Jungkook leaned way, way over and let his head flop gently on Jimin’s narrow shoulder. “You okay, big alpha?” Jimin said, voice lower under Yoongi and Namjoon’s rumbling producer talk, blather that they were too inexperienced to understand as interns.
“Haven’t eaten enough today,” Jungkook said.
“You’re a lightweight. Just say you’re a lightweight.”
“M’not. I’ve got…big muscles and good chemistry.” And it would be so shameful to admit he was a lightweight when Namjoon sat across the carved mahogany coffee table. Not when Namjoon had courteously brought out the nicest bottle of vodka Jungkook had ever seen with an excited smile, and he’d gotten a little stupid off it instead of being classy.
“Is that what it’s called,” Jimin said, “Because I’ve got small muscles and bad chemistry and I’m handling my six better than you’re handling four.”
“You don’t have bad chemistry,” Jungkook said, twisting his face into Jimin’s neck. “You smell amazing. Like…clean and warm and…”
“Chill, kid,” Yoongi growled fondly, “Jeez you’re an awkward flirt. That’s one way to score with an omega. Call them ‘clean.’”
“It’s not like that,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to pull his head off of Jimin’s warm shoulder.
“Really? But you two are so cute,” Namjoon said with an adorable pout that sent the familiar wanting ache through Jungkook’s chest, “I thought you had the healthiest relationship I’ve ever seen. Don’t you fuck in the empty studios all the time?”
“Never,” Jimin said, with a slightly insulting tone of disgust. “And ‘clean’ is good. It’s honest. And friendly. Someone called me a fish market the other day.”
“They didn’t,” Namjoon said, appalled, “An alpha?”
“Beta. Doesn’t matter,” Jimin said, “That’s still better than being called a slice of pie or a bouquet of roses. Fake as hell. What do you tell omegas they smell like, omega-killer?”
Yoongi cringed. “I try not to mention smell when I’m sober.”
“When you’re drunk?”
“I usually go with something sugary,” Yoongi admitted. Jungkook opened his eyes and saw a rare flush on his cheeks. He giggled.
“Ah, the pie option,” Jimin said. “What do I smell like to you, Yoongi?”
“You want honesty?”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, which made him look like nerdy James Bond, dressed in purple silk and thousand-dollar designer jeans, the rich producer from the eight-floor studio, not actually Jimin and Jungkook’s boss, but just as intimidatingly untouchable.
They were friends, technically, all just friends. Jungkook couldn’t help the little bit of deference that slipped into his actions around them. They always seemed surprised, a little flustered. They went out of their way to treat both Jungkook and Jimin like one of the guys instead of just interns, but Jungkook still didn’t want anything coming back to bite his career, didn’t want to accidentally get on the bad side of an alpha as powerful but friendly as Namjoon.
“You think I smell like sex,” Jimin said, lounging back on Namjoon’s gorgeous sofa, a smirk on his lips. Jungkook stared up at his sharp jaw and thick eyebrows. Jimin looked strong for an omega, a little too built, a little too fierce. Jimin liked ordering Jungkook around, liked it when Jungkook blushed as he obeyed.
“You like omegas like me?” Jimin purred, controlling the most powerful people in the room just by opening his legs and laying his head back, making them want.
“Everyone likes omegas like you,” Yoongi said, a little bitterly. He was smart. He knew his own hormones were against him.
“You wanna fuck me?”
Yoongi and Namjoon looked equally glazed. They nodded. The city glow haloed around Jimin’s hair, skyscrapers visible out the window like the air around Jimin was sparkling in Jungkook’s unfocussed vision. The heady scent of his neck drifted in just inches from Jungkook’s nose. Jungkook shuffled closer and reveled in Jimin’s submission as he tipped his head to the side and let Jungkook’s nose brush against his neck.
“I don’t fuck with alphas,” Jimin said. “Never have, never will.”
Yoongi and Namjoon’s stared incredulously at Jungkook’s face pressed against Jimin’s neck, but he remained easily unaffected, like letting an alpha at his throat meant nothing to him.
“Like, not at all?” Yoongi said.
“I only fuck omegas,” Jimin said. “They don’t give me sass.”
Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi scoffed and gave him the usual ‘omegas literally can’t live without alpha cock,’ bullshit. “Fuck seriously,” Yoongi said. “You’re not bullshitting us?”
“I have terrible luck.”
Jungkook giggled against Jimin’s shoulder. “That means you too, Kook,” Namjoon said, giving him an odd look. He probably looked pretty strange, cuddled up like he was the omega instead of Jimin. Did he look weak? Would they find it weird?
“I’m not interested anyway,” Jungkook mumbled.
“How can you not be interested?” Yoongi said. “How can anyone not be interested?”
“Alphas love an omega they need to break,” Jimin grumbled.
“That’s not it,” Yoongi said quickly, “fuck, that’s not it. Oh my god. You know I’d never—shit, I didn’t mean it that way. That’s not why—Jimin, you know I respect you, right?”
“I wouldn’t be alone with three alphas if I didn’t trust them,” Jimin laughed. “I’m not stupid.”
Jungkook wrapped his arms around Jimin’s and snuggled closer while Yoongi and Namjoon shifted uncomfortably. “So only omegas,” Namjoon said. He looked good like that, eyebrows furrowed, gaze focused on Jimin. “Is that your sexuality?”
“I don’t understand,” Namjoon said softly, scratching his head and glaring at the floor, like it was distressing that he didn’t get it. “It’s biological, right?”
“Oh, there’s definitely biology,” Jimin said. “All three of you make me want to take my clothes off and roll over,” Yoongi and Namjoon shifted slightly, trying to mute their physical reactions, “but I have more self-respect than that. When I actually have sex with alphas, it’s fucking awful. I don’t even like betas.”
“Don’t like the dynamic?” Yoongi asked.
“You know how I’m like,” Jimin said, scraping his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, who blushed and closed his eyes. “Can’t stand backing down to anyone, and with alphas I can’t help it. It sucks. Plus, fucking omegas is hot. Two soft, needy people just trying to make each other feel good. It’s super cute. I love it.”
Yoongi and Namjoon’s pheromones spiked. Jimin giggled.
“What, nothing?” Yoongi said when Jungkook’s hormones didn’t change at all. “You got nothing from that?”
“I’m used to it,” Jungkook mumbled.
Early in their friendship, Jimin kept jumping slick little sentences like that on him, always stunned when it never got a rise until one day when he whispered, “Imagine Namjoon pinning you against a wall and making you suck his fat cock,” in Jungkook’s ear and Jungkook nearly fell on him.
“So, do a lot of people experiment like that?” Namjoon said.
“’A lot’ is kind of a relative term,” Jimin said, “There aren’t a whole lot of us to begin with since there are so many betas these days. Lots of omegas want sex that feels safe and are desperate to try anything,” Jimin said softly, “Alphas don’t tend to experiment much at all.”
“Really? Not alphas?” Yoongi said. “That’s on my bucket list.”
“Wait, are you serious?” Namjoon said softly, sitting forward.
“F—yeah,” Yoongi said, leaning forward, “like, imagine another alpha willingly submitting to you like that.” Yoongi said, “Wouldn’t that feel good? Like, dangerous in a hot way. They could turn on you and fight at any second, but they’re choosing not to. Like, the level of trust would have to be unreal.”
Yeah, that sounded good. Jungkook forced his eyes to stop drifting closed and watched Namjoon, the swell of his soft shirt over his pecs and the deep indents at the corners of his thick lips. “Yeah I know. I’ve thought about it a lot actually. I’m just glad I’m not the only one. Jungkook, what about y—?”
“Have you ever considered being the one bottoming?” Jimin asked suddenly.
Yoongi cringed. “No way. Wouldn’t feel safe. Too close to submission.”
“Omegas are expected to do that all the time, you know,” Jimin said.
“But you don’t have your brain pumping you full of adrenaline and all sorts of chemicals the minute you lose an inch of control,” Namjoon said. “It’s chemistry. Believe me, I’d love to not be like this. I can’t imagine letting someone…” Namjoon paused, swallowing hard, “sounds terrifying.”
“But you’d do that to someone else?” Jimin asked, just talking for Jungkook now, probably. Jimin didn’t give a shit about what alphas were scared of.
“Only if they wanted it, I guess,” Namjoon said. “Are there any alphas out there who’d do that though? Seems unlikely.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Jimin said cautiously.
“How do I find them?” Namjoon said, “I mean, hypothetically.” He shuffled adorably.
“There’s a Facebook page,” Jungkook murmured sleepily against Jimin’s shoulder. “Find someone to invite you on and there’s about two-hundred alphas from all over New York. Some more active than others. You nearly always find someone though.”
The living room hung silently on the edge of his awareness for a little while. “How do you know that?” Namjoon said.
Jungkook opened his eyes and realized that this was the real world and not a conversation he’d just dreamed up against Jimin’s shoulder. Namjoon’s deep, clever eyes stared right into his, challenging, and Jungkook looked away on instinct, easily giving Namjoon the upper hand. No alpha should give in that easily. “Know what?” Jungkook muttered, trying to save face.
“About the Facebook page.”
“Um. Jimin told me.”
Namjoon snorted, seeing right through that. “Would you bottom for an alpha, Jungkook?”
Jungkook stared blankly at the carpet, panic entering his head sluggishly through the sleepiness. “I…no.”
“That didn’t fool anyone, kid,” Yoongi said, voice velvety soft, talking to trapped prey.
Jungkook looked up and saw them both staring him down, daring him to deny it, looking like they’d pounce the moment he did. The old, familiar adrenaline snapped through his bloodstream, hackles raising. Jimin grunted in pain and pushed Jungkook’s hands off his arm. “You know,” Jimin said, “It’s not fair to ask him that question when he’s too drunk to lie even though he wants to. If he wants that to be private, let it be private.”
“Sorry, Kook,” Yoongi said, but it sounded a little like a smirk, and Jungkook’s brain fought towards sobriety as his heart thundered. Namjoon looked a little curious and patronizing. Jungkook struggled to stare evenly back, scared of what Namjoon would think if he broke it like he wanted to. Submitting to Namjoon was fine, but he had more power and prestige than Jungkook could ever touch. One word from them would blacklist him from the industry forever.
“Hey Kook,” Yoongi said. Jungkook didn’t break his gaze from Namjoon, face burning. Namjoon needed to back down, look away, apologize, walk across the room, pin Jungkook against the back of the couch, and tear his clothes off and—Namjoon smelled it, just a small breath of Jungkook’s pheromones in the room. His eyebrows twitched up.
Jungkook yanked his gaze away, panting, sitting upright to look big and angry, but his hands shook. He should apologize. He should apologize and leave before Namjoon got angry or disgusted and got him fired, before he lashed out said anything else that would hurt, make him feel gross, small, and worthless.
“So, I guess you do bottom for alphas?” Yoongi said tentatively. “It’s okay if you do. No judgement. That’s…really brave. I’m a little jealous.”
Jimin held his wrist up to Jungkook’s nose, letting Jungkook use his sweet, gentle scent to calm down. The painful, fearful adrenaline faded from his chest and left him tired and sweaty. They weren’t being hostile, not nearly as hostile as Jungkook’s instincts insisted they were being. No danger. Just friends.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said softly. “I shouldn’t have…that was mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”
Jungkook slowly let the tension out of his body and sagged against the back of the couch, still too on-edge to shut his eyes. Namjoon and Yoongi. Friends. Trust.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” Jimin said. “He’s younger. He technically works under you. He’s a good kid. Don’t press your advantage.”
“I don’t mean to,” Namjoon said softly. “I forget he’s not…you know. You can fight back, you know,” Namjoon said. “I’m not going to hold anything against you.”
Jungkook clenched his jaw. The problem was precisely that he didn’t want to, that Namjoon always brought out this side of him, the side that wanted to roll over and beg.
“Can I…ask a couple questions or are you done talking?” Yoongi said quietly.
“I think he’s done,” Jimin said.
“You can ask,” Jungkook said softly.
“So, you bottom, right?” Yoongi said, and then apologized quietly to Jimin for blowing over him like he hadn’t even spoken.
Jungkook fidgeted with his cheap, ten-dollar jeans from H&M. They looked like rags against Namjoon’s sofa. “Yeah.”
“How do you submit like that?”
“You can bottom without submitting.”
“Well obviously, but wouldn’t that not work with alphas? Surely you have at one point or another.”
“Not…any time I wanted to, no. If someone tries to get me to submit I usually just…leave. We have…a system, I guess.”
Jungkook glanced worriedly at Namjoon, completely unthreatening but a little concerned. Normally Jungkook could read the intensity of his scent to see if he was agitated, repulsed, or worried, but in Namjoon’s huge apartment, his scent swallowed up the whole place and made him feel delightfully small and lost. Namjoon himself blended into the background.
“Fuck, I thought you were a virgin,” Yoongi said. “Do you let alphas fuck you a lot?”
Almost every week since he started college two years ago, and sometimes more.
Yoongi sat back, pursing his lips and thinking. Jungkook prepared for some kind of crude joke to try to blow off the tension, or for Yoongi to try and minimize it and pretend that information didn’t change anything.
“Would you…do it with me?” Yoongi said.
“Huh?” Namjoon said, squeaking a little.
“I said it was on my bucket list,” Yoongi said. “Might as well be with someone I know. Seems safer.”
“Figured if you were going to ask anyone, it’d be me,” Namjoon said.
“What, that’s you’re problem? You’re jealous? Didn’t know you’d be putting out, Namjoon. You’d bottom for me?”
“That’s what I thought.” Because that’d wreck their friendship. There’d be no way to feel totally equal after that. He’d always have that little edge of power. Bottoming wasn’t necessarily submission, but it was allowance, a willingness to be the one trusting instead of trusted. Yoongi turned back to Jungkook, who sat very still like he wanted them to forget he was there. “Would you?”
Because of course Jungkook had never been equal to begin with. He might not care with Namjoon, but Yoongi was just another alpha, and that was a threat.
“No!” Jimin said.
“What do I get out of it?” Jungkook said, and Jimin gave him a warning look. Jungkook ignored him.
Yoongi hesitated. “We’re…friends. You want my money?” There was a little challenge in that. A little judgement, no matter what Yoongi’s intention.
“You’re asking a hell of a lot of me for friends,” Jungkook said quietly.
“You just said you bottomed for people a lot,” Yoongi said. “Do you not trust me?”
Jungkook took a deep breath. Don’t rise to the bait. Be sensible. “People usually pay me. It’s income” His gaze flicked to Namjoon again. Namjoon showed no signs of alarm, sitting easily in his big chair, knees wide, leaning gently on his pretty hand. “It…ends badly sometimes. They pay for that risk. You’re…a big risk. I’d have a lot to lose.”
“Oh,” Yoongi said.
“Then don’t risk it,” Jimin said.
“It would be fine,” Yoongi said, glaring. “I’m not a shit human.”
“I think it’d be fine, probably,” Jungkook said.
“They could handle it,” Namjoon reassured him.
“I’ll buy all your groceries for the rest of the semester,” Yoongi said.
“What?!” Jungkook yelped.
“Are you fucking serious, you cheapskate? That’s only, like, six-hundred dollars,” Jimin said.
“Five-hundred” Jungkook said with a giddy giggle. “I’m broke and starving. I could buy a new computer with that.”
“A cheap one,” Namjoon said. “Yoongi, I’ve seen you hand strippers five hundred-dollar bills right out of your wallet.”
“Yeah, that was insulting,” Yoongi said. “Sorry. I’ll pay your semester’s tuition.”
That was also insulting, just showing off at this point, dominance in the form of affluence. But tuition. If Yoongi paid his tuition…Jungkook numbly started taking off his shirt.
“Not in here!” Yoongi said.
“You wanna use a guest room?” Namjoon said, and Jungkook nodded breathlessly. He could be good, make it sound good. Maybe make Namjoon want it.
“Absolutely,” Yoongi said.
“Don’t do it,” Jimin said. “Alphas are so fucking bad at keeping friendships healthy even without mixing sex in.”
“Hey,” Yoongi snapped. “No, we’re not. Namjoon and I have been like brothers for years. In fact, Namjoon do you want in on this?”
“I’m…thinking,” Namjoon said. Jungkook’s throat went a little dry. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t care.
“Jungkook,” Jimin said softly.
“Don’t do it.”
Jimin bit his lip and glanced back at Namjoon and Yoongi, then leaned in to whisper in Jungkook’s ear. “They’re won’t respect you. I thought you cared about what they thought. They’re great alphas, but they’re still alphas.”
“So am I,” Jungkook said, pulling back. “I’ve done this a lot. It’s fine.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Jimin said hollowly.
“You don’t mind if I join, right?” Namjoon said. “Should I pay for…”
“Just jump in on the tuition thing,” Jungkook said. “That’s more than enough. I don’t care.”
“You all know this can’t end well,” Jimin said. “Stop thinking with your junk.”
“You’re an omega,” Jungkook snapped, rounding on him, not intending the threatening scowl. “This doesn’t involve you. Butt out.”
Jimin’s face went flat. “I’m going home. Jungkook, don’t come crying to me tomorrow.”
“I won’t!” Jungkook barked.
“Jimin, have a little more faith,” Namjoon said, annoyed.
Jimin gathered his coat and bag and nearly ran to the elevator. Only Jungkook could smell the little spike in his scent, either from anger or fear. But Namjoon stood above him, wide shoulders and that dorky, excited grin, and Jimin could wait.
“We can use the master bedroom,” Namjoon said, “and I’ll pay your rent for the rest of the year.”
“Fuck. Do it,” Jungkook choked, already standing.
Namjoon’s bedroom had windows overlooking the city on two walls, huge, gauzy curtains, soft carpet. The entire wall behind Namjoon’s bed was padded gray leather. A huge TV sat mounted along one wall with a loaded bookshelf below in the sitting area. His cool, dark scent overpowered the whole place, and Jungkook stood quietly for a minute, eyes glued to the window seats. He could imagine kneeling on one with his knees spread, upper body against the window pane, sinking his ass back on Namjoon’s cock as they fucked over the city.
“How do we do this?” Yoongi said, kicking off his shoes. “Jungkook, you’re the expert.”
They’d probably all been in all-male threesomes before, Jungkook with his experience and the other two with their reputations, but they may never have had to work out the physical delicacies of three alphas, the limitations on automatically submissive positions.
“Maybe you could…” he blushed and glanced at Namjoon, already dutifully unbuttoning his shirt. “You won’t bottom, right?”
“Ha. No way.”
Jungkook nodded. “You want my ass or my mouth then?”
“Ass,” Namjoon said as Yoongi said “Both.”
Jungkook blushed. “That was quick. You guys been thinking about this?”
Namjoon scratched the back of his head again, bumbling. “Not about fucking you. You just…got a nice ass.” So adorable.
“Why wouldn’t I want both?” Yoongi reasoned.
“Okay. I’ll suck Yoongi off while Namjoon fucks me and then switch?” Jungkook said, voice trailing off as the words actually hit his brain, that fact that he was saying them to the two alphas in his life he respected most.
Yoongi stared him up and down and then puffed all his air out, fluffing the blond bangs on his forehead. “Wow, we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”
For rent and tuition? Jungkook took off his shirt to prove the point, and Yoongi whistled. “Damn, kid. Didn’t know you were packing those guns. I’m feeling a little inadequate.” Jungkook glanced down at his own body with a little smile. Namjoon ducked around to his front to look.
“Well fuck. Wow. Can I just…” he reached out and patted down Jungkook’s chest like he was sizing up a horse. “Damn.”
Jungkook snorted, easily caught Namjoon’s hand against his stomach, and held it there against his abs. It was an easy moment, perfectly natural, something he’d done a hundred times in strangers’ bedrooms. I want this. Lucky you. Namjoon tensed. Yoongi gasped ever so quietly. The room went still. Right. They didn’t know how this worked.
“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Jungkook said softly.
“Sorry,” Namjoon said, taking a deep breath, looking a little panicked. “We’re supposed to be fucking. Right.” He ran his palm smoothly up Jungkook’s chest. “Can I?” he said, fingertips under Jungkook’s nipple. He nodded. Namjoon pinched and Jungkook made a tiny little sound in his throat, a smile on his lips. “You like that?”
“Hell yeah. Feels good,” Jungkook said, chest pushing forward as Namjoon did it again. He grabbed Namjoon’s pants and started undoing the belt, and Namjoon’s scent puffed through the room, a little threatening in the best way. So much fun.
Yoongi looked on appreciatively beside them, and Jungkook tugged him closer by the belt. Yoongi let himself be steered, and Jungkook loved it. They played the careful push-and-pull so well already.
“Not so weird,” Yoongi said, hand running down Jungkook’s back and over his ass.
“Do we kiss?” Namjoon said.
“Up to you,” Jungkook said.
“Might be kind of weird,” Namjoon said. “Better not.” Jungkook tried not to let his disappointment show, but Namjoon leaned forward and bent Jungkook’s chest back a little with his big hands to suck his nipple between his lips. Jungkook let himself be held, face tipped up and his hands strong on Namjoon’s shoulders. The horrible, powerful urge to submit, to give everything to this man pulled on his mind. He fought it back.
“Not so weird,” Yoongi breathed. “Pretty hot.” He squeezed Jungkook’s ass.
“Take your shirt off,” Jungkook said.
“Fine. Fuck with your shirt on if you’re so insecure.”
Yoongi scoffed and backed up a bit. Namjoon’s mouth drifted up Jungkook’s chest and testingly across his clavicles. Jungkook turned his unintentional moan quickly into a little growl of warning. Namjoon’s lips brushed the base of Jungkook’s throat and alarms went off all over Jungkook’s system. Too close. Too good. Too dangerously wonderful. He shoved Namjoon away and leaned over to catch his breath, because that was what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t want that. His heart picked up a little.
“Too far?” Namjoon breathed with a little laugh.
“You know it is.”
“Oh man,” Yoongi said. “If that’s too far, we’re not going to be doing much, are we?”
“Just don’t fucking threaten me,” Jungkook said. “Submission isn’t part of this. Don’t try to make me.”
Namjoon nodded slowly, probably wondering how sex was supposed to work without submission. Jungkook pulled his pants off and went over to Yoongi, now naked, on the bed. “Decided to lose the shirt?”
“I’m not insecure.”
“You’re insecure about your insecurity,” Jungkook said, getting on his elbows with his head over Yoongi’s cock, big, thin, and half hard on his hip.
“For such a sweet kid, you really know how to piss a guy off,” Yoongi growled.
“Don’t be shy. Your body’s perfect, darling,” Jungkook breathed insincerely against Yoongi’s thigh, “You’re so skinny. Got a thigh gap, babe?”
“Shut up!” Yoongi laughed.
“We need a position that’s gonna work,” Namjoon said, scratching his hair thoughtfully. His shirt still hung loosely from his shoulders, and Jungkook eyed the gap curiously. “Yoongi, maybe you can get on your back and you two can sixty-nine?”
Yoongi stiffened, anger slicing through the room and setting them both on edge. Jungkook backed up fast. “No. Make Jungkook get on his back.”
Jungkook sat up. They both stared expectantly at him. Jungkook had fucked on his back once. He’d shoved the guy off halfway through and nearly attacked him. “Not my job either,” he said. “Yoongi, just put your back against the headboard. No big deal.”
He leaned forward cautiously as Yoongi adjusted, and gently licked the softening tip, avoiding looking up while he did it. Sucking dick was perfectly non-submissive if he just didn’t act like he was doing it for Yoongi.
Yoongi’s legs shifted slightly on either side of Jungkook’s body as he sucked, body tensing uncomfortably. He didn’t get any harder. Jungkook gave him one coy glance through his eyelashes and sank his chest closer to the sheets, just enough gesture to suggest submission, never really giving it, but that’s what alphas fucked each other for, that little suggestion. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh,” he muttered.
The bed dipped behind Jungkook as Namjoon climbed back on. Jungkook checked back behind himself and saw a bottle of lube in Namjoon’s hand and no clothes anywhere. He couldn’t stop to admire. That’d look too eager. He turned back around and swallowed Yoongi lower, showing off how deep he could get.
“Oh fuck, you really are good at everything,” Yoongi said. Jungkook’s grabbed the base of his dick and squeezed. Yoongi grabbed him by the hair. Impasse. Jungkook giggled. Namjoon took that moment to give Jungkook’s dick one long, slow stroke through his legs.
Jungkook moaned around Yoongi’s cock and kept sucking powerfully. Yoongi squirmed. “Better hurry, Joon. I’ll need that before too long.”
“That?” Jungkook hissed.
Namjoon pushed two fingers into Jungkook’s ass. “This?” he echoed with a chuckle, and Jungkook’s heart raced for a moment with Namjoon’s fingers, Namjoon’s fingers, reaching up inside him, feeling just as long and gorgeous as they looked. Jungkook wanted to suck them down his throat till he gagged, feel them against his walls till he was mindless and wild with pleasure. He forced some calm.
Namjoon stroked a cool hand over Jungkook’s ass. “Oh fuck, you’re loose,” he added.
“M’not a virgin. I do this a lot. Might’ve gotten laid tonight after I left here,” Jungkook said, focused on Namjoon behind him. Namjoon behind him. Namjoon behind him with hands on his ass. It took everything he had not to go limp on Yoongi’s hips and whine like a bitch against his dick. His heart thumped nervously, unsure of what to do with that urge.
Namjoon pushed the fingers back in again with more lube, stroking methodically around his walls and down over the front, searching. “Haven’t had anything in here in a while though, have you?”
“Not since last night,” Jungkook gasped. “Got some toys. Why?”
“Prostate is kinda hard to find,” Namjoon said.
“Just keep rubbing. It’ll…swell up ack, Yoongi don’t fucking pull. I’m coming back. Don’t be so fucking needy.”
“I’m not fucking needy,” Yoongi growled, trying desperately to steer Jungkook’s head back over his cock. Jungkook yanked his head out of his grasp and Yoongi whined a little.
“Don’t be a bitch,” Jungkook muttered. Yoongi scowled. Dangerous. No teasing. Teasing led to anger, to people trying to take control back by force. Jungkook ducked slowly back down and carefully licked a stripe from his balls up to the tip of his dick.
Yoongi rubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck, this is weird.”
Jungkook rubbed his fingers over Yoongi’s thighs and he shivered. “Keep. Fuck. Keep sucking, dammit, just…Not trying to order you around, I just need ohgodthankyoufuck.”
Jungkook hummed and Yoongi jerked, clutching the edge of Namjoon’s mattress.
“Mind if I Slytherin?” Namjoon said, giggling, bracing a hand up by Jungkook’s side with the tip of his dick tapping against Jungkook’s rim.
“You’re such a fucking dork,” Jungkook giggled, trying not to clench up and panic as Namjoon fucking Kim lined up to fuck him. “Was that a fucking Harry Potter p—augh! Oh fucking christ!”
Jungkook really should have gotten a good look at Namjoon’s dick before he agreed to let it in his ass. He pulled off of Yoongi’s and groaned out loud, staring blankly at Yoongi’s pale lower belly. The ache seemed to radiate out, wider and heavier than anything he was used to. His sense left his head, shorting out like a power surge, frying his self-control. Namjoon had his hips in his hands. Namjoon had his dick in his ass. Namjoon was filling him and owning him and taking control.
It kept coming too, pressing deeper and harsher, filling him to breaking point and then further. He couldn’t get like this. He’d let go and be a pathetic, submissive slut. He needed control back. He really needed control.
He didn’t want it.
Namjoon shifted his hips and rocked just a little. Jungkook gasped, body tightening painfully. He reached up to grip Namjoon’s shoulder, maybe tell him to hold still and give him a moment to get his head back on straight, and grabbed Namjoon’s hair instead. He lost balance and rocked forward, still gripping Namjoon’s hair up next to his own, forehead pressed against Yoongi’s hip.
Namjoon braced tensely above him, pinning Jungkook between two alphas, rendered helpless by the dick in his ass, danger everywhere, looming and threatening. He should fight back. His dick ached hard, head pumped full of adrenaline, and endorphins flooding in from the pressure now strong against his prostate and deep inside him. He wanted more.
Namjoon let out a little puff of breath right over Jungkook’s neck, an alpha right at his jugular. He jerked Namjoon’s head away by the hair on reflex and tried to sit up. Namjoon growled, yanked away from his hand, and Jungkook’s arms gave completely. He flopped to the bed.
“I can’t,” Yoongi said, and the hips pulled out from under Jungkook’s body. “I’m gonna watch and jack off over on the other side of the bed. It’s just a little too weird for me.”
Jungkook tried to say something snarky and stupid about him not being alpha enough, maybe make sure it wasn’t because he thought Jungkook was a freak, maybe go with something about still paying his tuition. He managed a desperate, embarrassing, whining moan.
Namjoon chuckled, breathless with power, and bit Jungkook’s ear harshly.
If anyone else had done that, Jungkook would have knocked their teeth out. He melted. Namjoon ran his big hands slowly up Jungkook’s chest and pinched his nipples. “Ready, baby?” he purred in Jungkook’s ear. Jungkook could only nod.
The thrusts started small, soft, little jerks that sent waves pounding through Jungkook’s system. He closed his eyes and moans fell out of him without his control. “You okay?” Namjoon said, sounding a little amused, but Jungkook’s head had begun to fuzz over, nothing but the stretch in his spread thighs and the ache in his ass, the way his arms trembled as they held him up.
“Fuck, look at him,” Yoongi said. Jungkook stomach rocked, shock whipping through his brain at being talked down to. “Fucking drooling on your sheets, Joon.”
“Prettiest intern the studio’s ever had,” Namjoon murmured, and Jungkook squirmed with pleasure, powerless to fix himself. Namjoon, fucking Namjoon, godlike, gorgeous, wonderful Namjoon, his hips in his strong grip, his thighs spread wide, talking down to him like a pretty omega. Alphas over him. Alphas in control of him. Namjoon over him. He’d be safe.
Namjoon’s breath brushed over the top of his neck and Jungkook’s elbows finally snapped out from under him, letting him escape a few inches from danger, but his dick pulsed hard, pleasure arching through his whole body, right down to his curling toes and flexing fingers.
“Oh, baby, you’re a mess,” Namjoon crooned right in his ear.
“Please!” Jungkook gasped.
He hadn’t meant to beg.
Namjoon grunted behind him, a little, shocked noise. Alphas never begged. Humiliation burned up Jungkook’s throat, hot and pleasurable. He could smell Yoongi and Namjoon’s hormones spiking through the air. They must want to destroy him.
But they wouldn’t. They would never. Jungkook stayed boneless under the rush of chemicals in his head. Aggressive alpha hormones hung heavy in the air, thick and terrifying in Jungkook’s nose. Namjoon had him pinned to his bed, shaking and mindless, and he still wouldn’t hurt him. The huge, ballooning trust Jungkook had for Namjoon made him reach back and pull Namjoon’s face down against his own neck. Namjoon hesitated, lips brushing Jungkook’s soft skin, and he squirmed, panting in terror and delight. “Please,” he murmured again, and Namjoon gave the flesh of his neck a tiny nip.
Jungkook’s instincts told him to fight, to punch the man behind him in the face and run. To snarl and scratch and bite back, to rip into his throat before he could get Jungkook’s, but it was Namjoon. Namjoon. He let go of all the fight and let his head flop to the side so Namjoon could suck along the skin of his throat. The licks began carefully gentle and then got harder, little bites and pulls. Yoongi groaned beside them. Namjoon’s grip on his hips tightened possessively, teeth scraping the soft skin of his neck, then biting down, and Jungkook’s mind whited out to the aggressive pace of Namjoon’s hips.
At some point, Jungkook came, body tightening up and letting go with an alpha’s mouth, Namjoon’s mouth, at his neck. He came back to himself a little just as Namjoon rolled him over on his back—on his back—and pushed back inside him, forcing him to keep taking it. He whimpered. He could feel it in his throat, some awful, pathetic sound. Namjoon’s dick dragged wonderfully inside him, pressure lighting up in all the right places, intense and a little painful. Namjoon’s large hands seemed to cover his whole waist.
He reached for Namjoon’s blurry, half-visible face, and tugged on his jaw to bring him close. Namjoon came, but not to Jungkook’s mouth like he’d wanted. He went right for the front of his throat. Fingers wrapped around Jungkook’s wrists and trapped him against the bed. He let it happen. Belly up with teeth at his throat, powerless and overwhelmed. He’d never felt so safe.
“Fuckin hell,” he dimly heard Yoongi mutter. Yoongi was there? Oh, of course. Yeah. Of course, Yoongi was there. Yoongi started this. Two alphas right over him in his helplessness and neither of them had hurt him yet. His back arched pleadingly.
Jungkook couldn’t see anything. Maybe his eyes were closed. He opened them. Too bright. Namjoon kept slamming deep into him. This wasn’t supposed to feel so good, was it? He was spread out, grotesquely open and exposed, and not bothering to fight back at all. There were still teeth on his neck.
“Look at you,” Namjoon’s voice purred in his ear. “Just giving me everything.”
“Please,” he sobbed.
“Please what? What do you want?” Namjoon said breathlessly, panting as he pounded Jungkook hard.
Jungkook struggled free and grappled for his face, trying to tug him down with trembling hands. Namjoon’s hips slowed a little. He pulled free and Jungkook tried to follow, but Namjoon just pushed him down by the shoulders, and Jungkook struggled for a second, feeling suddenly endangered and denied, but then Namjoon’s soft lips pressed against Jungkook’s cheekbone and he relaxed again.
“Little alpha,” Namjoon said quietly, hands sweeping dangerously over Jungkook’s soft, exposed stomach. He didn’t even tense. “Good boy,” Namjoon said. Jungkook shivered. His thighs ached from being forced wide. “How does this feel?” Namjoon said, one hand sliding back up his chest and around his neck. Jungkook could do nothing but gurgle, hands still limp by his head. Namjoon stroked his Adam's apple with a finger, just a little edge of claustrophobic pressure on his windpipe. He gasped and weakly struggled to roll to a more defensive posture, but the pressure in his ass shifted, and he went limp on the bed again, moaning in heady bliss. The fingers stroking up and down his neck only wound him up further.
“Just a little more, Kookie,” Namjoon said, pressing one of his knees back. The overstimulation bordered on unbearable. Jungkook squirmed. “You gonna come again?”
“Please,” Jungkook whimpered.
“My job, right?” Namjoon said, and Jungkook could just hear the smirk. A hand wrapped around his painfully sensitive dick and he whimpered and thrust into it. “There you go,” Namjoon’s voice cooed, condescending, deep, and so, so good.
“Fuck, he’s crying,” Yoongi said.
“I would too,” Namjoon muttered. “Chin up, bitch. Let me at your neck.”
Jungkook sobbed and obeyed, body drawing tight again as Namjoon bared down on him, arms barred across his, hips pinned in Namjoon’s lap, and his throat open for his mouth. “Look at you, submitting for me,” Namjoon murmured softly, “You’d make such a beautiful omega.” His teeth closed gently around the most vulnerable spot in Jungkook’s neck, and Jungkook came again in a burst. Everything buzzed out and slid away.
“Jungkook, you gotta get up,” Namjoon said. Jungkook giggled, euphoria sending tense shivers down his body. Namjoon pulled his arm. He sat with it. His belly and thighs felt damply cool. He touched it. Still wet. He’d needed that hand to stay upright. He tipped sideways on the heavenly soft mattress and giggled again.
“It’s been a whole half hour,” Namjoon said, laughing a little. “Yoongi’s already passed out. You’re getting the nice guest room though. I need to sleep. Please get up.”
Jungkook cracked open his eyes and blinked up at him. Namjoon looked so happy, smiling down at him with his hands on his hips, body firm but just a little chubby over his flannel pajamas. Jungkook reached out to touch and Namjoon grabbed his arm and pulled him onto his feet. “C’mon, Kook. You can do it.”
Jungkook giggled again, head too fuzzy to form words, and let Namjoon lead him down the tall hallway, million-dollar tile and warm light everywhere. The apartment seemed bigger than the house he grew up in, bigger than the fucking Metropolitan Art Museum with how long it was taking to switch rooms. He caught sight of an in-house studio as they passed. His knee gave out.
The floor felt cool, rug soft on his chest. Namjoon was pulling him back to his feet. “Jungkook, come on.”
He sounded annoyed. Jungkook clung apologetically, not understanding. They were happy. They were both so happy.
“We’re here, Jungkook. You can let go.”
Jungkook reluctantly released his arm and tried to mentally shake himself awake. Something felt off.
“This is your room for the night.”
He looked around. Similar décor to Namjoon’s room but a little smaller, cozier, the ceiling still lofty as ever. He could see the city out the window, another window seat inset against the glass, and Jungkook grinned. He’d sleep there. He started for it. “Please don’t touch anything yet,” Namjoon said, and this time he sounded tired. “Your bathroom is in here. You need to shower before you sleep.”
“ah,” Jungkook said, the first sound he’d managed in a while, and his voice was wrecked. It jarred him a little, how much it hurt, how much that cut through the numb buzz set into his limbs.
Namjoon pulled him into the museum-like luxury of the bathroom and explained the shower controls to him while Jungkook leaned on the real marble and tried to listen.
“Get clean and then get some sleep,” Namjoon said. “You’re probably…really tired. We can talk about it tomorrow. I’ll make you plenty of breakfast. Just…get some space and calm down. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He stepped back and Jungkook hobbled into the shower. He turned the knobs and let cool water blast over him. He shivered a little. “How do they get the pressure so good this high up?” he muttered.
“Huh?” Namjoon said, rushing back. “Did you say something?”
“Just wondering how they got the pressure so good this high up,” Jungkook croaked.
“Don’t know,” Namjoon said after a quiet moment. “See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Namjoon,” Jungkook said softly.
“What? What was that?”
“I said goodnight,” Jungkook said a little louder, and it cut off into coughing.
“Oh. Goodnight.” The door clicked shut.
Odd. That had been odd. Jungkook shifted nervously and started lazily going through the motions. Hair washed. Hair conditioned. Face washed. Body…he got done with most of his body and got stuck on clearing the cum out from between his thighs and feeling mostly back to normal. He’d been here before, loads of times, in some unfamiliar shower carefully scrubbing the scent of another alpha off him. Usually he brought special soap for it. How odd that after all his scheming and hiding around, trying to keep his habits from ever getting back to someone who might know him, that he was here at the home of the person he respected most doing the usual thing…
That hadn’t been the usual thing.
He straightened up. The water pressure stung on his neck. He put a hand up and touched it, and it burned. He stumbled out of the shower, getting water all over the floor, and stood there naked in front of the mirror.
He’d seen hickeys on an alpha once on the subway, the woman tucked angrily into the corner trying to hide behind her hair in shame and fury. He’d spent the rest of the week uncomfortable, wondering how the hell someone had managed to give an alpha those, what they would have had to do.
There they were, peppering his skin. He stepped back into the shower, neck burning like a brand, and numbly finished the motions of cleaning off, panic mounting harder with each passing minute till he sat down on the floor and just hugged himself in the water. He’d given in. He’d let—asked an alpha to maul him, rolled over and showed his belly and invited him in.
He’d have to go back to work on Monday and see them around the building and know they’d seen him roll over like a bitch for them. They’d never respect him again. Namjoon would never respect him again. Namjoon. He’d called Jungkook a bitch. He hadn’t even kissed him.
For a long, long time, there was only the sound of the shower, a muted, calming roar, and Jungkook sat very, very still against the wall, harsh humiliation yanking at his guts.
He got up and turned the shower off. Namjoon had left him his clothes and a set of pajamas on the bed. He pulled his own clothes on and tugged his hood up, hoping it hid his hickeys. His phone said 3 a.m. How’d it get so late?
The quiet apartment was lit dimly with the rosy glow of the city from the tall windows, and dim little lights hidden away on the walls. There were voices in the library. He froze.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi said. “You’d have to be really unhealthy to want…to be okay with…fuck. I can’t sleep. Should we tell someone?”
“I don’t think he’s sick,” Namjoon said. “I’ve been reading since I got him into the shower. It’s a trust thing. He said he’d never subbed for anyone before. He didn’t do it for me till I got a little dominant on accident and then he kept asking for more like he couldn’t help it.”
“So, it’s just you?” Yoongi said.
“Maybe you too?” Namjoon said, a little fearfully. “Why would it just be me?”
“Kid respects the crap out of you,” Yoongi said, “Everyone knows that. He’s always been more agreeable with you than me. When you’re not around we tease him for being a suck-up.”
Jungkook nearly turned around and went back to his room. His feet wouldn’t move. He didn’t want to hear this.
“I feel terrible,” Namjoon said. “Like, I literally feel sick.”
So did Jungkook.
“Was it really that bad?” Yoongi said.
“No, it was incredible,” Namjoon said quickly. “But he didn’t say he wanted it and then the minute he got desperate and asked for more, I just gave in and gave it to him. My instincts took over. It felt way too good. I shouldn’t have done that. I feel dirty. I feel like I’ve…taken advantage of him or something.”
“You didn’t know,” Yoongi grunted, “You’ve never done this before. He probably should have told us the rules before we started.”
“How the hell can an alpha just let go that easily? How am I supposed to look him in the eyes at breakfast tomorrow and not treat him like my bitch after that?”
Jungkook stupidly tried to sneak past the library door.
“I’m leaving,” he said softly, and kept walking.
“Jungkook, wait,” Namjoon said tiredly, stepping out into the hallway after him. “It’s like, three in the morning. Go back to bed.”
The order lashed at Jungkook’s will. He bristled and turned around only to deflate hard at the sight of Namjoon’s tired face, so noble and proud even with bags under his eyes and his hair flat and fluffy on his forehead. He felt like rolling over again. Like saying “yes, sir” and retreating back to the bedroom until he was told to come out. The familiar hot flash of defensive adrenaline pumped through him, always weak for Namjoon. He wished he could shut it off and just think for once.
“I’d rather leave,” he said quietly. Namjoon face contorted in distress. He smoothed it over.
“You sure? I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.”
Yoongi appeared in the hall behind Namjoon and Jungkook couldn’t help but step back. “You don’t have to pay me,” Jungkook said. “Either of you. I’m calling that off.”
“Don’t need your help,” Jungkook said quietly, eyes on the little end table on the side of the hall.
“Kook, your neck,” Namjoon said softly.
“Hm,” he agreed, and walked quickly towards the elevator.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Namjoon said, following after.
“No. Let me go home,” Jungkook said, and hit the elevator up button.
“I’m so sorry,” Namjoon said.
“Not your fault. I asked for all of that. You don’t know how this works. Really, don’t worry about it.”
They waited for the elevator. Namjoon stepped closer and reached out to pull the hood of Jungkook’s hoody away and assess the damage to his neck. He moved like he was entitled to it, threateningly close in Jungkook’s space without even realizing he was doing it, and even though his fingers came so close enough to Jungkook’s skin that he could feel the heat of them, he didn’t move. His heart rate stayed steady. It was Namjoon. It was Namjoon. He was safe. “How the hell do you do it?” Namjoon said.
“I’m worthless, weak, and I have no self-respect, obviously,” Jungkook said gruffly, just repeated what his father had told him once. “Should have been an omega.”
“That’s…um, okay,” Namjoon said uncomfortably.
“I’m not,” Jungkook said, blushing at letting his self-deprecation get the better of him, “but I know that’s what you think now. I don’t blame you.”
Namjoon turned to look at Yoongi, who shrugged. The elevator doors opened and Jungkook stepped quickly inside and hit the close-door button. Namjoon’s weak “See you at the office” got cut off.
He’d gotten one text from Jimin: I didn’t mean that. You can come crying to me if you need to. Or tell me off if you don’t. I’ll deserve it.
He went straight to Jimin’s apartment and spent the whole early morning wide awake with Jimin asleep against his chest, staring into space and feeling like he’d thrown everything away.
Jungkook hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he hadn’t slept well since Namjoon fucked him into submission on Friday. He’d done his best that Monday morning, but could only manage looking in the mirror for a split second before tugging on a beanie and walking out. He looked like death. Classes were unbearable. Walking into work felt like stepping back into his father’s house. Traces of Namjoon clung to the building’s air, mixed in with the smells of dozens of other people, but easy to pick out.
“You look terrible,” Taehyung said over the low wall of the cubicle next to his.
“Haven’t been sleeping well,” he muttered.
“You haven’t showered either,” Taehyung said, “Or did you just jack off this morning?” He leaned a little closer over the top of the cubicle and took a deep sniff.
“Woke up too late.”
“Ah. Is that why you’re hiding your messy hair under your hat, your hands are shaking, there are huge, black circles under your eyes and a triple shot of espresso in your coffee, and you’re wearing your idgaf hoody? What do you get up to sometimes that leaves you such a mess?”
How did omegas always pick up on everything? “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, meth?”
“Sex shouldn’t leave you looking like that or you’re doing it wrong,” Taehyung said. “Trust me, the omega knows. That shit wears you out. Don’t take care of your omegas and then forget to take care of yourself.”
“Not the problem,” Jungkook grumbled.
“Jeez, you’re in a bad mood. Be polite. What did you mother teach you? What happened?”
Jungkook tugged his hat lower over his ears, blushing a little. He’d always been bad at handling attention from omegas, and Taehyung was prettier and bubblier than most. He tried to be as soft and polite as possible when he said “Not your business. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Taehyung pouted. “Jimin!”
“What is it—leave him alone, Tae.”
“He’s being rude,” Taehyung grumbled. “He’s yours. Keep him in line.”
If Jungkook hadn’t been so tired, that comment wouldn’t have hurt, but his pride had taken just about enough of a hit recently. Everyone expected an omega to control him, pathetic as he was, and stupid enough to be rude to someone as beautiful and perfect as Taehyung. An obvious mess.
“Jimin, I’m serious. Your boy needs a hug.”
“He’s not mine,” Jimin snapped, coming over. “He’s a grown man who can take care of himse—oh jeez, Kook, are you okay? Are you sure you should be at work today? Did you eat? Can I get you something?”
“Couldn’t take a day off. Rent is due in a week and I won’t have enough if I don’t work,” Jungkook whined quietly, trying not to lean into Jimin’s arms like he needed it. “Should have let Yoongi pay it.”
“That’s why you have people pay you beforehand, right?” Jimin said, “Compensation in case you end up exactly like this? Why didn’t you let them?”
“We’re friends. It would make things weird.”
“Uh-huh,” Jimin said. “And sex wouldn’t?”
“Didn’t want to act like their bitch,” he whispered.
“Don’t cry, honey. Don’t want red eyes at work.”
Jungkook swallowed it back. “I’m so tired.”
Taehyung loved to tease, turning the way alphas talked to him into a well-disguised weapon, but he lay off for the rest of the afternoon, even stopping to give Jungkook a shoulder massage with his long fingers as an apology. “Sorry, cutie,” he muttered, “I shouldn’t be so mean. You’re pretty cool for an alpha.”
“I try,” Jungkook said weakly, head rolling limply forward as Taehyung’s thumbs worked the knots in his back.
“The big man came downstairs,” Taehyung muttered a second before Namjoon’s scent hit them. “Whoa. Suddenly pretty tense there, Kook. That’s a lot of—oof, wow. That’s getting me a little wet,” Taehyung groaned and lowered his face to smell more of the anxious, defensive hormones coming off Jungkook. “D’you two have a fight?” He slurred. His hands slid down Jungkook’s chest. “That’s so…fuck. Did you lose?” The room mixed with scents. The other alphas had turned around to figure out what was getting pretty Taehyung so excited. The rest of the room, mostly betas, were always excited for drama.
Namjoon turned too, eyes sliding up and down Taehyung’s figure in a daze before he locked eyes with Jungkook and blinked in surprise. Jungkook whipped his gaze away and then felt like an idiot.
“Wow, you dropped that fast,” Taehyung giggled softly. “You scared?”
“Don’t be mean,” Jungkook whispered.
“Kook,” Namjoon said, voice coming closer. Jungkook looked bravely up and had to consciously control the tilt of his head upwards instead of keeping his chin protectively down. “Could you answer my texts please?” Namjoon said. He looked a little worn, matching dark circles under his eyes and his hair flat and untouched on his head instead of his usual up-do. He pulled his sleeves nervously over his hands as he walked up. “I’ve been worried, and, like, having a hard time, I guess.”
“I—yeah. Sorry. Just…didn’t. They were…I didn’t know…”
“What’s going on?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook’s cheeks burned. Alphas usually had a code of carefully polite posturing, didn’t face each other quite head on, didn’t hold a gaze longer than necessary, didn’t lean close, doing anything to reduce threat and not set off each other’s instincts. Namjoon did none of that, chest squared forward, leaning over him in his chair, forcing him to either retaliate aggressively or sit there meekly and let everyone in the room watch him take it.
He stood up quickly on shaky legs and nearly slammed Namjoon in the chest with his shoulder. Namjoon stepped away looking alarmed. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, like asserting himself over Jungkook was a given now. “Sorry,” Jungkook said, heart thudding heavily, “You just…leaning over me.”
“S-sorry. Wasn’t—didn’t think I was at least,” Namjoon said, still facing him head on and staring Jungkook directly in the face so it was Jungkook’s job to look away and not a shared duty like it should have been. His gaze was wide-eyed and worried instead of challenging, so he probably didn’t realize he was doing it, physically unaware and clumsy as he was. Jungkook gave off none of the quick, defensive chemical cues he was used to noticing. Jungkook flushed, feeling the eyes of the whole room.
Taehyung sauntered back to his cubicle and sat in his rolling chair out in the hallway, watching.
“Look,” Namjoon said quietly, and Jungkook flinched when Namjoon nervously ran a hand through his hair, moving too fast. “I want to talk to you about this. I’m freaking out a little.”
He stepped forward, probably just to talk quieter, but it was too much, too unconsciously superior, and Jungkook couldn’t stand still in the middle of a crowded room any longer with everyone watching Namjoon so casually assert his dominance. He turned and walked quickly away. Jimin passed him, probably to cut Namjoon off.
He hid in the bathroom, standing out of sight of the mirror, his back flattened against the tile and tried to get the embarrassing desire to submit out of his head. Namjoon had no more respect for him. Jungkook had chosen to give himself away, did everything wrong for one fast night. Namjoon's posture had shown so much disrespectful assertion, though he was too polite to ever do so consciously. Jungkook had lost him.
Jimin eventually picked the lock and dragged him back to his desk with a cup of tea. Namjoon’s car quietly disappeared from the lot that evening. He’d gone out the back door and avoided Jungkook completely. Jungkook didn’t sleep again that night.
Seokjin and Hoseok woke Jungkook up at three in the morning with tiny, quiet moans coming through the wall and rhythmically creaking bed springs. He didn’t have the heart to tell them to be quiet. He’d woken them up an hour ago when he got home from work anyway. They were trying to be quiet, but the thin, beaten up walls kept in very little noise. They’d only recently started trusting Jungkook enough to have sex with him in the house, and it must have been a bit of a strain on their relationship to hold off so much, so Jungkook didn’t mind.
He rolled to the side and stared around his tiny, dark closet of a room. His posters used to hang in such a nice, big room at home with clean walls and lofty ceilings, then they had to put up with a college dorm, corners beat up by prying their blue-tack off the wall at the end of every year. Now they hung from thumbtacks in the soft plaster of a disintegrating fire-hazard of a place, creased and beaten up.
Seokjin let out a particularly melodious, long moan and paused, and Jungkook wondered if he’d come, but then the gasping picked up again, more rapidly this time, and the squeaking intensified. Jungkook rolled over with a sigh. One week soon after he moved in, Seokjin had been in heat and Jungkook came home without knowing and nearly ended his and Hoseok’s relationship simply by being stupid enough to try to get stuff from his room. Seokjin nearly jumped him. Jungkook nearly let him. Hoseok, only a beta and not as enticing a prize as young, hormonal, alpha Jungkook, stood in the hallway with both hands over his mouth in horror and watched as his boyfriend of four years nearly tore their new roommate’s clothes off.
They’d all laughed about it a few days later, a little awkwardly, Jungkook with bright red cheeks, apologizing over and over again. “We almost didn’t let you rent with us,” Hoseok admitted. “Because you’re an alpha. It doesn’t usually work out. We’re just desperate. You’re cool though. Thanks for backing off.”
“Don’t thank me for that. I’m just being decent.”
When Jungkook went into rut, Seokjin let him get off to the sound and smell of him and Hoseok fucking. They’d been very open about their needs ever since.
So Jungkook didn’t feel at all bad about rolling over and shoving his boxers down his thighs as his dick hardened steadily to the sound of Seokjin’s moans. He’d given up trying to imagine omegas years ago. His go-to imaginary alpha was a smiley, brown-eyed man with a chiseled body and good hair, body just a little bulkier than Jungkook’s, lined up against his lap and grinding.
The imaginary dick was bigger than he normally imagined it. Jungkook pulled faster, dry friction getting him squirming on the bed. The other alpha would be non-aggressive, just having fun, two bros with their dicks out, both feeling good. On the other side of the wall, Seokjin moaned louder and goaded Hoseok on, and Jungkook knew he’d smelled him. Fuck, it must be wonderful to just let someone hold him down and fuck him up. Seokjin groaned happily. Jungkook groaned too, quietly wanting.
The imaginary alpha’s body went slightly soft, skin darker with big, full lips and narrow eyes. Jungkook fought the image of Namjoon away and just tried to imagine the generic body.
Not enough. Imaginary Namjoon would tell him to roll over, and he would. He’d get up on his knees and Namjoon would hold him down by the back of the neck and pound into him over and over, crooning praises in his ear with that deep voice, stroking those long fingers back inside him, and every time Jungkook looked up, he’d see his gentle face and dimpled smile.
Oh, fuck it. Jungkook kicked off his boxers, rolled over, and shoved a pillow between his thighs. He dropped his back, spread his knees, and groaned softly like a needy whore. Seokjin moaned heavily on the other side of the wall and Hoseok giggled.
The pillow wasn’t ideal, too much friction, so Jungkook rocked with tiny jerks against it while he grappled for the bottle of lube hidden behind his mattress. He whimpered pathetically as his cold fingers jammed their way inside him. He needed someone to let him go limp, to hold him down and make him feel good
Seokjin’s pheromones wafted in waves through the apartment, and Jungkook worked up a steady circling that brushed maddeningly close to his prostate. His other hand squirmed between his hips and the pillow and started stroking.
How long had he wanted this, the domineering force he imagined behind him even now, someone biting his neck and forcing him to submit? Had he craved that loss of control before Namjoon gave it to him? He let go of his dick and clawed at the hickeys on his neck, gritty with poorly scrubbed-off concealer.
Fuck, what he could do with three hands. Or another person. His hips twitched fitfully against the pillow as he pinched the tender skin of his neck. Seokjin’s moans pitched higher in the other room, and Hoseok’s gentle voice cut through it. Seokjin giggled breathlessly and then gasped. Jungkook made out a breathy, desperate “please,” through the wall and buried his face in the sheets, remembered gasping the same thing to Namjoon, really just like an omega.
Namjoon said he’d make a pretty omega. Jungkook whimpered just because he could, there in the privacy of his own bed, and listened to Hoseok come in the other room. Seokjin hummed a blissed-out sigh, some deep, happy moans. Hormones bloomed through the apartment. Jungkook breathed deep and heavy till he felt lightheaded and his dick flexed and jerked in his hand. He rolled over and pulled his shirt up just in time to come all over his own chest.
Seokjin pushed his door open and Jungkook pulled a handful of sheets over his dick, trying not to trail it in his cum, still shuddering and gasping through aftershocks. “I got you some water. Oh. Hoseok, can you bring the rag?”
Hoseok wandered in, covered in sweat with his hair mussed and his eyes half closed. He dropped a wet rag on Jungkook’s stomach and then sat heavily on the mattress and leaned against the wall.
“Hydrate,” Seokjin ordered. “We thought you had an omega in here with all those pretty sounds. Just you?”
“Ugh,” Jungkook responded, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“You make some lovely noises, alpha,” Seokjin said, quickly wiping him off.
“Don’t flirt. Your boyfriend is right here.”
“It’s not flirting, it’s teasing,” Seokjin said. He lifted the blankets just a little and mercilessly wiped off the oversensitive head of Jungkook’s cock, who let out a strangled gasp. Hoseok fell limply onto Seokjin’s lap with a nasally gurgle. “It’s not like we don’t know you fuck with alphas,” Seokjin said, knocking his legs apart and swiping the lube off Jungkook’s ass.
“One of the things I like best about you, actually,” Hoseok said, curling protectively over Seokjin’s lap.
Jungkook just scowled into his arm as Seokjin politely covered him up again. Seokjin’s hand pet fondly at Jungkook’s bare abs. Both roommates were older, twenty-four and twenty-six, and Jungkook wasn’t sure why they hadn’t just bonded and started a family already. They didn’t actually know each other that well, just the proximity and mutual need bringing them together. There were no keeping secrets in an apartment with walls so thin, so they just didn’t. “Thanks for letting me stay again,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry I’m pathetic.”
Seokjin snorted. “Pathetic? We feel safer with you here. You’re polite and intimidating and you smell amazing.”
“You smell scary,” Hoseok grumbled sleepily.
“Makes me want to take care of you,” Seokjin murmured, still calmly stroking Jungkook’s tummy, which probably still stank of his spunk. Seokjin seemed to like that.
“Just have a baby already,” Jungkook said, smiling.
“Why would I bother to get pregnant when I have you, my big baby?” Seokjin said. Hoseok’s hand wormed into Jungkook’s, long fingers lacing sleepily together. “You love being taken care of, don’t you?” He patted the wad of sheets over Jungkook’s cock and giggled when he tensed a little. Jungkook loved being played with and Seokjin loved to play. Hoseok loved to watch.
“You’ve been staying out late,” Seokjin said. “Where have you been?”
“I work afterhours at the studio a lot. Don’t want to intrude here.” Because two happy, darling people cooking together and kissing by the window on rainy days made him really feel the impossibility of ever finding someone who could really love him. Not even Namjoon could watch him submit and still respect him the next morning.
He didn’t have to see Namjoon if he worked afterhours.
Most nights, after everyone left for home between five and seven in the evening, Jungkook came out of hiding in the café on the first floor and went back to his desk. There he worked steadily on projects or homework, or little bits of tasks he’d picked up during the day to keep himself busy at night.
At first, the weirdest thing about the studio at night was the lack of light coming in the tall windows, but he quickly got used to that, and it became the lack of noise and smells. For a while, the presence of people lingered in the air, and then it faded into the air conditioning vents, and all that was left was Jungkook’s presence, the hum of a big building, and the ghostly cubicles of his coworkers. But he’d rather be alone to do his work after hours than feel the choking shame, the pit of his non-existent self-worth whenever Namjoon addressed him like he’d claimed dominance over him.
There were cameras around, but he doubted anyone checked them, or particularly cared if he spent a half hour tossing balled-up paper into trash cans. His supervisor had already talked to him about being choosing to work after hours so many days of the week, so he needn’t worry about someone catching him kicking his rolling chair lazily all the way from the copy room back to his desk. If he stood at the base of the stairs and pretended he could smell Namjoon’s scent coming down all the way from his personal studio on the eighth floor, no one called him on it.
On one night, just as he was getting into the swing of his work, he got a call from a painfully familiar number. “Mom?” he said quietly, leaning forward in his seat. “I thought you blocked me.”
“Didn’t forget your number though,” she said cheerfully from the other end. He didn’t respond. “Are you done for the day?” she asked, “Classes finished?”
“Yeah, it’s eight. Actually, I’m at work right now,” he said, looking around in case there might actually be some person he cared about around. Someone he could scream at and jump on and introduce to his mom.
“You have a job?”
“How else am I going to live in New York?” he said with a laugh that may have sounded a bit hysterical. “I work at a production studio. I’m an intern, b-but it’s paid, which is awesome. Like a music studio, yeah. And I’m making great grades. I’m getting music lessons. I’m paying my own rent. I’ve learned how to cook, kind of. The city is really cool, I just sometimes wish I could take a break and go home—” he trailed off and took a few deep breathes. On the other end of the line, his mother made a little noise that meant she was unsure of what to say. He jumped to figure out what she’d want to talk about, desperate to keep her on the line.
“How are you doing? How’s dad? How’s Junghyun?”
She laughed, back on comfortable ground. “I’m doing fine. Your father has to eat less sodium because his doctor says so, but he seems perfectly healthy to us. Your brother finally has a new girlfriend! She’s a lovely little thing. Absolutely perfect. I planted a new garden. It’s growing beautifully…But I’ve been thinking about things. Home just isn’t the same without my sons in the house. I’m having to find friends in other places. There just isn’t much to do with your father out drinking with his buddies so often. You’re doing well though?”
“I’m…” he looked around the dark studio. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve got good friends. I think this job will get me places. I’m getting better at skateboarding. Fuck, there’s so much to tell you. Sorry for swearing. I dyed my hair last year and then dyed it back. It made me feel weird and my clothes didn’t look right. You were right about that one. You were right about a lot of things, actually, now that I’m actually having to take care of myself. I’ve started walking places more. I don’t smoke anymore. You’d be so proud of me, Mom.”
“I’m sure I would be,” she said from the other end of the line, sounding proud, but also unsure. “Not getting in any fights?”
“Mostly not, no. I don’t have any reason to. You’d like my friends too. Can I say hi to Dad?”
“He’s, um, he’s busy right now, but maybe later…”
“He doesn’t know you’re calling me, does he?” Jungkook said. He got up and paced to the lounge in the corner so he could curl up against the arm of the couch and hug himself tightly with his phone still crushed to his ear.
“Well no,” she sighed, “he doesn’t. But I missed my little boy, Jungkook. My talented little alpha.”
Jungkook snickered happily. “I’m doing really well. I’m getting better at singing and producing. The people here love it.”
“Playing any sports?”
“I go to the gym a lot. That’s why I have to work so much. It’s expensive as shit. Sorry, I keep swearing.”
“It’s fine. You’re grown. Nineteen! I’ve missed two birthdays now.”
“Four,” Jungkook said softly. “The last one was a couple weeks ago. It’s…I’m a senior now, Mom.”
“Oh? Oh! Of course. That was…oh It’s been over three years then? It’s September. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine! Really, it’s fine.”
They paused awkwardly for a moment, Jungkook gripping his phone. “So, twenty-one,” she said, and heaved a deep, shaky sigh. “Your mother is old. I married your father when I was twenty-one. Meet any nice omegas?”
“I have two friends at work,” Jungkook said, twisting the fabric of his hoody in his hand. “They’re just friends right now, but nice omegas. There might be something there. Just maybe needs…more time.” And they both hated alphas passionately. Jimin and Jungkook just didn’t want to date the other type, and Taehyung wanted a sugar daddy he could boss around and use, but no use telling his mother that.
“Listen, mom. Can I come home? Not now, it doesn’t have to be now, but some time? Like, any time in the future?”
“You heard your father. No coming home till you have a nice omega and you’ve learned to stand up for yourself.”
“I know, I heard, and I do stand up for myself,” Jungkook said, “Just not to him. But I’m twenty-one. He can’t reasonably expect that for years anyway. I just…It’s hard. I’m doing so well, but people go home on breaks and I’m stuck here, and they always want to know why I never go home. I miss everyone. I miss the dogs. Like, things are going well, technically, but I’m at work at eight pm and I’ll probably be here for another five hours and I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to function a lot of the time, and I’m having trouble with some of my friends, and I just want to talk to you so much because you were always so good at making me feel okay—”
He couldn’t stop the sob before it spilled out of his throat and echoed shamefully around the silent workroom.
“I know. Alphas don’t cry. Whatever. I’m sorry. I’m tired and stressed and I haven’t talked to you in years.”
“You know, I have never once seen your father cry.”
“He’s your husband, not your son. I am,” Jungkook groaned. “I cried to you for eighteen years. I’m not gonna stop now. Bet he cries to his own mom.”
“Ugh. You can say that again,” she grumbled, “The looks that woman gives me when I see her every Christmas make me want to…clock them both upside the head.”
He chuckled weakly.
“I’ll try to talk some sense into your father,” she sighed, and didn’t sound too committed to the idea. “But you know how he is. We’ll see if—Oh shit. I hear him coming. Bye, dear. I love you.”
“I love you so much,” Jungkook said quickly, “Please call me again. Please don’t ignore me. I promise I’m making you proud. Please, I wanna see you again.”
Somewhere in there, the line went dead, and Jungkook curled over his knees, put his head in his hands, and cried like a little bitch.
“Jungkook, hand me the sheet music.”
“’Jungkook, hand me the sheet music’ what?” Jungkook snapped.
“Please,” Namjoon gritted back. Jungkook smacked the folder against his palm and Namjoon snatched it away.
Yoongi paled further and sank lower in the seat behind them. “Calm down,” He grumbled, “Both of you. You’re gonna freak the artist out.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” Namjoon said, glancing worriedly at the young woman studying her music in the booth. “Jungkook’s the one being a disrespectful little shit—”
“Fuck off. You know what my problem is.”
“I actually fucking don’t,” Namjoon said. “You’re the one refusing to talk, so if you’re still upset about weeks ago even though you won’t acknowledge it—”
“This isn’t about weeks ago.”
“DON’T cut me off, you little shit,” Namjoon said, turning around and getting right in Jungkook’s face, who flinched and then flushed violently, feeling Yoongi’s gaze on his back.
“You both have a job to do,” Yoongi growled coldly them, and Namjoon settled back into his seat, strong jaw tensing, gorgeous long hands flexed. He wore the NYC all black uniform, an easy mix of street style and office wear as usual, making both Jungkook and Yoongi look like trash he picked up in the back alley.
“Jungkook, stop antagonizing him. You’re just an intern. It’s not smart.”
“Oh, now I’m just an intern?” Jungkook said, turning to face him.
“Do you want to work on this project, or not?” Yoongi said, blinking lazily under Jungkook’s stare like he didn’t consider him any sort of challenge, and Jungkook felt small, cornered, pushed down and kicked.
He used to trust these men.
“Of course, I do.”
“Then simmer down and shut up.”
Namjoon came to find him a few minutes later. He’d skipped the bathroom and headed straight out the back door of the whole building so no one would see him crouching in the gravel and trying not to throw up.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Namjoon said, and then froze when he saw Jungkook crunched up behind the air conditioning unit with his arms wrapped around his stomach. “Shit. Are you okay?”
“You don’t treat me like an alpha anymore,” Jungkook said.
“You don’t treat me like an alpha,” Jungkook repeated with more venom, struggling to stand. “You act like you don’t think you have to take me seriously anymore.”
“Don’t. Cut. Me. Off.”
Jungkook crumpled against the wall, turning nervously away, jaw clenched as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He nodded. “Sorry,” he whispered, shivering with cold and shame.
“Shit. You’re right. Sorry. Fuck. I didn’t mean—never mind.”
Namjoon ran his hands through his perfectly styled hair and it went from his flawless office look to gorgeously windblown and careless, and Jungkook felt a little weak in the knees. How did a man who tripped over air and spent an hour searching for the glasses in his shirt pocket manage to look so unfailingly flawless all the time? “What am I supposed to be doing, Kook?”
“Stop shutting me down and getting offended when I treat you like an equal,” Jungkook said, voice still pathetically uneven.
“You do! You treat me like your bitch.”
Namjoon looked reassuringly scared, “I don’t know how to treat you now, Jungkook. You submitted to me.”
“Because I trusted you! Not because you made me!” Jungkook roared, and Namjoon squared up defensively, responding to all the chemicals pouring out of Jungkook, aggression like gunpowder in the air.
But then Namjoon dropped his gaze and put his hands up, letting Jungkook win, and Jungkook took a deep, relieved breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Can we talk about this? I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks but Jimin keeps heading me off.”
“Good for him,” Jungkook said. “I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know how to say that without looking even more pathetic.”
“You’re ready now?” Namjoon said.
“No,” Jungkook said, hugging his thin t-shirt close in the nippy autumn air. “Look. I heard you and Yoongi talking afterwards, and it hurt, and I feel like a failure of an alpha. I’m disgusting. I don’t even blame you for treating me like your bitch because I’m fucking everyone’s bitch and I don’t know why I enjoy it so much and I’m so scared—”
“I’m scared too. I’m fucking confused. I enjoyed that way too much and fucked things up somehow. I just did what you said to. What did I do wrong?”
“There’s an etiquette system,” Jungkook said. “There’s a way you’re supposed to act. We should have talked about where the lines were. That’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”
“How do you do it?” Namjoon said. “Aren’t we supposed to have panic responses before we can let other alphas in like that? Your brain is supposed to just…autopilot. You seem like an incredibly well-adjusted, competent, assertive alpha. How do you shut that off?”
“I can’t with all alphas,” Jungkook groaned. “It’s just…some alphas.”
“Like a lot?”
“No. A few. Barely any.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook snapped. “You, my Dad…”
“That’s it,” Jungkook admitted. He stared down at his boots rather than look Namjoon in the face. Namjoon took a deep breath and ran his hands tiredly through his hair again. His shoes shifted in the gravel.
“Just me, huh,” he said softly.
“I think it’s a trust thing,” he said quietly.
“I—wow. Me? What did I do to deserve that?”
Jungkook shrugged. Namjoon had done more to disappoint than to earn trust.
“I really enjoyed doing that to you,” Namjoon said carefully, “Which I felt terrible about, by the way. It’s…a little weird…but after I had some time to think, I was kind of impressed.”
“You were?” Jungkook said.
“Letting yourself be vulnerable and passive is a very rare strength for an alpha,” Namjoon mused, staring up at the side of the building. “It’s so undervalued, because omegas come by it naturally, but it’s an emotional strength, a level of trust, and a societal necessity that alphas aren’t usually capable of. It takes a hell of a lot of bravery.”
Jungkook waited for the catch. It didn’t come. “Thank you.”
“This is confusing. I respect you objectively and then I see you and my hormones just…want you under me again and I hate that. I’m having trouble dealing with this without h-help. Can we be friends?” Namjoon asked, voice cracking on the last word.
“Not until you start treating me like an alpha.”
“You want me to treat you like an alpha?” Namjoon asked, sounding doubtful.
“Yes,” Jungkook said in an accidental whisper.
Namjoon stepped forward and Jungkook flinched and seized up, but Namjoon wrapped both long arms around his shoulders and pulled him carefully in for a hug. Jungkook breathed heavily over his shoulder, then tucked his face down between them and took deep breath of Namjoon’s dark scent. He groaned just a little.
“I don’t understand. I’m really sorry. I’m trying to.” He pulled Jungkook’s beanie off and tangled his hands in Jungkook’s hair, and it was so condescending somehow, so motherly, but also so deeply and honestly caring, that Jungkook just gripped his silk shirt, held on, and hated himself.
Namjoon’s arms dropped to Jungkook’s waist and squeezed. Jungkook swayed in his grip, a little embarrassed by how his body insisted on so little resistance. He lifted his head hopefully, eyes searching for Namjoon’s. Namjoon’s breath brushed over his parting lips.
Namjoon looked away and swallowed. “I don’t know yet.”
Jungkook blinked for a moment, still anticipating a kiss and realizing he wouldn’t get it, and then flushed and hid his face in Namjoon’s shoulder again, cheeks burning. If he hadn’t gotten a single kiss the first night, why would he get one now? “Sorry,” he whispered. Namjoon’s lips touched his hair, fingers combing through the back of it again.
“We’ve got to go back up and finish recording that song.”
“C-can I not? I think I need to go home.”
“How can you be so cute?” Namjoon murmured.
“Not cute,” Jungkook said, and cringed at how cute that sounded, even to his own ears.
“Big, strong alpha, huh?” Namjoon said, smiling.
Jungkook pushed cautiously away. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
Namjoon’s hand drifted gently up to cup Jungkook’s jaw, and then drifted south along the column of his throat. Jungkook trembled, heart picking up speed as his body still let Namjoon in.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Jungkook shrugged. He watched Namjoon trudge back up the stairs before gathering his stuff and telling his supervisor he was going home early.
“Fucking finally,” she muttered. “Go actually sleep for once, kiddo.”
“You okay?” Jimin asked, trapping Jungkook before he left so he could rub Jungkook’s scent all over himself for the subway ride home.
“Disappointed, I guess. I feel kind of stupid.”
“If you didn’t want to talk about it, why so mysterious and vague?” Jimin grumbled, rubbing his face all the way across Jungkook’s cheek and down his neck.
“Just give me a hug and tell me I’m not an awkward fuck-up, please.”
Jimin wrapped his arms tightly around Jungkook’s body, face resting on his shoulder. “You…are more impressive and beautiful than you could ever know.”
“Thanks. Tell Namjoon that.”
“Oh, he knows. Be safe.”
“Speaking of mysterious and vague,” Jungkook said, and gave Jimin a last snuggle before heading out. Jimin’s scent clung to him for hours, protecting Jungkook from the awkwardness of ignoring sensitive omegas as much as it protected Jimin from creeps. Not that anyone wanted Jungkook’s attention anyway.
“We’ve got someone new tonight,” Minseok said, already mostly naked when he led Jungkook in. They were two of the most popular alphas on the Facebook group, both being young, relatively small, and apparently unusually attractive. They’d ended up at these meet-ups together often enough to have each other’s personal contacts, but had never spoken outside of some other alpha’s apartment. “Friend of a friend. Hasn’t ever done this before.”
“Fantastic,” Jungkook muttered. “Legit or experimental?”
Minseok gave him an exaggerated eye roll, which told him everything he needed to know.
“Price is right at least?”
“A little on the sketch side. A couple old, nice watches we can pawn off after this. Did some research. They look legit. Wish it were more, but it’s technically enough.”
The alpha in question probably played rugby in college and ate live kittens in his free time by the looks of things, well over six feet tall and muscled like a horse, hair cropped close to his head, jaw like a slab of granite, one of those guys with abs so intense they looked more like a beer gut. Jungkook froze at the door.
The guy leered at him. “Hey. Pretty.”
“Has anyone told you the rules yet?”
“Hey,” the guy’s friend said. Fucking Charlie. One of those alphas that leaned on posture and bravado and was actually a total freak but would start sweating and yelping the minute you suggested that he be the one to bottom for once in his life. “Be nice. He’s new at this.”
“So, did you tell him how it works or not?”
“We went over it,” Charlie said, getting up so he had an inch or two of height on Jungkook.
Jungkook didn’t bother rising to the bait. He put his backpack down. “Okay, big guy. What’s your name?”
The guy stood up, and hormones rolled around the room. He one of those alphas who avoided showering to let his hormones gather and stink, not any more intimidating, just more oppressive.
“Are you clean?” Minseok squeaked.
“Got tested last week. I’m clean.”
“No, not like that,” Minseok said.
“My name is Wayne,” the alpha said, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think “of course it is.”
“So, who’s on their knees for me today?” He asked, chuckling.
Not even Charlie laughed.
“Me,” Jungkook said, “I guess, but if Charlie actually explained how this works, you should know it doesn’t matter. This is no submission, right?”
“I don’t do that shit,” Minseok said. “Do you?”
“No.” With one notable exception. “So no submission, which means it’s more your responsibility than mine to keep things equal. You back down first if things get tense.”
“I don’t back down for anyon—”
“No, that’s not how this works,” Jungkook said. “You have a formal obligation to, or we back out and blacklist both you and Charlie.”
“Yeah, Wayne, not funny,” Charlie said. “That’s a quote from his favorite movie, by the way,” he told Jungkook and Minseok. “He doesn’t mean it. He’ll back down. We talked about this.”
Minseok already had his shirt off, compact musculature with a cute face. “Why you staring?” Minseok giggled, punching Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Always a nice view,” Jungkook said. Wayne was laughing at Charlie’s scrawny, hairless chest. Charlie chuckled weakly back.
“He’s fine,” Minseok said uncomfortably. “Chill. That’s not what this is about.”
“Can any of you pansies take a joke?” Wayne said.
“Bro. Not right now,” Charlie said. “I’m sorry, guys. He was being chill till you both got here.”
That’s how it always worked though. Alphas could be perfectly reasonable until competitive hormones entered the room. Even the most well-intentioned alpha could turn into the biggest ass. Take Namjoon, for example.
Charlie seemed to be a little effective. After a firm word in the corner, Wayne came back a little shamefaced. “Sorry guys. I’m always like that when I meet new alphas.”
“Aren’t we all,” Charlie laughed.
“Sure,” Minseok muttered. “I guess I’m with Charlie. Jungkook is better with new alphas.”
“Whoa,” Wayne said, “How old are you?”
“It really doesn’t matter.”
“You sure he’s legal?” Wayne asked Charlie.
“Ha. You should have seen him when he was eighteen,” Charlie said. “Most of us were scared to touch him. Cutest little kid. Kinda brought out the creeps though.”
Wayne, happy that he wasn’t scared to touch Jungkook, or maybe to prove that he wasn’t like any of those pussies, put a giant paw on Jungkook’s waist, covering a huge amount of space, almost like half a belt. Delicious adrenaline spiked up through his chest. This could be fun. “Careful,” he murmured, but smirked. Wayne took that as permission to wrap his other enormous hand around Jungkook’s waist and slowly slide his hands upwards, grip widening with Jungkook’s chest.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Wayne said.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Little shit,” Wayne chuckled, and sat back on the bed, dragging Jungkook irresistibly with him with his massive limbs.
Jungkook tensed hard and braced against the bed, not settling fully on his lap, thighs already spread too wide over Wayne’s thick legs. He fought the urge to punch him and escape. “No manhandling. Don’t do that.”
Jungkook let himself settle, feeling jarringly tiny, and Wayne rocked his hips up against Jungkook’s ass through their pants. “Careful, big guy,” he said, hands braced on Wayne’s chest. Too much of a threat, apparently. Wayne tensed, hands gripping painfully at Jungkook’s ribs.
On any normal night, Jungkook would assume it was an accident and growl, and the other alpha would have the responsibility to apologize, and they’d laugh it off and keep going. If Jungkook growled at Wayne, he’d probably get his ribs broken. He struggled to stay still, ribs aching, forcing down his defensive instincts, and carefully took his hands off of Wayne’s chest, which just made the pain in his ribs worse. Wayne slowly, slowly relaxed, and Jungkook climbed off his lap and got his breath back.
“You’ve gotta…” he gasped, “I can’t be the only one holding back.”
“Right,” Wayne said, frustratingly casual, “Sorry.”
“That’s gonna bruise,” Minseok said worriedly.
Wayne behaved beautifully through fingering Jungkook open on his long, thick fingers, rough calluses adding a beautiful bite and stretch. “Fuck, you’re big,” Jungkook murmured.
“Like that?” Wayne said, pushing a little harder inside him. Jungkook grunted in annoyance.
“Depends on how you use it, I guess.”
“You like it,” Wayne said, sliding an arm around his waist like a boa constrictor. Jungkook’s breathing picked up. He wished he could turn his instincts off like they did around Namjoon. If his body didn’t care about submitting to Wayne, this would feel so good.
“Ready?” Wayne said, maneuvering Jungkook’s hips up over the tip of his dick, chest to chest sitting against the headboard. Jungkook felt doll-sized and on edge.
“Manhandling,” he said, “Remember what I said about manha—ah! Augh…”
Wayne had him tugged down to the hilt, fully seated his lap, and Jungkook gasped for breath as his ass throbbed, half painful, half delightful. He ducked down and dropped his forehead against Wayne’s arm to avoid getting too close to his neck, even if it did put him twisted awkwardly sideways and carelessly open to attack. Wayne smoothed his hand up Jungkook’s side soothingly, which would have been nice if he wasn’t an alpha, but just felt condescending.
“Fuck, how are you so patient?” Minseok gasped from where he lay on his elbows and knees beside them on the bed.
“My dick’s just too good,” Wayne said smugly, and started bouncing Jungkook in his lap.
“What, that don’t feel good?” Wayne murmured mockingly, and Jungkook couldn’t tell anymore what was his responsibility to accept, and what was really out of line.
“Bro, don’t—Charlie, stop for a second—bro, don’t treat him like that. He shouldn’t have to back down from you like that. That’s your job.”
Jungkook’s mind felt a little blank between the admittedly incredible feeling in his ass, and the instinctual need to put up a fight. Good for Minseok though.
“Dude, he’s fine.”
“He’s not fine. Jungkook. Hey! Jungkook!”
“I’m here,” Jungkook mumbled, sitting up. “I’m okay.” He braced himself back on Wayne’s chest, who growled, hands tightening again. “I’m letting you fuck me,” he snapped. “At least fucking let me put my hands on your shoulders, or is that just too much for you, princess? Back down like you’re fucking supposed to.”
“Jungkook,” Minseok gasped.
Wayne’s hands slowly released, eyes narrowed. Jungkook didn’t return the challenge. He got his knees under himself and started rolling his hips, closing his eyes and focusing on how good it felt. Wayne was big, not like Namjoon, but the stretch burned just the same way.
“See, fucker? He’s fine,” Wayne said, shoving the side of Minseok’s head. “Mind your own business.”
“Ah! Fuck off!”
Charlie kept thrusting erratically, a focused look on his face.
Wayne had Jungkook crushed up against his chest, dick working inside his ass, mouth close enough to his throat that it was taking everything he had not to break his nose and run. With his other hand, he kept playfully shoving at Minseok’s head like they were just two omegas off the street for him and Charlie to play with.
“Charlie, fucking do something about your idiot,” Minseok said, not quite breaking into his alpha voice.
“Hold on. I’m nearly done,” Charlie muttered.
Jungkook clicked on the growling, threatening alpha tone. “Everyone stop.”
The room froze. Jungkook yanked himself out of Wayne’s arms. “Charlie, let him go.”
Charlie cautiously let Minseok free. “Both of you back the fuck off,” Jungkook said.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Wayne said, puffing out his massive chest and standing up, boner still bouncing ridiculously against his hips. “Who made you the leader? I don’t have to do what you say.”
“The Facebook group has hundreds of alphas who fucking love me. If you’re smart, you’ll back off.”
“He’s not the whole city’s sugar baby for nothing,” Minseok grumbled, already pulling his clothes back on.
“Are we done here?” Jungkook said.
“I don’t think we’re fucking—”
“We’re done,” Charlie said, voice shaky. “Jungkook, please don’t—”
“If you bring a new guest into this, you have a duty to make sure he doesn’t disrespect anyone like that.”
“No way. If I don’t report it, I’m sure Minseok will.”
“Jungkook, please. I don’t want to be blacklisted. This is the only place I have.”
“Are you fucking begging?” Wayne asked.
“Shut up,” Jungkook and Charlie said at once.
“I’m reporting you or it’s an offense against me too if it happens again and we didn’t tell anyone—”
“It won’t happen again, I swear—”
“—and whether or not you get blacklisted for it is up to them.”
“Hey, Charlie, the fuck is happening?” Wayne said. Charlie shook his head and started yanking his clothes on. Jungkook picked up his jeans.
“Where the fuck are you two going?” Wayne said. “I paid for sex. Give me those watches back.”
“We gave you sex. You blew it. No pun intended.”
“I’m not gonna let a couple omega wannabees threaten me,” Wayne yelled. Jungkook turned around and punched him right in the mouth.
Fifteen minutes later, Minseok had Jungkook’s arm over his shoulder, limping down the last flight of stairs. “Thanks for all that back there,” he said, and sniffed wetly through his bloody nose. “Occupational hazard, right?”
Jungkook laughed softly, one bloody watch safe in his pocket. “Use your alpha voice next time,” Jungkook said. “I heard you try it. I know people say it only escalates fights, but it usually at least slows stuff down enough to get equal footing back.”
Minseok frowned, focused on getting down on solid ground again and out the door. “If I had done that, they probably would have grabbed me by the neck and tried to teach me a lesson.”
Jungkook shook his head. “They didn’t when I used it.”
“Yeah, but it’s you though,” Minseok said.
“Why would that make a difference?”
“Oh please. You don’t have to play nice. I trust you.”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Minseok gave him a long look under raised eyebrows. “You’re just…naturally really dominant, right?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say that.”
“You are,” Minseok said. “You smell…oh never mind. This is awkward. It’s hot, is all. That’s why alphas don’t tend to give you a lot of problems.”
“Yeah, because I let them fuck me.”
“You really think they’re usually as polite to the rest of us as they are to you? Situations like that one back there are a lot more common than you know. I deal with that all the time. In fact, can I write the review? I think you won’t be fair to Charlie.”
“I’ll be perfectly fair,” Jungkook sputtered.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” Minseok said, putting up his hands cautiously, and it was a little odd, how alphas tended to be exceptionally friendly to Jungkook like that, even though alphas liked to jump on any edge of superiority and exploit it. “You just smell…dangerous. Has no one ever told you that?”
Jungkook shook his head.
Minseok’s eyebrows pinched. He looked thoughtfully down at his phone. “Maybe it’s just me. I don’t think so though. I think I’ve heard that from other people in the community too. Anyway, my girlfriend is nearly here, and I’d offer to give you a ride, but she’s kinda…opportunistic and predatory,” he gave Jungkook a long look up and down, taking in the black eye, the gash on his chin, the way he clutched his sides, his bright red, slightly swollen cheek, the way he smelled like he’d just been fucked by three alphas. “You should probably find your own. Don’t try to get home alone.”
“I’m not stupid,” Jungkook said. All the aggressive alphas in the city would swoop down on him just for a thrill.
“You have a ride, right?”
Jungkook pulled out his phone and pulled up Jimin’s number, looking up and down the street.
“Don’t call Jimin,” Minseok said quickly.
“He’s an omega.”
“Have you seen the neighborhood we’re in?”
“He’ll be in a car.”
“Everyone knows Jimin always comes and picks you up. Someone might be waiting. I mean, it’s usually fine, but in this neighborhood? I’d be wary.”
Well that was all perfectly sensible. Jungkook hated pulling Jimin out of his safe apartment at this time of night anyway, especially just to drive all the way through Manhattan to pick up his sorry ass. Problem was, Jimin was the only friend who knew the details behind Jungkook’s habits.
Well, not the only one.
“See you in a while,” Minseok said, climbing into the passenger seat of a big, black truck, a suitable car for a couple of alphas. His tiny, terrifying girlfriend sat in the front seat, already smirking at his injuries. “You’ve got a ride?”
“I think so. I’ll message the group if it doesn’t work out. Bet half the page would be down here if I offered a free bj.”
Minseok chuckled. “See you around.”
He left Jungkook alone on the curb, shivering in his bloody clothes with his phone in his hand. He could probably walk home without getting jumped. Maybe. No doubt anyone in the AlphaNYC group would be up for picking him up, but they’d all want something, and Jungkook’s jaw hurt enough as it was.
Still, he regretted calling Namjoon as soon as a low, black car pulled up to the curb and the doors swung up instead of out. He popped up, eyes wide, hair mussed carelessly, his usual stylish semi-formal on. “Holy hell, Kook. What happened?”
“You should see the other guy,” Jungkook said weakly, already prepared to curl up on Namjoon’s lap and go safely to sleep.
Namjoon got near enough to smell all the alpha scents all over him, and Jungkook noticed with relief that he approached cautiously, careful not to stomp towards him head-on. “What the hell?” Namjoon said.
“Meet-up got out of hand,” Jungkook said with a shrug and a bit of a thankful smile. “We’re fine though.”
“Get in the car,” Namjoon said firmly, glancing around as if expecting to see lurkers coming to jump Jungkook at a moment’s notice. “It’s not safe.”
“That’s why I’m not walking home. Calm down. I can take care of myself. This is nothing.”
Namjoon took a huge breath through his nose as soon as the doors closed, and then let it carefully out of his mouth, hands flexing on the wheel. He had an alpha in the front seat of his car, fucked up and smelling like he’d already submitted to more than one alpha, and he might submit to another. They had the opposite of a protective instinct for situations like this, the instinct to take each other down. With anyone else, it would bother Jungkook, get him trying to combat the smells with overdone aggression, making himself prickly and threatening.
Instead, he relaxed into the low, leather seat, head thrown back and neck exposed, easily letting go of his guard completely. The submission sent a little shivering thrill through him. Namjoon stared incredulously.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Jungkook said softly, just happy to finally feel safe.
“Ah. Um. Where’s your apartment?”
Jungkook handed him the map pulled up on his phone. “Sorry to drag you out so late.”
“No, no. I was just leaving the studio. It’s fine.” He set the phone in the cup holder and pulled out. He’d pulled his sleeves up over his long forearms, lean muscles and tan skin catching the orange light coming in off the lights and street lamps. “I’m usually there pretty late. You can always call me for stuff like this.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Jungkook fiddled with the watch in his pocket. “Got invited out to…initiate a new alpha I guess. To the group. He turned out to be a real asshole.”
“Do you stay late at work often?”
“Almost always,” Namjoon said.
“Oh.” Jungkook looked nervously over. “Me too. I never see you.”
“Really? I see you sometimes.”
“Sneaky,” Jungkook said quietly. “You should come talk. It’s lonely.”
So un-alpha-like to admit to feelings like that. Namjoon’s hands tensed further on the wheel. “You don’t seem to want to see me,” he murmured.
Jungkook reached out carefully and touched Namjoon’s arm, tense and strong on the steering wheel. Blood tracked away from his fingers. “Oh fuck. Sorry. Crap. Do you have any napkins in here?”
Namjoon laughed a little. “Yeah. In the glove compartment.”
“No, you don’t. Nothing here.”
“Guess you’ll just have to lick it off.”
“Don’t tempt me. I will,” Jungkook muttered, blushing even as he said it.
Namjoon laughed, face dimpling adorably. “Seriously,” Jungkook said, poking around the smooth, well-hidden cup-holders and sleek siding. “This place is spotless. No napkins at all?”
“Staff cleans it out regularly. I guess they got my napkin stash.”
“Staff. Fuck. I can’t even afford the shittiest used cars, much less gas, insurance, parking, fucking cleaning staff,” Jungkook muttered, looking under the seats.
“Lick it off then,” Namjoon said softly, still watching the road. “Go on.” Jungkook watched him closely for a minute, waiting for him to retract it and laugh it off. When he didn’t, Jungkook leaned forward and flicked his tongue gently over his own blood on Namjoon’s arm, blood lacing with a little adrenaline thrill. Namjoon’s small gasp sounded gorgeously loud in the quiet car.
They missed a turn. The route recalibrated. Jungkook studied his face, and when it remained passively turned on but not aggressive or freaked out, he leaned closer and delicately licked higher, away from any blood till he got to the sensitive inner seam of Namjoon’s elbow. eyeing the small swell in the front of Namjoon’s pants.
Namjoon nearly whacked him right in the bruises as he turned the corner quickly out of a green light. “Sorry,” he murmured. “You can keep going if you want.”
“Kinda hurts, honestly,” Jungkook said, worried about the dazed hum over his brain, “Would you mind if I stopped?”
“Am I still bloody?”
Jungkook shivered, looking down at the new bloody streaks from his chin that lined the side of Namjoon’s arms. “Yes,” he murmured.
Jungkook, trembling slightly, leaned in again, Namjoon’s scent heavy and close in his nose, and licked slowly along the tangy tracks of his own blood. Namjoon’s skin tasted like the way he smelled, sweet, heavy, and dangerous, and Jungkook muffled a tiny groan against him. Namjoon drove steadily, even as Jungkook carefully, slowly sucked a dark spot into the soft, lighter skin just above his elbow.
It took a minute to focus when they finally got to the apartment, both of their pheromones filling the car like laughing gas and hazy euphoria trickling through the cracks of Jungkook’s head. He managed to get out of the car and immediately took a knee on the cement while his head spun. Namjoon came over and helped him up, wrapped his warm arms around his waist again.
“Got roommates who can take care of you?” Namjoon murmured.
“Yeah. You leaving me here?”
“Gotta get home. It’s late.”
Jungkook nuzzled against Namjoon’s cheek, head still fuzzy, and Namjoon chuckled and rocked him.
“I’ve gotten blood all over you now. Sorry.”
“Wanna lick that up too?” Namjoon laughed.
Jungkook blushed and didn’t answer.
“Maybe another time,” Namjoon said, face so close, eyes so soft. Jungkook wished he could just kiss him, but every rejection beat his heart further black and blue, so he hung back. Namjoon pushed him towards his door and waited patiently by his car till Jungkook went inside.
“Do I smell dangerous,” Jungkook asked when Jimin got back from the library café with three mochas. “Also, you know I like it straight black, Jimin.”
Jimin sighed through his nose and slapped two down in front of where Jungkook sat with Taehyung wrapped around his back, forcing him to the edge of the booth bench in the library study room. “I paid for it, so you’re getting sugar.”
“No good for my diet,” Jungkook said.
“Diet?” Taehyung snickered. He lifted Jungkook’s shirt almost up to his neck and pet down his chest. Jungkook blushed and hoped no one on the main floor was watching through the glass wall. Jimin and Taehyung hadn’t gone to school there in years, but they both had a day off and decided to come harass Jungkook as he studied for his midterms.
“If I ate just anything I wouldn’t be able to keep these abs,” he said. “They’re important to me. I get income from how good I look.”
“At the studio?”
“You’re a hooker? A stripper? Camboy?”
“Somehow all of those and none of them.”
“The fuck have I been missing?” Taehyung breathed against the back of his neck. “Where?”
“Nowhere you would be able to find. Sorry, Tae. It’s legitimately nothing personal. I wouldn’t strip for Jimin either.”
“I mean, you have before, but not for money,” Jimin said.
“But Jimin doesn’t like alphas. It’s not the same thing.”
“I only like alphas,” Jungkook muttered.
Taehyung’s legs squeezed around Jungkook’s waist. His fingers gripped the fading bruises on his ribs. “Perfect,” he breathed. “Can we make a make a marriage pact?”
“I already have one with Jimin,” Jungkook said, “And you never answered my question. Do I smell dangerous?”
“Dangerous like how? Dangerous like clears a room with one fart dangerous?” Taehyung asked.
“No,” Jimin said, “Dangerous like even alphas years older than him and bigger than him won’t fuck with him. Yes, you smell dangerous. That’s why omegas are obsessed with you, especially the parasite clinging to your back.”
Taehyung giggled cheerfully.
“Honestly, you didn’t know?” Jimin said, “I always assumed you didn’t talk about that because you’re humble and polite and all those good things, but you’re just so dense that you didn’t know?”
“Hey,” Jungkook muttered, “Rude.”
“Ever wonder why Yoongi and Namjoon treated you like an equal even though you’re an undergrad intern that’s still years younger than them?”
“…Because they liked me?”
“Yeah, but why would they just like you?”
Jungkook stared forlornly at his notebooks.
“Oh fuck. I didn’t mean it that way, Jungkook. They’re just famous producers and you’re an undergrad music student. They’re years older than you. That’s not exactly automatically equal footing. You know how alphas get with an authoritative edge like that.”
“They like you though.”
“They wanted to fuck me. It’s different. Your smell just stands out, you know?”
No wonder two of the most gorgeous omegas he’d ever met went out of their way to rub themselves all over him. He relaxed back against Taehyung’s chest, still lost in thought, and saw a pair of alphas walking past, looking resentfully at Jungkook’s company but respectfully avoiding his gaze. He was pretty sure those were both associate professors, or at least grad students.
Taehyung pinched his nipple and rolled it between his fingers. Jungkook’s breath hitched a little.
“Are you honestly surprised?” Jimin asked.
“Well, I’m used to being a submissive failure who likes omegas ordering him around and whose parents threw him out because he wasn’t the strong, perfect alpha they wanted.”
“Oh, fuck, you’ve got issues and you’re so perfect,” Taehyung muttered against the side of his neck, still working at his nipples.
“Stop that,” Jimin said, kicking him.
“But he likes it,” Taehyung said, just as Jungkook’s head flopped back on Taehyung’s shoulder, submission coming easy with the omega’s sweet smell over his shoulder. That’s what alphas were supposed to do. When an omega touched him, he held still and let them. “We’re making the whole library jealous,” Taehyung purred.
“I need to…study…”
“Give it up, Tae. Honey’s got his eyes on a big, strong alpha.”
“Fuck that’s so hot. Can I watch?”
“I’m sure he’d like that,” Jungkook groaned, loving the long fingers, the deep rumble of Taehyung’s voice against his back.
“That’s a no,” Jimin sighed. “Tae, give it up.”
“I don’t mind,” Jungkook said weakly. Taehyung’s lips gently brushed against his neck and a shiver rippled through his whole body.
Jimin grabbed his chin and yanked him forward.
“Right. Right. Library. Sorry. Tae, please not now.”
“Sorry, baby,” Taehyung said, retreating. Jungkook glanced out the glass wall. Nobody turned their way. Good.
“I just really wanna kiss his lips,” Taehyung said, “It’s been so long since I kissed someone.”
“Same,” Jungkook muttered. “No one wants to kiss me these days either.”
“You have sex all the time though,” Jimin said.
“Who wouldn’t kiss you?” Taehyung gasped.
“Big, strong alpha,” Jimin said sagely. “Big, smart, talented, kind, socially conscious, gentle, nerdy alpha.”
“Not Namjoon,” Taehyung gasped.
“I didn’t say anything,” Jimin said as Jungkook glared.
“You’re a terrible best friend,” Jungkook muttered.
“Oh fuck, I ship it so hard,” Taehyung said. “I’ve been trying to jump on that dick for years. He likes alphas though? No fucking wonder I haven’t had any luck.”
“That’s the thing. He didn’t like alphas and then we fucked because he and Yoongi were curious and now he seems interested but he won’t kiss me.”
“Kook, if you get a sugar daddy before me…”
“He’s already got literally dozens,” Jimin said. “He’s at the beck and call of dozens of the city’s richest alphas.”
“I hate you,” Taehyung said, thighs tightening around Jungkook’s waist. Jungkook swept Taehyung’s loose pants up his legs and ran his fingers down the undersides of Taehyung’s calves to get him melting against his back. “You, Yoongi, and Namjoon though,” Taehyung mumbled against his shoulder as he squirmed with delight. “That’s so hot.”
“It was, yeah. Yoongi’s not cut out for it though. He pussied out the minute Namjoon got his dick in my ass.”
“He’s such an omega-chaser,” Taehyung said. “You can’t honestly expect him to like fucking with alphas. I can see Namjoon being into power struggles though.”
“Not really a struggle with us,” Jungkook said. “I just let him take it. I don’t even care. It feels so good.”
Taehyung smelt slick and delicious against Jungkook’s back, wet and wanting, and Jungkook sighed and relaxed into the soft omega pheromones perfuming the study room. Most alphas would be hazy with lust by this point, but Jungkook just felt safe. Jimin wrinkled his nose. “I so ship it though,” Taehyung said. “Even though I wish Namjoon was my sugar daddy and not yours.”
“He’s not my—”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m trying to be nice here. If I can do anything to help you get your man, just let me know.”
“What on earth would I have you do?” Jungkook laughed.
“I wonder if you could…like…make him jealous,” Jungkook said, ten minutes into the studio’s Holiday Party. The studio owner had rented out a hotel ballroom for all the various companies and offices that used his building, and young, hot, talented people filled the room in a full array of fashions and statements, half careful class and half the debouched irreverence that flourished in entertainment. A couple guys in the corner wore hoodies and jeans pricier than the designer suits on the executives. The world was eighty percent betas, but this was an industry of extremes and betas made up a rare minority, observing passively while the big room filled up with sex, enough to make anyone a little stupid.
Namjoon wore all black, a deep V-neck and satin suit-jacket and shiny leather shoes. He sat in a place of honor by the tall windows, chatting with all the biggest artists. A steady stream of omegas flit past and tried to catch his eye.
In exchange for his own outfit, Jungkook had spent a whole weekend tied to some wall-street alpha’s bed and pushing the limits of how much he could submit in little bits and pieces, and he still felt half-ashamed to be seen there. The other half of him suddenly felt almost bold enough to walk across the room and sit in Namjoon’s lap in front of everyone.
“Make him jealous?” Taehyung said, leaning over and fixing minute details to Jungkook’s hair, coifed up by Jimin hours before the party.
“I mean, I understand if you’d rather flirt with other people,” Jungkook said.
“People will flirt with me anyway,” Taehyung said. “It’s me.” He drew eyes from all over the room in his shiny, sheer blouse and photo-perfect makeup. “I’m perfectly happy to make Namjoon jealous for you. Jimin, you in?”
“Dude, anything to get the Angelina Jolie wannabe over there off my back.” He jerked his head at a tall woman in the corner, cut like a super hero and gazing possessively at Jimin.
“Oh fuck,” Jungkook groaned, “Forget Namjoon. Can she take me home?”
“She’s into discipline,” Jimin said. Jungkook’s nerves had a little shock, but not entirely in a bad way.
“Maybe you shouldn’t help me make Namjoon jealous,” Jungkook said. “I think if she tried to challenge me I’d just get on my knees and start begging.”
“Useless,” Jimin muttered. Taehyung had already hopped out of his chair and sat down beside Jungkook. He leaned his elbow against his shoulder, sliding in close, one leg propped up on his lap.
“Let’s do shots,” he murmured, breath ghosting over Jungkook’s face. Jungkook’s two gorgeous omegas followed on his heels up to the bar and Jimin licked salt off the back of Taehyung’s neck while what seemed like half the room stared, and Jungkook tried not to turn violently red. Namjoon still wasn’t looking.
“Please chill,” he said afterwards, letting Jimin finish his martini because he knew his own low tolerance and it tasted like crap anyway. “We can make him jealous without making a spectacle.”
Namjoon had a pretty girl with a blond pixie cut and barely any clothes on practically in his lap.
“Ugh. Or not.”
“I’m hotter than her,” Taehyung said dismissively, shirt falling carelessly off one thin shoulder. One older man with an impressive suit over his beer gut came up to chat, learned they were only interns and not artists, and walked away after a quick five minutes, very confused.
Someone else walked up and offered Taehyung a modelling gig with a name even Jungkook had heard of. Taehyung made Jungkook buy him a congratulatory drink and hung onto Jungkook’s arm, giggling happily, cheeks slowly flushing with alcohol.
“You know, it’s really not fair,” Yoongi said, coming up and falling onto the couch next to them. “I just heard someone asking if you two were up for rent.” Taehyung wiggled off Jungkook’s lap and fell onto Yoongi’s. “That’s better,” Yoongi sighed, pressing a small kiss to Taehyung’s long neck, who giggled drunkenly and went limp.
“What’s not fair about it?” Jimin asked, practically hiding behind Jungkook as alphas rotated slowly around them, looking for an opportunity to swoop in and sweep Jimin off his feet.
“Jungkook gets the two prettiest omegas in the room and the rest of us get jack shit. Also that the fucking interns show up looking like high-end escorts.”
“Always my goal,” Taehyung purred.
“I know all three of you are broke. How did you get those clothes?”
“Sexual favors,” Taehyung said.
“Same,” Jungkook agreed.
“I just…borrowed Taehyung’s clothes,” Jimin said. “They’re a bit big on me.”
“Looks good,” Yoongi said. “Some of the alphas in my company have a ranking list of hottest omegas, and a point system depending on who you bang, which fucking sucks, by the way. I’m not taking part. I just figured I’d come over here and warn you both because you’re near the top. Don’t go home with anyone here tonight.”
“Not even discount Angelina Jolie?” Taehyung said.
Yoongi looked up. “I think she’s fine. Go for it. Taehyung, your lipstick is nearly rubbed off.”
“Oh! Thanks, boo.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “Help me out?”
“I’m getting makeup on your shoulder,” Jimin muttered from somewhere back in the couch cushions, clinging to his elbow with both hands. “I promise I’ll get it cleaned later.”
“I don’t mind,” Jungkook said softly. “They’re only clothes.” Jimin curled around Jungkook’s side, scanning the crowd.
“The girl stuck all over Namjoon is hella hot,” he murmured. “I think she noticed me staring. Can we go over there?”
“I don’t want to. That’s too obvious. Maybe make Yoongi bring him over?”
Namjoon came on his own, a flute of champagne hanging carelessly from one hand, and the gorgeous, pixie-like girl hanging from the other, halfway between a flapper and a cherub and managing to look half his height. “You four look cuddly.” His eyes may have lingered on Jungkook and Jimin a bit longer as Jimin drunkenly clutched Jungkook’s arm and snuggled closer. “You interns should be talking to people,” Namjoon said. “Good place to make connections.”
“You’re making some pretty nice connections,” Jimin said, staring at the blond girl.
She giggled and hid behind Namjoon’s arm. Jimin’s face went a little soft, sex fading into friendliness.
“I’d rather spend time in Jungkook’s lap,” Taehyung said. “He’s the hottest alpha in the room.”
“Also literally the youngest. He’s the only person in the whole room who got carded at the bar,” Yoongi said. “And he’s the most broke.”
“Why do you think I’m in your lap now?” Taehyung said. “You want me to stay? Buy me a drink, Daddy.”
“Jungkook’s lap is pretty nice,” Jimin said. “You should try it out, Namjoon.”
Namjoon stammered as his omega giggled again. Party Jimin had always been a force to be reckoned with.
“Mine’s pretty nice too,” Jimin said. “Wanna come try it out?”
“I don’t think I’d fit,” Namjoon said. “Would you like to try, Estel?”
The tiny girl bounced onto Jimin’s lap, delicate legs thrown across Jungkook’s.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jimin murmured, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. She just seemed happy to be given any kind of attention, but scratched Jimin’s hair in an almost motherly way to make him smile.
“You look like such a stud,” Namjoon said to Jungkook who sat in the middle of a pile of gorgeous, young omegas.
“I’m just part of the buffet,” Jungkook said, drink making him bold. “Take your pick.”
Namjoon wordlessly declined, but he looked hesitant and took a seat nearby, within range to talk to Yoongi. Taehyung went back to Jungkook, looking like a mess sprawled out on the couch with his long limbs everywhere. Jungkook downed another drink, drowning in the scent of omega and Namjoon’s dark gaze on him.
Taehyung started pressing teasing little kisses from his jaw all the way up to his ear, mouthing sleepily at the skin. On their other side, Jimin pulled Estel into a hot, wet, drunk, open-mouthed kiss that must have felt like heaven from the way her toes curled. The debauched interns on the couch by the bar, and Jungkook the alpha in the center. He’d be worried about his job, but it was likely to get him more respect down the line instead of less, and likely to get more interest in the other three when people would otherwise pay them no attention. Good networking as the centerpiece sex objects. How it paid to be beautiful.
And then Jungkook drank one too many cocktails and saw the room through a veil of alcohol. Jimin was pressing Estel back against Namjoon’s broad chest, his small hands cradling her cheeks. She kissed back with such a wide smile, rubbing his back sweetly. They looked as likely to go home and cook dinner together as they were to fuck wildly in a bathroom stall. Namjoon stood protectively over them as all the alphas slobbered on themselves.
Taehyung was a damn good actor when he wanted to be, tugging desperately on Jungkook’s shirt and squirming closer. His lips finally found Jungkook’s, so sweet and gentle, nothing like the darker, muskier taste of alphas, and Jungkook held him close by the dip of his waist, the smooth, plump curve of his ass, and enjoyed the taste. Namjoon walked away.
Alcohol faded the evening into a haze of want, of Taehyung’s soft lips along his jaw, his tongue in his mouth, hot breath over his teeth, Namjoon’s dark eyes, their gaze meeting over the heads of the crowd, over Jimin and his little pixie.
This wasn’t so bad, really, the feeling of someone else laying back against his arms, throwing back his neck and demanding that Jungkook take care of him. It wasn’t so bad to have alphas pass so close to his back that his neck prickled and forced growls out from deep in his chest that had Taehyung whining and sighing right into his ear. The aggression burned like whiskey, a rush of power right down his throat.
“You guys need a ride home?” Namjoon said as the party thinned out and Jungkook got to be sober enough to realize that Taehyung’s gaze kept cutting to Yoongi’s scowl, even as Jungkook couldn’t tear his attention from Namjoon. The power buzz left him wrung out and guilty as the drinks faded.
“We’re sharing an Uber, I think,” he said, “unless you’ve got a better plan.”
Yoongi had been their designated driver. He put Taehyung in his front seat while Jimin sat Estel on his lap in the back, and Namjoon jammed Jungkook in the middle.
Jungkook pressed lightly up against Namjoon in the small backseat from his shoulder down to his knee, got a good, deep breath of alpha, and remembered why omegas just didn’t cut it for him.
“Drop Jimin and Estel off with me,” Namjoon said, and Jimin shot him a suspicious but grateful look. Jimin’s dorm wasn’t exactly set up for entertaining princesses.
Namjoon’s knees spread a little, reaching into Jungkook’s space, and Jungkook gave him a little nudge, just to let him know. Namjoon didn’t move. When Jungkook looked, he stared unreadably back at Jungkook’s face, resting against the window. Jungkook slung a thigh over Namjoon’s, knowing how heavy and broad it would feel, pressing down to let Namjoon feel the threatening force behind it.
“Fuck, you guys,” Taehyung said, throwing his head back against the front headrest and breathing in. “Calm down. All four of you.”
Jimin moaned softly. He and Estel clutched each other close, hands gentle and sweet, hardly able to breathe through their giggles. Their mixed scents and the visual was enough to get Jungkook and Namjoon twitching in their seats.
Namjoon’s hand landed heavily on the inside of Jungkook’s knee and swept upwards along the inner seam of his pants. Yoongi’s knuckles whitened on the wheel. Taehyung’s head hit the window as he threw it back, palming the front of his own pants.
“Wait,” Jungkook said quietly, knowing Yoongi’s home was in the opposite direction of the place he wanted to go. “I can’t afford the cab trip from your place to mine. Bought too many drinks.”
“Guess you’re walking home,” Namjoon said.
“I’m serious. Yoongi’s got Taehyung. I don’t want to take him on a thirty-minute detour.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hand rubbing circles on his inner thigh again.
Jungkook sat still in his seat, wishing he knew what that meant and not wanting to sound worried and desperate enough to ask. After ages of sitting silently in the dark, letting his head fog over as Namjoon traced hypnotizing circles around his inner thigh, they pulled up outside of Namjoon’s gorgeous apartment building on Park Avenue. Jimin and Estel stumbled out, breathless and excited, staring up at the tower with city lights gleaming on their wide eyes.
“Namjoon,” Jungkook said, also getting out, “Are you serious?”
“Want to come up?” he asked.
“What if I don’t?” Jungkook said softly.
“I’ll pay for a taxi,” Namjoon said, stepping away from the car and shutting the door. “But I doubt I’ll have to.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes and shut the door.
“You’re a shit,” he said, rushing through the front door behind him, back into the gloriously polished front lobby. Jimin and Estel had forgotten they existed, tipping around on their toes, unwilling to unglue their lips. The concierge gave Namjoon a smile and greeting, showing no surprise at his company, and they rode the elevator up in a charged silence, cut only by Estel and Jimin’s small giggles, their intoxicating scents. Namjoon finally turned and actually looked at him, shaking with nervous energy on the other side of the elevator. He kept blinking a dazed expression from his eyes. The omegas would have much more of an effect on him, of course.
“You look good. Who did your hair?”
“Jimin,” he said. “Tae did my makeup.”
“Oh, no wonder your eyes look so…I don’t know.”
“You go from smooth as fuck to awkward real fast.”
Namjoon laughed, looking down at his shiny shoes. “I’m a little…yeah. Where’d you get that outfit?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Namjoon nodded slowly, eyes lingering on Jungkook’s wine-red button-up, the way it hugged his waist when he slouched against the side of the elevator. “Makes me want to dress you up and take you out.”
“You look good too,” Jungkook said, “But you always do.”
“I know,” Namjoon said, and then ducked his head shyly and laughed at himself.
Estel and Jimin watched with identical looks of excitement, standing forehead to forehead with her on her tip-toes and him leaning way down to meet her.
The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into his front hall. “Third door on the right at the end of the hall, supplies in the bedside table, and don’t forget to drink plenty of water,” Namjoon told Jimin and Estel, and watched them skitter away with a small sigh of regret before turning his dark gaze on Jungkook.
“Drink?” he asked, already slipping his jacket off. His shirt’s neckline was daringly wide for an alpha.
“Just water,” Jungkook said, gravitating to Namjoon’s broad back and long arms. “Coming up behind you,” he warned, and wrapped his arms gently around Namjoon’s waist as Namjoon tensed and clutched the counter, heart thundering against Jungkook’s ear. He stood very still, breathing in Namjoon’s stressed scent, feeling his breath slow against his cheek.
“Wow. Fuck,” Namjoon whispered.
“Does it feel good? When you let it happen?” Jungkook said. “It’s okay if it doesn’t.”
“Can’t tell,” Namjoon said, still tense. “Feels like it might be good. Do you get this every time?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of a buzz,” Jungkook said. He kissed the base of Namjoon’s neck, right over the top knob of his spine, and Namjoon hissed in a sharp breath and jerked forward. Jungkook let him go and stepped back quickly, but Namjoon turned and followed, backing him right up against the tall, spotless cabinets and finally, finally sliding his lips up against Jungkook’s.
“You and Taehyung looked so hot,” he breathed against Jungkook’s lips between careful, dry kisses that had Jungkook desperately trying to provoke more, head spinning. “Couldn’t stand it.”
Jungkook grasped the front of his shirt and moaned, kissing back pleadingly, not caring how messy and desperate he looked. He let Namjoon pull his hair, shove his shoulders back, and pin him against the cabinets, head spiraling deeper and deeper with each passing second. His lips fell open and the kiss grew slow and dirty. The buzz sank in his head until Namjoon’s lips brushed under his chin, and his vision blurred.
“Hold on, Namjoon. Wait.”
Namjoon backed off, still crowded into his space and breathing hard, but with a little distance between their lips.
“Slow down. It’s a lot. This didn’t work out last time. We can’t just dive in.”
Namjoon nodded breathlessly, pheromones pouring off him in distracting waves. Jungkook wanted to drop to his knees and get throat-fucked against the cabinets, but he took a deep breath and tried to reel his brain back in.
“I forgot your water,” Namjoon muttered. “Sorry.” He grabbed a tall glass as Jungkook leaned on the counter and breathed.
“Can we try and keep it a little more equal?” Jungkook said. “There’s usually this whole…etiquette thing to keep anyone from feeling threatened or getting an upper hand. That might feel safer for me, you know?”
“Oh fuck. Yeah, sure. You didn’t feel safe?”
“Well no. That’s not it. It was really good last time. Kinda perfect, actually, until afterwards. It was just...a lot. I was in over my head. Kinda scary, you know? I have a weird reaction to you that I don’t know how to deal with, so can we just try to be normal for now?”
“Okay. Normal,” Namjoon said, eyes wide as he stared blankly at his own kitchen counter. “What’s normal?”
“Just don’t let yourself take control, I guess,” Jungkook said. “Back down whether you think it’s your job or not.”
“You’ll do the same, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.” Or he’d force himself to fight back a little and not outright encourage Namjoon to take everything.
Namjoon stepped up as Jungkook drank his water and tugged the shirt out of his belt. “Little impatient?” Jungkook said.
“Let me at you,” Namjoon said, tugging his buttons open one by one.
“Let’s get to the bedroom first at least.”
Namjoon pulled him gently out of the kitchen and down the hall by the open front of his shirt, buttons gaping open. Jungkook paused in the living room, caught by the glimmer of the city lights. He hadn’t ever seen the apartment in daylight, airplane height above the city, clouds just overhead. Maybe he’d wake up to that tomorrow if everything went right.
“You don’t just want me for my apartment, do you?” Namjoon murmured.
“And go to all this trouble?” Jungkook said. “Are you even worth it?”
“Hey now. Rude.”
Down the hallway came the dim smell and sound of two omegas shrieking with giggles, little moans interspersed into it. “She’s sweet,” Namjoon said. “I hope she and Jimin can make it work.”
“I wouldn’t worry. Jimin’s really good at sex with other omegas.”
“I don’t mean sex,” Namjoon said. “I meant after.”
“Oh,” Jungkook sighed, “Well, it’s never worked for him before, but he’s only twenty-two. There’s time.”
Namjoon’s bedroom was just as he remembered it, hotel-room flawless and twice as comfortable. He pulled Jungkook’s blazer and shirt off seconds after they walked in the door, and Jungkook lay down across his bed in a happy sprawl, stretching out and pushing his ass up a little higher. The bed sunk behind him and little kisses landed up his spine, leaving a buzz across his skin. As they got to his neck, Jungkook rolled over and pulled Namjoon’s lips down against his again.
He shouldn’t be on his back for him. That would matter with someone else. He sat up. Namjoon backed him up against the headboard, and Jungkook momentarily forgot about holding his ground again, just sinking back and letting Namjoon cradle his cheek and kiss down his jaw to his ear.
“You’ve gotta…let me lead a little,” he groaned as Namjoon sucked his piercings into his mouth.
“Right. Sorry. I’ll…” Namjoon back off a few inches and made Jungkook come get it, take back a little control. “There you go,” he said. Jungkook bit his lip sharply and loved the way his hands tightened aggressively on Jungkook’s arms.
But no. He couldn’t have that. Namjoon let go quickly and Jungkook swallowed back a whine, stopped himself from asking to be held down.
“I don’t notice sometimes,” Namjoon said. “I have a hard time noticing. You have to tell me.”
“I don’t notice either,” Jungkook said, “Just feels good. I’m trying.”
“Pants,” Namjoon murmured.
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, yanking Namjoon’s pants open.
“I meant yours,” Namjoon chuckled as Jungkook struggled with his belt, pushing a little to guide him back so he could drop to his elbows and nose at the bulge in his briefs.
“Oh. Sorry. Fuck, these are short.”
“Couldn’t have…lines in my slacks…” Namjoon said, flushing red.
“No judging. Wait till you see mine.”
Jungkook could practically feel Namjoon’s rising flush when Jungkook kneeled on the sheets in what were basically panties, tiny little low-rise briefs in a silky red that matched his shirt. “The same woman who bought me this outfit said I should wear these. I didn’t wanna…say no.”
“What did you do for that outfit?”
“You know how I took last weekend off of work? Well…never mind, actually. I really don’t want to tell you.”
Namjoon snapped the band of Jungkook’s briefs over his hard-on, and Jungkook jolted, head fuzzing a little. His chin dropped back before he realized he’d stopped using all the muscles in his neck, and Namjoon dove in, shoving him backwards, a hand wrapped all the way around one side of his neck, and his mouth against the other. All the tension and fight left him at once, and he let Namjoon push him back to the blankets and pin him down.
“Fuck. Sorry. Fuck,” Namjoon said, backing up with a wild look in his eyes, still staring at Jungkook’s bared neck. “Couldn’t help it. I’m really sorry.”
“’S okay. You’re new at this,” Jungkook moaned, trying to get the room to stop spinning. He was on his back again. He rolled sluggishly sideways and sat up, heart pounding with leftover instinctual fear, such a good buzz. Such a shitty excuse for an alpha. It was one thing to be okay with submitting to Namjoon and another thing to so badly want it.
“Are you okay? Do we keep going?”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. It’s fine. Seriously. Can I—lube?”
Namjoon walked over to his dresser and dug the lube out of his top drawer. Jungkook caught it and Namjoon crawled slowly up from the edge of the bed as Jungkook spread his knees on the sheets and reached behind himself with two slick fingers.
“How often do you do this?”
“What, finger myself or hook up with alphas?”
Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Both.”
A smirk flickered at the edge of Namjoon’s mouth. He teased the head of Jungkook’s cock with his long fingers. He looked a little small next to Namjoon’s big hand, and Jungkook couldn’t help the wanting, shameful tremor in his fingertips. “What’s too much for you, babe?”
“Fuck alphas almost every week. Finger myself...a lot more.”
Namjoon raised his hand to show pre-cum sticky fingers, and wrapped his lips around them. “That is a lot,” he muttered, muffled around his fingertips. Jungkook’s hips rocked shyly back on his own fingers. “Gotten pretty good at it?”
Jungkook blushed and nodded.
“Show me,” Namjoon said, lips so close now, eyes so dark and fond.
Jungkook sat back against the wall before he accidentally begged Namjoon to fuck him into the floor, knees spread wide. Namjoon sat right there between them, hands on Jungkook’s thighs, kingly with the window framing him from behind. Jungkook shivered and worked his fingers back into himself from the front. He wasn’t quite on his back in this position, but it was close enough, and Namjoon’s proximity, the small aggressive notes to his scent, had Jungkook’s heart beating a little faster, itching to get away but exhilarated to stay close.
Jungkook rolled his balls gently in his other hand, holding them out of the way so Namjoon could enjoy the view. His cock was a little smaller than Namjoon’s, a little shorter and less girthy, and he loved it a little, loved the way it made him blush and pull his knees in just a little. “You like this?” he asked.
“So fucking much,” he said, looking about ready to drool on Jungkook’s dick as he gazed down. He breathed in deep through his nose, Jungkook’s scent coming strong off his crotch, and his dick visibly kicked. “You look…”
“Like an omega, right?” Jungkook moaned, “Cause I shave?”
“Fuck,” Namjoon murmured, hands tightening painfully on the skin of his thighs. The aggressive scent built, something that usually put Jungkook on edge, had him shutting down and scrambling away, growling back, but it was Namjoon. He let it fizzle over him, body sinking further back against the cushions.
“Wanna help?” he murmured quietly, feeling a little like he was offering himself up to be eaten alive. Namjoon dropped down onto the sheets, looking like he was ready to make that quite literal. “Namjoon, wait. That’s not very—we don’t do that often. Haven’t showered in hours. Are you sure you want to—ohfuckohmygod.”
Namjoon lifted his mouth, lips already slick with lube. “Not too bad,” he said, low and gravelly like some of his alpha tone was trying to slip in. “Just tastes like lube. And you. Only like, a lot. I like it.”
“That’s the problem because the intensity of the scent will—hold on. You like the way I taste?”
Namjoon playfully bit the inside of his thigh, and Jungkook watched with embarrassment as his dick flexed hard in his blurry vision. Namjoon’s long, long fingers slid up inside Jungkook’s ass. “So good,” he murmured, licking over the bite. Jungkook fought down the buzz, shaking himself, and then Namjoon’s tongue teased gently at his rim around his fingers, and all rational thought got dashed to pieces by the flood of pleasure in his head.
Namjoon had wonderful lips. Jungkook felt caught underwater, unable to catch his senses. He should be alarmed. This was definitely too far, right? His dick flexed pleadingly, hardly touched yet.
Namjoon rolled him over and he sprawled on his chest across the pillows, cheek jammed against the padded wall, propped unevenly up on his knees as Namjoon’s hot tongue slid back up his crack and flicked at the rim. His brain took a few seconds to turn right-side up again.
How many years had it been since Jungkook let anyone rim him? He remembered someone’s mouth on him back when he first started, the flood of terror. He might have hit someone. That had been back when his newness and youth, his shyness, had everyone trying to force him into submission.
“More, Namjoon. Please—fuck. please. Just—oh god...”
He’d meant to say stop.
There wasn’t enough air in the room.
Namjoon’s hands gripped a little harder, he breathed a little deeper. “Fuck, Kook. The way you smell…” Namjoon said, and Jungkook loved and hated the way his spine gave out and he melted into the bed. Namjoon abruptly rolled him over again, manhandling him like a doll, and Jungkook gasped and arched.
“Oh shit,” Namjoon said, pulling his hands off. “Sorry—”
“Don’t stop! Please! Fuck, don’t stop!”
Namjoon surged forward, pinning his legs in his big hands, forcing them back and back until they burned. Jungkook felt small, used, and overwhelmed. The blunt head of his cock pressed hard to his entrance, then slid easily in like Jungkook was made for this, getting fucked on his back, weak, open, easy.
Namjoon sat very still for a moment, panting right against Jungkook’s neck, white-hot and terrifying, and Jungkook felt so full, so helpless, so out in the open and shameful, near painful shudders ripping through his body, head rocking with the force of his submission. Then Namjoon pulled out and backed off, letting Jungkook’s legs down. “N-no Nam-come back, plea-uh-ugh-please—why—what? Don’t s-stop…”
Namjoon’s hands turned him gently on his side, and then backed off. Jungkook curled into himself, sobbing hard.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I c—”
He paused and waited for Jungkook’s full-voiced wails to subside.
“I tried. I’m sorry. I fucked up,” Namjoon said, getting cautiously closer and resting a gentle hand on his arm. “Please stop crying. I’ll start crying too.”
Jungkook pulled a pillow to his face to cry desperately into that, trying to tamp it down, embarrassment coming in as the frantic buzz faded. He’d be lucky if Namjoon didn’t kick him out. He’d be lucky if Namjoon ever managed to treat him like an equal again.
“Do you need anything? Water? Fuckin—tea? I don’t know.”
“Water?” Jungkook croaked.
“Water. Yeah. I’ll be right back.”
Jungkook rolled over onto his back, still painfully hard and frustrated, and blinked at the high ceilings, taking deep breathes and letting the scent of Namjoon’s room calm him. There were a couple voices in the hallway. The door opened and Jimin stuck his face through, looking a little panicked.
“I’m fine,” Jungkook croaked, knowing he looked a mess with tear-stained cheeks and lube streaked all over his body, dick wilting fast. “You can go back to Estel.”
He gave Jungkook a thumbs-up and disappeared.
“Water,” Namjoon said, coming back in with a pair of sweats on.
Jungkook tried to sit up and fell back, dizzy. “I’m so sorry. I’m not this much of a mess, like, ever. I don’t know what happened.”
“No no. My fault. It’s okay. You didn’t want any submission and I kinda…took over. It’s just really hard to back down. I promise I’m trying.” He sat down on the bed, scowling at his hands. “Your scent just drives me crazy. It’s the dominance thing. I’m trying to shut it down.”
“Maybe I should have just let you do it,” Jungkook said weakly. “It was so good the first time.”
“But you didn’t want to,” Namjoon said. “I’m not hurting you am I?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just…” Tears prickled in his eyes again. He grunted in disgust and wiped them off on his arm. “I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve always had the argument that I’m still not a weak failure of an alpha because I don’t submit to anyone, and now…This feels so good. I want this so bad. It’s hard to accept.”
Namjoon lay cautiously down on his back beside him, not touching. Jungkook felt no qualms about lying so defenselessly near Namjoon, but he could feel Namjoon tense beside him. Another small sob worked his way up his throat.
“I don’t know why I trust you so much,” he said.
“I haven’t exactly earned it,” Namjoon said bitterly. He lay quietly and let Jungkook sob himself into silence for a few minutes, feeling awful and pathetic, hoping terribly that Namjoon didn’t hate him now, hoped he didn’t want him to leave.
“I didn’t know you’d care about…you know…being weak. Not that I expect you to be happy with being weak, of course,” he rushed to say, and Jungkook made a tiny whimper of protest, “but I didn’t think you’d qualify that as weakness. Submission has to be…incredibly brave for an alpha, and you’re just…always very strong.”
The soft sound of the heating system filled the space between them. Down the hall, he thought he heard a high-pitched, drawn-out moan. “Dad was always worried I’d be a bottom-tier alpha because I never fought with him. He always saw me as submissive,” Jungkook said, figuring that if he’d already ruined his chances with Namjoon, he might as well go all out. “He caught me kissing an alpha in high school and threw me out the day I graduated. I haven’t seen either of my parents in three years. I still love them. That kind of disgrace just…leaves a mark.”
The sobs hurt when he lay on his back, body trying to curl in and just tensing as he lay flat, so he rolled onto his side and found Namjoon’s shoulder right there by his face. He clutched it close, pressed his forehead against Namjoon’s shoulder and let his sobs squeak tensely out against Namjoon’s skin.
And Namjoon pulled Jungkook in on top of his own chest, tensing and breathing deeply, forcing away his instincts to keep an alpha on top of himself. Jungkook cried gratefully, tucked against his chest until Namjoon managed to relax and really hold him.
“Fuck that, Kook. You’re not weak or disappointing. You’re the most naturally dominant alpha I’ve ever met, and you don’t even use it, and that’s what makes you so strong.”
“I’m so pathetic.”
“What you are is hurt. Don’t confuse that for personal weakness.”
“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this,” Jungkook whined.
“I really don’t deserve you,” Namjoon answered softly.
Jungkook picked his head up off of Namjoon’s chest to look at his face, gentle and regretful. “You’re a kind, generous, nerdy, weird, incredibly talented, rich, gorgeous, smart, thoughtful sweetheart. You’d deserve anyone.”
“You’ve got rose-tinted glasses on.”
“I’m just trusting my instincts,” Jungkook said softly. “They’re usually pretty spot-on. They like you.”
Namjoon looked like he was the one close to tears, uncertain and ashamed. “I’m sorry I keep fucking you up. I think I get a thrill out of making someone as incredible as you my…well.”
“Your bitch, Namjoon. I’m your bitch.”
“I didn’t want to say it,” Namjoon said softly. “I’m not celebrating.”
Jungkook put his head back down on his chest. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble over something that won’t work. You’re not even attracted to alphas.”
“I’m not…not attracted to alphas,” Namjoon muttered. “I’m open to it. I think. It doesn’t exactly…turn me off.”
“Can you still respect me as an alpha if I’m never assertive to you?”
Namjoon shifted his back on the blankets, hands gripping tighter at Jungkook’s skin again. “I’m not sure. I think so. You really smell like you could kick my ass to hell and back without breaking a sweat. It’s hard to ignore. There’s a reason I get such an enormous thrill out of having you under me.”
“Can I try something?” Jungkook said. “Might be uncomfortable, but I have to know.”
“…Yeah?” Namjoon said. “Do whatever, really. I owe you.”
Jungkook shifted completely on top of Namjoon, bracketing him between his arms. Namjoon tensed, eyes flying wide open. Jungkook felt a small, guilty flare of dominance, knew he was letting off the softest notes of threatening aggression. He pinned Namjoon’s upper arms to the sheets and leaning on them. Namjoon squirmed a little. “Hold still,” Jungkook said, growly and powerful in his alpha tone. Namjoon held Jungkook’s gaze bravely, but sweat broke out across his forehead. He glanced away and Jungkook couldn’t help his grin.
“Chin up,” Jungkook murmured. Namjoon slowly lifted his head, baring his neck under Jungkook’s mouth. He breathed heavily, calming gulps of air and small moments of frantic panting. Jungkook leaned down and slowly kissed the side of his neck. Namjoon coiled tight like he’d snap at any moment and start fighting back. Blood rushed under Jungkook’s lips, delicate skin and the ability to tear his life away with one quick movement. A strained, fearful noise deep in Namjoon’s throat rattled against Jungkook’s lips and had a different kind of thrill racing down Jungkook’s spine, something jarring and nasty.
“Okay. I’m done,” Jungkook said, and rolled off. Namjoon sat up fast, one hand at his throat.
“You got nothing out of that?” He gasped. “Seriously nothing?”
Jungkook tilted his head back, lying limply on the bed. “Nothing I liked. Come get it.” Namjoon leaned cautiously down and bit playfully at the side of Jungkook’s throat. A delicious, heavy jolt pumped through Jungkook, and he moaned, still limp and nude and totally open.
“Now that,” Jungkook murmured, “I get something out of.”
“Fuck,” Namjoon said, and kissed him right under the chin. “You’re so soft.”
“Only for you.”
Namjoon gathered him close and rocked him gently, lips pressed to his forehead. “Tonight was kind of a disaster,” he muttered, lips brushing Jungkook’s skin, “But I feel like we learned something.”
“That I can probably just submit to you and that’s fine?” Jungkook grumbled. “Should we try it again?”
“Not tonight,” Namjoon laughed. “It’s already nearly two in the morning.” Jungkook nodded, a little relieved. “But you can stay if you want?” Namjoon said softly.
“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed, held tight and close. “I’d love that.”
He ordered something simple from room service, and they ate quietly on the bed, blankets pulled up to their waists, several feet apart and talking quietly. Jungkook could still see a little shiver work its way through Namjoon whenever a soft cry came from down the short hallway, knew that they were still avoiding each other’s eyes a little. They washed up and lay down, still a few feet apart, but Jungkook lay with his defenses down and Namjoon relaxed slowly and dropped into sleep with his fingertips resting in Jungkook’s open hand.
Jungkook woke up at eight a.m. to a ding from his phone on the nightstand. From Mom: What studio did you say you worked at? He answered, knowing that, as usual, she wouldn’t respond, and then stared out the window at the early morning light off the skyscrapers until he drifted back to sleep against Namjoon’s warm chest, the weight of his hand comforting on his waist.
Around eleven, they both woke to Jungkook’s phone ringing. Jungkook sat up blinking hard at the caller ID.
“Sorry. It’s my mom. Just go back to sleep.”
“Thought they kicked you out,” Namjoon yawned, “What time is it?” His blanket dropped away from his bare chest, and Jungkook missed the answer call button three times before he managed to look down at his phone.
“Hi, sweetie!” Mrs. Jeon said, shrill over the line.
“Mom!” he managed, trying to sort the world quickly between dreams and the reality where he woke up in Namjoon’s bed with his mother’s voice in his ear, “Hi. What was—you texted me this morning, right? Sorry, I just woke up.”
“Oh, that’s fine, sweetie. It’s an icy Saturday. Stay in bed as long as you can. Listen, I’ve been on a wild goose chase all over the place today.”
“Have you? What was your text about?”
“Well it was kind of about that. I was going to surprise you.”
“S-surprise me?” Jungkook said, glancing up at Namjoon.
“I’m in the city, just came up from a weekend in North Carolina with your aunt, and I thought I’d check in with you before I had to go back west to your father. I wanted to see if you’re…doing well, I guess.”
“Oh,” Jungkook said, glancing down at his clothes spread out all over the floor, his bare, sweaty chest, Namjoon’s scent sunk deeply in his skin. “Oh wow. Oh.”
“It’s a little sudden, but I wanted to surprise you,” his mom said. “So, I went to the studio and they gave me the address to your apartment. And then I went there and your sweet roommates said you were at your boyfriend’s place! I don’t remember you mentioning a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Well there’s a guy. That’s a new thing though. Maybe not quite a…boyfriend…”
Namjoon muttered, “Just tell her I’m your boyfriend. Less questions.”
“One of the omegas you were telling me about?”
“Who? Oh, Tae and Jimin. No, not them. They’re just friends still. Not really what I usually go for.”
“Right, right. Anyway, I think your roommates may have given me the wrong address, or pranked me, because I’m at this really nice apartment, uh, tower, and I’m not sure they’ll even let me in the door. And I mean really nice. You know the really tall, thin one on Park Avenue?”
“Four-thirty-two Park?” Jungkook breathed, just to be sure, stomach dropping to his toes.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Are you okay, sweetie? I’m sorry for coming unannounced. Could you give me your boyfriend’s address? I’d love to meet him.”
“You’re…it’s…you’re here. You’re in the right place.”
“What?” She yelped. “He lives here?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, already scrambling for his clothes, mind tumbling in anxious, excited circles. “I’m coming right down.”
“I’m coming right up!” She yelped.
Namjoon pulled his phone out of his hand. “Mrs. Jeon? I’m ringing you in. Just go to the front desk and they’ll tell you where to go. Floor sixty-six.”
“Joon!” Jungkook hissed, yanking the phone back. “Mom, wait, just—I should warn you. Things haven’t really changed as much as you would have liked them t—”
“I can’t wait to meet him!” She said, “I’ll be right up! How long till I see you, baby?”
“Few minutes? Hold tight. It’s a long elevator ride.”
“Can’t wait to see you, sweetie!”
“Yeah. You too. Um. See you soon. B-bye.”
Namjoon got off the phone with the front desk and Jungkook yanked on the rest of his clothes just as Jimin snuck sleepily in the door. “Can I have a change of clothes?” he mumbled. “Estel had to leave early for work and I think she’s wearing my underwear and my coat.”
“Help yourself,” Namjoon said from the closet.
“What’s going on?” Jimin said as Namjoon tossed clothes at both of them.
“My mom is here!” Jungkook said.
“Oh fuck,” Jimin said and started yanking on Namjoon’s boxers and t-shirt, stopping a second to breath in the alpha scent and calm down a little. Namjoon’s eyes widened and glazed as Jimin’s tight little body came in and out of view. Jungkook swallowed a nervous lump in his throat.
Thankfully, most of Namjoon’s clothes were aesthetic monochrome, so they all looked like hungover artists rather than just plain blind when they rushed out into the living room to find Mrs. Jeon already standing there, spellbound by the view, face startlingly wrinkled, clothes baggy and pastel. Jungkook’s heart hurt, stopping his breath.
“You’re so grown up! Look at you!” she squealed, flying into his arms and squeezing him harder than he ever remembered. “Grown alpha! You were still so young when you left! You’ve filled out! Look at these big, strong arms. There’s my big, strong alpha.” Jungkook just pressed his face against the top of her head and held her tightly, breathing in her friendly, sweet, so familiar scent.
He’d gotten taller. She’d gotten grayer. “There’s my little alpha. I’ve missed you so much. There you are.”
His breath puffed loudly against her hair, gasps like sobs between them. The clock ticked in the woosh of the heating system. Jimin shifted behind them, one sock squeaking on the polished floor.
Mrs. Jeon took a deep, shaky breath, and then turned to Namjoon. “So you’re the boyfriend. Thought it was the omega at first but Jungkook…smells like you.”
Jungkook’s stomach twisted at that, ducking a little.
“I am,” Namjoon admitted without a stutter, and Jungkook felt warm all over, even though it wasn’t quite true.
“Okay,” she said, and stepped up to give him a hug, her warmest smile breaking over her lined face. “Lovely to meet you. Is this your place?”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing around like he couldn’t believe it either. “This is mine.”
“How long have you two been together?” she asked.
They glanced at each other. “We, um…a night?” Jungkook said before realizing how bad that sounded.
She raised her heavily drawn-on eyebrow. “So, it’s that kind of thing,” she said.
“Not really,” Jungkook said. “We’re friends. It’s not like…a one night thing, I don’t think,” he said, glancing at Namjoon.
“Not a one-night thing,” Namjoon agreed softly with blankly unreadable expression. This was not what he’d hoped for out of a reunion with his mother.
“So, who’s this?” Mrs. Jeon asked, looking at Jimin.
“Jungkook’s best friend and platonic mate,” Jimin said. “I work with him. We’re all friends.”
“Where’s the other omega?” she asked. Jimin blushed, swallowed up in Namjoon’s hoody and still reeking of Estel.
“She had to leave early.”
“I hate to say it,” Namjoon said, “But I have to get to the studio in an hour. Would you all like to have lunch in the restaurant downstairs? I’ll cover you.”
“Oh thanks—wow—yes please,” Mrs. Jeon said.
“You sure you can’t have lunch with us?” Jungkook said quietly. “It’s Sunday.”
“I missed Friday this week so I have to go in today. I’m sorry, Kook.”
Namjoon called them a reservation and handed Jungkook a card, which he took with a little guilt, and they sat low down above the streets of New York in a nearly empty dining room. Jimin and Jungkook awkwardly shoved their party clothes under the table, hair wet from a quick shower but still smelling a little suspicious. The waiter said nothing, but his beta scent spiked with interest.
“Junghyun brought his omega to Thanksgiving dinner,” Mrs. Jeon said. “She’s darling. Very quiet and respectful. She seems scared of your father, so I spent a lot of time taking her out on the town and going out to lunch when Junghyun was busy. Maybe you’ll meet her soon. I’m sure you’ll get along. She’s as quiet as you used to be.”
“He’s still quiet,” Jimin laughed, “People tend to find it intimidating but I think he’s just shy.”
Jungkook blushed and stared into his coffee.
“You should have seen him when he was a teenager,” Mrs. Jeon said, leaning in. “So sullen. Kept getting ear piercings when we told him not to, but he was too passive to fight us when we got mad.”
“Then Dad would care more about me not fighting back than the ear piercings.”
“So he’d try to provoke him,” Mrs. Jeon said. Jimin cringed softly, rubbing his shoulder against Jungkook’s arm. “And it never worked. He’d get so frustrated. Those were some terrifying evenings. We got the police called on us more than once.” She shook her head. “I can’t calm him down like I used to. He’s grown immune, especially after I hit menopause. The hormones just aren’t on my side anymore.”
“Ugh. Alphas,” Jimin groaned.
“Tell me about it,” she said, and winked at Jungkook.
Their food came. She blathered away around her salad, talking about weight loss programs she was doing with an omega community group, about finding new friends around and spending more time out of the house.
“I still have to get all the chores done, of course, but it’s a lot easier without children in the house. I’d prefer to have you back, but it is easier. Maybe I should move here to the big city with you, but I’ve never had a job in my life. Wouldn’t know how to handle it.”
“Have you thought a lot about leaving? You could definitely come. We’d figure it out,” Jungkook said softly.
“No, I’m happy where I am. It’s fun to dream, of course. Everyone thinks about moving to Hawaii with a million dollars sometimes, right? It’s just…It just occurred to me recently that I’ve never lived outside of that little town. I lived with your grandparents after high school and married your father a few months after I met him, the summer after he came home from college. We couldn’t just leave home in those days,” she said to Jimin. “An omega working or living on their own meant the family didn’t have enough money to take care of them so they had to put themselves in danger.”
“That hasn’t changed much,” Jimin grumbled. “People think I’m a slut that’s up for anything because my parents haven’t locked me in the attic in a chastity belt. And believe me, they tried.”
“I wonder if I’d have moved out and even if I’d had the option,” she sighed. “Be a trendy omega in the big city. Going to college. Honestly, I’d probably just have found an alpha there and gotten married that much earlier. Every omega needs their alpha.”
“I won’t,” Jimin said. “I’ll never marry.”
“I hated omegas like you when I was your age,” Mrs. Jeon said, frankly and without malice. Jimin sat back a little, cheeks reddening. Jungkook grabbed his hand under the table. “Because alphas love that, of course. They love resistance. And you’re so beautiful. It’s like you’re cheating and winning and you don’t even care.”
Jimin fought other omegas on things like this all the time. He always won out of sheer aggression. Jungkook squeezed Jimin’s hand, telling him not to, choosing his mother’s comfort over Jimin’s. Jimin pursed his lips and nodded slightly.
His mother took another thoughtful bite of salad and shook her head. “The omega community group I’m in keeps talking about what keeps omegas apart. I’m sure we all would have hated each other if we met while our hormones were more active.”
“It’s changing,” Jimin said carefully. “I have omega friends too. We protect each other.”
She nodded. “That’s good. We need more of that. The community group is trying to figure out a program we can take to schools that talks about the same thing, only I’m not sure whether or not I should participate. I don’t know what your father would say.”
“Come live with me,” Jungkook said. “I’ll keep you safe. He doesn’t respect you and you’re worth more than that.”
“He’s never respected me. Alphas never do.” She looked sadly at Jimin.
“I’m gonna to mate an omega,” he said. “I’m never messing with that.”
“You need an alpha, dear,” she said.
Jimin bristled. “The only think an alpha can give me that an omega can’t is better sex. Keeping my humanity is more important than that.”
“Oh honey,” she sighed, “No one really needs sex, but the world hasn’t changed that much yet. Just watch the news. Just watch Hollywood. We’re still a long way from human and we still need alphas. I’d tell Jungkook to mate you, but it looks like he and his boyfriend are both going to leave two omegas lonely and scared out there in the big world that could have been perfectly happy with them.”
Jungkook flinched, confused and guilty. “That’s why you were mad that I like alphas? That’s it?”
She nodded. “I’ve never really cared if that makes you ‘weaker,’” she said, “but you could have made someone safe, and now you won’t.”
Jungkook stared down at the hands in his lap, blushing hard and not looking at Jimin. Jimin sighed and pulled his hand out of Jungkook’s.
“Jungkook deserves happiness too, you know,” Jimin snapped.
Mrs. Jeon nodded earnestly. “I know. That what’s most important. I’m not angry anymore. At the time I was just thinking about…I don’t know. Something about throwing his future happiness away for alphas, or for taking something that should be ours. I’ve realized it’s not about that. I’ve stopped listening to your father. He lost me one of my sons. He’s broken his side of the bargain.”
“Good. You don’t have to listen to him,” Jungkook agreed quietly. “Just come live with me. Please come live with me.”
“Will your boyfriend support us?”
He thought about asking Namjoon to take care of his mother and cringed. “We’re not…like that yet. I wouldn’t ask that of him. I’m sure I could…manage it.”
“You can barely afford to feed yourself,” Jimin said quietly.
“I’ll just quit the gym,” he said.
She shook her head. “I won’t be a burden on the son I’m supposed to support. Your father is my alpha. He’s still what I need.”
Jimin snorted. “You don’t need him. You have a right to your life, you know.”
“A right, sure,” she said, laughing, “But nobody cares. Our instincts and hormones have it out for us, and so do alphas. We can’t escape it like betas can. Omegas past the age of thirty are either married or barely treated like humans. Alphas almost can't help it when their brains automatically say 'fucktoy' every time they smell us. So by the time we get to be my age, we've worn out our use. People ignore me and sneer at me before they smell your father’s scent on me,” she said, brittle and soft, “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemies.”
“We can overcome that,” Jimin insisted.
“No one is as strong as you and Jungkook,” she said bitterly. “You’re asking more than you think. You’re what, twenty-three? And uncommonly desirable. Alphas do whatever you say, right? Do you think all omegas get that luxury? You have your freedom because they want something from you. Just because Jungkook can resist his biology doesn’t mean every alpha can.”
“They can’t,” Jungkook murmured.
“They’re slaves to their peers,” she agreed, and stabbed her salad with a little more violence. “Omegas will only ever be respected when alphas allow each other to give them that. The only thing we can do is raise our own alphas to be kind.”
“That’s not enough,” Jimin said, voice cracking.
“My husband settled for me, and if he hadn’t taken me, I would have been my parents’ shame and burden until they sent me away, and then where would I have gone? The only places old omegas are useful, I guess. Maybe a brothel. Maybe some rich alpha would have taken me on as a maid, and that wouldn’t have been much safer.”
“Mom,” Jungkook gasped.
“I’m fifty-five,” she sighed. “He’s my alpha. I’m his omega. He’s my power and my safety. I never found my fairy-tale, rich, hot mate like you’ve done. I’m stuck with what I have. I’m not stupid, and I know I don’t have a choice. That’s how it works: He needs me more than he knows, and if I leave him, I’m nothing. The world hasn’t changed as much as you think. Omegas do what they must to survive.”
Thin snow flurries tapped against the thick window. Jimin hunched over his half-finished food, hands tangled in his lap and soft in Namjoon’s oversized cardigan.
“I can’t tell you,” Mrs. Jeon murmured, just barely over the scrape of her fork against the china dishes, “how relieved I was when you were born an alpha, how scared I was when you chose to act like an omega instead. You’re strong though. I’m not quite as scared anymore.”
“Come visit me again?” Jungkook said after the meal when she had called a cab to the airport. “Stay for longer. I’ll save up some money to take care of you.”
She gave Jungkook one last tight, desperate hug. “My baby,” she murmured. “I’m so proud of you. I’m really so proud. You’ve grown up better than I had ever hoped. You need me less than you think.”
“Can I help? At all?” Jungkook said softly.
“Help me by living happily and making my one duty in life worth something. You can afford to be safe and happy at the same time, so keep the alpha and treat each other right. You’ve grown up well. Just have an amazing life, and I’ll be happy.”
Jimin took Jungkook home with him and settled him on the couch. “Mom’s strong. She’ll be okay. I’m sure she’ll be okay. I’m going to get rich so she can live her own life. Pay back everything I’ve put her through.”
Jimin brought two steaming cups of tea over. “Hm.”
“Do you think Namjoon is gonna want to see me again? He probably doesn’t want to deal with my family problems. I’m enough trouble as it is. He isn’t going to want a guy with issues—”
“You have a nasty habit of reducing yourself to a burden in your own head. Cut it out. If people want you around, they want you around. Don’t question it. Just mate with him and make your magical alpha/alpha babies or whatever. When I’m thirty-five I’ll take whichever poor, hopeless sap I’ve convinced to love me and we’ll hide from society in the sewers where no one will be able to find us through the smell.”
“You know what mom said—” Jungkook started quietly.
“I’m not marrying any alpha,” Jimin snapped. “Not even you.” And then started crying. When Jungkook held his arms out, Jimin climbed into them and latched on, sobbing and apologizing for something Jungkook couldn’t figure out.
“You’re okay,” Jungkook said quietly into his ear as he cried. “You’ll do alright. I’ll protect you even if I don’t marry you.”
“Kinda defeats the purpose of self-sufficiency,” Jimin whined.
“Fake it till you make it,” Jungkook said.
On a cheerless, icy, Monday morning, Jungkook rolled around the edge of his cubicle. “Hey, Jimin.”
“Yes Kook?” Jimin said, sliding around the edge of his own small cubicle further down the line. Taehyung looked up between them, always nosey.
“I need some advice.”
Jimin scooted closer on his chair, shouldering Taehyung out of the conversation. “What about?”
“Haven’t really talked to Namjoon much since last Saturday,” Jungkook said. “I think he keeps flirting with me a little, but it’s hard to read. Do you think he’s, like, humoring me? Or is he serious?”
Jimin shrugged. “He certainly looks like he’s interested. You should have seen him staring at your ass in the café on Thursday. Didn’t he take you out to lunch?”
“Yeah, we went out, but it didn’t feel like a date. We just hung out and talked work and then he forgot his wallet and I had to pay.”
Jimin snorted and buried his head in his hands. “What a shit. He’s such a fucking nerd. You really know how to pick ‘em, Jungkook.”
“I’m thinking about going upstairs and maybe…” Jungkook rubbed a hand through his hair, “ask to go home with him? I don’t want to sleep at my place tonight. It’s still a disaster. Seokjin and Hoseok are mid cleaning-frenzy and it’s frighteningly domestic. I don’t want to get in the way. Is that too forward though?”
“Do it,” Jimin said, smirking at him. “Good excuse.”
Up on the eighth floor, Namjoon sat in front of a huge monitor, all sorts of complicated equipment around him, the kind that Jungkook was just figuring out how to use. He had a deadline coming up, which meant lots of late nights and more casual clothes, a beanie on his head and big, blocky glasses. Jungkook brought him coffee from the café on the first floor and settled into the second chair.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
Jungkook took out his phone and started answering emails, keeping his eyes on Namjoon’s profile. Namjoon worked silently at his computer, sometimes nodding along to the music, long fingers hovering over the buttons and switches like piano keys.
“Got much done today?” Namjoon said.
“Not yet,” Jungkook said. “There’s not much to do right now.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll have time to teach you anything today. Got caught up in a meeting and got a little behind.”
Jungkook smiled. He used to spend hours practicing with both Namjoon and Yoongi coaching him. It was a good sign that Namjoon felt like opening that back up again. “That’s okay. Thanks though.”
Namjoon glanced at him. “What’s up? Everything alright?”
“It’s fine. Just wanted to see you.”
Namjoon scooted his chair closer and grabbed Jungkook’s hand off the armrest of his chair, long fingers threading loosely through his. Warmth shivered through Jungkook and he hid his smile behind his phone.
“You seem nervous,” Namjoon murmured. Jungkook gave a pathetic, strangled laugh that had him glancing away in embarrassment.
Namjoon brought Jungkook’s hand to his mouth and bit gently at his fingers. Jungkook relaxed back into his seat, each little bite sending a thrill right through him.
“You’re so docile,” Namjoon said, kissing each of his calloused knuckles. He glanced at the door and then pulled Jungkook closer, hand just a little forceful on his neck so Jungkook could relax like he wanted to, sinking into his seat with his lips soft and giving against Namjoon’s insistent kisses.
“When will you finish?” Jungkook asked.
Namjoon sat back and glared at the wall of equipment. “I’ll get what I need to get done by six. After that I could keep working all night or I could call it a day.”
“Wanna…have dinner or something?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I kind of just want to go home to my place and call room service.”
“Wanna come over?”
“Yeah! Um…yeah I do.”
“It’s a date,” Namjoon said with a soft smile.
Namjoon got dinner from the restaurant downstairs delivered right to his kitchen counter as soon as they got home. Jungkook nearly vacuumed the salmon. “God,” He gasped through a mouthful of sesame green beans. “I don’t know how I lived before this.”
“Growing boy,” Namjoon said fondly, petting his back, just a little dominant in a way that made Jungkook want to stretch out and purr. “Eat up. We can get more if that’s not enough.”
“Don’t you have food here?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said, glancing around, “but just, like, snacks. I don’t cook. It’s dangerous.”
“I do,” Jungkook said. “I should cook for you sometime. You should come to my apartment this week or something and I’ll make you, like, pasta. I’m good at pasta. Haven’t eaten it in a while though.”
“Carbs. Trying to lay off so all the money I spend at the gym doesn’t go to waste.”
“I have a gym here,” Namjoon said thoughtfully.
“I saw. State of the art or whatever. I read up on it. Looks kind of like CrossFit but more expensive.”
“Yeah probably,” Namjoon said, shrugging. “I go, like, twice a month. I’m terrible.”
“Four days a week,” Jungkook said proudly. “Sometimes five. Getting my money’s worth.”
“I can feel that,” Namjoon said, squeezing his arm. “And yeah. You should cook for me sometime.”
Jungkook finally set himself up in one of the window seats, sitting above the city as the last dregs of sunlight faded over the buildings and the city slowly glowed to life. He leaned back against Namjoon’s chest and blinked sleepily into the sunset.
Namjoon’s hands snuck up his chest. “Got any homework?” he murmured in Jungkook’s ear.
“Nothing due tomorrow,” he sighed. “My only class got cancelled.”
“You could still be working.”
“I turned in a big project for my only Wednesday class today. Everything else can wait.”
“Good,” Namjoon murmured. “My model student.”
Jungkook shivered happily. “Were you a good student?”
“Of course,” Namjoon said, and found Jungkook’s nipples through his t-shirt. His flexed his pecs just to feel Namjoon’s breath hitch. “Graduated high school two years early and signed to a label a month later.”
“What a fucking dream,” Jungkook sighed.
“Isn’t it?” Namjoon said, lips tickling against the back of Jungkook’s hair. “Sometimes I feel guilty.”
“Guilty?” Jungkook asked, arching as Namjoon’s fingers worked delightfully at his nipples.
“I’m twenty-five and I have a forty-million-dollar apartment.”
“Holy fuck,” Jungkook grunted.
“I keep asking myself, ‘Do I really deserve this? Am I doing this right? Should I have gone to college? Should I be saving more money? Is my career going to burn out in another five years? Should I really be making this much money?’”
“People like your music,” Jungkook groaned, heart already lurching with how carelessly Namjoon treated his body. The thoughtless play of Namjoon’s fingers scrambled his attention. “You work really hard. You’ve got songs all over the radio,” Jungkook said, stuttering a little with pleasure. “They’re not really my genre but they’re good.”
“You don’t like my music,” Namjoon said, teasing.
“I love your music. But I partly love it because it’s yours, you know?”
Namjoon hiked Jungkook’s shirt up and pulled it off.
“We’re in a window, Namjoon,” Jungkook said, basking in the feeling of hands on his bare skin.
“We’re way higher up than anyone else around. No one can see us. It’s fine.”
“God, this place is a dream,” Jungkook sighed. “I’ll be honest though. It feels like you don’t belong here.”
Namjoon laughed out loud. “It’s not really my culture, is it?” he said. “All these put-together, rich, old business types and then me walking into walls in the lobby because I’m too busy staring at my phone. This place was a little out of my price range when I bought it. I can afford it now, and I love it, but I kind of feel like I’m faking it in a smug way, like I’ve somehow beaten the system and gotten something I shouldn’t have. Same with you though,” he said against Jungkook’s ear, voice low and growly, “I haven’t earned this either, but it’s…” he squeezed Jungkook’s waist, breath puffing out against his neck, “it’s fucking wonderful.”
“You’re just magnetic, I guess,” Jungkook sighed. “I keep wondering why you put up with me.”
“Where else would I find such cute little nips?” Namjoon said, flicking them.
“Ugh,” Jungkook grunted, chest straining up, “Fuck off. Keep going.”
Namjoon pulled him further up his chest with a little bit of difficulty, so Jungkook’s head lay back on his shoulder, Namjoon’s mouth next to his throat, and slid his hands down over his abs. Jungkook moaned, head fuzzing with the searing heat of Namjoon’s lips against his neck. Fingers slid down the front of his jeans to pinch the soft head of his cock.
“What do you want?” Namjoon asked.
Jungkook swallowed with his dry throat, wondering how many times his heart could take this before it burst, and if this counted as a cardio workout. “Fuck me like you fucked me the first night,” Jungkook murmured, already sinking deeper into some kind of headspace, “And take better care of me afterwards. That should be fine.”
“I fucked you like an omega then,” Namjoon murmured right against his neck, and a little, sexy thrill of nerves climbed up Jungkook’s straining back. “Pants off,” Namjoon said in his alpha tone, teasing, and Jungkook struggled to peel them off.
He still had Jungkook against his chest on the window seat, working him up terribly slowly in the warm apartment air, when the buzzer rang. Namjoon rolled him out of his grip and toppled him onto the floor next to his shirt. Jungkook shook his head like he had water in his ears, trying to clear the submissive haze.
“What was that for?” he grumbled.
“It’s probably Yoongi. He comes over a lot.”
“Tell him to go away,” Jungkook whined, unwilling to get dressed, chest tingling and dick hard in his boxers.
Namjoon rang him in.
“We were gonna go out drinking to commiserate about our sucky lives,” Yoongi said as soon as he stalked off the elevator with Jimin, “But then we figured we could come get drunk here instead on better alcohol.”
Jungkook groaned unhappily and pulled his pants back on.
“I’m not actually sexually attracted to omegas,” Jimin said out of nowhere later that night, laid out across the island in Namjoon’s kitchen like NYC’s most delicious feast as they sat on bar stools around him. “Well maybe. I don’t know. I’m not biologically attracted at least.”
“Huh?” Yoongi said, picking his head up off the counter excitedly, hand wrapped around a glass. Jungkook, completely unsurprised, didn’t glance up from the depths of his rum and coke.
“No…” Jimin said quietly. “I just got mad at the world in high school and swore off alphas forever. I’m horribly sexually frustrated sometimes, but omegas are enough for me, and besides the sex, they just feel better. They make me happier. If I found the right alpha though, one that isn’t an alpha-alpha-only kind of guy,” he said, nudging Jungkook’s drink, “I might give that up.”
“Give it up?” Yoongi said, “But it’s important to you.”
“I won’t be twenty forever,” Jimin said very softly. “Jungkook’s mom reminded me of that.” Jungkook flinched, missing her already. “My looks and my scent will only keep me safe for another decade and a half or so. Then I’m not worth anything to anybody. Can’t be an idealist in a broken system.”
“Someone’s got to be an idealist in order for the system to change,” Namjoon said.
“Why’s it gotta be me?” Jimin said. “I won’t be anyone’s martyr. I’m just a bitch who wants to be happy. Taehyung’s got the right idea. Just marry some rich, old asshole, kill him, and inherit the money.”
“I’m suddenly glad Taehyung turned me down,” Yoongi said.
“He turned you down? Why?” Jimin said. “I would have thought you’d be perfect. Young, hot, rich. Everything he wants and more.”
“Well, if he wants someone he can use without remorse…” Yoongi said, “maybe that’s not me? Since we’re actually kind of friends a little?”
“He needs to grow up too,” Jimin said. “We have a marriage pact, but two omegas aren’t any safer than one. In fact, that’s worse in some ways.”
“Be like Seokjin,” Jungkook said. “Mate with a beta. There are plenty that would love to have you.”
“That’s basically the same as mating with an omega for me.”
“You’d be safer though.”
“But the beta wouldn’t be,” Jimin said. “Some alphas love beating up betas and taking their omegas. It’s more common than the media plays it up to be. That’s why betas tend to stick to their own. First, there’s just a ton of them. Much bigger dating pool than what we’ve got. And it’s just easier. I wish I was a beta. Fuck, I wish everyone were betas.”
“What happened to Estel?” Jungkook asked.
“She said she had fun, but she’d rather just date alphas because dating me would be, you know, impractical,” Jimin sighed.
“Ah,” Jungkook said, and reached out to stroke his hair. Jimin’s eyes snapped shut like he was trying to hold in tears.
“You could make it a three-way thing,” Namjoon said. “You, Yoongi, and Tae in a hippie commune type deal together for the rest of your days.”
“I could fuck with that,” Yoongi said.
“Of course, you can. You’d get two gorgeous omegas out of it,” Jimin said. “Don’t pretend you’re not a pervert.”
“I also care about both of you,” Yoongi muttered.
Jimin stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. His soft shirt slipped down away from his perfect, prominent collar-bones and lined the little swells and valleys down his chest. He wore that shirt to get attention, to give alphas a reason to listen to what he said. For someone so free of alphas, he still needed to do an awful lot to keep himself relevant to them. Yoongi scooted closer and patted his arm cautiously.
“Not now,” Jimin said. “I need some time to get over my crushing disappointment with living.”
Yoongi wordlessly pushed his fingers through Jimin’s and held on tight.
“I’d be happier if I didn’t respect myself so much,” Jimin said.
“You’ll be happy anyway,” Namjoon said. “I promise.”
“Wake up. Seriously.”
“Don’t you have classes today?”
“Huh? No. Got cancelled. Let me sleep.”
“I only have two hours before I go to work though,” Namjoon said.
“Two whole fucking hours,” Jungkook groaned. “Congratulations.”
“You’re not hungover. You only had two drinks last night. Yoongi and Jimin were more drunk than you.”
Jungkook groaned, eyes slipping open just enough to see the edge of Namjoon’s hair and a fancy strip of ceiling, and then shut them tight again.
“If you wake up now for just a little while, I’ll have time to fuck you, and you can go back to sleep later.”
Jungkook pried his eyes more open. Namjoon hovered obnoxiously over his head, leaning down with his full, sleepy lips and morning breath just a few inches away. “Brush your teeth and I’ll think about it,” he grumbled.
“Yours isn’t any better,” Namjoon said, lying down on top of him and gently tugging a hand through his bed-head.
“We haven’t even managed a good fuck yet,” Jungkook murmured. “Why d’you wanna first thing in the morning? Goddamn sun’s not up.”
“Because I have to get ready in an hour and you look beautiful.”
Jungkook hummed softly and stretched, trapped under Namjoon’s bare chest. He wiggled a little and felt nothing but sheets on his skin. “Where’d my boxers go?”
“You did a strip tease for me last night and then passed out the minute I went to the bathroom,” Namjoon sighed, “remember?”
“…Fuck. Why am I always embarrassing myself with you?” Jungkook whined.
“It’s cute,” Namjoon giggled. “Please?”
“Fine,” Jungkook said, grinning sleepily. “Have your way with me.”
“Yes,” Namjoon said, fist pumping, and Jungkook giggled as he stripped the blankets away and leaned down to kiss across his pecs. The buzz started working its way up into Jungkook’s sleepy head, just the simple thrill of lying on his back as an alpha worked over him, adrenaline pumping, mind doing nothing with it.
“What do you want this morning, baby?” Namjoon murmured, lips against his nipple, and his hips twitched.
“Sleep,” Jungkook mumbled.
“So lazy,” Namjoon said, and sucked. Jungkook groaned, shamelessly grinding his hips up, everything sensitive from sleep.
Namjoon left the bed and Jungkook grunted unhappily, wiggling to find the pressure again. He rolled onto his stomach and rocked his hips against the mattress.
“Needy,” Namjoon laughed when he got back, palming over Jungkook’s butt. “Spread your legs for me.” Jungkook did, letting Namjoon steer his knees till he was propped up a little, splayed out and foggily anticipating. Namjoon teased soft arcs over his skin with his fingertips, tracing the curve of his ass and getting so close. “You asleep yet?”
“No,” Jungkook said.
“D’you want to go back to sleep?”
“…No. This is…nice.”
“You’d hate me for this if you were more awake,” Namjoon said, teasing lower over the backs of his thighs, down along the insides, along the bottom edge of his ass and down under on the crease of his thighs. He took Jungkook’s semi in his hand and pulled it gently down between his legs to watch it harden.
Jungkook shivered, put on display, laid out totally for his alpha to play with.
“So good,” Namjoon murmured over him, and the cap of the lube bottle clicked. “Your dick is kinda cute.”
Jungkook pressed his forehead into the mattress, squirming with embarrassment. “What? How?”
“Well…it’s smaller than what I’m used to.”
Jungkook shivered, dick twitching on the sheets. Namjoon gave a small, breathless laugh. “Like that?” he whispered.
“Hrrng…” he groaned, content to lie there as waves of submission swept slowly through him. One wet finger traced slowly up the underside of his dick, leaving a cooling trail behind, and Jungkook’s hips rocked, a moan tripping quietly out on his breath. the finger stopped just short of his hole.
“Joon,” he breathed. One of Namjoon’s hands firmly pulled his ass cheek out, and a large puddle of cold lube hit his crack and slid down into him, warming as it sank. He pulled up a little, hips trying to rock against the mattress, still trapped by his dick under him, stretched almost uncomfortably back.
“Don’t tense up, baby. You’ll push it all out.”
Jungkook pulled a pillow to his chest and clutched it to his face to hide all the embarrassing noises he was probably making. Namjoon’s fingers pushed slowly inside, rocking in dizzying circles as he spread the lube down.
“You’re loose, baby,” Namjoon said. “Who’ve you been fucking?”
“Just the usual guys,” Jungkook breathed. “Still need the money.”
Namjoon’s fingers curled rhythmically, twisting and pulling. Jungkook couldn’t tell if he was still sleepy, or just lost already to the twisted pleasure in his head. Namjoon touched the tip of his cock and pushed his slick fingers around the slit. “You’re dripping already,” he said. “You’re gonna ruin my sheets.”
“Then you’ll h-have to punish me,” Jungkook said, trying to rock back on Namjoon’s fingers and getting a palm pressed warningly down against his dick, pinning him to the sheets. His head swam.
“Are you drooling on my pillow?” Namjoon asked.
Jungkook shifted his face and found a big wet spot against his cheek. “…No?”
Namjoon giggled happily behind him and drove his fingers in deeper. “So fucking cute when you’re sleepy, Kook.”
Jungkook blinked his eyes all the way open. The bedroom faced west, so the sky would be getting lighter outside, sunlight gleaming off the city out their window, the room a little dark with the cool indigo of early shade. “W’ time ‘s’it?”
“Probably nearly six-thirty,” Namjoon murmured.
“So early,” he breathed, and then moaned brokenly when Namjoon held his cheeks open and blew on his hole, lube going cold.
“I’ll make it worth it,” Namjoon said. He braced a hand between Jungkook’s shoulders and slowly leaned his weight forward to crush his chest down into the soft bed. Jungkook whimpered pitifully, squirming. Primal fear pounded through him even as Namjoon’s presence and scent lulled him down and the contrast pulled him deeper into heady pleasure. He remembered the first night, the sweeping waves of pleasure. His thighs trembled, dick aching. “Like that, baby? Like being held down?”
Jungkook felt so weak, so small. His voice shook when he responded, unintelligible. Namjoon pushed Jungkook’s thighs irresistibly up and open, propping his ass up higher and teasing his head against the rim. Jungkook’s breath caught, lying obediently still till Namjoon finally pushed in. “Relax, Kook.” Jungkook took a deep breath and forced all the tension out. Namjoon sank in a little deeper. “There you go,” he said, “So good.”
Jungkook moaned, lost and fuzzy. His ass took on the sharp ache of one of those great fucks where he felt like he could come at any moment and just hung there near the precipice for a long while.
“Neck,” he murmured, “Please.”
“You ready for that?” Namjoon said, already leaning down over him.
“Yes, please,” he whispered.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Namjoon said, and it made Jungkook’s whole body tingle with the most relieving kind of shame. Namjoon tugged his hair gently, pulling his head back and to the side, and Jungkook’s eyes rolled, hips twitching against Namjoon’s with need. Lips hit his neck. Namjoon breathed heavily, breath puffing against the delicate skin, grip tightening on Jungkook’s hair till he whimpered shamelessly. Adrenaline pumped sluggishly into his brain and swept his mind out from under him.
Namjoon thrust a little harder. “Please,” Jungkook groaned. “Please more.”
“Fuck yes. Beg for me, Kookie.”
The bed felt quicksand soft pressing against Jungkook’s shaking arms. “Ugh want…want more. Please, Joon. Please, please, please—you gotta…more…I can’t…”
Namjoon worked a hand around the base of his throat, and pulled him upright.
Jungkook opened his eyes and saw the ceiling, head dropped back so far that he could barely breath, his weight suddenly balanced on his knees. One of Namjoon’s hands pressed at the top of his chest, the base of his throat. The other trapped the tip of Jungkook’s dick against his abdomen. Jungkook went limp, a little stunned, and Namjoon’s dick jammed deeper into his ass as he sat back on his lap.
“You okay?” Namjoon said, right against the side of his neck, and Jungkook struggled not to come right there, head awash with endorphins. He gripped Namjoon’s hands in lieu of answering, too dazed to respond. Namjoon pushed Jungkook’s knees closer together between his legs, tightening up the pressure in him. He nudged Jungkook up a little with his body, and started thrusting up into him, much tighter now, jarring.
“F-fuck,” Namjoon grunted, a little pained and frantic. Jungkook tried to stretch up and back. Namjoon’s thrusts jammed frantically up against the achingly sensitive spots inside him, body buzzing numbly.
“Hold still,” Namjoon ordered. The fog pulled Jungkook under, pleasure aching gorgeously in him, spreading all the way up his stomach and down his thighs. He whimpered deep in his throat, rattling against Namjoon’s hand.
“Pretty boy,” Namjoon growled in his ear. “Taking it so well. “
The sleepy, early-morning buzz dropped him deeper into the bliss of submission so easily. Namjoon held him up and fucked him like an omega, hot and strong against his back, dick untouched but for Namjoon’s fingers pressed tight to the head.
“Are you?” Namjoon murmured right against his ear. “How’s it feel? Feel good?”
Jungkook groaned, struggling to catch his breath as the need to come played along the delicious edge of pleasure so intense it hurt, and the thrumming adrenaline, the intoxicating feeling of giving in, the scent of a safe alpha all around him, holding him down. Pleasure and delicious shame, helplessness.
Teeth dug into his shoulder. He made some noise that had Namjoon groaning right there, right by the pain, teeth pressing into Jungkook’s skin.
He bounced on Namjoon’s cock. His thighs shook hard with Namjoon’s teeth in his shoulder, fingers playing with a nipple and tight on the head of his cock, dick sweeping relentlessly over his prostate. Jungkook’s body pulled tight and with one more little nuzzle against his neck, orgasm surged through him.
HIs body limply hit the covers, ass still full and sending shocks of pleasure through him, quickly becoming too much. He fought to relax, even with overstimulation and the urge to fight slamming into his head, and took it like a good little bitch until Namjoon came. Cum slipped hot and wet down his skin, marking him in a way he’d never let another alpha mark him. His head whited out into nothing for a while.
“Jungkook, you gotta get up,” Namjoon said. Jungkook giggled, euphoria sending tense shivers down his body. Namjoon pulled his arm. He sat with it. His belly and thighs felt damply cool. He touched it. Still wet. He’d needed that hand to stay upright. He tipped sideways on the heavenly soft mattress and giggled again.
“It’s been a whole half hour,” Namjoon said, laughing a little. Jungkook felt a wash of déjà vu.
“I feel like we’ve done this before,” he murmured.
“We have. C’mon. We’ve gotta shower.”
Namjoon hauled him off again, but took him to his own shower this time, got under the spray with him, and carefully washed the alpha-sex scents off each other with Jungkook’s special soap. Jungkook leaned back against the wall and waited for his head to clear.
“How are you feeling?” Namjoon said as he washed his own hair.
“Is that good?”
“Yeah. I’m good,” Jungkook said. “Thanks for all the…yeah.”
“I’m getting better at this,” Namjoon said, grinning. “It’s less overwhelming now.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said. “A lot less scary. Felt…like…safe, I guess.”
Namjoon smiled proudly, dimples out in full force. Jungkook leaned in, a little carelessly with Namjoon’s eyes closed and his head tipped back, and wrapped him in a hug. Namjoon jumped and tensed, predictably, hands freezing in his hair and pulse picking up. Jungkook hummed happily and snuggled up, and Namjoon went cautiously back to his hair. “You’re getting better at that too,” Jungkook said.
“You know, I trust you,” Namjoon said, “Even if you smell like you could eat me. We’ve got a way to go yet, but I’m working on it.”
“You make a great pillow.”
“Please don’t fall asleep in here. You’ll slip and I’ll drop you, and then we’ll both get concussions and drown in here, and if I’m late for work one more time, Yoongi will flay me alive. He might not be awake though. I think he and Jimin are still down the hall. In which case I want to be there early and give him shit for it.”
Namjoon got ready for work, doing his hair and putting on his artist’s black. Jungkook sat on his bed in his boxers, probably looking like something the cat dragged in.
“Go bring home the bacon, dear,” Jungkook grumbled, bleary and not at all like a house omega.
“Did you hear from your mom again after…you know.”
Jungkook shrugged. “Just a few texts. I feel like I have issues. I used to want to get my family back together. Now I just want to get rich enough that I can support mom. I’d kinda like to be rich enough to support Jimin too.”
“And Tae?” Namjoon said.
“Tae’s already got a plan,” Jungkook said. “I don’t want to be involved.”
“Gonna become a world-famous producer like me?” Namjoon said.
“That’s the goal. I’ll buy the other half of this floor.”
“Let’s sell this and buy the penthouse.”
“Too dangerous if people know two alphas are living together. Better just to get apartments next to each other and treat it as one.” Jungkook sighed and flopped back onto his back. “Let’s move to Los Angeles.”
“Might have to eventually. I love this city, but there’s only so much I can do from here.”
Jungkook hummed. “Time is it?”
“I’m going to sleep,” Jungkook murmured. “Maybe I’ll make it down to the studio for lunch. Maybe. I’m gonna have to take another shower after sleeping in your bed again.”
“An alpha sleeping in my bed,” Namjoon mused.
“Never thought you’d like that?”
“Never really considered it until you came along,” Namjoon said, pulling his bag onto his shoulder and leaning down over the bed for a kiss, scent drifting with him and gently blanketing him as he hovered, unwilling to pull away. “The first day you walked into the studio, smelling intense but looking so nervous. So cute. World’s scariest sugar baby.” He pet Jungkook’s cheek.
“Sugar baby? You don’t pay me jack shit,” Jungkook muttered, grinning.
“I’ll pay you as much as you want,” Namjoon said.
“I don’t want money,” Jungkook said, thoughtlessly gripping the hem of Namjoon’s jacket, tugging. “You should stay at my place more. This place is nice, but Seokjin and Hoseok don’t like being alone in the apartment.”
Namjoon crouched by the side of his bed for a moment, staring at Jungkook like he stared at his books, and then reached forward and pet along the back of his neck. Jungkook leaned into his hand, sighing softly, eyes drifting closed. Namjoon surged forward to kiss him down into the bedsheets again. “Sleep well,” he murmured, “I’ll take you out on a real date when I get back.” Jungkook giggled, eyes still shut tight as Namjoon left the room, stumbling over the carpet on the way out.
A moment later, probably down by the kitchen, Namjoon yelped, and Jungkook heard Jimin’s tinkling laugh and Yoongi’s low grumble. He curled up, warm and grinning in bed until Jimin came sleepily into the room and crawled into bed behind him.
“Whatcha so smiley for?” Jimin said into his shoulder-blade.
“Got me a good boyfriend, I think,” he said.
“Lucky,” Jimin murmured. His arm tightened around Jungkook’s middle, legs pressing against the back of his thighs. “My Kookie. All grown up and running off with another man. I’m jealous.”
“I still need you,” Jungkook said, twisting to look back at Jimin’s swollen face and messy hair. “You don’t get to go anywhere.”
Jimin grunted and sighed tremulously with his face tucked out of Jungkook’s view, body squeezing tight against Jungkook’s back. “Not like you could survive without me,” he added to save face. “Not even with a hot alpha boyfriend.”
Jungkook rolled over and flopped down on top of Jimin, nuzzling up like a puppy even while Jimin melted, mushed down into the bed by Jungkook’s weight.
“Your mother raised you well,” Jimin murmured, sounding brittle and a little squashed. “She’d be proud.”
Jungkook hummed sleepily and smiled. “She’s proud of me,” he murmured. “That’s all I’ve wanted for years now, you know.”
“I know,” Jimin said. “What would she say if she knew you were a specialty escort for the city’s kinkiest alphas?”
“Let’s just not think about that,” Jungkook said. “You’re the mom I come to about that shit.”
“My sweet, baby alpha,” Jimin murmured. “I’m gonna leech off your happiness for the rest of my life.”
“I know you’re not kidding, but I still don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” Jimin whispered, voice hollow with new tears. “Strongest alpha I’ve ever met.”
Jungkook lay quietly, contentment radiating into his limbs from the simple pleasure of keeping an omega safe in his arms, listening to his breathing even out. Jimin fell asleep before Jungkook did, pressing the side of his face into Namjoon’s pillow and letting go of his guard without a second thought.
Namjoon returned much later in the day and found them still wrapped tight around each other in his bed. The territorial, jealous instincts lasted only a moment, and then he crawled up behind the alpha holding an omega in his bed and pressed his nose to top of his alpha’s spine. Jungkook just snuggled happily back, bared his neck, and slipped peacefully deeper into sleep.