings to Jungkook harder, his chest heaving, mind slipping away from him.


All he can feel is the way Jungkook fucks into him, his hips snapping up, his hands digging into Jimin’s ass and thighs. He holds Jimin up like he’s nothing, like he could do this for hours and it only makes Jimin whine louder.


Jungkook’s so strong, and everything about him feels so big, makes Jimin feel smaller than he is. Jimin’s losing himself to Jungkook’s display of strength, to how his muscles feel so firm against his body. He can’t stop his little whimpers from escaping him. “Unh, unh, unh…”


His body doesn’t feel like it’s his anymore. It moulds around Jungkook, his cock fucking Jimin open, unravelling him. Jimin sings under his touch, every stroke playing out with Jimin’s lilting moans and the slap of Jungkook’s pelvis hitting Jimin’s thighs, body burning from the inside out.


“You like it baby? Like how I fuck you on my cock?” 


Jungkook’s words come out breathy, laboured, and Jimin pushes himself to look up, to find Jungkook’s eyes, his mouth. He nods his head, whimpering when Jungkook kisses him, more tongue than anything, and continues to fuck Jimin open, loose and sloppy.


The wet squelch of his cock burying into Jimin echoes through the room, filthy and obscene, and Jimin would be embarrassed if he could keep up. But his mind is a blur, untethered to anything but the feeling of Jungkook’s cock pounding him open. He wants to come, wants to feel Jungkook’s knot fuck him open even wider, wants to feel Jungkook’s cum all the way in his mouth.


“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Jungkook coos, sweet and condescending at once. His pace has slowed down, cock burying into Jimin in short, deep thrusts. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself. Does it feel that good, baby? That why your tight little hole keeps sucking me in?”


“Uh huh,” Jimin slurs out, eyes half lidded. He can’t believe Jungkook’s strong enough to just keep fucking him like this. It only makes arousal burn through Jimin stronger, knowing that Jungkook can, that Jungkook has. “Ngh, you’re — you’re so strong, Alpha.”


“You like that baby?” Jungkook whispers it right against his ear and Jimin shivers, whining. “Like getting fucked like this? Like being my cocksleeve? Like keeping my cock warm?”


Jimin’s breath shudders in his chest, eyes squeezing shut. “Yeah, like it — like how you f-fuck me, Alpha.”


“What a good boy,” Jungkook murmurs, “so sweet. Should have told me you wanted to hang off my cock this desperately sooner.”


Jimin flushes, the constant throb of Jungkook’s cock inside of him, the pressure and fullness beginning to teeter Jimin closer and closer to the edge. “Wanna — wanna come, Alpha.”


“Ask nicely, baby.”


“Jungkookie,” Jimin whines, almost petulant but Jungkook thrusts into him especially hard and Jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. He’s left gasping and Jungkook lets Jimin’s weight sink all the way down. 


Jungkook’s cock feels like it’s right in his belly. 


Jimin’s eyes blur with tears. “P-please Alpha, wanna come. Wanna come so — so bad. It h-hurts - hic — hurts, A-alpha.”


“What hurts, baby?” Jungkook asks, grinding into Jimin. “Your little cocklet?”


Alpha!” Jimin cries, heat flooding through him. His face burns but Jungkook’s laughing.


“You’re not very good at begging,” Jungkook informs him, teeth finding Jimin’s jaw and nipping at the skin. “But you’re so pretty so I’ll let you come.”


Jimin doesn’t get a chance to respond, Jungkook’s pace picking up with an almost inhumane speed. He fucks into Jimin sharp and fast, doesn’t give Jimin a moment’s rest and it’s like his brain is really being scrambled as he’s fucked on Jungkook’s cock. It’s like he’s nothing more than a hole for Jungkook to bury his cock into.


His cock’s trapped between their bodies and rubbing against Jungkook’s bare torso. Every time Jungkook fucks into him, his cock rubs up against Jimin’s prostate, his piercings dragging along Jimin’s walls. He can still see the outline of Jungkook’s cock on every thrust despite the tears clinging to his lashes. Jimin’s so close, his cock painfully hard, slick dribbling out of him. 


There are tears rolling down Jimin’s cheeks now, his moans broken apart until he’s incoherent. His body coils tighter and tighter, the pressure boiling to a single point. Jimin’s mind goes blank, the pleasure rushing through him all at once, sharper and sharper.


And then his back’s arching away from Jungkook, head tossing back, toes curling.


His orgasm rips through him, leaves Jimin senseless as cum splatters between their bodies. He’s heaving, nails digging into Jungkook hard enough to break skin. Jungkook fucks him right through it, bounces Jimin on his cock even as Jimin spills cum between them, Jungkook’s cock stroking over his sweet spot with deliberation. 


He seems to like the way Jimin’s voice comes out all garbled, unable to form any words. Pleasure ripples through him, a steady pulse that grows out from his cock.


“Look at you,” Jungkook breathes, awed and delighted.


Jimin’s body goes lax, falling forward until he’s draped over Jungkook and whining from oversensitivity. His cock twitches between them, the last splutters of cum dribbling down his length. His thong’s soaked.


“Fuck,” Jungkook grits out, shifting so that he has Jimin’s weight settled completely against him. Jimin’s body sings from his orgasm, but even through the haze he worries. Jungkook’s arms must be aching. Jimin whimpers, still too incoherent to express his distress but Jungkook catches on, hushing him. “I’m right here, hyung.”


Jimin tries to lift his head but he can’t. He’s tired and Jungkook still hasn’t come. 


“You okay, hyung?” Jungkook murmurs, hiking Jimin up just slightly. The movement causes his cock to drag through Jimin and Jimin lets out a pathetic little sob. 


“Sorry, baby,” Jungkook apologises and he begins to pull out of Jimin entirely.


“No!” Jimin lets out a panicked cry, clenching around Jungkook as hard as he can. Jungkook hisses, stilling entirely. His fingers dig into Jimin’s thighs and he lets out a breath. 


“Okay, okay. Got it, no pulling out.”


“You — You have to come,” Jimin insists, using every ounce of his energy. He’s nuzzling his face into Jungkook’s neck, spent but somehow still unsatisfied. “Need your cum, Alpha.”


“Fucking shit, hyung,” Jungkook groans, leaning his head into Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin holds onto Jungkook a little tighter. “You’re killing me.” 


His cock twitches inside of Jimin, the heat of it burning through Jimin. He can imagine the way Jungkook’s brows must be furrowed, can feel how hard it is for him to hold himself back.


“Baby, you’re tired,” Jungkook starts, attempting to reason with Jimin but he only clenches around Jungkook in response and earns himself another loud hiss. “Alright, okay. Didn’t know you were such a cumslut, hyung.”


“Just want — wanna be good for you, Alpha,” Jimin says, can hear how wrecked he sounds. His voice is raspy. “Want you to — to come, too. Wanna make you feel good.”


“Mmm, I’m sure you do.”


Jungkook sounds like he’s barely keeping himself from fucking Jimin stupid. He’s too thoughtful, waiting for Jimin to recover from his orgasm. Jimin thinks he wouldn’t have been opposed if Jungkook had just kept going, fucked Jimin right to oversensitivity and beyond like he was nothing but an onahole.


He’s not sure when Jungkook starts moving, still sort of out of it, but Jungkook carries him upstairs, the stairs creaking under their combined weight. Jimin’s lucidity comes back to him slowly, his eyes blinking through the remnants of his tears. Jungkook’s cock is still hard in his ass, and God, weren’t they trailing a mess through the house?


When they pass through the threshold of his room, Jungkook stills. Jimin hears the acute inhale, feels the way Jungkook tenses. His scent sharpens almost painfully and Jimin whines, tongue licking over Jungkook’s scent gland to calm him down.


He knows his own scent is strongest here. Jimin’s never bothered using a scent diffuser in his own room, but maybe after today he would. There’s no way Jungkook’s scent won’t permeate through everything.


Jungkook finally moves, taking Jimin right to the bed. 


They reach the bed’s edge and Jungkook eases Jimin down, one knee resting on the bed as he sinks them both down slowly. Jimin braces himself on the mattress, an arm reaching out to help slow down the descent.


His back hits the mattress and he sinks into the softness, sighing, Jungkook’s weight pinning him down. Jungkook lets out a groan, head resting in the dip between Jimin’s neck and shoulder, his cock still buried inside of Jimin.


Jimin’s hands reach out of their own accord, one smoothing down the curve of Jungkook’s back and the other threading through Jungkook’s soft hair. Jungkook nuzzles into him, a soft sigh escaping him. Jimin is almost disappointed when the moment is broken, when Jungkook pushes himself up and their eyes meet, his mouth hovering over Jimin’s.


“You keep surprising me,” Jungkook says, weight resting on his forearms. “It’s hard to keep up.”


“Good thing the feeling’s mutual,” Jimin murmurs, smiling as he closes the gap between their mouths. He kisses Jungkook, legs wrapping around Jungkook’s torso and pulling him in close. His cock, still hard, pushes deeper into Jimin and he gasps, a breathy little whine following.


Jungkook pushes his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, a hand finding Jimin’s waist. He grinds into Jimin, cock buried to the hilt inside of Jimin and Jimin mewls, back arching. 


“Is this where you touched yourself?” Jungkook asks, tongue licking over Jimin’s bottom lip. He’s pulled back just enough to look at Jimin’s face, his eyes dragging over Jimin’s features. He imagines he looks as wrecked as he feels, that Jungkook enjoys his debauched expression. “Where’d you put the calendar, hyung? You didn’t hang it up?”


“W-why would I hang — hang it up?” Jimin gasps, Jungkook’s hand finding one of his nipples and twisting it.


“Why not? Or did you make a mess all over it, hmm? Did you get your cum all over my face, baby?”


Jimin flushes red hot, clenching around Jungkook harder in his surprise. “N-no, I’m not — I wouldn’t — ”


Jungkook smirks, his eyes entirely too pleased. He pulls out slowly, hips snapping forward in one quick thrust. “What happened to my honest baby?”


Jimin’s too flustered, Jungkook’s cock so deep inside him he can’t think straight. It’s like Jungkook’s cock is right in his stomach, pushing up against his lungs. He sucks in a desperate breath, eyes slipping shut.


“Didn’t — didn’t wanna get it dirty, Alpha,” Jimin hears himself say, Jungkook’s cock dragging against his walls.


“How sweet,” Jungkook murmurs, that hint of condescension back. “You didn’t have a problem coming all over my face earlier.”


“You’re being mean,” Jimin whines, a tremble running through his body as he awaits Jungkook’s next thrust in. 


“You like it,” Jungkook says, completely unapologetic. “Isn’t that why your greedy little hole keeps swallowing up my cock? Can’t let me go, can you, baby? So desperate to get fucked, just want Alpha’s cum so bad.”


“So?” Jimin breathes, just barely managing to look at Jungkook. “Said you were my Alpha. Doesn’t,” he pauses to swallow, “doesn’t that mean it’s my cum?”


Jungkook’s jaw clenches, and he fucks into Jimin hard, just like Jimin anticipated. The force of it jostles Jimin up the bed and he cries out, nails digging into Jungkook’s shoulders again, mouth hung open. 


He’s panting, back bowed.


Jungkook’s ruthless now, fucking into Jimin fast and hard. He doesn’t give Jimin a chance to breathe, let alone think, pounding into him so roughly that Jimin’s left teary-eyed and mindless with arousal.


“You’re getting a little mouthy, hyung,” Jungkook grunts, sitting up fully, his hands gripping Jimin’s waist. He pushes his thighs under Jimin’s legs and drags him up, the angle allowing him to drive into Jimin with a new vigour. “Don’t you know sluts should keep their mouths shut?”


Jimin burns from the inside out, humiliation licking through him with a cruel intensity, hands fisting into his bed sheets as he gets fucked.


“Couldn’t even let me pull out and you wanna tell me how it’s your cum?” Jungkook’s grip on his hips only grows harder, lifting Jimin up until Jungkook’s on his knees and Jimin’s lifted half of the bed. “You think you deserve it?”


“I — ah!” Jimin tries but the words are garbled, Jimin’s body and mind too dazed and incoherent to string a sentence together. Arousal throbs through him with vengeance, Jungkook fucking into him almost brutally. It’s too much, the loud slap of Jungkook fucking into him mixing with the persistent squelch of Jimin’s slick.


“Look at you,” Jungkook sneers, voice rough and tight, “can’t even fucking talk. You like that baby? Like being fucked stupid?”


Jimin’s drooling, a moan leaving him as he nods in agreement, tears slipping down his cheeks. Jungkook’s cock keeps spearing him open, piercings dragging along his walls, cock pushing right up against his prostate until Jimin can only think about coming, about how good it feels.


He can imagine Jungkook’s cock pushing up against his stomach, the outline driving in and out of him. Does Jungkook like it? Does he like watching his length drive into Jimin and fuck him open so thoroughly?


Jimin’s own cock is still trapped in his flimsy thong, strained and painful against the fabric, precum oozing from the tip. He doesn’t know how he has any more cum left in him but he’s making a mess of himself, slick still dribbling down the cleft of his ass. His body is primed to be good for Jungkook.


“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook breathes, pistoning his hips into Jimin, cock driving into him over and over and over again. “Gonna fuck your little hole loose and sloppy ‘cause it belongs to me, doesn’t it baby?”


“Unh huh,” Jimin slurs out, crying and so close to coming it’s almost painful. “Y-yours. Only — n-ngh — yours.” 


His moans are broken apart by little hics and gasps, Jungkook pushing one of his legs up and draping it over his shoulder. He surges forward, bending Jimin in half, cock grinding into Jimin and through his haze he can feel it.


The way Jungkook’s cock is getting bigger.


Jimin sucks in a stuttering breath, keening when Jungkook’s mouth finds his scent gland. He sucks against it hard and Jimin’s hands fist into Jungkook’s hair. His knot’s growing bigger, cock snagging against Jimin’s rim as he continues to fuck into Jimin’s hole, thrusts getting a little sloppier, crude in their haste.


Jimin’s panting, his eyes too blurry to focus on anything.


“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, teeth sinking into Jimin’s neck. He bites hard enough that Jimin thinks he might break skin but then he’s soothing over the sting, tongue laving over the bite, hips grinding into Jimin’s tight heat as his knot swells bigger and bigger. He can’t pull out now, knot too big. “Take me so well, baby. Such a good omega, so good for your Alpha. Fuck fuck fuck.”


Jimin sings under the praise, mewling. The intensity of his arousal is too overwhelming, Jimin’s cock aching and painfully hard. Jungkook’s knot feels too big, and Jimin’s body too small to fit both his cock and knot in. He’s sobbing, Jungkook kissing his way from Jimin’s neck to his mouth.


“So good for me, baby,” Jungkook keeps saying, words muffled into Jimin’s mouth. “So pretty, such a good boy. Feel so good, so tight and wet, fuck baby. Love fucking you.”


Jungkook’s knot only grows bigger, pushing against Jimin’s prostate and that feeling from earlier in the kitchen prickles through him, sharp and intense, growing stronger and stronger with each passing second. Jungkook’s so fucking big, feels like he’s splitting Jimin open and yet somehow Jimin takes it, body molding to the shape of Jungkook’s cock, irrevocably changed.


Jimin doesn’t think anyone else would ever be as good.


Jungkook,” he moans, wet and pathetic, Jungkook’s big hand gripping his thigh to hold him down, to hold him in place. His knot’s finally stopped growing, so big inside of Jimin he goes still. There’s no escape, Jungkook’s hips grinding little circles into Jimin, his prostate abused past Jimin’s limit.


Jimin’s mind goes blank, breath caught in his lungs. 


His orgasm blindsides him, tearing through him with such an urgency that his eyes roll into the back of his head, tongue lolling from his mouth, head tossed back. His body convulses, and he’s squirting again, the burning pressure finally released. Jungkook’s cursing, slick and cum splattering all over them, Jimin’s back arching off the bed, toes curling.


Pleasure throbs through him, body pulled taut as the last dribbles of cum trickle out of his cock, ass clenching around Jungkook’s cock. Jungkook’s still grinding into him, cock and knot hard and hot inside of Jimin.


It’s all too much, Jimin’s vision blurring.


He thinks Jungkook’s saying something but Jimin can’t make out the words.


And then he feels it. Jungkook’s cum sloshing inside of him, hot and wet. His seed pours into Jimin relentlessly, wave after wave, Jimin’s belly beginning to swell from the sheer volume. Jimin gurgles, orgasm still pulsing through him as he’s pumped full of cum.


Suddenly, Jungkook’s voice is right by his ear. “You’re so good for me baby. Such a good boy — fuck — so perfect, so pretty.”


Jimin whines, high pitched and overwhelmed. His body’s gone limp, all the tension fucked right out of him. There’s cum oozing out of his abused hole, past Jungkook’s fat knot, his body fighting to keep it all inside. 


He can’t help but think how good Jungkook would breed him through his heat, how he’d fuck Jimin so relentlessly, how he’d pump him so full of his cum that it would be impossible for Jimin to be anything but pregnant.


Jungkook’s still murmuring praise in his ear as he litters kisses anywhere he can reach. Jimin sighs, eyes too heavy to keep open. His belly’s skin is stretched taut, almost painful, and the last thing Jimin sees before he passes out is the small, perfect swell of his belly.


Jimin wakes up on a hard chest, legs entangled with Jungkook’s. There’s still a cock inside of him.


He lies there for a moment, the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest a comfort he’s never been allowed before. He feels warm, Jungkook’s hand rubbing little circles into his back. He doesn’t want to move.


On the bedside table, Jimin can see the time. It’s nearly ten.


“Jungkookie,” he says, voice thick with his exhaustion, wincing when he tries to move. His ass is beyond sore, the adrenaline of sex worn off, but he feels good, sated.


And thoroughly filthy.


“You finally awake?” Jungkook’s voice is soft, a hand carding through Jimin’s hair. “I was a little worried there.”


“Were you? You think your dick is that good?” Jimin teases, giggling when Jungkook’s scent, a calm, comforting amber spikes up with his shock. The hand in his hair stills, and Jimin can’t help but push his luck. “Breaking news,” he continues, putting on his best news reporter voice, “Jeon Jungkook’s massive cock confirmed to be the murder weapon in Park Jimin’s death.”


“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaims, pinching Jimin’s ass in retaliation. Jimin’s too busy laughing, whining at the twinge of pain as he twists to look up at Jungkook’s expression. He’s scowling, or well. He’s trying very hard to scowl but one look at Jimin and he can’t hold it. Laughter colours the air, his smile stretching across his features.


Who’s being mean now, hmm?” Jungkook pouts, leaning down and kissing Jimin soundly on the mouth.


“I have to pay you back,” Jimin says matter-of-factly, pursing his lips. “How am I gonna walk tomorrow, huh?”


Jungkook has the decency to look sheepish but he doesn’t apologise, giving Jimin a little smug smirk, practically preening. “I wasn’t the one begging to be fucked you know. What did you say again? Wanna feel you so deep, Alpha.” He’s got his hand against Jimin’s belly, pushing down. “All the way — “


Jimin slaps a hand over his mouth, burning inside out with embarrassment.


“I was horny!”


Jungkook’s laughing against his hand, eyes crinkling together and Jimin can’t even be mad. Jungkook pulls his hand away, grinning triumphantly. “Oh, I see. Can’t hold what you say when you’re horny against you, hmm?”


“No!” Jimin huffs, too embarrassed to look Jungkook in the eye. He buries his face into Jungkook’s chest, flustered. “That’s my rule.”


“Got it, got it,” Jungkook murmurs, Jimin’s wrist still caught in his hand. He presses a feather light kiss to the inside of Jimin’s palm and holds Jimin’s hand to his face, nuzzling into it. “Was I too rough?”


“No, you were perfect.” Jimin shifts just slightly, stifling a moan when Jungkook’s cock moves inside him, and angles himself so he can look down at Jungkook. He’s rosy cheeked from their fucking, hair still wet with sweat but as handsome as ever. 


“You said you won’t be able to walk,” Jungkook mumbles, brows furrowing together. He looks worried so Jimin smiles reassuringly, stroking Jungkook’s cheek.


“I’m fine, I promise. Just a little sore, baby.”


That doesn’t seem to appease Jungkook. “I’ll be, uh, gentler next time.”


Jimin bites back a laugh, leaning down until he’s mere inches away from Jungkook’s lips. “Already thinking about next time, huh? And you said I was a slut.”


“I was just fulfilling a request,” Jungkook replies, eyes narrowing. He wraps both his arms around Jimin and squeezes him tight. Jimin lets out a little squeak of surprise, cum and slick trickling out of his ass. “Made by a very needy omega.”


“You signed up for this needy omega.”


Jungkook’s expression softens, a chaste kiss pressed to Jimin’s lips. “I did, it’s true.”


“Stop squeezing me like that,” Jimin whines, knows why Jungkook’s doing it. “You’re gonna ruin the bed!”


“I’m just getting all the cream out of my dessert,” Jungkook grins, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s. He drags one of his hands all the way down to Jimin’s ass, kneading the fat just to watch the way Jimin’s cheeks colour. He’s shameless enough to dig his fingers down the cleft of Jimin’s ass, pushing the thin little string of his thong aside, his fingers rubbing in the mess of cum and slick until he reaches Jimin’s abused hole. His touch is light against the rim, still stretched around Jungkook’s cock. 


A shiver runs up his spine.


“Does it hurt?” Jungkook asks, searching Jimin’s eyes for an answer.


“I mean, you’re huge, Jungkookie, and I haven’t slept with anyone in years,” Jimin answers truthfully, can sense Jungkook’s uncertainty. It seeps into the sweetness of his scent. “But just because I’m sore now, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. And it definitely doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy everything because I did. A lot .”


Jungkook’s staring at him, attention fixed as his eyes try to find some trace of a lie on Jimin. He’s serious when he speaks up again. “If it’s ever too much or if I hurt you, you promise to tell me?”


“I promise, baby,” Jimin murmurs, kissing Jungkook sweetly. He clears his throat, ignoring the way his cheeks burn. “Besides, no one’s fucked me that good. Ever.”


“No one, huh?”


“Don’t let it get to your head,” Jimin says, pinching Jungkook’s cheek. He grins, entirely too pleased with himself and Jimin can’t even be mad because Jungkook really is the best fuck he’s ever had. 


“I would never.”


“Uh huh,” Jimin intones. After a pause, he shamelessly adds. “What about me?”


“What about you?”




“You’re so fucking cute,” Jungkook laughs, both his hands coming up to cup Jimin’s face. He pulls him in for a kiss, savouring Jimin’s little sigh. “You’re so good, baby. So good for me. My perfect little omega, took me so well, made me feel so good. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. But, a head’s up on that mouth of yours would have been nice.”


“I’m repressed.”


“One round wasn’t enough?”


Jimin shakes his head. “No you gotta fuck me lots.”


“Jimin,” Jungkook groans, eyes closing shut. Jimin laughs when he feels Jungkook’s cock twitch inside of him, incapable of keeping the grin off his face. He can’t remember the last time he felt so giddy with happiness.


He surges forward to kiss Jungkook, tongue slipping into Jungkook’s mouth when he lets out a little gasp of surprise. He hopes he’s conveying just how thankful he is, how safe he feels with Jungkook. Jungkook’s arms wind around him, a hand finding the back of Jimin’s neck, cradling his head. Jimin’s not sure how long they lie there, kissing, but when Jungkook pulls back, he thinks it hasn’t been long enough.


“My knot’s gone down, you know.”


“I had no idea,” Jimin drawls with a roll of his eyes, a little out of breath. “It’s not like your cock’s inside me or anything.”


“That hard to forget?”


“How about I shove my arm up your ass and let me know how hard it is to forget.”


Jungkook’s laughing again, the sound rumbling through his chest and right through Jimin. “You’re so cute, baby.”


“All your real colours are coming out, Jeon Jungkookie,” Jimin grouses, jabbing a finger into Jungkook’s chest. His grip around Jimin’s abdomen has eased up.


“And what are my real colours, baby?” Jungkook’s voice is low and deep, eyes half lidded as they look up at Jimin. Jimin’s heart skips a beat.


Jimin sighs, defeated. “That you’re insufferably perfect.”


“You’re so easy, hyung.”


“I’m tired!” Jimin pouts, collapsing onto Jungkook’s chest. “And so gross. I forgot how messy sex is.”


“Guess we should get cleaned up,” Jungkook muses, the hand on Jimin’s ass giving it a little smack. “Up we go, Jiminie hyung.”


He pushes them both up and Jimin lets out a gasp of surprise, followed by a long whine as Jungkook’s cock jostles, pushing deeper into him. Somehow, Jungkook still has the strength to get them both out of bed and carries Jimin all the way to the bathroom, one hand on Jimin’s ass and the other gripping his thigh.


“Really pays to have a firefighter as a boyfriend,” Jimin comments, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulder.


“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”


“Oh, must have escaped my mind. He’s very strong and so hot.”


“I don’t know if I like him,” Jungkook grumbles, casting Jimin a miffed glare. “Hope you guys breakup.”


“Jungkook!” Jimin exclaims, perking up and giving Jungkook an appalled look. “How could you say that?” 


“What?” Jungkook says, utterly unrepentant. “How am I gonna date you if you already have a boyfriend?”


“Stop,” Jimin whines, blushing under Jungkook’s teasing expression. He’s stepped into the shower, finally, and hoists Jimin up, pulling out of him slowly, cum and slick dribbling down onto the shower floor.


Jimin hisses through the whole thing, eyes squeezing shut. He doesn’t want Jungkook to pull out but he can’t imagine it’s comfortable for Jungkook. Even now, Jimin can feel the piercings drag out him, the tip of Jungkook’s cock finally slipping out.


“I hate it,” Jimin grumbles, rubbing his face into Jungkook’s scent gland. It helps ease the discomfort, his ass clenching around the nothingness Jungkook’s left behind.


“Hate what, baby?”


Jimin doesn’t miss the note of concern. “Being empty.”


“But I filled you up with so much cum,” Jungkook says, low and sultry, right against Jimin’s ear. “Is that not enough?”


“It’s all gonna come out,” Jimin says petulantly and Jungkook laughs, the quiet rumbles rumbling through Jimin. 


“I had no idea you were so much trouble,” Jungkook sighs, hand winding into Jimin’s hair to tug him back. He forces Jimin to meet his gaze. “You like cum that much?”


“Maybe I like being creampied,” Jimin defends, ignoring the way his whole face feels hot. “Do you have a problem with that?”


Jungkook curses under his breath, eyes narrowing and scent sharp. “If you want to come the next time we fuck, you’d better watch what you say.”


There’s something about it, the way he stares Jimin down that has Jimin’s skin prickling hotly. Jimin swallows, refusing to admit that Jungkook’s turned him on even if Jungkook can definitely smell it on him.


“You really wouldn’t let me?” 


“Try me.”


“Oh, so scary, Alpha,” Jimin mewls, purposefully letting his gaze drop. It has the desired effect.


“Don’t be a brat,” Jungkook growls and Jimin stifles his laugh, nodding to show Jungkook he understands. 


“Aren’t you gonna put me down, Alpha?” Jimin makes sure to drag the word out, watching Jungkook’s expression carefully. His cheeks colour, pleased despite himself, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smile.


He lets Jimin slide to the ground, his feet touching the cold shower floor. Jimin grimaces but lets his weight fall against Jungkook, back aching. He waits patiently as Jungkook finally gets out of his pants, eyes falling to Jungkook’s dick. Jimin still can’t believe he has seven piercings.


Jungkook tosses the pants aside, his hands wandering back to Jimin’s hips and tugging him in close. He feels it more than sees it: Jungkook snaps Jimin’s thong right in half, the string breaking far too easily in Jungkook’s hands. 


“What if these were my favourite?”


“Thought you wore them for me,” Jungkook counters, breaking the string on the other side, too. They drop to the floor with a wet slap and Jimin lets out an embarrassed groan. “Besides, these are hardly salvageable. I’ll make sure to buy you some new favourites.”


“What if I don’t want to wear them?” Jimin asks, cocking an eyebrow up at Jungkook. He reaches past Jungkook for the shower faucet to turn the water on, toeing his underwear out of the way and yelps when the cold water splashes down on him, scowling.


Jungkook’s snickering, but he maneuvers them around so the cold spray only falls on him, offering Jimin a smile. “I’m not opposed to you wearing nothing.”


He lets out an embarrassed cry, flushing even as he does his best to glare at Jungkook. 


The water’s warmed up, rivulets cascading down Jungkook’s broad shoulders. Jimin watches water trickle down his chest and wonders how he’s going to survive Jeon Jungkook.


Jimin lets his head fall forward, the spray of the water soaking into his hair and travelling down his head and neck. It feels good, Jimin enjoying the heat and closeness of Jungkook’s body.


“So,” Jungkook whispers right against the shell of Jimin’s ear. His scent swarms around Jimin, lulling him into a sleepy state. “Boyfriend, huh?” 


Jimin freezes, heart in his throat and he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, remembering what he’d said minutes ago. It had slipped out and now, Jimin can feel the anxiety swarm in his belly, afraid that he’s being too pushy. 


“Is that okay?” His voice comes out too small.


“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, tilting Jimin’s head up. He kisses Jimin sweetly, a hand settled into the small of Jimin’s back. “I’d like that.”


The happiness bubbles up through Jimin so fast, he doesn’t know what to do with it, smile erupting across his features hard enough that he thinks he might cry. He buries his face into Jungkook’s neck, hugging him tightly.


Somehow they even manage to actually clean up, Jungkook refusing to let Jimin do anything. So Jimin obediently lets Jungkook wash his hair and get all of the cum and slick off his body. Jimin even behaves when Jungkook very gently works the cum out of him, fingers scraping out what they can.


It makes him a little upset, that deep seated biological need rearing its head. His heat’s months away and outside of it, the chances of him getting pregnant are slim to none, but Jimin hasn’t been fucked in years and he’s always liked getting fucked full of cum. He just shouldn’t have liked it so much during a heat.


Except he could never regret Sua.


Everything had turned out better than Jimin could have ever expected. 


He’s broken out of his thoughts when he sees the state of Jungkook’s back. There are angry red lines all over it, skin raised upwards, and indents of Jimin’s nails all over his shoulders.


“Jungkook!” Jimin gasps, reaching out and then stilling, hand hovering over Jungkook’s skin. “Your back!”


Jungkook glances back at him, his head under the shower’s spray, getting ready to soap himself up. He winces, and Jimin’s heart sinks. He feels so terribly bad and is about to apologise when Jungkook says, expression solemn, “It really hurts, baby. Think you should kiss it better.”


Jimin’s upset vanishes and he stares at Jungkook in disbelief. Jungkook’s expression cracks and he’s sniggering even as Jimin smacks him right against the marks he’s left on his back.


“You ass! I really thought — ”


“Baby, come on,” Jungkook says, attempting to mollify Jimin. He pulls Jimin right up against himself, their bodies flush together. “I can take a few claw marks.”


“They really don’t hurt?”


“Does this hurt?” Jungkook asks, pushing down on a mark he’s left on Jimin’s collarbone. Jimin’s littered with them, his skin a canvas of reds and purples.


Jimin shakes his head, and then reconsiders. “You should kiss it better.”


Jungkook’s laughter is bright and pretty, his mouth finding the mark and kissing it. “Good?”


“It hurts here, too.” Jimin points a finger to his lips and blinks up at Jungkook innocently.


Jungkook’s smile is coloured with amusement, his eyes indulgent. “My poor baby,” he murmurs, kissing Jimin.


It takes them a few more minutes to get out of the shower, the time slipping away from them as they get distracted kissing every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t let Jimin go, wrapping him up in his bathrobe and then carrying him all the way back to the bed.


“Don’t your arms hurt? Carrying me around everywhere.” Jungkook is laying him down on the clean side of the bed. His arms slip out from under Jimin’s back and legs and he stands, a towel wrapped around his hips, next to Jimin.


“I built all this muscle to carry you around.”


“Mmm, how thoughtful.”


“I try,” Jungkook grins, glancing around the room. “Do you have an extra blanket? We kinda, uh, ruined this one.”


There’s a huge mess on the other side of the bed and Jimin just hopes his slick hasn’t leaked through the duvet. “In the closet, I’ll get it.”


“Stay put.” Jungkook clucks his tongue, already heading for the closet. He slides the door open and sees the extra blanket on the top shelf, pulling it down. “Did you hide the calendar in here too, hyung?”


“Why would I tell you where I hid it?” Jimin sniffs, nearly turning away from Jungkook when he walks over with the clean blanket.


“I’ll find it,” Jungkook insists, tugging the dirty duvet out from under Jimin and to their relief the bed’s not a mess. Jungkook drapes the blanket over Jimin, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll clean up the kitchen before I head out, okay? You sleep.”


“What?” Jimin blinks furiously, his brain trying to wrap itself around Jungkook’s words. Panic swells in his chest, his hand shooting out to grip Jungkook’s wrist. “Why are you leaving?”


“Baby, your mom and Sua are probably going to be here any minute. We haven’t even told — ”


“They’re — They’re not coming home tonight,” Jimin blurts out, cutting Jungkook off. He ignores the flare of embarrassment that runs through him. He’s revealed too much.


Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to look confused but he’s quicker on the uptake, an eyebrow arching up before he’s smirking. The smugness simmers in his scent and Jimin wants to dive under his blanket.


“Oh, I see,” Jungkook says, eyes alight with delight. “You really planned for everything, huh? Wanted to get fucked that bad, Jiminie hyung? Be honest.”


“Shut up!” Jimin shrieks, twisting away from Jungkook. He’s cackling, already diving in next to Jimin to tug him back around. Jungkook pins Jimin down in two seconds, both of Jimin’s wrists held down by his hands. He towers over Jimin, hair still wet. 


“I was just trying to be prepared! In — In case…” Jimin trails off, unable to meet Jungkook’s eyes.


“Mmm, in case I fucked you.”




“What, I don’t get called Alpha now?”


“You suck!”


“That is part of my skill set. I’ll have to show you sometime.”


“Oh my god.” 


Jungkook laughs, swooping down to kiss both of Jimin’s cheeks and then his nose. He lies down next to him, wrapping Jimin up in his arms, and all of Jimin’s embarrassment melts away. “I guess I can take a nap before I clean the kitchen, then, since you had so much foresight.”


Jimin gives him a Look but can’t sustain it for long, relaxing against his strong chest. “I’ll help. It’s too much for just you.”


“You did leak slick pretty much everywhere,” Jungkook agrees, and Jimin splutters.


“You’re the one who ate me out on the counter — ”


“That’s a perfectly reasonable place to eat.”


“And it wasn’t everywhere. Just the counter,” Jimin grumbles, unearthing himself from Jungkook’s chest so he can glare at him properly.


“And the front hall. And the stairs.” Jungkook’s enjoying this way too much, his eyes twinkling.


“Here I am, offering to help, and you’re being rude.”


“I’m just pointing out all the places we’ll have to clean.”


Jimin sighs a little despondently, because he’s right. “We’re going to have to douse the place in bleach. I have a child.”


“That could be a fire hazard,” Jungkook says conversationally, and Jimin’s half-amused and half-endeared.


“Is that so, Mr. Firefighter?” 


“Sure is.” Jungkook cards his fingers through Jimin’s damp hair, and Jimin leans into it, feeling a little like a cat being pet. “Gotta keep my babies safe.” 


It takes a moment to register, but once it does, a flush spreads across Jimin’s cheek. His babies. Plural. Jungkook has been abundantly clear about his love for Sua, but still. Hearing it fills Jimin’s chest with warmth. 


Embarrassed by how sappy he feels, Jimin rests his head on Jungkook’s shoulder and mumbles, “We’re gonna have to put scent diffusers everywhere, too.” The whole house reeks of sex. Opening the windows won’t clear it out by morning. 


“If you think that’ll fool your mom, you better think again.”


Jimin groans at the thought of his mom’s smug smile when she comes home in the morning. She’s going to be positively gleeful. It had been half her idea to stay over at Tae’s, anyway. “I know.”


“Well,” Jungkook says after a moment. “She likes me. Right?”


“You know she loves you,” Jimin huffs. “Don’t pretend.”


“I know.” Jimin can hear the smug note in his voice, but when he looks up at his face, he can’t bring himself to be huffy about it. Jungkook looks so pleased, handsome grin stretched wide. “Parents everywhere just love you, huh?”


“They sure do,” Jungkook says cheerfully. 


Jimin yawns against his shoulder. It’s late, and he’s not used to staying up anymore, always too tired to make it too far past Sua’s bedtime. A childish part of him doesn’t want to go to sleep, wants to keep on talking to Jungkook, his belly still fluttering at every glance, like he’s a teenager with a crush. 


“Alright, it’s bedtime for my baby,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin finds himself whining, even kicking his feet a little. 


“I can stay up,” he mumbles through another yawn. “We can clean.”


“Nap first, and then we can clean.” Jungkook shuffles them so that Jimin’s lying securely on his chest, blanket tucked around both of them. 


Lying like this, Jimin feels soft and warm and content, and his eyes are drifting shut despite his best efforts. “Night, Alpha,” he murmurs, and feels the ghost of Jungkook’s lips against his cheek. 


“Night, baby.”



No matter how many times they’ve visited the aquarium, Sua always acts like it’s her first. 


She’s practically uncontrollable, zipping all over the place, from turtles to jellyfish to models of how trash ends up in the ocean. Jimin is almost afraid to blink in case he loses sight of her. At one point, when he spends no more than a minute looking inside his backpack to find a water bottle, she ends up in an entirely different exhibit. Luckily, Jungkook has sharp eyes and trails after her, bringing her back with a firm hand on her shoulder. 


She isn’t even the slightest bit repentant. “Did you know,” she’s blabbing on, “octopuses have three hearts and their blood is blue.”


She has told them the same fact from her brand new octopus book six times today already, but Jimin nods patiently once more, as if he’s learning it anew. Ever since Jungkook got his new tattoo, she’s been absolutely obsessed. She kept checking out octopus books at the school library until Jimin finally bought her one of her own, which she has since read every single day. Her favorite cartoon had an episode on ocean creatures last week, and she was nearly bouncing off the walls in excitement. Jungkook, taking the blame for the new obsession on himself, had promptly planned a trip to the aquarium. 


“If you run off one more time,” Jungkook says cheerfully, “I’m gonna eat all your gummy worms.”


The betrayed look Sua shoots at him would be comical if Jimin didn’t know Jungkook is entirely serious. He’d been eyeing the candy the whole time Jimin was checking them out at the aquarium gift shop. 


“If we don’t see octopuses in five minutes, I’m gonna run away again.”


Jungkook scoffs in disbelief, turning an exaggerated look of shock toward Jimin. “Did you hear that? You heard that, right?”


“It’s alright. Sua hasn’t learned to read time yet because she never does her math homework. Right, Sua?” Jimin squeezes her cheek teasingly, and she huffs, swatting his hand away. “And it’s octopi, sweetheart.”


“I do too do my math homework. I even got a star.”


“A whole star!” Jungkook exclaims, even gasping a little. Sua, unimpressed at his display, turns away to play with a display of soil deposits. He laughs, reaching out to ruffle her hair, and Jimin’s a little smug when she even swats his hand away. 


“Do you think this means that she’ll be very mature during her teenage years?” Jimin asks. “If she’s getting it out of her system now, you know?”


Jungkook snorts, winding his arm around Jimin’s waist as they follow Sua down the exhibit. Jimin leans into his side, sighing, enjoying the familiar warmth of his body against his. He thinks one of his favorite things about Jungkook has to be that he’s always touching him — hand on his waist, fingers threaded together, absently stroking his hair. He’s always there.


“I think you’re being a little optimistic, babe.”


Jimin groans a little theatrically, nearly draping himself over Jungkook as they pause for Sua to sign her name on a wall of sticky notes. “You’re supposed to indulge me, not be realistic.”


Jungkook pats his hand condescendingly. “Someone has to be realistic.”


“No, you’re supposed to be like uh-huh sweetie, you’re right about everything,” Jimin whines, and Jungkook chokes on a laugh. 


“I think I do that a fair bit, actually.”


“Oh yeah, when’s the last time you told me I was right about anything?”


“Yesterday when you insisted you had watered the petunias in the morning.”


“I did too water the petunias — ”


“The soil was dry, sweetheart.”


Jimin huffs, tugging away from him to sign a sticky note and plop it on the wall right next to Sua’s. She’s already moved on to the next wall. “You and your precious petunias.”


“I grow them every year! They’re the prettiest part of my garden.”


Jungkook sounds adorably defensive. Jimin can’t help but cast him a fond glance even as he prepares a pout to keep on being difficult. “Yeah, I think you love your petunias more than you love your omega.”


Sua has crouched down to look into a case full of oysters with another pair of kids, and it’s like she’s completely forgotten about them. They stop at a distance away so that she can enjoy her brief independence, and Jungkook winds his arms around Jimin’s waist from behind. 


“You know that’s not true.” Jungkook’s lips brush the shell of Jimin’s ear and he fights the shudder that threatens to run up his spine. “Whose back did I spend an hour massaging last night because he said he wasn’t gonna be able to walk in the morning?”


Jimin flushes crimson, shooting Jungkook a sideways glare. “Whose fault was it my back was hurting, huh?”


Jungkook flashes a grin, so handsome he takes Jimin’s breath away. Then he nips his lobe and pulls away, leaving him there feeling distinctly like he’s lost this round. Still blushing, Jimin takes a moment to gather himself before he follows. There’s a lady five feet over who is definitely giving them a Look. 


Jungkook’s looking at the aquarium map. “We need to find those damn octopuses. It’s definitely been more than five minutes.”


Jimin’s surprised into a laugh. “You can’t give in to everything she wants, you big sap. You’re already spoiling her.”


“What’s wrong with that?” Jungkook mutters, squinting at the map as he traces a path with his finger. “She deserves to be a little spoiled.”


A rush of fond warmth fills Jimin’s belly. He smiles, looping his arm through Jungkook’s and resting his head on his shoulder. Sua leaves the oyster tank at last and bounds up to join them, mouth already open to spout another octopus fact. 


“Did you know,” she starts, “octopuses don’t have any bones.”


“Aha!” Jungkook exclaims, jabbing a finger at the map. “The octopuses. I’ve found them.”


Jimin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s octopi, you guys.”


“Let’s go!” Jungkook grabs Sua with one hand and Jimin with the other, dragging them off down the hallway. 


Their destination is halfway across the aquarium, and Jimin’s honestly amazed that they manage to walk for five minutes before they get distracted and take a detour. It’s understandable, given that they pass a room designed entirely for kids to play in and Sua’s eyes go wide as saucers. 


“Don’t worry,” Jungkook assures her as he pushes her toward the play area. “The octopuses aren’t going anywhere.”


She seems to believe him because in another moment she’s running happily through the exhibit with the other kids, turning wheels and playing with sand. Jimin and Jungkook wander off to the side where the other parents are passing the time, mostly on their phones. 


“You know,” Jungkook says conversationally. “Octopi just sounds wrong.”

“And octopuses doesn’t? You’re one vowel away from octopussies.”


Jungkook laughs so loud and sudden he chokes, attracting a few looks from the parents standing nearby. Jimin pats his back, feeling a little smug that he’d gotten him to laugh so hard. 


“You’re too much,” Jungkook mutters, whipping out his own phone and growing promptly immersed. Jimin scoots up to him, pouting a little, and is about to demand that he pay attention to him when Jungkook suddenly whoops with glee. Jimin jumps, startled. “I’m right. It’s octopuses.”


Jimin snatches the phone out of his hands. “You’re lying.”


But sure enough, it’s written and explained right on the webpage. It’s octopuses. Jimin shoves Jungkook’s phone back at him and marches off to a nearby fish tank with a huff. He can hear Jungkook’s laughter trailing behind him. 


“Alright, I’m sorry, I didn’t read anything. It’s octopi. Octopuses who?”


“You suck,” Jimin grouches, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares pointedly at the fish tank. 


Jungkook winds his arms around his waist from behind. “I’m the worst, I know. Can’t believe you’re dating me.”


“Me neither,” Jimin sniffs. He takes a second to glance over at the play area, where Sua is helping a little girl build something in the sand. Satisfied that she’s fine, he goes back to pouting. 


“Come on, baby, don’t be mad. Look at the pretty fish.” He points at the tank, where a large, multicolored fish is floating slowly through the water. 


Jimin isn’t one to miss an opportunity, so he twists out of Jungkook’s arms and strikes a pose right in front of the tank. “But I’m prettier, right?”


Jungkook grins, his eyes twinkling, and holds his arms out. Jimin sinks back into them. “Of course. The prettiest.”


Jungkook kisses his cheek and Jimin preens, absolutely shameless. They wait by the pretty fish until Sua’s finally done, bounding up to them and demanding that they move on to the octopuses. She takes their hands, one each, and tugs them along. Jimin’s almost relieved when they arrive at the octopus exhibit at last, and he’ll admit that he’s excited, too. Sua’s enthusiasm these past few weeks has inevitably rubbed off on him. 


“Look!” Sua cries, tugging excitedly at their hands. “It’s an octopus!”


Luckily, the family that’s standing in front of the first tank has just begun to move on, so Sua can run right up to it. The tank sits higher up than some of the others, and she’s having a hard time even on her tippy toes. Jungkook scoops her up and positions them right in front of the octopus, who is sleepily shifting its tentacles along the ground. Jimin joins them, admiring the pretty colors and the smooth way it moves. 


Sua’s practically vibrating with excitement. She grabs Jungkook’s arm, the one that isn’t carrying her, and yanks his sleeve up, revealing the octopus tattoo he has been keeping carefully covered up since he got it. The dark tentacles snake along his forearm. 


“Look, Daddy!” she exclaims, holding his arm up against the glass. “It’s just like yours!”


It takes a moment to register. When it does, tears spring to Jimin’s eyes, his face flushing hot. He has to take a step back but Jungkook’s meeting his eyes over his shoulder, and they’re wide with emotion. For a moment, Jungkook seems struck into silence, holding Jimin’s gaze, before he finally forces his attention back to Sua. 


“Yeah, baby. It’s just like mine.”


Jimin tries very hard not to, but in the end, he can’t stop the tears. He wipes them roughly on his sleeve, sees Jungkook cast him a look before pointedly ignoring him so that he can keep Sua distracted. He had hoped it would happen one day, but he hadn’t pushed it, hadn’t wanted to pressure her. He’d thought about raising the option, offering, so that she would know it was okay to call Jungkook her dad if she ever decided she wanted that. But it seems like she’s figured it out all on her own. 


Jimin had been 19 and scared and crying at his father’s feet, and even though Sua’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he could never have dreamed it would turn out like this. 


“Mommy!” Sua exclaims, turning to look for him, her brow furrowed. When she spots him, she relaxes, reaching out. Jungkook holds her more securely, keeping her from falling as she leans out. 


Jimin swallows harshly, gathering himself, and steps back to join them. 


“Look, Mommy, isn’t it so pretty?”


“It’s beautiful, sweetie.” Jimin’s voice hasn’t quite settled yet, a little rough, and Jungkook glances at him, his gaze soft. His free hand brushes Jimin’s, and Jimin threads their fingers together gratefully. 


“Can we come back tomorrow?” Sua asks cheerfully, entirely unaware of what she’s done to her parents. 


Jungkook lets out a watery laugh, squeezing Jimin’s hand, and Jimin finds himself grinning. “You’re going to be the octopus’s biggest fan, huh?”


“Number one!” she cries, and they laugh. 


Jimin can’t get the stupid smile off his face. He made it. They made it. He leans against Jungkook’s side, smiling at his daughter, and thinks there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be.