Taehyung suspects something is off the moment he opens the door to Hoseok’s apartment. Nevertheless, he steels his nerves and makes his way inside. Goosebumps bloom on his flesh, a cold chill running down his spine the closer he gets to Hoseok’s room.
“Hyung?” Taehyung calls out, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “You weren’t answering your calls and your front door was open so I was worried and just let myself in.” He exhales shakily, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m coming in now, okay hyung?”
There’s a small grumble of protest that reverberates across the room. Taehyung swallows the lump in his throat, slowly pushing the door closed behind him. He looks over at the small heap on the bed. It’s rising up and down, small staccato pants accompanying the irregular motion.
“Taehyung-ah?” Hoseok’s voice is soft, barely audible. “What are you doing here? I told you I’m sick—”
Taehyung notices the soft red flush of Hoseok’s cheeks, the way his brow is beaded with sweat. The way he huddles under his blanket, clutching onto its edges so hard that his knuckles turn white. The thick scent of sweet saturated vanilla that floods the room. Suddenly, everything makes sense. The pieces drift towards each other and lock into place.
Hoseok is in heat.
It’s odd because Hoseok has been a beta for longer than Taehyung can remember. But then again, he’s heard of betas presenting late. It’s not common, for sure, but it’s not that rare either. And it makes sense that Hoseok would be an omega. He’s always smelled a little too sweet to not be an omega, Taehyung supposes.
A small whimper brings Taehyung out of his thoughts. His chest squeezes in pain as he takes in the way Hoseok’s face scrunches up in pain. He curls to his side, gathering the sheets as close as he physically can, attempting to regulate his breathing as he waits for the heat induced tremors to pass.
“Oh hyung,” Taehyung whispers, immediately making a beeline towards the bed. He climbs into the bed, grunting when the mattress gives way under his weight, before he shimmies over to Hoseok’s side. Taehyung’s eyes bulge out in surprise when his fingers graze against Hoseok’s skin and gauge just how hot he is— the heat seems to have settled in full throttle.
“Tae?” Hoseok croaks out. He’s blinking drowsily, trying his utmost best to remain coherent. “Why are you here? Oh my God—” Hoseok groans, wincing as another tremor wrecks through his frame. Taehyung gathers him close, startling when Hoseok starts pushing against his chest. “Tae please, I’m serious! I think I have Covid so please just go—”
“Hyung, you do not have Covid.” Taehyung tries to sound strict, but his lips twitch with the effort it takes to prevent himself from bursting into a smile. “You’re not sick. At least, not exactly.” Taehyung smiles, reaching out and cupping Hoseok’s face, chest squeezing when Hoseok leans into his palm, smooshing his cheek most adorably. “You can’t smell yourself?”
Hoseok squints in annoyance, nostrils flaring indignantly. “No, I can’t,” he says, rather matter of factly. His lips curl all the way down in a triangular pout and Taehyung has to hold himself back so that he doesn’t close the gap between them and kiss Hoseok silly. Hoseok sighs in exasperation. “It’s precisely because I can’t smell myself that I know I have Covid, silly. It’s one of the main symptoms, don’t you know?”
Now, Taehyung really does laugh out loud at that. Hoseok glares in annoyance, cheeks puffed out, blush now spreading all the way to his ears. He looks positively indignant.
“You’re teasing me!” He whines, shaking his head petulantly. “Why are you laughing at me—?”
“Hyung, you’re in heat,” Taehyun says softly, trailing his hand down Hoseok’s face to his chin, to his neck, mapping a trail down to his scent gland. Hoseok’s breath catches audibly when Taehyung presses the pad of his thumb against the small patch of protruded flesh and starts applying more pressure. The moan that slips from Hoseok’s lips knocks the wind right out of Taehyung’s lungs. Heck, he has to physically shake off the depraved thoughts that invade his mind, forcing himself to stay focused.
“Can’t you uh—” Taehyung scrapes his blunt nail against the patch of flesh, swallowing harshly when it starts to secrete oil, the scent of vanilla getting stranger, more intoxicating. “Can’t you smell me either, hyung?”
“I don’t know—” Hoseok’s voice breaks off on a whine, his eyes snapping shut, his lips parting wantonly. “Everything’s all fuzzy and I feel like my heads made of cotton and—” Hoseok brings his hands to cover his eyes, pressing down in aggravation. “I’m so scared, Tae—”
“Shh,” Taehyung says, gently peeling Hoseok’s hands away and bending down to press a kiss against the corner of his wet eyes. Hoseok’s breath hitches each time Taehyung kisses his tears away. When Taehyung pulls back, he is overwhelmed by the vulnerability in Hoseok’s eyes— by the crystal clear trust that gleams in the depths of his irises, like little diamond galaxies.
“I’ll take care of you, hyung.” Taehyung carefully wiggles under the blanket, gently scooping Hoseok into his arms and pulling him towards his chest. Hoseok goes pliant in his arms, sighing in defeat, melting into putty. He burrows himself under Taehyung’s chin, nuzzling into his scent gland and sighing deeply.
Taehyung hums under his breath, a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach when Hoseok tentatively flicks his tongue out before licking a stripe against his scent gland.
“Easy now,” Taehyung whispers, hands lowering to Hoseok’s hips, feeling the scorching heat of his body while pulling him ever the closer. “We got all the time in the world, hyung. I’ll take care of you for as long as you let me.”
Hoseok makes a small impatient grunt at that, nipping into Taehyung’s scent gland and making him chuckle under his breath. He squeezes Hoseok’s ass, gulping when his fingers become damp from the slick leaking right through the cotton layers.
It’s going to be a long night.