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Seokjin should have seen this coming, considering how they got together. Yoongi’s natural protectiveness over their team, but especially him, has always been one of his favorite things about him. But even Seokjin has limits.
“I can go to the bathroom by myself, Yoongi.”
Yoongi has the gall to look affronted, as if Seokjin is the one being unreasonable.
“I literally just have to pee; it’ll take two minutes.” He says and shuts the door in Yoongi’s pouting face.
“I’m timing you!” Yoongi calls from the other side.
///
YG: are you in the building
SJ: I’m recording backing vocals, why?
YG: come to my studio as soon as you’re done. Urgent.
SJ: do I need to leave now?
YG: not…technically
SJ: this is you being clingy again, isn’t it
YG: I can’t focus without you :(
SJ: you better be glad I’m almost done
YG: love you, hyung <3
“It’s me.” Seokjin calls softly, toeing off his shoes and stepping into the pale orange (peach, Yoongi would insist, peach like you) slippers Yoongi keeps specifically for Seokjin.
“Thank god, I can’t get this fucking bridge to work and it’s driving me insane.” Yoongi groans, spinning his chair around and holding out his arms.
Seokjin thinks he wants a kiss, but when he leans down, Yoongi pulls him onto his lap. Seokjin squawks, but Yoongi guides his legs and hips with such expert hands that he is seated comfortably before he can properly complain.
“Is this really not going to distract you more?” Seokjin asks, dubious. “And you know I won’t be able to help you, this seems like a Namjoon or Hoseok dilemma.”
Yoongi growls at the name of the pack beta and alpha, respectively, and Seokjin curses inwardly at himself as he slickens up.
“Worrying about where you are was distracting me way more than you being in my lap will be.” Yoongi’s smile grows cocky, squeezing Seokjin’s hips and drawling, “As long as you behave, that is.”
Seokjin scoffs. “I refuse to get fucked in a studio. We are better than Hoseok and Taehyung.”
///
Seokjin knows he shouldn’t intentionally rile up a Yoongi two days before his rut, but it’s so easy and goddamn if the dumb male posturing doesn’t make Seokjin just a little hot under the collar.
“He’s taken, so you can stop fucking him with your eyes, asshole.”
Seokjin smiles to himself and takes another sip of his cosmopolitan, pretending to ignore both the creepy alpha who had been eyeing him like a piece of meat and Yoongi, who has essentially draped himself over Seokjin’s back. He honestly doesn’t know why they still try.
It’s probably not super polite for everyone else at the club and it would be mortifying to admit to the rest of the pack, but it’s turned into a form of foreplay for the two of them. The more idiot alphas that hit on Seokjin the more Yoongi snarls and the more Seokjin leaks slick.
The sex right after had been what Jungkook declared to be ‘feral’, after taking one look at the red smudges littered all over Seokjin’s body the day after. Yoongi could not hide his self-satisfied smile if he tried, exasperating and delighting Seokjin in equal measure.
///
“Hyung, shouldn’t you go to the doctor? Looks like there’s a parasite attached to your back.”
“Hilarious.” Seokjin deadpans, shuffling him and Yoongi around to open the fridge door. He feels Yoongi growl and tighten his grip around Seokjin’s waist while Jimin snickers to himself, the bastard.
“You know when I pictured having an alpha as a mate, I had imagined them fighting to defend my honor or spoiling me with pretty things. Instead, he’s clinging to me like a koala on a tree.”
“I do those other things too.” Yoongi grumbles against his back.
“Yes, yes you are a man of many talents.” Seokjin reaches behind him to pat Yoongi’s hair. “One of which you could employ for me right now.”
“Hyung, Namjoon said not in common areas.” Yoongi whispers, sounding a second away from bending Seokjin over the kitchen counter.
“Not that! My god.” Seokjin grits his teeth, feeling himself slick up at the self-satisfied waves of scent emanating from Yoongi. “I meant that you need to put yourself to good use and cook for me.”
“Oh, of course, hyung.” Yoongi says, loosening his hold and getting to work at once.
Part of Seokjin regrets his words, the stupid omega part who loves having his alpha cling to him at all hours of the day, but any regret is swept away as he gets to witness the wonder that is Min Yoongi cooking. He finds himself focusing on Yoongi’s hands, unable to tear his eyes away from they way they move and shift as he chops onions and works the skillet. Seokjin hopes the smell of sizzling garlic will be enough to drown out his scent, but if by the way Yoongi’s shoulders tense is any indication, it’s a lost cause.
He doesn’t stop, however. If anything, he becomes even more focused, pouring something on the skillet to make it burst into flames. If Seokjin lets out a small shriek, that’s no one’s business but his own.
“I’m assuming you have the fire department on speed-dial, Gordon Ramsey?” He yelps.
He tries to convince himself that his heart is pounding because Yoongi’s being dangerous and stupid. But the smell of the food, the sheer amount made, and the nervous-but-hopeful smile Yoongi sends him as he sets the plates before him tell him it’s a lost cause.
“So? How is it, hyung?” Yoongi asks, eyes far too large and pleading to belong to an alphas. Seokjin can’t help the moan of pleasure as he takes his first bite, it’s embarrassingly loud, but the look of awe on Yoongi’s face makes it worth it. “Is it ‘Gordon Ramsey, eat your heart out’ good?”
More like ‘Min Yoongi eat my ass out’ good, Seokjin thinks stupidly. Yoongi’s eyes darken and he shifts closer, as if he’s about to climb over the island to get to him. Seokjin refuses to adjust himself even though by now he’s grown uncomfortably wet.
“There’s no way you can tell what I’m thinking.” Seokjin sputters, cheeks hot.
Yoongi grins at him, razor sharp and predatory. He cocks an eyebrow, a lock of hair falling down over his forehead. Seokjin’s breath stops. Devastating.
“Hmm I could take a guess.” Yoongi rumbles, voice like gravel. “You smell like dessert.”
Seokjin takes another bite, knowing he’d offer himself up on a platter for Yoongi to enjoy if he wasn’t careful. The food is so good, however, that he soon forgets about anything else.
He’s finished all of it in a disturbingly short amount of time, so full and sleepy that the thought of sex now made him a little nauseated. He hates to tell Yoongi this, especially so close to his rut, but forces himself to open his mouth, pausing when he catches sight of Yoongi’s expression.
His face has softened, his scent smelling like coffee and gentle smugness. In fact, he looks so proud one would think he’d painted the Mona Lisa himself.
Seokjin quirks an eyebrow. “I really hope you’re not thinking about fucking me now, because I’m afraid I’d throw up on you.”
Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi purr as he moves to take Seokjin’s empty plates, rinse them off, and place them in the dishrack. He’s still got that smug smile on his face when he comes over to where Seokjin is sitting, big hand wrapping around his wrist to pull him to his feet.
Seokjin doesn’t smell the usual swirl of hazelnut that would indicate Yoongi is particularly aroused, but the look on his face is eerily similar to when he’s fucking him, so Seokjin resists.
“Yoongichi I’m serious, I’m so full I don’t think I could move a muscle.”
And that. That makes Yoongi smile so brightly his baby pink gums peek out. Seokjin smiles back on instinct, dazed. He’s caught unawares then, when Yoongi tucks an arm under his legs and wraps one around his waist to lift him, bridal style, into his arms.
“You ate it all.” Yoongi murmurs into Seokjin’s ear.
“Of course I did.” Seokjin says breathlessly, hands coming up to cup Yoongi’s neck “It was delicious.”
Yoongi hums, Seokjin can feel the vibrations in his chest. He has an absurd urge to burrow himself so deeply into Yoongi so that his deep, pleased, rumbles are the only thing he can feel.
“Take me to bed, alpha.” Seokjin whispers. Yoongi very softly headbutts him before carrying him off down the hallway. Wanting to be completely sure they’re on the same page, Seokjin hurries to clarify, “Like, literally take me to bed. Hyung needs to sleep off all those carbs.”
“I stuffed you full of my food,” Yoongi says, cocky in an annoyingly sexy sort of way, “I can wait until later to stuff you with my knot.”
Experiencing about five different emotions at once, Seokjin settles on the path that requires the least energy, laying his head against the dip of Yoongi’s neck, yawning around his words. “Only if you ask nicely.”