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Break Your Heart Worse

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A/N: This is another prompt given to me by @jeonnnminnsbebe! Thank you so much for believing in me and my writing. I'm so happy to help make this story come to life for you. You're such a sweet person, thank you so much ;-;  and I just really hope you like it!

A/N/N: Thank you to my amazing betas, who kept insisting that I was doing a great job and to keep going: Heather & Jess <3

A/N/N/N: The marking that happens is 100% an accident, which is why I tagged it 'accidental marking'. That is the way I've written it for this story, which is why I refuse to put dub-con on it. I do not want Jeongguk's character to be viewed as malicious or like he purposefully did it. For him, it's a happy accident, but not intentional. If this type of thing can come across as triggering for you, do not read it. There's some viewers who read Jeongguk as an enemy throughout this fic, but it's about Yoongi freeing himself from a past childhood trauma in order to move forward with his life with Jeongguk.    

PLEASE READ THE TAGS (just in case here are the more troubling ones): Past Child Abuse, Past Near Death Experience, Past Drowning, Past and Current Trauma, Anxiety

Questions, Comments, Concerns?


Break Your Heart Worse

If that's what it takes to get over

If that's what it takes to be yours then

Imma break your heart worse–x

Yoongi hated what they’d become. A love that had held steady for years had gracelessly collapsed, all due to one single mistake. There were no laws in place for what Jeongguk had done to him. The old ways didn’t exist in the twenty-first century, but the moment Jeongguk sank his fangs deeper than he should have, the second he initiated the mating mark, Yoongi felt something within him change, something ugly that went beyond the magic of lupine biology.

‘H-Hyung…it was an a-accident, I d-didn’t mean it. I didn’t…’ Jeongguk was terrified, a sticky commingling of blood and saliva dripping from his mouth as he stared at the bite that he’d left on Yoongi’s neck, the contrast of the omega’s pale skin and fresh blood was starkly harrowing. Jeongguk didn’t mean to, even if he’d always meant to, someday.

‘The fuck you didn't! You got exactly what you wanted. Don’t even say that you didn’t, because you bring it up every chance you get. It’s the start of all our arguments. You knew that I didn’t want this and you fucking marked me anyway,’ Yoongi growled and had shoved forcefully at Jeongguk’s chest, even though it was futile.

Jeongguk was as rigid and unmovable as stone. They couldn’t have done anything anyway, not with Jeongguk’s knot buried deep inside of Yoongi; spilling load after load of his cum. They’d both released harshly from the bite, the bond having coursed through their veins, enhancing the pleasure they’d already felt.

Yoongi knew it was the true mark, the way it’d quickly torn through him, igniting his mind and body ablaze, like he’d consisted of coals, waiting for this moment just to become a spark. It’d felt intense, lovely, terrifying. Yoongi didn’t want it, and although he could certainly feel Jeongguk’s apologetic sincerity through their new bond, Yoongi did not sense a single ounce of regret.

Beneath Jeongguk’s fear and all of his stifling remorse, was the unabashed elation and so, so much relief. It was the typical arrogance of an alpha who had permanently staked his claim on his omega, forever and always. Yoongi remembered how Jeongguk had smelled so pleasant then, like forest floors after a rainstorm or moss in a river by the falls.

Yoongi seethed with every exhale, forced to breathe in Jeongguk’s scent, his eyes flashing blue as anger surged through him and his palm came down heavy with impact, swift and hard across Jeongguk’s face. A low growl started deep within Jeongguk’s chest and Yoongi slapped him again for good measure, ignoring the hurt and confusion of his wolf, not understanding why Yoongi wasn’t happy.

They’d finally been mated. They loved Jeongguk. Their alpha was perfect, so good to Yoongi, took such good care of him, made him happy when he was sad, fed him when he was hungry, fucked him better than any other alpha. Yoongi and Jeongguk were bonded beyond the mark, engulfed so completely.

‘Hyung, stop, please…please.’ Jeongguk had caught Yoongi’s wrists before another slap could land, easily pinning him to the mattress. Jeongguk’s eyes had glowed a deep crimson, matching the blood that’d started to dry on his trembling lips, and despite the intense notion that Jeongguk might command Yoongi to calm down, he didn’t, but the threat was there. He had complete power over Yoongi now.

Shaking, absolutely livid, Yoongi spoke through his teeth, ‘I don’t want to see you, ever again. Never again, Jeongguk, I mean it.’ Yoongi dropped his head against the pillows as tears of frustration and defeat flowed freely. He hoped Jeongguk had felt it. At least he knew that the young alpha understood, because when Yoongi woke up the next day, Jeongguk was gone.

Two days later, Yoongi finally willed himself to look in the mirror, to see the mark on his skin. Jeongguk’s crude, messy bite had already started to fade into a pretty iridescent print, uniquely shaped by his alpha’s teeth. It was as permanent as a scar, fated pairs thought nothing of it. However, Yoongi was hoping the mark wouldn’t take, even if he knew that it would.

Omegas couldn’t be force-marked by someone their wolf held no connection to. It was unfortunate that Yoongi loved him. A terrible thing, that Yoongi loved Jeongguk so much that he passionately despised him now.

Yoongi was so angry; he wanted Jeongguk to stay gone and, aside from the barrage of text messages and the slew of unanswered phone calls, Jeongguk did for the most part. The physical and mental effects of the mark were only potent if they were consistently around each other. With time, Yoongi would lose Jeongguk’s scent as well as everything else that’d come with it. That was the plan, anyway.

Jimin knocked on Yoongi’s door the following week. The alpha seemed to be concerned, even though the reason why he stopped by wasn’t for Yoongi.

“Before I start hauling boxes in here, I need to ask you something. It’s serious, hyung,” Jimin started as he glanced at Yoongi’s neck, where the mark shimmered and throbbed, responding to traces of Jeongguk’s scent filtering through the air. Jimin must’ve seen him before coming over. Yoongi tried his best to appear unbothered by it. He’d felt so lightheaded due to his oncoming heat, his skin flushed with warmth even with the air conditioner on.

Yoongi nodded his assent, welcoming what was most likely an unwelcome conversation. “Ask away.”

“Are you really never going to see Jeongguk again?” The question was faint, like Jimin was almost afraid to know the answer. “He’s your mate, and I know you didn’t want to be marked, but your wolf responded to it. You need him, hyung.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, tired of the misplaced logic. Even if Yoongi’s wolf wanted to be mated, begged and whined for it, Jeongguk knew where Yoongi stood on the matter and he went against Yoongi's wishes anyway, betraying him. He sidestepped the question. The reason why Jimin was here was far more interesting, although obvious. Yoongi was too numb to the pain, his heart refusing to process it, only having time for anger. “So, you’re here to pack up Jeongguk’s belongings then?”

“If you won’t speak to him and he’s not allowed to come home…” Jimin sighed, words coming out exasperated, so clearly troubled by the uncomfortable position he was being placed in by two of his best friends. “...then yes, Jeongguk has asked me to bring him his things.”

Home. Yoongi laughed with derision, his lips curled into a bitter smirk as he bit out his response, “Start packing.”

Jimin leveled his stare, balling his fists. “Hyung–”

“You can start in the studio room. He’ll need his camera for work,” Yoongi said, throwing an arm out as a way of showing Jimin, as if the alpha hadn’t come over a dozen times before, as though they weren’t as close as family.

“–don’t you think you should talk to him first?”

“His clothes are in the basement. I sort of just tossed them down there, so they aren’t folded, which is fine, since Jeongguk was a bit of a slob anyway. It’s probably how he prefers it.” The truth was Yoongi couldn’t bear the overwhelm he was slammed with just from seeing Jeongguk’s shirts, from touching the material with his fingertips; he was left inhaling his alpha in whichever room he went to, but the clothes had been Yoongi’s biggest problem.

Jimin was shaking his head, disbelieving Yoongi’s callousness as he followed the omega through the house. The fragrant scent of apple blossoms spiked the nearer he was to Yoongi, his pheromones pleasant and sugary sweet enough to block out any obvious tells that Yoongi was indeed hurt by the hasty decisions he was making. It made more sense now; Jimin continued to pry, “You’re not yourself right now; your heat will be here soon.”

“I don’t know what pisses me off more, the fact that one of my best friends would be so daring as to undermine me, disregarding my hurt with these borderline insulting excuses or that you’re actually siding with him.” Yoongi whirled on Jimin when there was no immediate response, placing a hand on the door to the studio. He leaned in closely, the warmth of Jimin’s spiced chai not nearly strong enough to dominate the scent of a mated omega just days away from their heat. “Just an alpha backing up another alpha against a silly omega suffering from mood swings due to their bi-monthly cycle. I must be too irritable and sensitive to actually feel upset with being permanently marked then?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that the pain you’re experiencing isn’t real for you.” Jimin wished he could understand Yoongi’s reasons, even when the omega had expressed that he was averse to wearing an alpha’s bite in the past, no one knew the reason for it, which only made things more confusing. “And I’m not taking any sides, I just love you both and I don’t like seeing you upset like this.”

Jimin meant well, rationally, Yoongi knew that, but he couldn’t help but sink deeper into his self-destruction, into the things that couldn’t be unchanged—the mark and the way it made him crave Jeongguk, even now. Admittedly, Yoongi was lost without Jeongguk, which made him hate it all the more.

“I know,” Yoongi said and his shoulders relaxed. His issue wasn’t with Jimin anyway, despite his disposition. “I’m gonna try to get some work done in my office. Call me if you need anything.”

It was so odd for Yoongi, to have lived with someone for five whole years and yet it took Jimin less than two hours to put everything Jeongguk owned into the back of his truck. Yoongi had needed an entire day just to get Jeongguk’s clothes down into the basement. An impossible task, Yoongi had thought at one point, stopping himself from leaning into the clean, earthy scent that Jeongguk left behind on everything.

Now Yoongi had nothing, not a single anchor to aid him through his heat. It wasn’t something he’d had to worry about, not for a long, long while. It made him think that omegas with their reliable heat partners were spoiled; unfairly so, given his current predicament.

‘Hyung, what are you doing?’ Yoongi could hear Jeongguk, feel him even. He remembered that trip they took to the beach just weeks ago, Jeongguk’s dark curls blowing in and out of his face, the giggles of happiness between them when Jeongguk focused his camera and snapped a picture.

Yoongi wanted to conquer his feelings for his alpha.

Later, after Jimin was gone, Yoongi decided to cool off with a swim. There at the pool, he’d learned a lesson once. It took Yoongi years to reacquaint himself with being submerged in water, whether it be at the shallow end of a pool or a bathtub. It'd felt like forever for him to stop being afraid and even when he outgrew the physical aspects of his trauma, it still lingered in the decisions he made as an adult.

The abuse he’d experienced at the hands of his own father had perversely embedded itself into the reason why Yoongi hated the person he loved most right now.

He was only five years old when it’d happened, the problems between his parents were kept hushed, their arguments indiscernible through thin walls and if there’d been any other signs of their marriage falling apart, Yoongi hadn’t been able to sense it, although there were fractured memories, instances where his mother’s scent had turned bitter. It would be unbearable at times, their biology unable to betray. His mother wore her excuses the same way she did a smile: tactfully, carefully. But the smell was still there, and beneath it was fear, rage, hurt. 

Even as a child, Yoongi was good at keeping her secrets. Big responsibilities and all that, Yoongi loved her more than him. She’d been talking about taking Yoongi on a trip. To go see grandma. Yoongi remembered thinking that it was somewhere really far away. America. He’d wished it happened, but instead his father picked him up from school that day. He’d told Yoongi that he was going to learn how to swim.

His father was a realtor who catered to the wealthy. He sold luxury homes to people of high rank and status. Yoongi didn’t recognize the neighborhood nor the house his father had dragged him through with a firm grip on his hand. It was empty, unlived in. Expensive, with a pool in the backyard. His mother’s face was ashen, following behind them, trembling so hard like she’d been seconds away from collapsing.

Yoongi thought it was strange how they hadn’t brought his swim trunks. He didn’t know if he was ready to go in without his floaties. There wasn’t a shallow end to stand in or a ladder to hold onto. Yoongi wasn’t so certain he wanted to swim anymore and his mother’s scent was stifling. He didn’t like it, and no matter how scary his father was being, he wasn’t going to do it.

He wasn’t—

His memory always grew fuzzy around here—Yoongi couldn't remember how he wound up in the water, only that he reached and reached and there was nothing to grab onto. Yoongi had heard his mother screaming and begging for his father to stop, that she’d do whatever he wanted as Yoongi thrashed his small limbs. He kicked wildly, gasping for air but got a mouthful of water instead.

‘Yoongi, put your head under the water until I say so.’ It was an alpha’s command, a command from his father. Yoongi had lost control over himself, his ability to do or say anything stripped away from him as he did as he was told, closing his eyes and losing his breath. Confused, hurt, terrified.

It was a lesson, one that demonstrated the unequivocal power that an alpha had over their mate and child. If Yoongi’s mother hadn’t agreed to stay with him, Yoongi would’ve been dead. She probably would’ve been, too. They didn't have to bear it for long, though; his father passed away a few years later from a heart attack. It’d been the first time Yoongi ever felt at peace. His mother opened up a café with the insurance money and their lives were able to resume.

Yoongi always thought that he was smart, guarded, except now there was an invisible collar around his neck. Jeongguk had the power to control him. Completely, if he wanted to. Yoongi knew Jeongguk wouldn’t and that he wasn’t like his father, not in the slightest. Jeongguk was sweet and so, so soft with him, almost as if he’d sensed all of Yoongi’s fears when it pertained to alphas. With him, Yoongi was protected and cherished, as he should be after so many years of being together.

It felt like only yesterday that Yoongi was saving Jeongguk from a larger alpha, having mistaken him for an omega at first glance. Ridiculous, but nineteen-year-old Jeongguk wasn’t anything like twenty-three-year-old Jeongguk, although his bright, doe-eyed stare remained the same and Yoongi fell for it, regardless. Overtime, Jeongguk’s hair had grown past his jawline and his arms and legs filled out with muscle into what was typical alphiac proportions. Jeongguk was broader now, taller than Yoongi.  

Everything that’d been physically boyish about Jeongguk had disappeared, even if he still behaved like a child at times.

Yoongi dived into the pool, cooling himself off, reconciling with the fact that Jeongguk needed to stay gone. Even if he’d known the truth behind Yoongi’s decision to never be marked, it was too late. Yoongi’s choice had been taken from him and he could still taste Jeongguk’s elation at the back of his throat.

Jeongguk hadn’t regretted it.

Yoongi would make sure that he did.

The most difficult part about being connected through a mating mark was the shared dreams. One could never tell when it was going to happen or whose dream it would be, only that there was a possibility that tethered wolves would experience this while asleep at the same time. Aside from that, a mated pair would often be subjected to the same sensations of fear, pleasure, and pain.

Unfortunately, it was too early for the mark to have lessened in its efficacy. Yoongi could still feel Jeongguk, the alpha’s heartbeat pounding away inside his chest. After taking a high dose of melatonin, Yoongi expected to sleep throughout the night. He was hoping to wake up well-rested for his heat, already so irritable, sweat beading along his brow even with the air conditioner directly on him.

Yoongi’s nest consisted of his favorite pillows and blankets, pathetic in comparison to what it used to be when Jeongguk was here. The pile would be covered in all of Jeongguk’s clothes, the sweaty ones from a day at the gym. The post breakup additions were a storage container filled with newly purchased toys and a mini fridge filled with snacks and bottles of water.

He hadn't had to worry about these things for the past five years. His alpha used to have them on a schedule, knew exactly when Yoongi needed to eat, would bring a straw to his lips and tell him when to drink. Sure, it was another form of control, but it was also when Yoongi needed it the most. Heats were so uncomfortable for him and Jeongguk always made them bearable, fucking Yoongi exactly how he needed to be fucked, soothing him through it, always so patient even while he was struggling with his rut. 

Yoongi curled up inside his nest, draping his thigh over a body pillow. He ignored the emptiness inside his chest, the gaping hole that’d left him with such an immense feeling of loneliness. Yoongi told himself it was the mark. It flared and ached since Yoongi refused to give into what it wanted from him, ignoring the whimpers and cries of his wolf.

That night, Yoongi dreamt of Jeongguk. He was on the back of the alpha’s motorcycle, resting his head between Jeongguk’s shoulders. The mixed scent of Jeongguk’s leather jacket and rainfall calmed Yoongi instantly as he slid his hands around Jeongguk’s front, holding onto him like he’d never been told to go away in the first place.

Yoongi woke up a few hours later to an inferno.

It felt like his blood was curdling inside his veins. He was melting from inside-out, skin flaring high with fever. Slowly, on shaking limbs, he dragged himself away from his nest towards the bathroom. He could feel the familiar ache at the core of his stomach, pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat, wanting what he couldn’t have anymore. He tried his best to ignore how miserably aroused he was in favor of managing his temperature.

He turned the cold water on and started filling the bathtub. Yoongi wasn’t a big fan of oils but Taehyung enjoyed gifting them to him anyway. This particular set was from his twenty-sixth birthday, Taehyung claiming that it was meant to soothe. Yoongi didn’t know how potent it would be for an omega in heat but it smelled soft, like crumbles of lavender. He added a couple of drops into the water and started peeling his clothes off, one damp layer at a time.

Rubbing his thighs together, Yoongi could feel the slick between them. The cool air was evidence enough as to how much had accumulated, his skin blanketed in a thick layer of sweat and arousal. He was a mess, whimpering in discomfort as he lowered himself inside the tub until he was completely submerged. It was almost surprising that steam didn’t roll off his body at first contact.

This had to be Hell.

Approaching a new level of delirium, fingers teasing over his swollen cock, Yoongi wondered if Jeongguk could feel it too. Surely, the alpha knew. They’d been synced up for years, which meant Jeongguk should be experiencing his rut right about now. Perhaps that’s why everything felt so much more amplified, the chills wracking Yoongi’s body more intense than ever before. Heats were always uncomfortable to say the least, but this was close to unbearable.

He’d soaked for over an hour, the water having turned tepid from the heat radiating off his skin. Yoongi didn’t bother with a towel as he padded his way to the kitchen and filled up a tall glass with ice chips to bring back to his nest. There, in the vat of strategically placed blankets and pillows, Yoongi’s phone started to go off.

It was Jimin’s name that popped up as the contact, and if Jeongguk was staying with him like Yoongi suspected, then the other alpha should’ve known better. Yoongi opened up the mini fridge and took out a bottle of water, holding it to the back of his neck as he ate some of the ice. The phone was still ringing and, for the briefest moment, Yoongi felt concerned.

Maybe Jimin had questions for him about Jeongguk’s rut? Yoongi was the only person to have seen him in that state before, a growl settling low in Yoongi’s chest when he thought about it. Jeongguk was nineteen when they met, a baby alpha with no previous relationships to speak of. He’d been a virgin and everything he knew, he learned from Yoongi.

He hadn’t yet considered what it would be like, how unbearable it would be if Jeongguk found himself another omega, lulling them through their heat week.

Bracing a hand against the wall, Yoongi got down to his knees, not trusting his balance. The worst part about an omega’s heat was how physically taxing it was to do anything until it was fucked out of his body.

The call dropped to Yoongi’s voicemail but already the phone was ringing again. He felt more compelled to pick up, trying to keep the exasperation out of his tone. Jimin didn’t need to know that he was suffering. He took a long sip of cold water before he answered, “Hello?”

It was quiet static at first, cutting Yoongi’s patience into pieces. He was about to say something snappish when a shuddered breath filtered through the receiver. The sound was rough and shaken, rolling down the knots of Yoongi’s spine. Ah, fuck. He shut his eyes, pressing his phone close against his ear, hard enough to hurt.

“Jeongguk…” Yoongi murmured, voice hushed with incredulity, not expecting him to stoop so low, even if they were both teetering on the edge of insanity. A part of Yoongi felt relieved, consoling himself with excuses that it was the heat clouding his mind, that the mark merely solidified it even more so.

It was making him weak.

“Hyung… I tried calling you, but your phone…” Yoongi fell back against the pillows of his nest, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at the sound of his alpha’s voice. “You blocked my calls, so…”

“You shouldn’t be calling me. I thought I’d made that perfectly clear.” It was wrong of Yoongi, but he couldn’t help but to take advantage of the comfort of hearing his alpha. Jeongguk’s voice—an octave softer than a growl but just barely—felt like salve for the flames engulfing Yoongi’s skin.

“Yes, but I know that you’re going into heat and you’re my omega, my mate and I know that you’re angry—and I’m sorry, I just got so lost in you,” Jeongguk said, words distressed and tattered, spoken through his teeth. “But the mark took, hyung… it took because we love each other. It wasn’t long ago that you promised you’d stay with me.” There was an obvious tear in the alpha’s usual dulcet tone, once boyish and charming, now possessive and dangerously low. “Now let me take care of you.”

It was such a small, feeble attempt from Yoongi, but he had to try. “I don’t need it.”

“Yes, you do.” They both did.

“I’ve more than prepared myself to be without you.” A wicked little lie, one that would, no doubt, haunt Yoongi later, perhaps when he was more coherent.

Jeongguk laughed, a sad, breathy sound. “No, you haven’t.”

No, Yoongi hadn’t. He’d never truly be prepared to lose Jeongguk. He was only doing what he felt was best for right now, which was to keep Jeongguk at a distance, terrified of what might transpire otherwise. Old trauma, having to explain that trauma, to relive it through words.

“Start touching yourself. I wanna hear you,” Yoongi said, relenting for the sake of his heat. That’s all it was, Yoongi would convince himself later.

“So bossy,” Jeongguk said, amusement at the end of the statement, endeared by it. This was typical of Yoongi, to try to be in control even now. It’d never bothered Jeongguk’s wolf, allowing the omega to have his way time and time again with little fight. Even his rut was always ruled by Yoongi and it’d kept him levelheaded, giving Jeongguk a purpose beyond the strong urge to breed; to claim.

He did as he was told, slipping his hand beneath the drawstrings of his sweatpants and started touching himself in slow, teasing strokes. The moment he’d been struck with Yoongi’s heat and felt the warmth of it run beneath his skin, Jeongguk’s rut was suddenly there, the pain excruciating. It’d left him hard, dripping copiously inside his briefs with nothing to fuck. 

With Jimin out of the apartment, surrendering his phone and practically running his ass to Hoseok’s, Jeongguk had the place to himself. There was nothing holding him back when he leaned against the couch. “It’d be better if I were there,” Jeongguk sighed, unable to keep the sounds from escaping him. He was conscious of the fact that Yoongi enjoyed listening to him get off, attuned perfectly and affected so easily.

“I’ll hang up if you keep insisting on seeing me,” Yoongi threatened half-heartedly, fully aware that he couldn’t, not anymore, not since hearing Jeongguk’s voice. Yoongi grabbed for one of the new dildos he purchased, thick and heavy in his hands as he set it down inside his nest and placed it upright.

“You got yourself a toy then… is it as big as me?” Jeongguk asked, raising his hips to push his sweats down far enough so that he could spread comfortably. With his eyes closed, Jeongguk fell deeper into the fever burning up his skin. He liked the hitching of Yoongi’s breath, the small tells that an effort was being made, when Jeongguk knew the omega didn’t like putting any in during his heat.

Yoongi was the perfect pillow princess, miserable and whiny, needing to be taken care of, and as an alpha, there was an innate satisfaction that Jeongguk felt in doing so. Carved into his marrow, running through his blood, long before the mark, beneath all of his instincts, Jeongguk loved Yoongi.

“N-No, it’s n-not as big as you, but it’s pretty fucking big.” Yoongi gasped as he lowered himself onto the soft silicone. He was sensitive all over, body pliant and easy to fuck as slick seeped around the smooth, bulbous tip of the toy breaching his hole, curving right up into him, stretching and filling him up.

“You’re gonna need both hands to bounce yourself, baby. Put me on speaker, let alpha have a listen, too.” Jeongguk swallowed thickly, salivating at the thought of what their bedroom must’ve smelled like right now. Floral sweetness, sugarplums, steeped blossoms and then that deeper note: the arousal belying the honey with days’ worth of sex.

He could get high on just the fantasy alone: Yoongi rolling his hips onto a toy that would never, ever feel as good as him. It would never be enough. Never. But watching him try would be worth it. Jeongguk wasn’t averse to the thought; in fact, he liked the idea of Yoongi realizing it at that very moment—his thighs growing tired, the deep ache inside his stomach unfulfilled due to the absence of his mate.

They needed each other, now more than ever.

Jeongguk could tell the instant he was on speaker, the quality having dropped, but it was still clear enough to make out the little sighs and moans slipping from Yoongi’s stubborn mouth. “Good hyung, you’re so good for me,” Jeongguk praised him gently as he once again focused on himself, rolling his wrist in a familiar rhythm over his cock.

After all this time, there was little reason to be shy about it, Jeongguk feeding Yoongi his every breathy sigh, every guttural moan. Yoongi’s noises were pained, little whimpers and gasps that seemed to reverberate throughout Jeongguk’s body—the connection he felt through marking Yoongi had only intensified everything, the pleasure being shared as well as the ache.

It was so satisfying, the connection of the mark—not a thought that Jeongguk had been too keen to share with his better half. Not while Yoongi was clearly against it.

“I wanna fucking eat you up. You sound pretty, always so fucking pretty,” Jeongguk ground through his teeth. Yoongi’s slick was sweeter, more potent and irresistible around his heat. The young alpha could spend hours between Yoongi’s thighs, lapping at and sucking up the pungent mess of Yoongi’s arousal. Jeongguk snarled at the thought of being rejected this time around as he picked up the pace—fucking into his fist with earnest, his knot swelling the closer he was to release. 

Jeongguk’s words worked better than the friction to get Yoongi off, the sharpest hint of a growl residing in his alpha’s throat. Yoongi’s skin prickled, terrified of how badly he wanted to hear it. “Jeongguk-ah, you feel so good,” Yoongi cried, arching his back as he ground deeply onto the toy, its soft ridges rubbing against his prostate.

“You’re testing my limits, omega,” Jeongguk bit out, hot and ragged into the phone. 

Yoongi shuddered pleasantly, licking his lips. “You should shut up and knot me then, alpha.”

He fucking would. Jeongguk would if he could; if he were permitted to come home, he’d fuck Yoongi in their bed, smother his mouth until he couldn’t say anything smart anymore.

Primal, raw, hungry—Jeongguk finally did growl, the sound going straight to Yoongi’s stomach, his orgasm crashing through him. Dizzied, thoughtlessly, he had Jeongguk’s name inside his mouth, calling to him sweetly. Again and again, overly sensitive, delirious from the ache that’d seemed to double in its intensity. Yoongi came again, whimpering softly. Jeongguk followed him the second time, knotting into his fist.

“Yoongi, baby…” Jeongguk shook, clenching his jaw as he painted his knuckles with cum. “It’s such a waste, all of this mess.” He couldn’t stop himself, even if he truly wanted to. “All of alpha’s cum, everywhere, except for inside your stomach.”

Yoongi was still shaking when he reached over for his charger and plugged in his phone. “I’m gonna unblock your number, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t fix what you did to me.”

Jeongguk sighed, closing his eyes against the argument that was left unfinished between them, but agreed all the same. “Sure, hyung. You know I’ll help you through your heat, even if it’s through the phone.”

Yoongi hummed at Jeongguk’s easy obedience, almost relieved by it. “Good alpha.” 

Returning to work was a bigger pain in the ass than Yoongi expected it to be. His coworkers were nosey, desperate for their daily gossip. They could see the mark on Yoongi’s neck, his buttoned-up work shirt doing little to hide it. Jeongguk’s bite was further up than Yoongi had originally thought; he had so scarcely looked at the mark in the mirror, focusing solely on his hair in the morning. 

Jeongguk wasn’t a secret. The baby alpha belonged to Yoongi and everyone knew it, which was scandalous enough at first. He’d come to plenty of boring, stuffy company parties as Yoongi’s date, introducing himself as Yoongi’s boyfriend, since mate hadn’t been suitable. Not truly, not until now. Yoongi was congratulated throughout the day, like it’d all been some sort of planned arrangement. As if Yoongi had wanted to be mated.

It was the overly chatty woman in the cubicle behind Yoongi’s who teased, ‘Should we expect to hear wedding bells soon?’

What was the point? Yoongi wanted to snap, but he didn’t enjoy showing unnecessary emotion. Maybe a small part of him was determined to protect Jeongguk from any scrutiny other than his own, which stopped him from running his mouth to all their friends. What mattered was that Yoongi and Jeonggukk were now joined in the most intimate of ways. Yoongi had been branded unwillingly, even if it were at the hands of someone he loved. Someone he couldn’t possibly be without and yet there he was, giving it his very best—living without Jeongguk.

JK ( 12:38pm ):
Call me.

And sometimes Yoongi’s very best wasn’t good enough. At least, in matters of the heart.

He scooted himself away from his desk and tucked the lanyard with his work ID into the front pocket of his shirt. Yoongi didn’t want to fight it. Stepping onto the elevator, he could already feel himself growing hard, affected by a single text message that’d only consisted of two words. It was the fact that Yoongi knew what Jeongguk wanted and that was reason enough. Ever since the alpha helped him through his heat, they hadn’t stopped talking to one another.

Yoongi hadn’t intended on texting Jeongguk back to begin with, but an excuse had presented itself when it came to clarifying certain aspects of their dreams. Yoongi needed to know what belonged to him and what didn’t. For instance, last night he dreamt that he’d been the one to bite and permanently mark Jeongguk. And the alpha seemed to have enjoyed it. There were no tears of betrayal or cries of discomfort. Instead Jeongguk’s hands grew tight around his waist, drawing the omega into his lap, the scenario escalating to sex. Amazing, rough, intense sex. Always sex.

He could’ve sworn it was meant to be a bad dream. Yoongi felt it in his bones that it was supposed to become a whole ass nightmare, but it was more than likely that Jeongguk had interrupted it, turning Yoongi’s fear into fantasy. It was downright pornographic, vivid in ways that only the mark could accomplish between a mated pair—so intense that it’d startled Yoongi awake, finding that he was covered in sweat and slick.

Now it was Jeongguk’s turn to search for an excuse, none of which would actually warrant a phone call. It was obvious what it was for anyway, Yoongi giving into the inevitable outcome. Besides, he was in no position to fight it, the mark flaring when Yoongi so much as thought about Jeongguk. He wondered if it was the same for the alpha. Maybe that’s why they needed to keep in what felt like constant contact, even if Yoongi’s heart seemed to ache each time.  

The team on the sixth floor was out at a mandatory workshop, leaving the bathroom empty. Yoongi seized the opportunity as he made his way there and locked the door behind him for privacy. The whole thing was absurd, Jeongguk knowing full well that he was at work, that he was busy, that he didn’t have time for this fucked up routine of theirs.

No, Yoongi didn’t have time—and no, Jeongguk didn’t care, but at the end of the day, they both couldn’t resist.

He stepped into one of the stalls and started calling Jeongguk, shoving his back against the cool surface behind him. He was half-hard inside his work slacks, the warmth inside his stomach bound to make him slick.


Yoongi’s lashes fluttered at his alpha’s voice, always so affected. “I’m at work. Can’t it wait until later?”

“I’d let you bite me.” There was no hesitance to that statement, no obvious hint of fear or doubt. Besides, Jeongguk wasn’t prone to lying. Yoongi wouldn’t question his sincerity, however it didn’t make what he was proposing sound any less ridiculous. “Every night if you wanted to, a thousand times, however many times it takes. Tell me what I need to do, hyung.”

Too bad that it was impossible for an omega to mark an alpha—the scar would heal within a day. The gesture was much like Jeongguk’s own nature, sweet and generous. He gave so much of himself to their relationship, taking a huge leap of faith when Yoongi insisted on moving to the city, telling Jeongguk that he didn’t need his parent’s money anymore, that he would take care of everything.

“Why would I want to do to you the same thing I didn’t want happening to me? Hm, Gguk-ah?” Yoongi chuckled when there was no immediate response, all too aware of how harsh it must’ve sounded, words a knife’s edge. It was a bitter topic to begin with and although they hadn’t exhausted it through arguments, Yoongi was already sick of it. “Did you think you could trick me into wanting to mark you? Warping my nightmares into your fantasies? Did you think it'd fix things?”

There was a quiet hum of confusion. Yoongi could hear the concern thick in Jeongguk’s voice when he questioned, “My fantasies? Did you have a dream last night?”

Yoongi grew still at the insinuation, his joints locked with tension. “No, don’t even try it. We had the same dream! Why else would you start with, ‘I’d let you bite me’?”

“Because it’s what I’ve been thinking about, non-stop. We’re always on my mind. The purpose of this phone call was to tell you that I’ll do anything.” Jeongguk could feel the muscle in his jaw twitch, wondering if Yoongi would ever allow things to go back to normal, even if he was forgiven. “And sorry to break it to you, but I pulled an all-nighter at the lab, developing film for a magazine piece at the last minute. I haven’t even slept yet.”

“But…” Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as his heart started pounding hard against his chest, his fingertips clammy and numb with nerves. 

Jeongguk pressed him, determined, “You bit me in your dream and then what, you liked it? Did it feel good taking from me what I’ve supposedly taken from you?”

“I couldn’t do that even if I tried to,” Yoongi whispered, fighting the familiar chills of anxiety coursing through him. This was about to become an argument. 

“We share the same bond, same claim. Together. The only difference is that your mark is visible, but everyone can smell that we’re mated.” Jeongguk wanted to understand, he needed to. It’d been wrong biting Yoongi—his wolf selfishly acting before Jeongguk could even register what’d happened, his mouth suddenly filled with the bittersweet taste of Yoongi’s blood.

“It’s not about that, it’s…” Yoongi knew how fucked up this was going to be, he knew, but he needed to finally say it. Seeping through the creases of teeth and tongue, Yoongi let his fears spill out. “You could control me… and make me do things…”

Jeongguk’s reaction came the moment the shock wore off, trembling with lividity. He was seething. “I would never—I haven’t even thought of it. I would’ve been able to do that the moment our wolves bonded years ago. How could you even think that of me? Such a disgusting thing, Yoongi, that I would try to control you. What the fuck do you think I’m capable of?”

Jeongguk was angrier than Yoongi had ever heard him and he had every right to be. It was the worst insult he’d ever dared to hurt Jeongguk with, even more so without Jeongguk knowing his reason.

Yoongi sighed heavily, breathing in and exhaling deeply, trying to calm himself down. He was terrified of this conversation. “I didn’t think he was capable either, but he did it anyway and now, because of the mark, there’d be no use in fighting my alpha’s command.”

Confused, hurt beyond measure, Jeongguk pushed through it all. “Wait—who are you talking about? Who was capable?”

It was difficult for Yoongi to answer him, overcome with shame as tears flooded his vision and he sank against the stall, his legs barely keeping him upright. He could feel Jeongguk through the mark, eyes slamming shut against the burn of it, the way it was making him feel sick.


“My father,” he murmured quietly. 

“Your father commanded you to do what? I swear to everything in me, if he hurt you—”

Yoongi wiped at his face angrily, releasing a shaky breath. “I have to go.”

He didn’t give Jeongguk the chance to say anything else, turning his phone off for the remainder of the day. It felt like he was in a stupor—typing up his reports, walking through the parking garage to his car, driving himself home, and slipping into pajamas. Yoongi was too nauseated to eat, the mark applifying how much pain they were in; he couldn’t stand it.

If Yoongi had been any angier, he would’ve bugged Taehyung about the beta he was currently dating. ‘Namjoon’. They’d yet to formally meet, but Yoongi doubted he would be turned away. Only betas could remove a mark from an omega, severing the bonds completely. Typically, it was imperative for each pack to have at least one beta to balance everything out, classifying them as healers.

However, there was a terrible stipulation one must go through in order to remove the mark. It would require wiping all of the omega’s memories until they as well their wolf could no longer identify their mate. Naturally, without a connection their body would reject it and, within a matter of days, the mark would disappear. The thought alone had been enough to tear Yoongi apart, unable to conceive of doing such a thing, wondering how many wolves had already done so.

Yoongi couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting Jeongguk, no matter how upset he was—leaving him with the cold realization that he had no choice but to deal with being mated permanently. 

Time was tricky, especially for the traumatized. Everything seemed to function and move a little bit differently, constantly exhausted, endlessly processing at a much slower rate.

It felt like yesterday that Yoongi was putting his head beneath the water, his small arms raised above his head uselessly— drowning .

Two months without Jeongguk.

Yoongi had to remind himself that it’d been that long, because it didn’t feel real to him. And sometimes, right before it stormed, Yoongi would be hit with the sweet, earthy smell of ozone. He would toe off his house slippers and step out into the rain, inhaling so hard it hurt. Heady petrichor, chemicals and earth, lightning tearing through oxygen, rain pounding into the ground, sending fine particles into the air. That’s when he found Jeongguk best.

It was in those too-rare moments that Yoongi could pretend that Jeongguk was there with him. With his eyes shut, he would extend his palms upwards to feel the soft, cool pelts of raindrops against his skin. He wished he could touch Jeongguk again, run his fingers through the alpha’s long, shoulder-length hair—tie it up like he used to, brush and blow dry it after a shower.

He missed the way Jeongguk would shift lower on the mattress, pressing his face into Yoongi’s chest. From that angle, Yoongi used to breathe in the faintest notes of floral from Jeongguk’s shampoo and conditioner, along with petal water and rainstorms. 

Yoongi’s phone started going off a moment later, pulling him from his reverie. It was Taehyung, possibly sour that he hadn’t returned any of the young omega’s calls. He swiped to answer and was immediately assailed with the small yips from Taehyung’s new puppy.

Taehyung was high energy, bubbly and happy. “Yoongi-hyung! I’ve been trying to contact you for weeks now.”

“I’m really sorry. Work has been…” It didn’t even feel worth it, lying to Taehyung. He didn’t like doing it. Evading things wasn’t working; it was actually causing more damage to his friendships. He bit at the corner of his lip, the pain enough to startle him. “Doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

“It all matters to me. You know that and there’s no need to be sorry. I get it,” Taehyung said, the last statement softer, more resolute. Taehyung would understand heartbreak. Jimin saw to it. “Well, I wanted you to be the first one I told, but now you’re probably the twentieth. Anyways, Namjoonie-hyung and I have moved in together.”

That was big news. Yoongi should be happy for him. He should feel something. He tried with everything in him to emulate some level of normalcy. “Congratulations, Tae! That’s really great. I had no idea things were already this serious.”

Taehyung laughed at that, pleased, “We’re in love, hyung. Time means nothing.”

There it was again: time.

“Of course,” Yoongi agreed, just to be kind. No more being morose, no more cynicism. Taehyung deserved better than that. “Time means nothing when it’s fate.”

“We think alike. That’s why you’re my favorite.” Yoongi couldn’t help but snort at that, knowing that he was not Taehyung’s real favorite. Seokjin, constantly feeding him pastries and making him laugh, that was probably more accurate. “I’m calling because we’re throwing a housewarming party and I’d really, really like it if you were there.”

Yoongi ignored the ‘no, thank you’ that was steadily climbing up the back of his throat. It was impulsive, to shut down plans, even self-made ones. “When is it?”

“This Saturday.”

A weekend when Yoongi was guaranteed to be off.

“Do you know if Jeongguk will be there?” There was no sense in beating around the bush. Their friends all knew what was going on between him and Jeongguk—and Yoongi wouldn’t put it past Taehyung to try and get them alone together on purpose, even if it meant buying a new apartment just to orchestrate the damn thing.

“He didn’t definitively say that he would be,” Taehyung said, almost with a measure of hope that it would be good enough.

“Or that he won’t be,” Yoongi sang back to him.

It wasn't often that Taehyung lost his patience, but when he did, he tended to be more daring, his temperament borderline intolerable. “You can’t just not see us forever, hyung! The pack needs to bond and you’re… you’re pissing all over it.”

“Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi admonished, genuinely surprised. 

Taehyung was yelling now, “Well, you are! And don’t you think—you’ve punished yourselves for way too long now? I mean, how could you even bear to stay apart from each other?”


“No!” Yoongi shut his mouth, having no choice but to sit there in disbelief as Taehyung kept going, “When Jimin and I… when we broke up, it felt like every part of me was splintered and sometimes, I couldn’t even breathe. I was dying and sometimes—I can feel it, all the splinters and like it's really going to kill me, because we’re…connected in ways that can’t be undone and we still are!”

How could Yoongi tell him that he wasn’t convinced it was over between them—Jimin and Taehyung, even though they were currently dating other people, dancing and flirting around each other endlessly. But he’d seen the way Jimin looked at Taehyung and Taehyung himself was so, so transparent.

“I know…” Yoongi tried soothing him. He could tell that Taehyung was more than a little upset and that it probably made him feel raw. It didn’t seem like they were going to move on from each other. “But even when you and Jimin fell out, not really ‘cause you’re still around each other, constantly, we gave you all the space you needed, right?”

“Yeah, but maybe you shouldn’t have,” Taehyung whispered softly.

Fuck. Yoongi couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the sentiment. Instead, he decided to placate Taehyung, if only to make him feel a little bit better. “No promises, but I’m going to try my best to be there. Okay?”

Taehyung sighed in relief, happiness once again evident in his tone, “Thanks, hyung. It’d mean a lot to me.”

Yoongi knew that as well.

For hours, he lied in bed, overthinking the possibilities of what might happen should he and Jeongguk cross paths on Saturday. A confrontation of sorts? An argument, where Yoongi spilled all the terrible details about his childhood. Or could it be bittersweet? He’d long since muzzled the feeble cries and howls of his wolf in a desperate attempt to lessen the unquestionably devastating effects of Jeongguk’s absence. There was a primal need for them to be reunited physically, Yoongi requiring a different kind of marking.

Even though Yoongi smelled like he was mated, properly taken and claimed, he didn’t smell like his alpha or any alpha, not in the way that mattered in their society. Yoongi might as well be widowed with how dull and faded Jeongguk’s scent had become. Yoongi didn’t like it, despite everything.

The work week did him no favors. Yoongi was kept sufficiently busy, time seeming to pass by quicker. It was after his hair appointment on Friday evening, red hair lifted to a honey blond, that he knew that he was really doing it. He was going to go to the party tomorrow, however changed—more bitter than he’d ever been before. He could be the prime example of that shitty stereotype; another pretty omega with a broken heart.

He was too driven to allow something as insignificant as nerves to get in his way. Searching his closet, Yoongi settled for a pair of black fitted jeans and a dark long-sleeved shirt, the collar loose along the delicate wings of his collarbone. He wore his favorite necklace and a couple of his rings, plentiful piercings dangling strands of silver from his ears.

This wasn’t for Jeongguk—not at all. It’d just been awhile since Yoongi showed his face to his friends, his family. The least he could do was look presentable. He’d even stopped off to grab two bottles of expensive wine, expecting Taehyung’s party to be a small, intimate gathering of his closest friends.

Yoongi knew the moment he’d seen Jackson step out of his car that it wasn’t that kind of party. In fact, he opted not to bring the wine inside the house, refusing to embarrass himself.

The building was nice at least—not necessarily reflecting Taehyung’s meager paychecks as a shift manager at Lotteria, still working on his bachelor’s degree. However, Namjoon was an English professor, several years older than Taehyung, which probably helped fill in the rest of the gaps. 

Yoongi looked around for a motorcycle, Jeongguk’s specifically, and felt an odd sense of both relief and disappointment when there were no such findings. It didn’t seem like the alpha was there, Yoongi stepping onto the elevator and riding it to the sixteenth floor. He could hear the music flooding through the hallway, the door to Taehyung’s apartment left wide open.

He had to wonder if Taehyung was aware that he was being a nuisance, his neighbors bound to grow annoyed with his antics. At least, that’s what Yoongi would’ve firmly stated if Taehyung hadn’t already charmed his entire floor. With an arm wrapped around Yoongi’s shoulder, Taehyung introduced him. “This is Mr. Lee, he’s in the apartment at the end of the hall. He has six cats. Six, hyung.”

Yoongi was half-tempted to warn the guy that Taehyung was about to become a frequent visitor. He smiled instead, being polite—pretending like his nerves weren’t frayed, as though he were capable of holding conversations instead of looking around the room for a certain baby-faced alpha. There were too many pheromones circulating, difficult to separate and distinguish.

Jimin was in a chair next to Hoseok, fingers teasing his omega’s dark strands. Taehyung performed about as well as Yoongi did under these circumstances, willing to tear his heart into shreds over and over again in order to keep their pack together. Seokjin was in the middle of telling Namjoon a story, the one where they took a trip to Malta and he got wasted by himself because everyone else was tired, and he forgot the keycode to unlock the door, so he slept on a boat that'd been docked.

“He was like, one sip away from being blackout drunk. Sorority girl wasted,” Jimin teased, several beers in. Yoongi could tell by the flush of the young alpha’s skin, the fact that Jimin was making such unflattering remarks. He was surprised Seokjin was letting it slide, cackling at Jimin’s comparison.

Seokjin nodded towards Yoongi, bringing his beer to his lips for a quick sip. “Wow, look who’s alive and blond for the fiftieth time, kids.”

There were mutual chirps of ‘hyung’ from Jimin and Hoseok upon seeing Yoongi standing there. Taehyung steered Yoongi towards Namjoon, intent on this happening—their meeting one another. He knew what Taehyung was expecting to come from this, that Yoongi would approve, that they’d instantly connect and bond.

Namjoon was quick to get up from his seat, bowing politely. ‘Kiss-ass,’ Yoongi groused inwardly, though not entirely displeased. At least he had manners, unlike Taehyung’s last boyfriend. Yoongi sent a side-glance over in Jimin’s direction, unsurprised to find him watching Taehyung’s every move. Hoseok was whispering something into his ear, something intimate, Jimin wetting his lips as his eyes remained heavy on Taehyung.

“Tae, come here,” Jimin beckoned sweetly, gesturing him over by the crook of his finger. It was typical that the younger omega was all too willing to obey Jimin, even while he’d caught himself a very attentive, handsome beta.

Namjoon was sipping his drink, a quiet smile tugging against his lips. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Taehyung speaks highly of you, says you’re the hyung who cares most about him.”

“As a pack, we distribute our care equally as family should,” Yoongi murmured as he stared curiously at Namjoon, the way his eyes glazed over at Yoongi’s statement. That word, family. Poor lonely beta, trying to find a home. Another stereotype. Yoongi laughed mirthlessly, a small ‘ah’ escaping him. “Do you even like Taehyung?”

“You shouldn’t undermine my feelings for him. I’ve never met anyone like Taehyung before. He’s smart, kind, and a little childish but...” Yoongi followed Namjoon’s gaze back towards the table, where Taehyung was seated in Jimin’s lap, his legs stretched across Hoseok’s thighs, engaged in conversation. “Taehyung’s heart lies elsewhere. It’s true that when wolves are destined, they can’t resist each other, and so long as there’s room for me, I’m willing to stand beside him. No matter what comes from it.”

“Oh, you mean the impending eventuality of four wolves bonded and mated together,” Yoongi said, shaking his head, declining the thought of what kind of hell awaited them if that were to happen. That could be Yoongi’s pragmatic outlook on everything talking, prone to being cynical. As difficult and chaotic as that would be, it wasn’t unheard of, especially with a beta to keep everything stable.

“Possibly five,” Namjoon tacked on, as he raised his glass to Seokjin, who in turn sent him back a wink, absolutely sassy and on-brand. Yoongi had suffered through the older alpha’s embarrassing bouts of flirtation before, relying heavily on the fact that Seokjin was gorgeous, modelesque with a yummy scent. Yoongi didn’t know what to do with them flirting so openly—Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok included, as if it was something in the air.

That, or maybe it was because Yoongi has been gone for so long. He didn’t even notice what was happening with his friends. He didn’t even have the decency to ask if there was anything new with Jeongguk, keeping conversations on the phone to a minimum.

Yoongi changed the topic, needing time to digest what was happening right in front of him. “So, how good are you?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Namjoon was chuckling nervously, his eyes as wide as saucers as though Yoongi just inquired about something scandalous.

“At healing,” Yoongi specified, dropping his eyes from Namjoon’s in fear of cracking his own smile. He didn’t need to be amused right now. He didn't want to like Namjoon right away.

Namjoon’s smile broadened with confidence, his dimples set deeply. “I’m pretty good.”

“Show me,” Yoongi challenged, raising his hand towards Namjoon. There was a small cut on the top of his hand, having brushed up against a thorn earlier. It’d been worth it for a lungful of primrose. Namjoon took Yoongi’s hand into his own and held it steady, inspecting the wound. The beta concentrated as he swiped his thumb over the gash—and cleared it from Yoongi’s skin as though it were never there to begin with.

“Good,” Yoongi acknowledged, sliding his hand from Namjoon’s grasp. He felt cold all over, morbid curiosity getting the better of him, when he asked, “How are you with removing a mating mark?”

Namjoon’s mouth parted, a short breath escaping him. Yoongi saw it, the moment when concern turned to fear, the beta’s eyes staring past Yoongi to something behind him, or—someone. Yoongi could feel the mark like a bruise, sensitive to the touch as he curled a hand over it.

He should’ve picked up on it sooner, even while standing in a room filled with other wolves. Jeongguk’s scent was familiar, safe in ways that still made sense in Yoongi’s mind, inside his heart. Now it was everywhere; a storm in a meadow, honey and rain from summer suckles, a sweet perfume that complemented Jeongguk’s earthy musk. Yoongi’s mouth watered as he inhaled softly, helplessly drawn to the lightning striking each of his senses, electricity shooting down his spine.

Jeongguk was angry. Yoongi could feel it, smell it, taste it. He must’ve overheard them, he must think—

Yoongi’s skin prickled with chills and he felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as he turned around, lifting his gaze from the floor. After months of not seeing Jeongguk, no longer living and breathing in the same space, he didn’t know if he was ready, even if it’d felt like he’d been waiting and waiting for this moment.

Jeongguk was a standing monolith in a packed room, impossible to miss. The immediate area disturbed by the pheromones rolling off of him, smelling like flooded cities and disaster. But Jeongguk looked different, perhaps as changed as Yoongi tried to become. His long, shoulder-length hair had been cut to the tops of his cheeks, his right eyebrow pierced through with a silver barbell. They’d only discussed Jeongguk getting a couple tattoos and there he was, having acquired a whole sleeve within the time they were apart.

Yoongi was supposed to be the one hurt and yet he felt like he was in trouble. He wasn’t used to Jeongguk being angry with him. He didn’t know why an apology was on the tip of his tongue.

Jeongguk was the first one to speak, his voice low and notably controlled, quite possibly needing it. “I need to talk to you.”

“Aren’t you being too presumptuous right now?” Yoongi asked, pointedly ignoring the silence of their pack. He knew if he looked over his shoulder that he'd find them observing, failing to pretend like that wasn’t the case. “What makes you think I’m interested in discussing anything with you right now?”

Jeongguk’s expression grew darker the less cooperative Yoongi was, continuing to deny what their wolves needed, what the mark was calling for them to do. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Yoongi laughed at that, as though it were all good fun. “Wouldn’t I?”

Cautiously, Jeongguk took a step forward and then another. He didn't stop until he was standing in front of Yoongi. At such close proximity, the omega could hardly think—he couldn’t move, body growing still with the promise of Jeongguk’s touch. He was starved for it, which wasn't something Yoongi would willingly admit to at the moment. 

Hyung,” Jeongguk pleaded softly, despite his anger being so heavy and prevalent, but Yoongi wasn't concerned with Jeongguk’s temper.

“The guest room is down the hall, on the left,” Taehyung mentioned casually, hiding the smallest twitch of a smirk into his fist, feigning boredom. As if Jimin’s hand wasn’t teasing up the back of his shirt, caressing his skin—a whole hell of a lot for Taehyung to deal with.

Yoongi relented, if only to get away from having to do this with an audience. He stared up at Jeongguk, holding his gaze there. “Fine, but piss me off and I’m leaving.”

Jeongguk raised his pierced brow at the threat, but didn’t dare try to argue the terms. He had little choice if he wanted to speak with Yoongi. Once again, the omega was the one in control. Yoongi had lived his entire life that way.

It wasn’t a good idea to be following after Jeongguk, pushing their way through the crowd of people dancing and socializing, the majority of them already inebriated and clingy. Yoongi was half-expecting Jeongguk to reach back for his hand, but it never came. The alpha knocked to see if the room was occupied, before he walked in.

Yoongi pressed his back against the door once it was shut. The tension was inescapable, suffocating with only a few steps between them. Jeongguk’s scent was more condensed when they were away from everyone else, easier for Yoongi to get lost in. It was both too much and not enough.

Licking his lips, completely on edge, Yoongi bit out, “What do you want?”

“What…do I want?” Jeongguk asked, eyes narrowed at Yoongi dangerously. There was a growl in each syllable, all storm showers and thunder when he demanded, “What the fuck do you want?”

Yoongi was so good at this game, he knew exactly how to push Jeongguk’s buttons, how to frustrate and hurt him. “I wanted an alpha who could control himself, but that clearly isn’t you, is it?” Yoongi schooled his expression into one that was passive, cold. He asked again, voice harsh, “Is it?”

Jeongguk nodded, accepting the blow like he was prepared for it. “Yes, how you relish in reminding me. I lost control—and even if I apologized to you again and again for the rest of my life, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Because I could fucking smell your elation, I still do. You’re so proud of yourself for having finally marked your bitch. Thank you for making sure everyone could see it.” Yoongi tilted his head to the side, showing Jeongguk the shimmering scar, iridescent and beautiful against the omega’s pale skin. “Do you think it’s pretty, alpha?”

Jeongguk knew that Yoongi was taunting him, words tinged with sarcasm, daring him to show bits and pieces of his true nature. Every part of Jeongguk that was alpha felt deeply satisfied, taking in the mark with eyes much sharper, more wolf than man, irises glowing crimson.

“You’ve always been pretty,” was Jeongguk’s way of side-stepping the question.

Yoongi pressed him, waiting for Jeongguk’s possessive side to show—that part of him he couldn’t keep restrained. “Your pretty omega?”

“My pretty Yoongi,” Jeongguk reiterated carefully, and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. He needed to focus, but Yoongi’s scent was strong, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in slowly. “Are you going to ask Namjoon to remove your mark? Do you find being mated to me so repulsive that you’d rather forget me, than be with me?”

“I’m repulsed by the thought of being controlled by you,” Yoongi murmured and laughed sadly at how ridiculous it was, especially when finally saying it to Jeongguk’s face, instead of over the phone. He exhaled the air out of his lungs, trembling. “And I already know that you wouldn’t, but the fear that you could is still there.”

“Fear isn’t supposed to be rational. Fear, I can understand, but your wolf had already submitted to mine. I wouldn’t need the mark to control you,” Jeongguk said, Yoongi shaking his head, refusing to have it clarified. “But it’s the truth, Yoongi. I didn’t mean to bite you as hard as I did, and I swear, I didn’t know that it would initiate the mark, but you’re right… I really don’t regret it.”

Yoongi’s eyes flashed blue, glaring at the alpha with hostility. “Fuck you.”

Jeongguk chuckled lowly, an edge to his tone, “No, it’s fuck you, Yoongi.” He closed the distance with each slow, graceful step towards Yoongi, steadily nearing with each word, growing heated. “Fuck you for putting this off for so long, refusing to see me, hiding things from me, being secretive. Fuck you for calling me every time you needed to fuck, using me…”

Yoongi sucked in a breath, his head swimming with his alpha’s scent. Jeongguk was so close, the air between them mingling as one. “Jeongguk—”

“Was it fun toying with me? Spending our heat week on the phone, in pain together, that ache never to be sated, sick for days. How romantic,” Jeongguk whispered close to him, mouth falling to Yoongi’s ear when the omega turned his face away with a shudder. “You were cruel, giving me hope that we could fix things, hyung, but you wanna forget me.”

“I don’t,” Yoongi gasped, curling his fingers into the front of Jeongguk’s shirt, feeling the fight beginning to leave his system. He was weak against Jeongguk, tired of pushing him away. It wasn’t fair, Yoongi knew that.

“You do,” Jeongguk insisted, mouth catching on the piercings adorning Yoongi’s ear, teeth pressing into his skin. “Even if you don’t want the mark removed, you’ve made efforts to get rid of me. You’re shutting me out, hyung. Tell me—just tell me what happened, please...”

Yoongi wasn’t ready to tell Jeongguk. He needed to feel safe, wanted to get closer, needed to be skin against skin. He leaned up on his toes with his fingers wound tight in Jeongguk’s hair, guiding his mouth to his mating mark—letting out a startled sound when Jeongguk ran his tongue in circles over the bite, a growl simmering low inside his chest.

“Oh, fuck...” Yoongi held onto him, sliding an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulder. It wasn’t enough. He needed more, the howls of his wolf carrying through his veins. Every fiber of Yoongi’s being begged to be scented, reveling in Jeongguk’s pheromones, so strong and heady, drowning them both.

Jeongguk pulled back with blood-red eyes, his lips swollen from sucking and licking at Yoongi’s throat. “If I give you more, will you try to forgive me?” Yoongi nodded, lashes fluttering softly, swaying as though he were drunk, skin flushed a pretty shade of pink. Jeongguk nudged a finger beneath Yoongi’s chin, tilting the omega’s head back so that they were staring at one another. “You’ll tell me everything?”

Yoongi nodded once more and leaned into the press of Jeongguk’s thumb against his chin. “You’ll let me come home?” Jeongguk asked, voice hushed as he leaned in close, tasting Yoongi’s breath, teasing him with the promise of a kiss.

“Yes,” Yoongi whispered, closing his eyes when Jeongguk brushed their lips together softly, sweetly. He felt like he was breaking apart at the contact, in need of relief. Why would Jeongguk ever need to give Yoongi a command when he was already this far gone, all too willing to comply to his every whim. Making a decision, Yoongi reached a hand back and twisted the lock shut, letting the alpha know what he needed.

Jeongguk fell motionless at the sound, how definitive it was, the implication. The more he thought about it, they wouldn’t have made it very far anyway. Not with how good Yoongi smelled, Jeongguk breathing in lungfuls of the omega’s rich, cloying sweetness that seemed to coat his tongue, the smooth line of his throat, the familiar space between his thighs.

Yoongi’s slick was aromatic, redolent of blossoms and sugar and Jeongguk wanted to drink it down, exploit it until his omega’s quiet humiliation was complete and total. “Missed you so much,” he breathed, swallowing Yoongi’s response, licking into his mouth, deepening the kiss. The messier, the filthier it was, the more desperate they were to get back the minutes, hours, days lost.

The hurt felt palpable still, an ache impossible to quell with the burn of a kiss. Jeongguk lifted the omega with ease, Yoongi’s legs clinging to his sides, finding himself pinned between the firm press of Jeongguk’s body and the door. It was moments like these when Yoongi had no other choice but to admire how much taller, broader, stronger Jeongguk was, caging Yoongi in effortlessly.

It felt the alpha was everywhere at once, deft fingers pulling on the button of Yoongi’s jeans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, hard enough to elicit a sharp noise from him. Jeongguk spoke through the grazing of his canines, the curls of his tongue, “It still feels like a daydream, being able to touch and taste you, hyung.”

Aah—you better not wake up then—fuck, Jeongguk.” Yoongi gasped when he was further hiked up into the alpha’s arms, Jeongguk sliding his hands beneath denim and cotton to squeeze at Yoongi’s ass possessively. He could feel how terribly wet he was, slick covering the backs of Yoongi’s thighs—when Jeongguk dug his nails into his soft flesh and parted him wide in his grasp.

Jeongguk brushed their mouths together slowly, eyes watching one another through fevered gazes, primal and hungry. “You make such a pretty mess, dripping for my knot.”

“You make me this way,” Yoongi accused and moaned when Jeongguk pressed into him, using his hold on Yoongi’s ass to grind their hips together firmly. Yoongi leaned his head back with a weak cry, hands braced on Jeongguk’s shoulders. Everything felt so good, the effects of the mark making it even more so, echoes of pleasure coursing throughout their bodies. “Now show me how much alpha missed me.”

Jeongguk trembled with the effort it took just to hold himself back, even when it was permissible. Yoongi wanted him to fall into his instincts, which was the exact reason why they were in this predicament to begin with. Even while actively restraining himself, Jeongguk would give Yoongi what he wanted, precisely how he wanted it, running his tongue from the base of the omega’s neck to where the mark shimmered and pulsed against his skin.

Yoongi liked it rough, passionate, dizzying—his first orgasms were always so quick, adding kindling to the fire burning inside his stomach, yet no closer to being sated and finished.

It was easy leaving bruises, Yoongi was prone to them, his skin a delicate silk. No such material should carelessly be left around needle points, Jeongguk’s teeth grazing sharply, sucking deep bruises into Yoongi’s throat. He drew his tongue in circles over and over again, sliding his fingers down the cleft of Yoongi’s ass—dragging them through thick layers of slick.

Jeongguk inhaled against Yoongi’s neck until his lungs were full, his wolf content and pleased that Yoongi was thoroughly covered in his scent. “Pretty omega, all mine and no one else’s. You were made for me.” Jeongguk pressed his fingers against Yoongi’s rim and felt as he tensed, a small whimper escaping the older wolf’s rosy, doll-like lips. “Your pretty hole, too. Every part of you belongs to me. Say it with your pretty voice, hyung.”

“Yours, alpha...I’m yours...” Jeongguk started rubbing him with the pads of his fingertips, rewarding him, but never pushing in, while the other hand kept one cheek spread wide for easier access. “E-Every part of me… mm...

“What a good omega.” Jeongguk was proving his point thoroughly, consecutively. There didn’t need to be commands between them, Yoongi would willingly give his whole self without there being any need for compulsion. Yoongi’s submission was voluntary, as was Jeongguk’s. The alpha was devoted, enslaved to worshipping the ground Yoongi walked on. “Will you come like this for me? Just from me playing with you?”

Yoongi nodded, eyes like chips of blue ice, bright and illuminating. He was ethereal like this, Jeongguk losing his breath when Yoongi gasped, “Yes, alpha...”

He added pressure to each teasing stroke over Yoongi’s hole, could feel his muscles clench tightly, his hips jerking—beyond sensitive there, the sounds of Jeongguk’s fingers pressing against his slick-soaked rim were loud between them, the omega’s skin flushed and warmed with color. The humiliation was exquisite, but the pleasure made it impossible for Yoongi to mind it, moving his body in rhythm with Jeongguk’s fingers.

“That’s right, baby, like that,” Jeongguk cooed, encouraging him softly, lips brushing over Yoongi’s, drinking in his moans, smirking as they began to flow frequently, getting louder. It was all tunnel vision, disregarding where they were, and the fact there were guests right outside the door, other wolves with their keen senses and sensory sensitivities.

Yoongi wound his arms around Jeongguk’s neck, holding him close as he rolled his hips in earnest, chasing his release. He was a trembling mess when it struck, panting against Jeongguk’s mouth until his heart was steady. They stayed like that for several minutes, Jeongguk taking him apart with his tongue and teeth, pulling at Yoongi’s lips, using them to his content, consuming Yoongi completely.

He allowed Yoongi to slip from his arms, only enough to ensure that he landed on his feet safely. There was a familiar darkness to his gaze, heated with growing intent, an omega knowing that he was going to get what he wanted.

Wordlessly, Yoongi pulled his shirt over his head and drew his jeans and briefs down his pale legs. There was a noticeable mess of cum and slick, the smell so much more pungent—Jeongguk felt like his head was swimming, thoughts of restraint melting into nothing.

That honeyed scent—

Jeongguk was bound to lose his mind, the tug of his stomach and the pulse of his cock a constant reminder of his own needs. He was intent on making his omega perish in bliss, all for a taste of pleasure. Oblivion for an alpha was often a resisted headspace, no matter how good the sex was.

“You’re wearing too much,” Yoongi groused lightly, soft lips pulled into a pout as he started tugging Jeongguk’s shirt from his jeans. The alpha watched him with quiet fondness, the heat in his gaze simmering as he helped Yoongi, tossing the fabric elsewhere once it was off.

Yoongi could see it better, Jeongguk’s tattoos, an entire sleeve that started at his knuckles and spread to the top of his shoulder. Jeongguk could feel Yoongi’s response to it, the flare of want running between them, amplifying intensely. It was unbearable, the mounting tension—their wolves impatient. Yoongi couldn’t keep his hands from shaking when he started unbuckling Jeongguk’s belt, quickly growing frustrated.

“The fuck is wrong with me,” he hissed and watched as Jeongguk took over, pulling the leather free, sliding his jeans down his toned legs—briefs fitted, accencuating the muscles in his thighs. Yoongi’s mouth watered at the sight of Jeongguk, despite how many times they’ve done this, he was still just as enamored as he was the first time they slept together.

There was a playfulness dancing in Jeongguk’s eyes, expression darkening when he asked knowingly, “Nervous, hyung?”

“Always. I just—I need to feel you—it’s starting to hurt, being this wet, this raw,” Yoongi confessed, softening bit by bit, not realizing how touch-starved he was, missing Jeongguk, even when he was right there.

“Lie down, baby,” Jeongguk cooed, his tone overly confident, which should’ve irritated Yoongi like it usually did, but instead it made him feel safe, because he knew he was going to be taken care of. Before Yoongi could move, the alpha pressed his warm palm below Yoongi’s navel, holding him gently for a moment, and decided, “On your stomach.”

Yoongi did as he was told as he crawled onto the sheets, resting his head against the mattress with his hips raised, thighs spread invitingly. “You want me to present, like a proper bitch after all.”

“It was your words, not mine.” The bed sank beneath Jeongguk’s weight, tracing the backs of Yoongi’s legs with his fingertips, catching slick in its path. Senses overwhelming and spilling, Jeongguk brought them into his mouth and sucked them clean. He hummed appreciatively at the taste. “You’re the one who keeps insisting that you’re my pretty omega bitch. Can you fault me for indulging myself?”

“No, alpha,” Yoongi breathed, falling into a state of complacency when he felt Jeongguk’s hands pull him apart, the cool air sweeping over his damp skin. It gave Yoongi chills, anticipation prickling his skin. The quiet between seconds were unbearable as Jeongguk stared at him and did nothing else. “Jeongguk, please—”

The words died in his throat, stilling at the abrupt sensation of Jeongguk’s mouth on him, greedily fucking the point of his tongue in past his rim, thrusts shallow—before Jeongguk slurped noisily at the sticky, sweet slick that was accumulating quicker than it was being lapped up. The alpha was starved, absolutely ravenous as he pushed two fingers in alongside his tongue, going deeper, opening Yoongi up for him, even though his body was made to naturally accommodate the monstrous size of an alpha and their knot.

“Jeongguk… oh, fuck…oh...” Yoongi moaned, biting at his bottom lip to keep from crying out. Although, it was impossible to pretend like no one knew they were fucking. Impossible when Jeongguk was darting his tongue deep into Yoongi’s hole, large hands gripping him so hard the omega thought he was going to break.

“Do you not play with yourself when I’m not around, hyung?” Jeongguk asked, the words coming out ragged. Yoongi was plugged with three of Jeongguk’s fingers, the skin around his rim tender and pink from being used and fucked. His slick was seeping around Jeongguk’s knuckles. “It feels like you haven’t been fucked since your heat.”

“It isn’t the same. I needed you, even when I wanted to hurt you.” Yoongi was near trembling and closed his eyes, losing himself in the spike of Jeongguk’s pheromones, at his perverse curiosities. Yoongi wanted Jeongguk to stay riled. “You broke my heart, so I tried to break everything else. Come on…make me sorry, alpha.

“Yeah, bet you’d just fucking love that,” Jeongguk spat through his teeth, as he pulled himself out from his briefs and replaced his fingers with the thick head of his cock. “You’ve always been destructive, Yoongi. All you ever needed was a fucking reason,” he finished, words full of venom as he started sinking into the constrictive warmth of Yoongi’s body, feeding him every last inch until the omega was stretched full, the breath having been knocked from Yoongi's lungs.

The relief they felt struck instantly, both inestimable and boundless, enough to cause Jeongguk to quake, and Yoongi to shatter. There was no other way to define the completeness within the act, despite the crudeness of it all, when at its core there was love—love could not be disregarded, and it was left unfettered as a consequence. The mark would not entertain lies, having stripped them bare, emotions no more exposed to one another than an open wound.

Jeongguk’s thrusts were as punctuated as the words they spewed at each other, spoken through sharp breaths and choked sobs, unable to suppress it. “You need me, but you don’t want me,” Jeongguk murmured, using his hurt as momentum, making Yoongi ‘sorry’—nails buried into the soft flesh of the omega’s hips, leaving marks as he ground himself deeply. He closed his hand around the back of Yoongi’s neck, holding him firmly. “Down.”

Yoongi lowered his hips to the mattress, hissing at the sudden contact of cool sheets against his neglected cock. Jeongguk bracketed Yoongi’s thighs between his own. “Answer me, hyung. Did you really think you’d be fine without me? Without this?” Jeongguk rocked forward, the new angle allowing him to strike Yoongi’s prostate each and every time, rubbing over the sensitive bundle of nerves incessantly without any signs of reprieve.

“I—tried to, I trieda-ah—it d-didn’t work,” Yoongi cried between moans and felt as Jeongguk’s hand went to the front of his throat, drawing his head back.

With his cock nestled deep inside Yoongi, Jeongguk brushed his lips against the omega’s ear, humming softly. “You said that when your heart is broken, you break everything. Should I break you, Yoongi? Is that what you want? Would you be sorry then?”

“Yes, Jeongguk…yes, fuck…” Yoongi needed the friction, the pain, the pleasure. He needed to be fucked within an inch of his life. Tears started to sting his eyes as Jeongguk slid two fingers past his teeth, fucking them in and out of Yoongi’s mouth as he drove his cock into Yoongi’s prone form, riding him into the mattress.

The impact of each thrust was loud in the quiet of the bedroom, sounds wet and filthy, desperate and frequent. Yoongi was already close, tears rolling down his cheeks, mouth and hole stuffed to the brim. He loved it so much, eyes falling closed on him, groaning into the back of his throat as his orgasm tore through him. Jeongguk fucked him through the spasms.

“You feel so good when you come for me,” Jeongguk husked, the edge to his tone letting Yoongi know that the alpha was getting there. Jeongguk had obvious tells. He was chattier, dirtier, bolder—his thrusts were usually frenzied, determined to knot Yoongi as soon as possible.

Instead, Jeongguk pulled out, his cock dripping with Yoongi’s slick. He was guiding Yoongi onto his back, eagerly pushing back inside, and moaned at the pleasant sensation, so tight and hot around him. Red, luminous eyes fell to the mark shimmering against the side of Yoongi’s neck, Jeongguk’s chest aching fiercely at the sight of it. “I don’t want you to be sorry, hyung. I don’t even want to break you. I just want you to want to be mine.”

“I want to,” Yoongi whispered to him, arms splayed beside his head. The tears had yet to dry on his skin, his doll-like lips swollen and his nose tinted red. He was the vision of perfect surrender, too appetizing for Jeongguk’s wolf to ignore. “Ask me.”

Jeongguk raised a pierced brow at him. “Ask you what?

“If you can mark me.” Yoongi watched as several expressions flitted across Jeongguk’s face, a mix of surprise, hurt, and confusion until it dawned on him. Yoongi wanted it done the right way. He wanted his choice, which was something Jeongguk desperately wished he could go back and give him. If Yoongi could find some form of catharsis in acting it out or regain some sense of control, Jeongguk wanted to do it properly.

He leaned down, drawing Yoongi’s thighs with him and pressed a kiss against each shoulder, before he stared at his omega. There were no traces of fear, not like the last time. He withdrew his hips slowly and slammed back in, watching as Yoongi crumbled beneath him, head thrown back against the pillows. He was messy, covered in slick and cum, deliciously pliable and fucked out. It was all Jeongguk could do not to bite him right there.

But there was an art to making Yoongi’s wolf roll over for him; it required patience and years of practiced touches and clever plays. It meant gathering all of Yoongi’s fragile pieces into his palms to shape them just as cautiously. Yoongi needed to be handled with care, always. Jeongguk was tender more often than not, skimming his mouth across Yoongi’s marked up throat, catching on the point of his chin—tongue curling beneath his bottom lip before sucking on it gently.

They started melting into each other, losing themselves from one exhale to the next, Yoongi cradling Jeongguk’s waist between his legs, moving against him when the alpha started rocking into him with purpose, finding a rhythm. “Jeongguk,” Yoongi breathed shakily, sliding his hands from Jeongguk’s back to the sides of his face, holding him as they kissed slowly, intensely—drinking in each other’s sounds.

“Can I mark you, hyung?” Jeongguk opened his eyes and watched as Yoongi bloomed beneath him, tilting his head to further expose his neck. The bite was stark against Yoongi’s skin, shimmering prettily. He brushed his mouth against Yoongi’s bruised skin, speaking into him, “I wanna hear you say it.”

Yoongi was quick to indulge him, blissed and high from the pleasure coursing through his body, Jeongguk’s pelvic bone pressed to his ass, his cock buried as far as it could reach, adding pressure to where Yoongi needed it the most. “Make me yours forever, alpha. Bite me.

Jeongguk traced the original mark with his tongue. He swore he could feel it run through him each time he licked at the sensitive area. Their pleasure, the mark’s power, the way it fed off of every little emotion and sensation. He started pounding into Yoongi’s body, waiting for Yoongi to be on the brink—muscles pulsing around him tightly, before he sank his teeth in.

The sharp, stinging pain was enough to make Yoongi spiral over the edge with the alpha’s name on his lips. Jeongguk growled into the bite, reopening the wound, tasting Yoongi’s blood inside his mouth. He could feel his knot beginning to swell, Yoongi nearly impossible to breach after a couple thrusts, stretching the omega each time he came forward until he had no choice but to stay buried, spilling into Yoongi’s body.

Jeongguk’s orgasm was so powerful, he couldn’t keep from shaking. Each time he expelled more cum, it wracked chills throughout his body. It reminded him of the first time he ever knotted an omega—Yoongi, several years ago. Jeongguk lapped away at the blood, enough to seal the mark into a bruise. It would only be a day or two before it was healed completely.

He returned to Yoongi, fingers gently brushing damp strands of blond hair out of his face. The omega’s eyes were closed, his heartbeat thumping rapidly against his chest, fighting to become regulated. “Can’t believe we fucked in Tae’s new apartment,” Yoongi laughed, voice rough with exhaustion.

“I mean, I kinda do? It’s the same as Jin-hyung’s place and Jimin’s living room. Though, honestly, they should be thanking us for cleansing this room. No ghost would dare to come back.” Jeongguk pressed a kiss against the top of Yoongi’s nose, watching as the omega’s face scrunched up. “My portable-sized hyung is being really cute right now, oh, no.

“And we know how much you love to exploit that,” Yoongi said as he stared at the alpha, fixated on the small details. How blown Jeongguk’s eyes were, gorgeous and sparkling crimson. The sensuous curve of his lips; his deep cupid’s bow, how soft it was to kiss. He carded his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, tugging gently. “I’m sad that you cut your hair…”

Jeongguk grinned at that, endlessly amused. “But not that I pierced my eyebrow or got many, many tattoos?”

Yoongi was happy to have someone to banter with again. Someone who made sense. He tilted his head to kiss Jeongguk, breathing into him. “I was getting there.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, although it was predictable. Jeongguk’s smile grew even wider, positively lecherous. “Yes?” he answered, keeping his eyes trained on the omega beneath him, accepting Yoongi’s kisses as they came, soft and lingering.

“Since Taehyung’s trinkets have stopped falling off the shelves, I’m gonna assume you two are finished with shaking the entire apartment with your raucous love-making,” Seokjin said blandly. “And if that’s correct and you two have indeed worked everything out, then that’s just excellent. Really, great job.”

The older alpha’s slow, punctuated claps could be heard through the door. Jeongguk could tell that he was anything but pleased. Seokjin continued, “The party has mostly dispersed for the exception of myself, Jimin, and Hoseok because we’re not complete dicks, but the apartment still reeks. Do you think you could possibly fuck off for the night?”

Jeongguk cleared his throat, trying to sober up some. It shouldn’t be as funny as it was. “Yeah, hyung… we’ll be out soon.”

“Tell Taehyung that he’s gonna need a steam cleaner and a rake!” Yoongi called out and chuckled when he heard Taehyung groan a second later, bemoaning the thought of what must’ve been done to his guest room.

It took time, untangling from each other. They did it slowly, with touches and kisses in between, eyes roving over skin as though they hadn’t already been as close as humanly possible. After they were dressed, Yoongi folded down the sheets and stepped out with Jeongguk’s hand in his, tugging him down the hallway.

Taehyung held up a hand before Yoongi could speak. “I’m not angry.”

“You sound angry,” Yoongi noted, unconvinced.

Jeongguk added, “A little angry, at least.”

“Not at all,” Namjoon intervened, looking between Jeongguk and Yoongi. “We’re actually happy that our apartment gives off a nice, comfortable vibe. Comfortable enough to toss away all inhibitions and forgive each other, and fuck and… I don’t know, I feel like this place holds a special magic to it now.”

Jimin snorted from his seat on the couch. “Oh, yeah, it’s real special.”

“You’re in no position to be judging me. Any of you, actually,” Yoongi said, eyeing the entire room. Hoseok pointed to himself, mouthing a small, ‘me?’. “Yes, even you, Hoba. Don’t act like, after we leave, that the five of you aren’t going to flirt your way to the master bedroom.”

Jeongguk gasped, having been the only one left out and genuinely surprised, except now that he thought about it, perhaps it’d been obvious all along. “Oh,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

Jimin shrugged at the accusation. “At least we were invited to cum all over Taehyung’s sheets.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the alpha, deciding not to spoil tonight with an argument. They knew too well how to get under each other’s skin. “Anyways. I hope you all have a fun evening. Sorry for ruining your party, Taehyung.”

Taehyung was kind enough to walk them to the door. “You didn’t! Seriously, I’m just happy you and Jeongguk are okay again.”

“And this is why you’re hyung’s favorite,” Yoongi said, sending Taehyung a wink before they left. He had to deal with Jeongguk pouting and acting petulant the entire elevator ride down, as well as the short walk through the lobby. “I never elaborated, Gguk-ah. He could be my favorite pain in the ass or dongsang from Daegu. You’re being a huge brat right now.”

“That’s weird. Pretty sure you’re the brat in this relationship,” Jeongguk teased as they approached his motorcycle. Yoongi paused in his steps, watching as the alpha pulled out the extra helmet.

“I sorta brought my car,” Yoongi said, gesturing towards the opposite direction. “I missed it so much though, riding with you.”

“Well, I’m fucking starving and you’re usually one stomach gurgle away from gnawing my fingers off after sex, so.” He laughed when Yoongi attacked his chest, twisting at Jeongguk’s nipple. “Fuck! Ow…be careful, hyung. They’re sensitive.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, the summer breeze sweeping between them, ruffling their hair wildly, the hem of their shirts fluttering. “Go on.”

“How about we take the bike to go get some food and then I drop you off at your car, and afterwards, we can meet at home.” There was a hint of hopefulness in Jeongguk’s voice, his head tilted adoringly. It was difficult to deny him when he started with his antics, being cute for no reason at all, knowing full well that he was bound to get his way. 

Yoongi’s expression dropped into one of complete seriousness, feeling a tug on his chest, unable to shake it. “Yes, let’s do all of that, but first, before we do anything, I feel like you should know what happened to me.”

“I really wasn’t going to push you, but it’s stuck with me since you said it over the phone.” Jeongguk swallowed thickly, already feeling the tension between them. He knew whatever it was, that it was bad, and it had the potential of pissing him off, but he had to know. “The part about your father.”

“As you know, he passed away when I was young. Really young, I hardly remember it, but there’s a couple things that stick with me, that will always present themselves.” Yoongi felt the familiar chills of anxiety, this time more concerned over Jeongguk’s reaction than the recollection of events. He was always too ashamed to discuss it. Afraid to be looked at differently. “I didn’t tell you, but prior to his passing, he was an abusive asshole. To me, to my mother—especially to her.”

Jeongguk nodded, trying to remain calm to absorb the information. He couldn’t help the way his heart started to pound against his chest, knuckles turning white as he dug his nails into palms.

“She’d planned to leave him. I don’t know how he found out, but he did and I didn’t even really understand what was happening, but my father picked me up from school the day we were supposed to go and he drove us to one of the houses he was selling.” Yoongi could feel his hands beginning to shake, speaking overly fast, rambling on like he wasn’t seconds away from breaking. “There was this pool there and I was maybe, what? Five? And I didn’t know how to swim very well.”

Jeongguk’s eyes were welling up with tears; more than sadness, but rage had washed over him. “Yoongi…”

“He gave me an alpha command,” Yoongi said, staring at Jeongguk pointedly, as it pertained to what they were going through, all of his fear. “My own father. It was the first time I’d ever felt its pull on me, how powerful it was, the fact that I couldn’t control myself. He made me go… under… until she agreed that she’d stay with him, he made me… I couldn’t fight it.”

Yoongi was already being pulled into Jeongguk’s arms, all of the pieces finally coming together. The real reason why Yoongi didn’t want to be mated, the horrible truth.

“You were a child. It’d be impossible for you to stop what was happening,” Jeongguk murmured softly, holding Yoongi against his chest, giving him a place to hide. Jeongguk felt the ugly, bitter piece of himself crawl out, more wolf than human, possessive and furious. “The smartest thing your father ever did was crawl into an early grave, otherwise I’d fucking kill him.”

Yoongi tightened his grip on his alpha, digging his fingers into Jeongguk’s back, desperate almost. “I know you would.”

“I don’t think you do—”

Yoongi laughed, pulling back so he could wipe at his face. “I can feel it through the mark.”

Jeongguk was still trembling, he was so angry. Despite the sun, all Yoongi could smell was rain and lightning. Jeongguk held Yoongi within his gaze, searching him for traces of doubt. “It doesn’t frighten you?”

“Not anymore,” Yoongi said, unwavering. He hadn’t felt this good—never felt so sure of the mating mark, of being with an alpha, of not being afraid—in a long, long time. Not in his entire life, perhaps.

“My brave omega,” Jeongguk cooed, tears cascading in lines down his face as he stroked Yoongi’s cheek with his knuckles. “I’m so proud of you. Thank you for telling me.”

“I love you,” Yoongi murmured, leaning into Jeongguk’s touch.

“I love you, too.” Jeongguk placed the spare motorcycle helmet on top of Yoongi’s head, securing it closed, and adjusting the straps. He grabbed his own helmet and settled onto the seat of his bike. Yoongi was behind him, sliding his hands to the front of Jeongguk’s chest, making sure to hold on. “You ready?”

Yoongi sighed, releasing his breath like he was shedding broken shards of the past. They didn’t serve him anymore, there was no use in keeping them.