Chapter Text
Jimin blinks at the clear sky. He squints at it, and thinks this moment might just last forever. Turning his head to the side—grass blades brushing against his cheek and eyes squinting some—he dares a glance at the young alpha laying by his side.
Taehyung’s eyes are closed, features lax and arms crossed behind his head. Jimin’s gaze traces his profile, the gentle slope of his nose and the curve of his cheekbones. The alpha is still young, yet he can see the man he will become and his heart takes a daring leap.
Taehyung’s gonna grow tall and broad, handsome like a dream. And he’s gonna be gentle. A sigh slips past his lips, a flush raising to his lips when the alpha blinks his eyes open and turns to meet his gaze. His lips break in a grin, lips stretching to show his white teeth. It’s fast, a blinding flash before he’s shifting on the grass.
Jimin’s heart takes another leap, running faster in his chest as his gaze can’t tear from the other. It follows—entranced—as Taehyung’s upper body lifts some, head tilting to rest on his closed fist. The grin on his lips has turned into something fainter, a smile that has his eyes creasing just some. Even so, it loses none of its light to Jimin, just as blinding in its gentle warmth.
“One coin for your thoughts.” Taehyung’s free hand reaches forward, index finger pushing at the wrinkle forming between Jimin’s brows. He rubs it away with slow and small circles, smoothening it away carelessly. The omega feels his cheeks burn with flushing embarrassment and something else.
It takes a moment too long for him to successfully flinch away, evade the touch and restore the frown on his features. “We don’t trade secrets,” he grumbles, shifting on the grass until he’s sitting, careful not to meet the alpha’s amused and teasing gaze. Jimin’s not sure he could survive that. There wouldn’t be enough blood in his body to rush up to his cheeks then. They’re already too red as it is, and it’s a blissful mercy that Taehyung hasn’t mentioned it.
“Don’t we?”
The tease is something Jimin is awfully familiar with, but—even so—his tongue ties up as he struggles to meet Taehyung's gaze still. “We don’t,” he manages to force out though, pushing those few words past his lips and finally daring to glance at Taehyung. The other’s wearing his wide grin again, and Jimin’s eyes fall to it before he can look away again.
“That’s too bad,” Taehyung all but whines, shifting on the grass with a gentle shuffling.
Jimin catches him sitting up, leaning closer until—when he looks up again—he finds the alpha’s face only inches from his own. His breath halts, eyes widening. He flinches back, just enough to breathe under that searching gaze.
“I’d trade all the gold of the world for your secrets.”
Jimin’s staring at him again—the boy so handsome and warm and bright—and he prays Taehyung will never have that much gold to waste on him. Because there’s secrets he could trade for free when it’s him, but there’s some others Jimin wouldn’t be able to utter into reality for nobody. It’s new secrets, ones that have been building in him as of late. Unprompted and unwanted, but warm and fluttery in his chest. Jimin looks at Taehyung, and prays he’ll get to keep those secrets for himself, if even just for a little while longer.
“There’s no way you can do that,” he counters with a defensive bite, a reassuring reminder to himself.
Taehyung snickers, eyes turning into crescents. He bends over and comes even closer to Jimin. “I guess I’ll have to find another way, then.”
Jimin’s lips curve upward, he lets himself fall back onto the grass with a relieved sigh. He blinks up at the clear sky, and wonders if he’ll ever tell Taehyung about the fluttery warm thing growing in his chest. Maybe some day, in the far future.
-
Jimin’s older now, and yet he finds himself still laying on the wet grass like he did as a child. He blinks up at the clear sky just the same, the body pressed to his own nothing but a heat line along his side. Taehyung’s grown just the way he predicted, tall and broad and handsome. Gentle and warm like no other alpha in Hayan. Jimin’s sure of it. He wonders if Taehyung beats even his brothers to that, if his bias and affection has grown to such a point. It is a weight pressing down his chest, something like guilt and yet not quite.
His head turns to the side, takes in Taehyung’s familiar profile, and he lets his mind wander and wander. It’s easy to get lost at moments like these, when everything is warm and quiet and there’s nothing to the world but the two of them. Jimin looks at Taehyung and wishes this could last forever. “Taehyung,” he hears himself calling, not sure why, not sure what he’s about to say. But when the alpha’s eyes blink open and they find his own, Jimin realizes he maybe doesn’t need to know. Or maybe he’s alway known. “If no one will come our way,” he starts, wetting his lips and turning to his side. They’re still young, and yet Jimin has the feeling no one will come to force them apart. It won’t be hard, they just have to stay like this forever. A concerned frown draws Taehyung’s brows closer to one another. He shifts to mirror Jimin, serious as he listens to him. The omega wets his lips, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth and yet. “If nothing will come between us,” he adds, taking time when his heart takes a fearful leap. “Let’s become mates,” he pushes out with a breath, fast and yet clear. Brave like he never is. It leaves Jimin breathless, heart frozen in his chest.
Taehyung’s features break open with surprise. His eyes widening and his lips parting with a stunned gasp. Something crosses his gaze, something Jimin can’t put a name on. It’s gone all too fast, like it was never there to begin with. And—just as fast—Taehyung clears his throat and his features soften some. His hand reaches out, ruffling Jimin’s hair as he lets go of a chuckle. It’s high pitched and a bit strained, but the omega’s too busy batting away the offending hand to notice. He scowls up at the alpha, but Taehyung’s shifting again, falling heavily on the ground again. The impact pushes the last bits of his chuckle out with a huff, eyes screwing shut and an arm coming up to cover his face. He hides it the crook of his elbows, only part of his lips showing when they move against his honeyed skin.
Jimin sits tensely, stares down at him as his heart rages in his ears and chest.
“Sure,” Taehyung agrees though, a puff of air as he still hides away. “If nothing comes in the way,” he retells, “Let’s be mates.”
The warm and fluttery thing in Jimin’s chest blooms as those words sink in him. He feels himself going lax, body like water as it falls back to the ground. The biggest smile stretches his lips until they ache, but he doesn’t care, a garden is blooming in his chest and yet he can’t feel the weight of it.
Jimin blinks up at the clear sky, and thinks they could stay just like this. The two of them and nothing else till the end of their days.
-
“Mom.”
Jimin comes awake with Kayo’s voice trilling in his ears. His eyes snap open and he sits up so fast it gives him whiplash. It’s with a moment of delay that he remembers to be naked under the sheets, hands grasping to fist into them and cover himself. A shiver runs down his spine as his eyes find Kayo standing just by the bed, blinking confusedly at him. His hands reach out, a silent request in his eyes that tugs at Jimin’s heart. So he reaches out on his own, taking a hold of Kayo’s body and bringing him up on the bed. He ignores the ache spreading through his sore body, fixates a smile on his lips when he feels Kayo shift some until he’s sliding under the sheets himself. With a sigh, Jimin does just the same. His body is lax as it sinks in the mattress, moves on its own as he holds Kayo close to himself.
His face buries in the pup’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent until his lungs are full and intoxicated by it. Yet it has something in Jimin settling, a restless ache he had no choice but to grow accustomed to. It’s a longing that’s been with him for years now, something that went missing a long time ago. With a sigh, long and drawn out, he tightens his hold around Kayo’s body, so close and yet it hardly feels like it’s enough.
“Mom,” he hears again, muffled and a bit breathless. Kayo’s hands are flush against Jimin’s chest, resting right over his heartbeat.
Jimin breathes in, he breathes out and then, “What is it?” he asks with the next exhale, pulling away some and loosening his hold. He blinks down at Kayo, finding hauntingly sharp eyes staring back at him already.
A smile breaks on the pup’s face, doe eyes turning into crescents as he all but grins at Jimin. “Seokjin’s coming,” he tells him, shifting some so he’s closer to the omega’s ears, voice just a whisper like it’s a secret.
Jimin pulls back, arches a brow at him. “And how do you know that?”
Kayo’s eyes go wide, lips parting as his breath catches soundly. It takes all of Jimin’s efforts not to break into a smile, to keep himself collected when he sees panic flashing in Kayo’s eyes.
The pup shifts on the bed, freeing himself of Jimin’s embrace as his eyes keep set on the sheet. “Don’t be mad,” he starts, teeth worrying his bottom lip.
Jimin hears himself sighing, he sits up again. His hand reaches out, thumb pulling Kayo’s bottom lip free as he scowls at the bad habit he’s built. “I promise,” he concedes low under his breath, tiredly.
Kayo dares a glance at him, fearful to meet his gaze. Still, Jimin tries his hardest to convey nothing but reassurance in the little, encouraging nod he gives. “I was on the high walls,” he blurts then, fast and low. Yet Jimin catches it all. His heart takes a leap, throat going tight.
His hand still hasn’t let go of Kayo’s chin, and he feels it twitching. Just at the same time, he sees tears starting to well in his son’s eyes. His hand drops, but it’s not long before he’s cupping the pup’s face and tilting it up. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sniffling. “I know you said I,” but he doesn’t continue, eyes casting low.
Jimin’s eyelids fall. He takes a deep breath and leans down until his forehead is touching Kayo’s. “Do you know why you’re not allowed there?” he asks, trying his hardest to sound calm and collected. He feels Kayo’s head nodding in his hands, and has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep in another sigh. “And you still went there?” He pulls away, just enough for their eyes to lock as he speaks.
But Kayo’s gaze is quick to drop, teeth sinking again in his bottom lip. “I’m sorry, mom,” he whines guiltily.
“Are you, though?” he ponders, head tilting to the side.
Kayo’s eyes snap up, wide and earnest as they lock with his own. “I am,” he stresses with so much emphasis, almost yelling it to Jimin’s face. And despite his concern, the omega has to force away an amused smile and the fierceness in his son’s eyes.
“Then,” he goes, thumbs brushing in his pup’s soft cheeks. He feels him lean some into the touch eyelids fluttering before his eyes blink wide open. “Promise me you won’t go alone again.”
Kayo’s teeth worry his bottom lip, and Jimin knows it’s a lost fight, but pulls it free yet again. “Kayo,” he presses. “Can’t you promise me?”
“But I was bored,” he cries with a pitiful whimper, and Jimin can’t hold back the tired sigh it tears from him. At the same time, it bears heavy notes of the guilt he can’t get rid of.
“I know, pup,” he tells him soothingly, leaning down until his nose is nudging at Kayo’s forehead. “But you can’t go to dangerous places alone, you understand that, right?”
Kayo nibbles on his bottom lip, but gives a weak nod. “Can we go together then?” he attempts, and Jimin wonders when his kid learned about negotiating.
He doesn’t even try to fight the tug at his lips, letting a smile weakly trace on his face. “Yes,” he concedes. “We can go together next time you want to”
Kayo all but yelps at his concession, shaking free from Jimin’s touch just to wind his arms around the omega’s neck. He buries his face in the crook of it, nuzzling into the skin and holding Jimin tight to himself. As tight as he can.
Jimin allows himself one moment before his arms wrap around Kayo’s small body, holding him just as tight. And then some.
That’s how Seokjin finds them. Jimin’s nose itches with pungent traces of alpha pheromones. Even when concealed, even when subdued, they burn through his nostrils and force his guts to churn with distaste.
Seokjin seems to notice it, pace faltering the moment he’s pushing the door open some more. Jimin lifts his head, but still holds Kayo close to himself. He frowns at the alpha, wondering when he became reckless enough to leave a door open like this. It was their luck it’s only Seokjin, but something uneasy and aching shifts in Jimin’s chest as he silently reprimands himself.
The alpha still stands at the door, the faintest lines of concern drawing at the corners of his mouth and on his forehead. His hand lifts, knocking pointlessly at the door frame. Once, twice, until Kayo is twisting and wriggling in Jimin’s embrace.
“May I?” the alpha asks hesitantly, watching the pup freeing himself from his mother’s embrace to jump off the bed.
Jimin’s lips curve in a tired smile, and it’s all the answer Seokjin needs. He crouches down just in time to catch a stumbling Kayo in his hands. The pup yelps and squirms as he’s lifted, but breaks into a silvery laugh as the alpha spins on himself. At last, Jimin watches him jostling Kayo’s weight in his arms effortlessly, a pang of bitter envy cutting through his chest. He’s been too tired to lift Kayo lately, even just to keep up with him.
“How have you been?” Seokjin asks, trading with long paces to the bed. He lets go of Kayo carefully, and the child quickly finds place by his mother. He presses close to Jimin, short arms wrapping around the omega’s thin waist and face burying in his side. Jimin hears him let go of contempt purrs, and his hand runs absent caresses through the unruly locks of his blond hair.
“Good,” he tells the alpha, the answer a habit ingrained in him rather than the truth. It slips from his lips before he can think much of it, and can only grimace when Seokjin’s lips twitch at the corner. So, with an apologetic smile, he tries again. “Tired,” he reveals, looking down at the crown of Kayo’s head while he untangles stubborn knots. “More than usual.”
Seokjin lets go of a light sigh, and he’s rubbing his chin pensively when Jimin looks up at him again. “It might be nothing worrisome,” he comments, voice a bit distant like he’s lost in his thoughts. “But you must be careful not to exert yourself.”
Jimin’s brow arches on its own, his fingers stop their absent carding through Kayo’s hair. The pup hardly nods, nuzzling some in the soft part of his side but saying nothing. “He’s five,” Jimin reminds Seokjin. “And he’s only got me.”
The alpha’s eyes fall to the pup as well, something sad and dull flashing over them. “I know.”
Jimin shifts some where he sits, the hand in Kayo’s hair moving away to wrap around the kid. Kayo moves along him, laying on his lap for the most part. His face keeps buried into Jimin’s soft belly, pushing against it like he could become one with his mother.
“Just,” Seokjin starts, a low and almost hesitant murmur. “Be careful.”
It draws a bitter curve on Jimin’s lips despite his best efforts. Seokjin knows like he does that that’s far beyond his control.
“I’ll try coming more often.” Jimin’s lips part, just about to counter the alpha’s words. But Seokjin lifts one hand, stopping him before he can get any sound out. “I’m doing it because I can and I want to,” he tells him. Jimin wonders if it’s just a lie said out of pity. Regardless of the real emotions behind them, the weight of Seokjin’s words have his head hanging low and shoulders sagging with a deep sigh.
“Alright,” he concedes, like he’s got any say with it to begin with. The alpha has long since taken the decision for the both of them, uncaring of Jimin’s shame and helplessness.
“I heard he’s gonna be back earlier this time.” Even when he didn’t mention who, the omega’s body still tense up. His chest feels tight, cold like the chill running down his spine.
“It’s gonna be any day now,” he trails. His free hand rubs at the back of his neck and—by accident—his fingers graze over that old scar. His tight chest goes even colder, and the iciness of it somehow reflects in his clear eyes. “I won’t be granted much rest then.” He says it with a chuckle, but it’s bitter and croaked, grating over their skin enough for Seokjin to grimace.
“Let’s make the most out of this time,” he offers with an apologetic smile, like any of it is his fault. “Maybe, by then, your body will adjust to the changes.”
“You know,” Jimin muses absently, hand still absently stroking Kayo's hair again. “I’d rather it never does.”
If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t understand. But, looking into Seokjin’s eyes, Jimin knows the alpha gets what he means. It’s an easy choice, really. Either your body being broken and useless, or having to bear the same torture over and over again. Jimin doubts it’s even a choice at all. It’s simply never been his choice to make. Having Kayo granted the omega a couple years and then some, but that’s as much as he got, his body eager to bear yet another child.
“Maybe I was wrong about it,” Seokjin attempts, but it’s weak. Both know that’s not the case, and it’s not because Jimin thinks him infallible.
“We know you’re not,” he tells him tiredly, shifting some on the bed so he’s leaning back onto the headrest. “My last few heats were far more regular than they’ve been in in years, and my body,” he trails. He wouldn’t be able to say it with words. It’s the kind of thing one knows without a reason. He just knows. With a sigh, careful not to jostle Kayo too much, he sinks further into the pillows of the bed. The nest is oddly neat, giving off distinctive notes that fill his sense and bring little comfort to him. “It’s okay,” he reassures, peeling one eyelid open to look at Seokjin. He didn’t even realize closing his eyes, and feels like he might just fall asleep if he doesn’t fight it. “There’s nothing you can do for it.”
The words should be reassuring, but Jimin realizes his mistake a moment too late. The helplessness in Seokjin’s eyes is so raw it pains him, and he has to look away again.
-
Jimin’s arms hug his bent legs close to his chest. His chest presses onto his knees, and it’s only slightly painful. It’s the kind of dull ache one can easily forget, the fair bargain for whatever distraction is taken in exchange. Tonight, it is sitting by the secluded shore and watching the moon mirroring herself on the placid sea’s surface. Her round and full visage is occasionally broken by lazy waves, dancing to a slow tune, a song that is just a whisper in the night.
Jimin has been sitting here for a long time now, since shortly after Kayo finally fell asleep. It’s been long enough for his body to feel sore now, for his mind to be a cluster of meaningless thoughts. Jimin’s too tired to follow after any, picking bits and ends before letting go. Sand sifting through his hands. None is worth the effort nor the concern, and surely not the fear and not the anxiety churning his guts.
All of this has happened so many times already, and it’s almost laughable how it didn’t change anything. Whenever the ships enter the port, everything feels just like it did the first time. Jimin’s body turns cold, and he’s shoved again in an even smaller cage than the one he’s lived in. Jeongguk’s presence is just like this, a leash around his neck, and countless wounds wherever eyes might fall. With a sigh, Jimin’s head buries in his knees and he hugs his head. There’s no escaping the inevitable, no running away.
He breathes in, slowly counts to five, and reluctantly lets go.
“One would expect to find their mate waiting after being away for so long.”
Jimin’s shoulders pinch up tensely. His forehead presses more into the bones of his knees. He lets go of a shaky breath, lifting his head when he hears steps approaching. He doesn’t turn yet to face him, but stares at the endless sea ahead. East looks so far away, Jimin can barely remember what it is like.
Jeongguk moves quietly over the candid sand, languid like the lazy waves licking the shore wet.
“One should have a mate for that to happen,” Jimin mutters spitefully, voice echoing over the alpha’s last steps to him.
The air behind Jimin moves, the chilly breeze forcing a shudder onto his body. A cold hand curls around the side of his neck, and Jimin’s body stiffens against his best effort not to. There’s no avail to keep any sort of pretense, trying to lie both at Jeongguk and himself.
“That’s a nice one,” the alpha whispers to his ear. Unlike the hand curling around Jimin’s neck, his breath is hot as it fans against the shell of his ear. It has goosebumps rising on his skin, a different kind of shiver running down his spine. “I must say,” Jeongguk muses, still just a whisper to his ear. His other hand slides around Jimin’s waist, spreading flush over his soft belly and pressing onto it. “I’ve quite missed this.”
Jimin bites on his tongue, teeth sinking until he feels the first hint of iron cloying his mouth. It hardly works to suppress the hiss crawling up his throat, and it’s all in vain when Jeongguk chuckles in his ear. It’s a hearty laugh, full bodied and deep. It has Jimin’s resolve and composure shattering, his body sneaking from the alpha’s hold swiftly.
He spins on himself before Jeongguk can take a hold of him again, kneeling on the sand. One hand sinks into it to support his upper body, head snapping up to meet the alpha’s sobering gaze. His face has lost every last trace of his impromptu laugh, features hardening and severe when he looks back at Jimin. One thick brow arches with a silent challenge, like asking the omega what he will do next. “C’mon,” he slurs, a lazy purr as he eggs Jimin on. “I’m in a good mood,” he informs, like that’s any good for Jimin. “I’ll allow you a few moves.” His tongue pushes at his cheek, a pensive quirk. Then his eyes gleam in the moonlight, something excited and wicked. “Let’s say three,” he settles for.
It takes Jimin’s brain one long moment to understand, something in him going highwire at the heavy mock in Jeongguk’s voice. He can barely hear what he’s saying past it, but the moment the alpha’s words do register, he’s lunging forward. Jimin’s not smart enough to think it through. And he has no idea of how, it all happens too fast, but his back hits the sand. The impact empties his lungs with a gush of air, and his eyes blinking up at Jeongguk in utter stunment. The alpha’s large hands are pinning his wrists down, his face only inches from Jimin’s. A wolfish smirk stretches over his lips, baring his teeth and creasing his eyes.
Jimin’s eyes are welling with salt. He blinks several times to force the wetness away, burning from within as humiliation creeps underneath his skin. When his sight clears, he’s helplessly staring into Jeongguk’s eyes. Above him, the alpha shifts with ease. A leg slots in between Jimin’s, body leaning down until it’s pressing onto the omega’s. His face moves lower as well, breath fanning over Jimin’s cheek. “Too bad,” he mocks. “I was expecting more of you.”
Jimin doesn’t try to suppress the hiss crawling up his throat this time around, disdainful as it can be. It’s hoarse and raw, almost a growl breaking through the tense air. “Like you would’ve let me,” he snarls through gritting teeth. Jeongguk chuckles, his leg pressing on Jimin’s crotch. It forces a subtle friction onto him, body stiffening and blood curdling with horror in his veins.
“That’s right,” Jeongguk muses, lips brushing against the sensitive shell of his ear.
Jimin’s jaw locks, his head turns away from the alpha’s. It grants him not to look at Jeongguk nor at the unforgiving sky above, but grants free access to the alpha. His lips close around Jimin’s lobe, hot and wet as his tongue touches to soft skin. All too easily and eagerly, Jimin’s body begins to melt under the alpha’s attention. It yearns for more against his own will, acknowledging Jeongguk as the one it belongs with.
His eyes screw shut, but there’s no use in fighting.
Jeongguk has already him pinned down, trapped and at his mercy. It doesn’t make Jimin any less resentful and reluctant to give in, humiliated and ashamed of his own helplessness. It’s what lights a fire in the pit of his stomach, feeding into the determination not to make it any easier for the alpha, not to be pliant under his touch. Like to fuel such a burning fire, memories of their last time surface to his mind. Jimin’s last heat had been stronger than many previous ones, leaving him aching and moody, needing the kind of comfort Jeongguk was unable and unwilling to give. It was advantageous enough for the alpha, allowing him to take Jimin as many times as he pleased, making use of his weakness for his own gain. And the omega—despite having spent years like this—still stubbornly refuses to be willful and accepting whenever Jeongguk touches him. Even now, when it’s been over a moon cycle already, he strongly resents the alpha. Jimin nurtures his resentment and anger toward the other, letting it become the marrow in his bones. Keeping him standing and strong even now when his own body longs for the alpha’s touch and attention.
That’s why, when Jeongguk bites on his lobe, Jimin turns to face him again. He glares at the alpha, finding hazel eyes waiting for him hungrily. They’re clouded over with wanton and lust, so intense it forces a shudder onto the omega’s body. Jimin can feel that lust and hunger pressing at his hips, hard and hot and imposing. “I wonder,” he spits viciously. His head pushes back into the sand, and he looks at Jeongguk through hooded lids. There’s no more fear and anxiety churning in his guts, gone the moment he was met with the alpha again. Once he was reminded of who the alpha is to him. “Which one of us is the bitch in heat.”
Jeongguk takes no offense in it. He grips Jimin’s wrist with one hand only, moving the other down until it’s gripping the underside of Jimin’s thigh and forcing him to spread his legs. He settles in between them, rutting onto the omega like to make a statement. “You tell me,” he purrs, head ducking and lips brushing at the line of his neck.
Jimin gulps past the dryness of his throat, feeling it bob against Jeongguk’s lips. His eyes close tight. He represses a disgusted shudder at the forceful reminder. Jimin knows well what the alpha’s veiled words mean, but strenuously refuses to admit it to himself. To consciously acknowledge it.
Despite his earlier words, Jeongguk doesn’t seem wanting him to confirm anything. The hand gripping Jimin’s thigh slides to the soft and sensitive flesh of the innermost side. He pinches it roughly, hard enough to tear a bristling hiss from Jimin. The omega’s body trembles under his careless touch, writhing against the unyielding hold pinning him down. With his vain efforts to get free, the sand scratches at his bare skin, rendering it raw and itchy, flaring red. Uncaring of the omega’s every hint at discomfort and pain, fueling his lust with it, Jeongguk touch doesn’t stop claiming. He kneads Jimin’s flesh, his fingers reaching closer to the omega’s most sensitive spot with growing impatience.
Jimin’s head pushes back into the sand, body curving and twisting to avoid such imposing touch. In his mind, a helpless but fervent prayer builts. Over and over, he chants it like anyone’s listening. For this moment to end soon, for Jeongguk to leave him before too long. For him to be satisfied without leaving shattered shards of Jimin’s body yet again. It’s a familiar sort of prayer, one he starts reciting when his body grows weak, and Jeongguk ignores his stubborn fight. It’s one he knows all too well.
Tonight—like he heard such a prayer, like he’s making his own purpose—Jeongguk whispers cruelly to Jimin, “You know,” he mouths on his skin, hot and wet against his neck. “I’m gonna take my time with you tonight.” The words are nothing short of a curse to Jimin, a death sentence and torture all at once. His prickles at the corners with welling salt. His hands ball up into fists, unable to find any purchase to brace himself. “I wanna taste every inch of you, make it so that it will linger on my tongue long after I’m done.”
With each few words he utters, his teeth graze over Jimin’s shivering skin. His hot mouth moves lower down his neck and chest, sucking on the fair skin and biting down sharply on the flesh. He leaves mark after mark, painful and lingering like his burning touch. Jeongguk’s hand hasn’t stopped its ministrations either, fingers gathering the little slick at Jimin’s hole and spreading it over the crease between his buttocks. He rubs at the tense ring of muscles, prods at it tauntingly. Jimin’s legs bend, heels pushing but only sinking into shifting sand. It offers little to no support, and he’s drowning under Jeongguk’s weight.
“Why,” he manages to utter, blinking his eyes open and lifting his head. He seeks to look at the alpha, needing to for some inexplicable reason. But all he sees is the pale blonde of his hair under the moonlight. Gritting his teeth, fighting harder against the hold around his wrists, Jimin frees one hand. He fists it in the alpha’s hair, taking advantage of his drifting focus. Jeongguk’s lips are wrapped around his swelling and aching nipple, sucking hard onto it until Jimin’s trembling. A sound that doesn’t quite belong to him builds in the omega’s throat. He angrily shoves it down and pulls at the alpha’s hair. The tug is sharp enough to lift Jeongguk’s head some, for their eyes to meet.
The alpha’s gaze is unfocused. He blinks blearily at him, lips and chin wet with his own spit. His tongue runs over them, savoring something Jimin couldn’t phantom to understand. “Why?” he parrots, a lazy slur. He hums pensively, seems to truly be thinking it over. “Because I can.”
All of Jimin’s words are stuck in his throat, all the fight stunned out of him. And he chokes on them all when two long and slender fingers brace past his tight hole. His lips part, searing pain shooting through his nerves. It forces his head to hit the sand again, the hand in Jeongguk’s hair tightening its grip even more. His eyes are open wined but unfocused, no sound leaving him as he feels the alpha’s fingers slide deeper in him. It burns and it hurts, but his hips lift on their own to desperately ease the way in. They seek to accommodate the intrusion, acknowledging what’s best for him despite Jimin’s stubborn denial.
“And because you’re made just for this,” Jeongguk breathes over his parted lips before taking them with his own. The kiss is wet and messy, one sided as Jimin is slowly losing himself into a confused fog. He can feel the alpha’s tongue pushing at his own, licking at his palate hotly. But it’s like this is not the body he belongs to, like it’s not quite him that’s feeling all of it. Still—regardless—hot tears well in his unblinking eyes as they stare at whatever glimpse of sky he can grasp.
When Jeongguk pulls back, his fingers do as well. Still, they thrust into him again a few more times before leaving his hole as a whole. “I’ve always been curious,” Jeongguk muses absently, sitting back on his hunches. He watches his slick fingers, entranced for some reason Jimin can’t begin to understand.
“If the scent is so addicting,” he goes, bringing those slick and glimmering fingers closer to his face. His nostrils flare, eyelids fluttering. Jimin looks at him like he’s looking at a madman, a large lump in his throat and breath frozen in his chest. “Just how sweet the taste ought to be?”
Jimin’s eyes widen with horror and sudden clarity. His hands are now free, allowing him to sit up some, holding his weight on his elbows. “Jeongguk,” he gasps breathless, but every other word is stuck in his throat.
Jeongguk’s eyes gleam that wicked and sick way, amused traces shining in them as he takes in the omega’s horror. He drinks it in hungrily, and Jimin’s sure he must’ve lost all reason.
Jeongguk’s lips wrap around his fingers, cheeks hollowing as he takes them into the last knuckles. Jimin gulps, mind going blank. Countless words form on the tip of his tongue, but none ever make it past his lips, frozen over them. All he can do—in his utter stunment—is watch Jeongguk sucking on his own fingers with lustful abandonment. His eyelids droop, and his chest vibrates with a pleased rumble. Only when he’s licked and sucked them thoroughly, he pulls his fingers away. An obscene squelch rings in Jimin’s ears, head turning away with shameful burning rising to his face. But Jeongguk’s eyes blink open, and he can feel the alpha’s glare even when he’s not looking. It digs, prods and searches, making him vulnerable as ever.
His hand shoots forward, cupping the back of Jimin’s head and pulling the omega onto himself. Jimin’s eyes snap open, a faint burn at his scalp where Jeongguk’s fisting his hair tightly. He tries to scream in the kiss, his hands struggling against the alpha’s imposition, but there’s not much fight for him to hold.
Jeongguk’s kiss is hungry like he’s been starving without it. It lacks finesse and much more resembles the gnawing of a beast. His tongue and lips do nothing but keep on ravishing the omega, like it’s his last meal, like he’s a tiger feeding on its first prey after the long winter. Like the sea swallowing a ship into its bottomless belly. And—as Jimin’s body loses against the alpha’s hunger—all he can think about is that he’s tasting himself through the ravishing kiss. It is unspeakably obscene and vulgar, and bile burns its way up to his throat, but the kiss is too imposing to leave him a way out. So imposing Jimin can’t breathe, so imposing that he chokes on his own bile and on the sob lodged somewhere in his throat. In the end, there’s no other way but to swallow it all down and let Jeongguk do as he pleases. It’s humiliating enough to burn underneath Jimin’s skin, to crush his soul again and again and make his pride into nothing. Dust being blown away by the wind until he can collect the remains and build it again. Now as ever as he’s ravaged, there’s nothing Jimin can do but submit to Jeongguk's perversion.
When the alpha does pulls away, his hand is still fisting Jimin’s hair tightly. He holds him up, close to his face as he licks his own lips clean. Wanton and lust still clouds his eyes, tongue running over the edge of his sharp teeth.
Jimin’s whole body trembles, but he’s staring back at those eyes heads on. There’s no hope in him it might mean anything, but—even so—Jimin’s glaring at Jeongguk as the alpha lets go of his hair. Both his hands move lower down the omega’s body, running a gelid caress that leaves shuddering skin behind. And Jimin’s glaring at him the whole while. His swollen and wet lips are pressed onto a thin line, tongue pushing against his palate as he feels Jeongguk’s hands stop at his thighs. He grabs them, finger digging into the soft and supple meat. He spreads Jimin’s legs without much effort, no pointless resistance coming from the omega.
Jeongguk’s eyes never leave his either, his hands moving on their own with rooted muscle memory. It’s all the same, all so familiar. And their bodies—they’ve grown much too accustomed to one another. Jimin used to restent himself for it, but there’s not much space for that after so many years. He can only ever put on a pitiful fight, one that’s bound to always end the same way.
And Jeongguk—he’s not a man of many words. He has never been. Jimin prays he will never be. So the alpha manhandles him to his liking, shifts some in between the omega’s legs. He undresses his lower part, lifts Jimin’s hips up and hooks his legs around his own waist. Like this, he forces Jimin’s upper body to lay onto the sand. Like this, he’s looking down on those clear and fierce eyes like a god would on a lowly devotee. But Jimin’s no devotee, and prayers have long since stopped dripping from his lips.
Jeongguk’s calloused hands slide up Jimin’s thigh, stopping at the curve of his waist. The loose hold turns into a tight grip. His fingertips dig into the flesh, grabbing him only inches above his wide and soft hips. Jeongguk’s cock is hard already, rubbing between their bodies. The alpha lets it slide between Jimin’s buttocks, moving the omega’s body like it’s the tool to his own pleasure. His head falls back, his hips rutting against Jimin’s and rolling onto them. His eyelids droop, the arch of his neck bare as he shifts the omega some, forcing him to spread his legs even wider and arch his back some more. He does it unbothered by the omega’s glare boring holes through his skin. It’s fierce and scalding, but Jeongguk’s skin is thick and it’s like obsidian. Molten and molded by those very same flames burning him. So when he looks down, it’s with that hungry lust clouding his sight, and all he sees is Jimin’s flushed skin under the moonlight. Blush has reached down his neck and to his bare chest, so strikingly obvious over his fair skin.
Reaching out, he watches as his fingers run over the shivering skin. His palm is large enough to cover all of Jimin’s peck, feeling it soft and warm under his touch. Giving it a thoughtless squeeze earns Jeongguk a hiss from the omega, just loud enough for him to grin back.
Leaning down, Jeongguk shifts both their bodies. Jimin’s legs slide down, bent at the knees and spread wide to accommodate him in between. Only one of the alpha’s hands rests low, gripping the underside of Jimin’s thigh to feel the supple meat fill his palm just perfectly. His other hand is riding up, curling around the omega’s neck and forcing his head to tilt back.
Jimin’s looking at him through hooded eyes, lips sealed into a thin and stubborn line even when Jeongguk’s thumb runs over their seam. “Open up,” he invites, gentler than he’s been the whole time. Under his touch, Jimin trembles but doesn’t comply. A dissatisfied rumble builds in Jeongguk’s chest, and he’s forcing the omega to do as he’s told. It’s after a pointless fight that Jeongguk’s thumb is sliding inside Jimin’s warm mouth, pressing down his tongue and forcing his jaw to go slack. Drool trickles down the corners of Jimin’s mouth, down Jeongguk’s thumb.
Feeling his hard cock twitching, the pits of his guts burning with wanton, Jeongguk mouths at the line of Jimin’s jaw. His teeth graze over the taut skin, tongue licking before he sucks marks the lower he moves down the curve of his neck. The hand on Jimin’s thigh shifts, ridding both of them of the last garments. His fingers curl around the thick and hot base of his cock, stroking up its pulsating length until his thumb is rubbing over the head. His teeth sink into the sensitive skin of Jimin’s neck, body quivering with unrestrained anticipation as he breathes in the mellow and familiar scent of his omega. Under him, Jimin’s body is soft and warm, still a bit tense but complying to what both know is unavoidable. No words are shared between them, not when Jeongguk’s tip pushes at Jimin’s hole and not when he starts thrusting in. Soon, all that can be heard over the crashing waves is the sound of muffled moans and cries, hoarse grunts and groans. And the clapping and squelching coming from where their bodies are joined.
There’s this one odd thing going on in Jimin’s brain whenever Jeongguk takes over him. His mind drifts away, leaving his body the moment he accepts defeat. Like leaves being carried by the wind, it floats away until he can no longer feel the searing pain and the humiliation of Jeongguk tearing through his body. Everything is numb, distant. And Jimin’s started to believe that’s just how things ought to be. He takes it, and drowns into this cold emptiness until everything is over. That’s how, when dawn starts to fall upon them, Jimin finds himself being carried by strong arms. He’s laid on the bed, familiar and gentle scents mixing with a more pungent note. His nose scrunches, but even so part of him seeks it longingly. So he shifts, moves closer to its source until he can feel the bed sinking and firm heat settling by his side. His body aches, sore from a night of being used and taken, and his heart is tired. So he reaches out to the heat, seeking some for himself when everything is gelid and shivers run down his spine. He curls into the heat, limbs heavy and mind drowsy. His nose pressed against hot skin, something spicy and pungent burning up his nostrils whenever he breaths in. Even so, Jimin doesn’t pull away. It’s intoxicating, soothes a restless little thing in his chest, lifts a longing weight off his shoulders.
The heat wraps around him, and Jimin’s falling deeper in his dreamless sleep. Finding some morbid sense of comfort in it, for once after too long.
-
Jimin’s heart only stops its mindless racing when he steps on the high walls. It stops abruptly enough for his chest to fill tight, for his lungs to constrict at the sudden change of pace. His heart has lodged right about the base of Jimin’s throat, a lump that makes each breath a challenge.
Even so, he takes a bracing breath before stepping onto the high walls himself. His eyes never leave the pair, something underneath his skin shaking and crawling with the urge to reach out and take Kayo away. But Kayo is sitting on the wide balustrade, his short legs kicking in the air as he points at something down below. He leans forward, only one hand clutching the stone for support.
Jimin’s heart leaps further up his throat, blood running cold. But Jeongguk’s hand shoots forward, steadying Kayo by his waist. He pulls the kid close to himself albeit subtly, his upper body no longer leaning over the balustrade but into the alpha’s broad chest. Kayo’s head throws back, eyes gleaming up at his father. His lips stretch into a smile that carves dimples into his cheeks.
Jimin’s standing frozen several paces away, neither has noticed him yet. And he’s allowed to watch, watch as Kayo says something and Jeongguk leans forward some. He glances down at the training field, brows drawing close before a sharp curve tugs at one corner of his mouth. The hand on Kayo’s waist moves away, bracing Jeongguk’s weight on the stone instead. Kayo’s looking down again, that same gleam still shining in his eyes even when Jimin can’t see it himself. He knows it’s there, he just knows.
Unconsciously, he moves a step to the pair and then another.
Jeongguk is the first to notice, head snapping in his direction. His features are sharp and tense, a muscle at the corner of his jaw twitching. Jimin doesn’t move closer yet, but sees the subtle step back that Jeongguk takes. It’s not much, it still keeps Kayo within his reach. But it’s there, and the omega couldn’t have missed it if he tried.
Neither speaks, neither move. Their gazes lock and neither is able to look away before long. Neither looks away until Kayo is seeking Jeongguk’s attention to himself again. His head throws back like it did before, but the alpha isn’t readily looking down at him any more. Kayo’s body twists around confusedly, and that’s when he sees Jimin too.
Whatever disappointment was dawning on his round and soft features, it’s all washed away the moment his eyes find Jimin. He squirms on the balustrade, ignoring Jeongguk's instinctive attempt to keep him still. He sneaks out the alpha’s reach and jumps off the balustrade before either can stop him. Jimin has barely the time to let concern melt away that he’s hit by a rushing body clashing with his own. Kayo calls out to him in a twittering of sounds, silvery like bells on a joyful day. His arms wind around Jimin’s waist and the omega finds himself embracing Kayo as well. His body moves with muscle memory in his frozen stupor, holding the pup close as his face nuzzles in Jimin’s soft belly. His head tilts back, doe eyes staring at the omega and silently calling for his attention.
Jimin’s still looking at Jeongguk though, and it takes him a moment too long to notice. It takes the stubborn tug of Kayo’s hands fisted in his clothes, the whine of his name calling for him. Swallowing past the dryness in his throat, Jimin breaks the lock of their gazes and looks down. He shapes a curve on his lips, something that becomes easier to hold up when Kayo’s eyes gleam happily in the morning sunlight.
“Mom,” he calls softly, squeezing him before letting go. He takes a step back, but doesn’t leave Jimin’s side. One of his hands is clutching the hem of Jimin’s clothes, like to make sure they won’t be parted. He’s looking at the alpha though, and then back at Jimin after a moment of hesitation. He tugs at him, head tilting to the place where Jeongguk’s standing. “Come,” he invites eagerly. “Come see.”
Jimin’s body moves on his own with the next eager tug. He barely takes notice of it, feels his legs moving but they hardly feel like his own. Rather, his eyes still don’t leave Jeongguk. He should look away, even more when there’s no words tethering on the tip of his tongue, no thought taking shape in his mind at all. He’s staring blankly at Jeongguk like he’s seeing him for the first time, like he’s a stranger and not the man who found him in the night only hours ago.
“He says I’ll be one of them soon,” Kayo chirps excitedly. They stop, and Jimin forces himself to look down at the pup. He finds those doe eyes ready to meet his own, a smile ever-present on his lips before he’s letting go of Jimin’s hand. He takes the few steps separating them to the balustrade, lifting himself up on his tiptoes to peek at the courtyard below.
Behind him, Jeongguk’s hands inch forward, stopping mid-hair when he senses Jimin staring at him again.
“Does he?” the omega muses absently, moving to Kayo’s side. It hardly leaves a step between the two adults, Jimin’s skin itching when he stills himself in place. Kayo doesn’t seem to have heard him, too busy in the attempt to climb again on the balustrade. It reaches up to his chest and his arms are far too weak to lift his weight on their own.
He jumps up, bare feet scraping on the stone before sliding down painfully.
Jimin’s eyes dart from him when he catches Jeongguk moving again. This time, the alpha ignores his glare. His hands move out to grab Kayo under his armpits. He lifts him effortlessly, earning himself a happy yelp from the pup while he seats and shifts on the large balustrade.
Jimin’s watches the whole thing without uttering a sound, something odd shifting and twisting in his chest. It feels a whole lot like uneasiness..
“Did you?” he presses the question to Jeongguk now, the faintest hint of accusation in his voice that he can’t help.
The alpha’s head snaps to him again, but his hands hover around Kayo even when they’re not holding him anymore. His features are hard, unyielding when he holds Jimin’s gaze. But not hostile. And Jimin struggles to see yesterday’s man in him. “All palace alphas undergo proper training.”
It’s a fight lost from the very beginning, one in which Jimin never had a real place or chance. It’s not even the first, if he were to be painfully honest with himself. It’s far from being the last. Even so—even when he knows this won’t change no matter what—uneasiness clutches his heart in a tight vise. His body moves closer to Kayo, like it could shield him from the horrors of growing up, of being Jeongguk’s son. His head turns to the field, where alphas hardly a few years older than Kayo spar under the morning light. They’re so far below it’s just moving shapes in the distance, barely as big as Jimin’s palm. They will one day become soldiers, warriors sent out to conquer and kill. Jimin’s throat tightens, like invisible hands are choking him.
“It’s for his own good.”
Jimin’s hands ball up in fists, but deep down he knows the alpha must be right. Noran is brutal, it has no place for those who aren’t strong enough to survive. But Kayo—both his parents know he doesn’t belong here. Jimin’s never made it a secret. Jeongguk has always sneered about it like it’s the worst insult. To him, Kayo’s gentle nature is the kind of undeniable truth used to hurt others, the tender spot where it’s the easiest to stab.
Biting on his bottom lip, Jimin reaches out to his son. He takes Jeongguk’s place behind him, arms winding around the pup and chin resting on the crown of his head. Ivory hair tickles the skin of his cheeks, his nose itching. Jimin doesn’t move away though, he holds a clueless Kayo close to himself and breathes in the gentle notes of his scent. With time, even this will be taken away from him, and there’s nothing Jimin can do. Since the very moment Kayo was born an alpha, one too many things had been set into stone. Like the few marks embedded on his skin already. Jimin was only able to postpone a small number of them, compromises Jeongguk was merciful enough to grant. But this—like many other things, this is different.
Pressing a kiss to the top of Kayo’s head, he looks again at the alpha. “When?”
Jeongguk hasn’t moved that far from them, standing close enough that Jimin can catch notes of his familiar musk. It burns through his nostrils like always, yet the urge to get away isn’t quite as strong. With a sigh, Jimin holds the alpha’s gaze. Waiting.
“Soon,” is all Jeongguk grants, turning his body fully to the balustrade. His hands rest over the stone, weight leaning on then as he looks down.
Jimin’s lips gape then close, arms tightening around Kayo unconsciously. He finds no words to say, despite the tightness in his chest and the anguish poisoning his heart.
“He’ll make it.” Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Jimin looks at Jeongguk’s profile and tries his hardest to believe him. “He’s your son, have faith in that.”
“What,” Jimin’s voice breaks, cracking on his words. Jeongguk is still not looking at him, and Jimin’s trying his hardest to understand what he meant. The words jumble around in his head, hitting the walls of his skull and echoing oddly in his mind.
Jeongguk pulls from the balustrade, one hand ruffling Kayo’s hair absently. He moves away without saying more. The pup looks at him confusedly and curiously, but is soon distracted again by the sight below. Jimin’s attention is not as easily averted, fixated on the alpha instead.
Jeongguk says nothing, eyes lingering on the pup some more. He walks past them with little hesitation, intending to leave them behind with long strides.
Jimin’s hand shoots out before he can think of it. He watches it happen like it’s not his own body, like he has no control over it. Their gazes meet, locking. He has no words to say, mouth dry and tongue heavy. But his hand is clutching Jeongguk’s arm, the hold stopping him on the spot even when too weak to truly hold the alpha back. Jeongguk has stopped of his own volition, holding Jimin’s gaze like prompting him to do more. Whatever that might be.
What did you mean, Jimin would ask if only he found his voice.
Jeongguk’s nostrils flare with the next breath he takes. There’s no hostility to it, but his features harden and something clouds over his eyes. “He’s my only son,” he tells Jimin, and it means more than what words could ever put out. “Trust that, at least.”
Jimin’s still holding Kayo with one hand, the other one falling to his side. His head lowers, hanging with a defeated sigh. He says nothing, lets those words sink, unable to fight their weight.
Jeongguk moves the few steps past him without a word, leaving them in utter silence like he was never there to begin with.
-
“Hello, mister.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps to the voice’s source, a deep-set frown on his face. The language spoken to him is one he hasn't heard in a while, not even from Jimin. Which, he struggles to admit, is quite pleasing.
Kayo is grinning up at him. A smile that’s too many teeth, crescent eyes and a scrunched up nose. He’s naive enough to roam around unaccompanied, to approach an alpha several times bigger utterly unguarded. Some things seem to never change.
Jeongguk blinks at him, quite puzzled.
Kayo is—for a lack of better words—an oddity.
“Where’s your mother, kiddo?”
The scrunch of Kayo’s nose becomes even more severe, the rougher tilt of Noran forcing him to stare confusedly at Jeongguk. Muttering a curse under his breath, the alpha thinks back to their previous interactions. He can’t recall ever talking in Hayan to his own son, but here he is, second-guessing it all and Kayo’s wit.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he crouches down to the kid’s level, still a few good inches taller than him. “Where’s Jimin?” he asks again, a bit roughly.
Kayo startles, he blinks and snaps his head around. This and that way, making sure Jimin’s nowhere in sight.
Jeongguk looks at him, tongue pushing at his cheek. He’s not sure what he expects from the kid, why’s he even entertaining him. But, Kayo is his only son. That has to account for something.
“He’s sleeping.” It’s a bit hesitant, like he’s telling a secret and can’t fully trust Jeongguk with that.
“And left you unguarded?”
The kid’s body goes visibly tense, the bark in Jeongguk’s tongue not so hidden. Kayo sucks in his bottom lips, nibbling on it. “The handmaid,” he trails, looking away. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, squirming.
Jeongguk’s eyes narrow. “You don’t like them?” He can consider changing the staff tending to Jimin's quarters, someone worth the value of their charge.
Kayo avoids looking at him, hands fidgeting while he mumbles low under his breath. It’s so low Jeongguk almost misses him. Low enough he's itching to bark for him to speak louder. Still, he hears it when Kayo says, “They’re mean to mom.”
Jeongguk's jaw works, clenching tight enough to ache at the joints. “And to you?”
Kayo shrugs, non-committal and yet. “They’re boring.”
Jeongguk’s head cocks to the side, one brow arching. “Boring?”
The pup is still not looking at him, but his head nods albeit quite hesitantly. Then, after a still pause, he glances up at Jeongguk to check on his reaction. His attention keeps locked on the alpha after that, waiting and expectant.
Jeongguk thinks about it, jaw jutting to the side. They’re standing in the cloister, right outside Jimin’s quarters, no one but them all around. A gentle breeze blows by, the high noon sun scorching despite it.
“Then, what wouldn’t be?” The words leave him before Jeongguk can second guess it.
Kayo’s eyes have grown wide, lips gaping before clamping shut. He frowns, a look far too thoughtful for his round and young face. Jeongguk snorts, catching himself far too entertained by the sight. Albeit a bit dull and rather weak, the pup acts completely unaware of it all.
Working his jaw, not sure himself as of why, Jeongguk stands and offers the pup a calloused hand to take.
Kayo blinks at it, hesitant to accept the offer. It takes him a moment—or maybe a few more, until Jeongguk’s straining patience is almost all run out—to finally set on what to do. He pursues his lips, and reaches out. His hand hangs mid-air, still so painfully hesitant to just take Jeongguk’s.
“C’mon,” he incites, wiggling his fingers in the air only inches from Kayo’s. “Let’s go somewhere more cool.” That seems enough to convince the pup, his eyes lighting up and hand falling into Jeongguk’s. It is small and soft, could break if only he were to squeeze a bit tighter. Gulping past the sudden dryness in his throat, Jeongguk loosens some his hold even if Kayo’s hand almost slips away. The pup struggles to keep up with his pace after only a few steps, stumbling over his feet with a loud yelp.
Jeongguk halts upon hearing that, an alarmed bell going off in his brain. It quite surprises him, but not as much as his body moving on its own right after. He turns, letting go of Kayo’s hand and bending down some. Jeongguk’s arms reach out, moving on their own faster than he can realize. Just as fast—and he tells himself it’s because it’s more convenient this way—Jeongguk’s hoisting up Kayo, albeit a bit clumsy and awkwardly. He tries to remember how Jimin does it, how he saw him doing this very same thing countless times before. Holding the pup close to his side, arm hooked under his bottom for support. Kayo squirms some against him, yelping in surprise. He adapts faster than Jeongguk though, faster than his blank mind and uncomfortable chest. His arms wind around the alpha’s neck, hands clasping for support and legs wrapping around one side of his waist.
He lets go of a soft gasp, warm air brushing against the side of Jeongguk’s face.
The alpha’s face snaps in his direction, and—for a startled and awkward moment—they both stare at each other. Absently, Jeongguk finds himself thankful there’s no one but them in the cloister. And the feeling only intensifies when Kayo’s head throws back with the burst of his giggle, his body squirming and wiggling in Jeongguk’s hold dangerously. Cursing, he fixes it, nearly dropping the kid in the meantime. His heart takes an odd leap, only slowing down in its sudden race when Kayo’s safely held one again, no more twisting and shaking against him. “For the love of the gods, kiddo,” he grumbles, glaring away from Kayo.
The pup tenses up against him, hands twitching. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, Hayan slipping smoothly off his tongue.
Jeongguk snorts, lips twisting. "Don’t you know Noran, kiddo?” He jostles him up some, walking to their destination without bothering to look at him.
Kayo shakes his head no, he awkwardly shrugs despite keeping his lock around Jeongguk’s neck still tight. “Mom doesn’t like it when I speak Noran.”
Jeongguk’s pace falters, he almost stops. His mind goes back to Jimin, to his spiteful defiance shown in whichever way he can. And—despite the annoyance burning in his bloodstream—a corner of Jeongguk’s lips tug up into a smirk. “That so?” he muses, scornful and yet not surprised at all.
Kayo hums, he shifts almost imperceptibly. “Are you angry at mom now, sir?”
Jeongguk—to his own quite perplexed surprise—isn’t very sure about it. “You’ll have to learn,” he says just. “You’re a Noran alpha.”
Kayo says nothing to that, keeping quiet and still for a long while. They’ve reached the coastside when that changes. He perks up against Jeongguk, shifting some and forcing the alpha to again fix his grip on him. An excited sort of sound slips past his lips, a thrilling chirp that pierces through Jeongguk’s eardrums. He grimaces, grumbles a curse under his breath but holds back from chastising the pup. Glancing at him, Jeongguk gets the feeling Kayo wouldn’t even notice if he were to.
The pup’s far too busy staring at the endless expanse of the sea below them, the waves crashing against rock climbing high from the seafloor. “Are we going down?” he asks, not bothering to conceal his eagerness. Jeongguk wonders if he even knows how to. Shaking his head, making a list in his mind of habits that have to be fixed, he hums. Kayo yelps, squirming and twisting around when they start to walk down the narrow path. “Keep still, kiddo,” he scolds, no real heat in his voice. Yet Kayo listens, holding tight onto Jeongguk and keeping quite. His eyes keep trained to the sea the entire time, so raptured Jeongguk finds himself glancing at it as well.
He sees nothing but the same blue expanse as ever, nothing but water and rocks as far as his eyes can reach. And yet he wonders if Kayo sees something else than him by the awe shining so clearly in his eyes. Jeongguk glances at them from time to time, so similar to his own and yet nothing like them. He sighs, shaking his head softly and climbing down the rest of the path.
When they reach the rocky and leveled shore, Kayo starts squirming and twisting again. Jeongguk bends down, letting his feet touch the ground and carefully watching as the pup scurries away.
Kayo nearly leaps on his feet, jumping and rushing on the wet and slippery rocks. Jeongguk finds himself following after him without realizing, body tensing up whenever Kayo stumbles or topples over. Even then, he doesn’t cry out, giggling and yelping instead.
Kayo only stops when his path is forcefully interrupted. He stands unmoving at the edge of the wide pool, staring down at the clear water that lazily moves under the soft breeze. Jeongguk reaches him far more warily, questioning every step he takes on the dark slippery rocks and why he’s pushing so far. “What’s so good about it?” he inquires though, only mildly curious while staring down at the water’s surface several feet below.
Kayo’s head tilts all the way back to look up at him. Big eyes gleaming when he blinks. “It’s pretty,” he says through a grin, looking back at it.
Jeongguk hums absently, looking at their surroundings. “I guess,” he muses, taking Kayo’s hand and pulling him a step back from the rocky edge. “Come, let’s go down.” The pup follows obediently, if only with an excited squeal. Jeongguk can’t say he shares the feeling, but feels quite proud of himself as he walks down the passage carved into the rock.
It leads both to the surface’s level, water lazily licking the steps carved into the rock. Kayo’s hand slips from Jeongguk’s, and he’s rushing away yet again, not stopping until his feet are deep into the cool water. It lazily touches up to his ankles, tickling and gentle, a playful thing that entices a heartful and silvery giggle from Kayo. It erupts from his lips like lava would from the mouth of a volcano, unstoppable and powerful. Under Jeongguk’s watchful eyes, Kayo takes several more steps into the water. It reaches his waist and then his chest, and the pup still doesn’t stop.
From afar, the alpha watches him, chest tightening some when Kayo’s head slips underneath the surface. He finds himself counting the seconds before he can stop, holding his breath until the surface is rippling in a spot further away from the shore. Kayo’s still giggling, a grin on his lips when he lifts a fist in the air. “Look,” he yells, shaking his small fist for Jeongguk to see. He dives again, surfacing seconds later and much closer than before. “Look what I found.”
His fist opens up, palm tilting to show something at the alpha. It’s nothing but a rock, round and smooth, almost entirely white if not for a black spot. “It’s so pretty,” Kayo praises, unaware of the doubtful look plastered all over Jeongguk’s face. The pup isn’t even really looking at him, walking back to the shore and setting the stone at Jeongguk’s feet. “Don’t lose it,” he warns, spinning on his heels and running back to the water.
Jeongguk arches a brow at him, but Kayo’s not paying him any attention. He’s diving again, disappearing for hellishly long seconds before surfacing again. Yet again, he’s holding a stone, a rock that looks just like countless others but that reflects like a wonder in his eyes. He brings it to Jeongguk, carefully laying it at the alpha’s feet with the same recommendation. It happens again and again and again.
At some point—when a small pile has formed at Jeongguk’s feet already—he sits down. One leg bends at the knee, elbow propping on it and cheek resting on his fist. His head is tilted some, tilting the whole world at a funny angle. Kayo doesn’t stop, he builds a growing stack of stones at Jeongguk’s feet. Sometimes, he stops and studies them, sorting the collection and removing one or two. He goes as far as arranging them in an organized circle around Jeongguk, giggling to himself before going back to the water.
The entire time, Jeongguk sits there. A few steps from the wet shore—within the safe enclosure made by Kayo for him—and observing the pup like he’s staring at a curious case of madness.
When the sky starts painting of orange and bright pink, Jeongguk rolls his shoulders and cracks his bones. He stands, waiting for Kayo to emerge again. When the water ripples, he’s still holding a stone. It’s larger than any other he’s picked so far, black like sharp obsidian, not a spot of other color tainting it and glinting some under the light. “C’mon, kiddo,” Jeongguk calls, chin tilting to the shore’s direction. “It’s time to head back.”
Kayo groans, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. “Okay,” he mutters, moving slower to the shore, dragging every second. Jeongguk looks at him and wonders whether it’s the rock or reluctance weighing him down. Whichever it is, he smirks at the pup when he sets foot on the rock for the last time. This once, though, Kayo doesn’t sit on the rock at Jeongguk’s feet. He doesn’t even bend down to collect his little hoard. Instead, his head tilts all the way back and he lifts the rock up. “For you,” he says, a shy smile on his lips.
Jeongguk’s brows draw closer, he stares at the rock doubtfully. Still, hesitantly, he takes the rock when Kayo’s arms start to shake under its weight. Kayo doesn’t stop staring at him even then, something expectant in the way he does it. “What?” Jeongguk inquires, weighing the stone in one hand.
“Thank you,” Kayo emphasizes, a tilt in his voice that’s quite self-explanatory. “Mom says you gotta say thank you when receiving a gift.”
Jeongguk’s eyes twitch to widen, but he’s fast to school his face into something sharper. “Does he?” he asks, one brow arching.
Kayo falters, he bites down on his bottom lip, but doesn’t take it back. Rather, new determination fills his doe eyes and he nods. “Yes,” he presses.
Jeongguk snorts, he gasps out a choked chuckle. His head shakes in disbelief, hand carding through the locks escaped from his braids. “Let’s go back, kiddo,” he says just, watching as Kayo struggles to pick his stack of stones with a rather petty satisfaction.
The kid doesn’t ask for his help and he gives none, watching until somehow he gathers all in his arms with the help of the excess fabric of his clothes. When he’s done, Jeongguk starts climbing the stone steps all the way back. He doesn’t take Kayo in his arms this time, and almost regrets it when the pup considerably slows him down. But—weighing it down—Jeongguk is content with seeing his struggle and with him unknowingly losing a stone or two on their way back. Sure, it doesn’t last much—to Jeongguk’s chagrin. Eventually, his patience runs too thin, and he’s hoisting Kayo up despite the inconvenience of his little hoard.
That’s how Jimin sees them from the side entrance to his quarters—the one leading to that rugged coastside bit he rarely approaches.
Jeongguk’s holding Kayo with both his arms, a frown on his face as he tells something to the pup. Kayo—on the other hand—is still holding most of his hoard, talking back to Jeongguk animatedly through a high pitch.
Jimin’s heart skips several beats, and he’s running to them before he knows. Jeongguk stops dead on his track when he sees him, the frown gone the moment their eyes meet.
Kayo notices the change instantly, twisting awkwardly in the alpha’s arms. “Mom,” he yells, still several paces away. “Look!” he tries to twist some more, squirming in Jeongguk’s hold. Jimin watches—holding his breath—as the alpha snaps at him, barking something at the kid.
Jimin’s blood boils, he’s taking another long stride to them when he’s forced to stop again. Kayo has gotten quiet and still in Jeongguk’s arms, but it’s only a moment until he’s grinning, telling something to the alpha that has his eyes roll in annoyance.
Jimin blinks blankly at them, staring at the man that feels much like a stranger. Jeongguk’s walking again, jostling Kayo’s weight when he starts squirming impatiently. “If you fall, your mom’s gonna yell the shit out of you, kiddo.” Again, Kayo stills, minus the tentative look he casts Jimin’s way. He sucks in his bottom lip, turning away soon after. “I’m sure mister will protect me,” he says, too naive to notice the puzzled look that flashes over Jeongguk’s features.
Jimin’s not though. He hears their exchange and sees them clearly. And feels like dying on the inside.
“Here,” Jeongguk grumbles when they’re finally only barely a feet away, handing Kayo over to him like he weighs nothing. Jimin stares at the several rocks Kayo is holding and at Jeongguk’s hands holding him up, he stares and blinks at the pair like he can’t believe they're real. And wonders when it’ll ever stop feeling so foreign, so surreal. Maybe, he concludes while taking Kayo for himself, it’ll never really stop.
Kayo greets him with a gleeful squeal and a wet and loud kiss to his cheek, pulling away to show Jimin his hoard. His eyes shine, and it’s only brighter when he starts telling Jimin about the place Jeongguk showed him.
The omega glances at the latter, eyes flicking to him fast enough for Kayo not to notice, still nodding at him. Jeongguk says nothing, he keeps quiet yet somehow walks alongside them to Jimin’s quarters. He answers with absent hums whenever Kayo calls for him, or asks for his confirmation on this or that thing he’s telling Jimin. His eyes are set miles away though, only sometimes flicking into focus to meet the omega’s profile hesitantly.
-
Somehow it happens again a few days later. Kayo sneaks from Jimin’s guard just long enough to find Jeongguk instead. By the time the omega finds them, or catches up with the pup, he’s too tired to start a fight. So, more than once in the days that follow, Jimin has found himself reluctantly watching the pair from afar. He never disturbs them, can’t bring himself to take Kayo away when he’s so content with Jeongguk’s company.
Like this, a new sort of routine starts for them.
Jeongguk attends the morning court meetings, and always seems to find his way back to Jimin’s quarters at some point after that. When Kayo’s awake, the pup begs for his attention, when he’s distracted with something, Jeongguk dedicates all of his time to Jimin.
The omega’s not sure what he expected his life to turn like, years back. Nothing like this, sure, but. His body has grown used to Jeongguk’s touch, the roughness of his hands and the sharpness of his tongue. But his heart—that's what Jimin was expecting the least. It softens whenever the alpha is with Kayo, nurturing a painful spark of hope for this to mean something.
In a few months, Jeongguk will have to leave again. It always happens, and Jimin finds himself wondering if it’ll feel different this time around. That, with the added burden of another life nurtured in his womb. He hasn’t told Jeongguk yet, out of spite at first, and now… Jimin’s not entirely sure what’s keeping him from telling the alpha. At night it keeps him awake, one hand pressing softly on his lower belly in the vain attempt to feel the change already. It’s only been a couple months though, the little thing in him is still something he can somehow ignore. It won’t be long, but it’s an illusion he cherishes for now. However long it will last.
Looking outside the window, Jimin’s eyes linger on the setting sun. It’s just about time for Jeongguk and Kayo to be back, and the book in his hands has long since stopped being enough to keep his mind away from them. Closing it with a sigh, Jimin shifts some on the wide armchair. It grants him little comfort, hardly settling the uneasiness squirming in his chest. So, instead, he gives up altogether and stands with another soft sigh. It tastes a lot like defeat, like reluctant acceptance.
-
“I swear on all gods, kiddo,” Jeongguk grumbles. It’s a suffocated growl, the sound harsh enough for Kayo to flinch. He stops, bottom lip quivering. He’s holding a bunch of flowers and weeds in his arms, cradling it close to his chest like it could shield him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jeongguk can’t remember what he meant to say anymore. He sighs, nostrils flaring. Without saying much more, he turns his back to Kayo and stalks away through the sparse trees.
It’s only moments later that he hears tentative steps following him, clumsy through the underwood and loud enough to scare all the game in a radius of miles. That’s the sole reason why, when Kayo stumbles and topples over, Jeongguk picks him up in his arms and stalks all the way out the sparse wood. Kayo says nothing, sniffling and latching around Jeongguk, only a small part of his flowers intact from his fall.
-
Jimin takes Kayo in his arms with a frown, eyes narrowing when they set on Jeongguk. “What happened?” His voice is sharp, but he’s cradling Kayo tenderly to his chest, standing up and jostling his weight carefully. His glare never leaves Jeongguk, not even when he’s pressing a kiss to the pup’s temple. Kayo is sniffling into the crook of Jimin’s neck, arms winded tightly around his neck. He doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t seem to expect one.
Jeongguk watches him turn around and stride all the way back to his quarters. He watches him go, too stunned to move a step forward, mind blank. And he’s still there when Jimin comes back time later.
Jeongguk’s sitting on the low wall in between the small columns, back resting against one of them and head thrown back, turned sideways. He’s looking up at the sky, even if just to keep himself busy. He should leave, maybe pay visit to one of the taverns down in the port. The prospect is hardly appealing, somehow. So he mulls it over for old’s time sake, but doesn’t move for a long while.
Jimin finds him there, sitting on the low stone wall, one leg bent at the knees and an arm resting on top of it. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps his way, but he says nothing nor moves any more. Jimin’s steps falter, he stands several paces from the alpha. His anger from before is gone, if not all at least in part.
“Do you know why he was so upset?” he asks, not sure Jeongguk cares but. He moves a few steps to the alpha, sitting down with a soft sigh. His hands clasp on his lap, he looks down at them intently before glancing at the other with an odd curve on his lips. His head tilts some to the side, eyes creasing as he thinks back to Kayo’s words. “He thinks he made you upset.”
Jeongguk’s brow furrow, the hand hanging limply in the air twitching. He snorts, looking back up at the sky. “He’s too soft.”
“He might be,” Jimin says, not quite agreeing. He bites down on his bottom lip, pulling at it until he feels the tang of blood on his tongue. “But that’s because he cares.” And that makes him strong. Jeongguk wouldn't understand.
The alpha snorts again to unconsciously prove that, glancing at Jimin. His jaw juts to the side, gaze getting lost somewhere miles away.
“Just,” Jimin tries, stopping a moment to gather the words scattered around in his head. “He tries so hard to make you like him,” he continues patiently. “Even when he doesn’t understand who you are to him yet.”
Jeongguk blinks, once and slowly. His gaze focuses on Jimin, intense enough to almost make him squirm. The hands on his lap shift and fidget, body tensing unconsciously.
“I’m his father.”
Jimin’s teeth sink down deeper in his bottom lip. He forces himself to breathe in, once and slowly. “That you are.” He breathes out until his lungs are empty and constricting. “You should make sure he won't resent you for that in the future, until you’re in time.”
Patting his hands down on his thighs, Jimin stands. There’s nothing left for him to tell Jeongguk. With time, Kayo will grow and see the world with his own eyes. Jimin can only hope he’ll be strong and kind enough to bear the weight of it all by then. That he won’t be alone. Unconsciously, he presses his hand down to his flat belly. It’s little comfort when facing the horrors all around, but at least Kayo won’t have to be alone.
“You should know who your son is before trying so hard to change him.” It’s the last thing he tells Jeongguk, walking away as the words still linger in the chill of the early night.
Behind him, Jeongguk’s eyes are fixated on his back, watching as the omega leaves. He walks with a confident pace, his head held high and shoulders pulled back. Jeongguk looks at him, and it feels like looking at a stranger. Jimin’s words weigh heavily down on him, confusing and nonsensical. They feel a whole lot like a threat, leaving a nasty taste on Jeongguk’s tongue.
Hitting his head to the column, he lets his eyes close. The chill breeze blowing all around.
Jeongguk stays there for a long time, enough for the sky to turn lighter shades. It’s only then that he stands and walks away. Jimin’s words still echo somewhere at the back of his mind, but he’s struggling to make sense of them.
-
Jimin’s angry, Jeongguk concludes.
Admittedly, it takes Kayo’s comment for the alpha to look and pick on telling signs, to put a name on what he sees, addressing it as a veiled upset. It’s something that burns ardently behind Jimin’s irises, shining fiercely whenever their gazes cross and meet. Jeongguk has never quite considered the thing before. The possibility itself that Jimin—an omega—might be truly upset. At an alpha, at that. For a seemingly everlasting frame of time. It turns his world around, flips it off, out of its axis. It leaves a bitter taste lingering at the back of Jeongguk’s mouth. That night—when the sharpness in Jimin’s voice strikingly takes on a whole new meaning, when he’s forced to address it—Jeongguk is spellbound into sleeplessness. He lays puzzled and stunned on his bed, staring at the ceiling unblinkingly. It offers no help nor answer to his wonderings whatsoever. Everything is useless and meaningless through the night, and his chest is heavy and hollow. At some point through it, an invisible hand wraps at the base of his throat. He rubs pensively at his chest, but there’s no remedy to the state of him.
For the days that follow that night, Jeongguk quietly observes Jimin from a distance whenever he gets the chance to. It mostly happens when the omega comes to gather Kayo in his arms. He takes him away wordlessly, a scowl permanently set on his sharp features. Like every line of his visage is carved on a statue of unforgiving marble. Jimin’s eyes are sharp and cold, cutting deep with every fleeting gaze he casts on Jeongguk. It leaves him gaping, puzzled and stunned. It’s never really gone away, a permanent weight pressing down on him no matter how stubbornly he rubs at his chest. Sometimes, Jeongguk frowns back out of petty and uncontrollable spite. Jimin never seems to take notice of it. The alpha’s facade is bound to crack open before he can, whenever his eyes catch Kayo eagerly bidding him farewell for the night.
Day after day, Jimin’s stoic and cold silence takes shape and demands to be acknowledged. The omega is angry at Jeongguk, his feelings rooted firmly in reasons the alpha can’t quite grasp. Point stands, regardless, and so does the uneasiness crawling underneath his skin whenever Jeongguk catches himself thinking about it. Jimin’s behavior doesn’t feel right. The sheer and meager notion of it fuels a flame of impotent anger in the pit of his stomach. Helpless as it is, it’s doomed to leave behind nothing but smoke. Jimin's stubborn avoidance of him seems to have no immediate fixing. It forces both into a cold stalling, a limbo of dense miasma. Moving through it feels like trading through molasses, frustrating and vain. A trap he somehow fell into.
Jeongguk has—of course—attempted to find a way out of it. He’s reached for Jimin more than one night, taking him again and again through the darkest hours before dawn. Yet—despite his efforts to reconcile, to extinguish the anger rooted deeply in Jimin—his attempts to appease the omega are all vain. And the bitter taste cloying his mouth gets heavier and thicker, more disgusting and unbearable by each sharp cold night he leaves Jimin’s room behind.
Jeongguk knows anger. He has carefully fed himself on it since he was a starving pup. Left to fend for himself with nothing but it to soothe and warm him at night. Far before his father found him, far before he could put a name to what stormed and harbored in his chest. And afterward, he nurtured it with intent care. After his father’s death and after the emperor took him as one of his own, anger was the marrow in his bones. Jeongguk has known anger his whole life, and he has known resentment just the same. It’s the root to his strength, the driving force that’s kept him alive through the hardest times, through every moment and up to the last breath he takes while walking the palace. Anger is an intimate friend of his. He has cherished it at night—deep in his chest—fed it his own flesh and blood so it could take strong roots in his core through the warring years of his adolescence. Anger is violent and raw, it’s vicious and it’s visceral. It belongs with the blood streaming over battlefields, with the war-tempered force of his kin. It has to take Jeongguk time to wrap his head around the thought of Jimin—fierce yet delicate Jimin—feeling anything of the sort. He’s too soft around the edges for it. Even when he tries to hide the seams of his soul, there’s no hiding from the inherent nature of his being. Jimin is naive and indulging. He’s an omega, afterall. Mellow and plump, soft and fragile under Jeongguk’s calloused palms. Someone like him cannot be to feel anger. It goes against all Jeongguk has ever known, all he has ever believed to be true about his people and gods. Omegas are to follow and obey, to subject themselves for an alpha’s pleasure. They’re bred and born to exist as an extension of their father or mate, to bring honor to their families through conceiving. They’re meant for it, and to never feel displeased about their duties. It’s what the gods entrusted them with.
Then again, Jimin has shown him to be unfit for an omega status since their first months together. His nature has never fitted with him, with the hatred he was able to project on Jeongguk since the very first moments. He used to wear it like an armor, a shield to the tenderness harbored in his chest. It’s been a long time since Jeongguk has last seen it. Since he last witnessed the intensity of such emotions painted over Jimin’s features. For how cold and sharp, they’re too hard to miss now. Impossible to ignore when it’s the mirror of something Jeongguk himself has known so intimately. For too long now Jimin has kept himself numb and dull in his eyes. Replacing that challenging and defying hatred with a meek and complacent facade. It’s a mask that has fit on his face perfectly for years now, long enough for Jeongguk to become unaccustomed with it. Maybe it never went away, always crawling underneath a thin sheen of glass. Jeongguk was maybe too eager to ignore it, growing complacent himself with the dull and quiet time they spent together through the years. A numb stability he never questioned. It was bound to crack and shatter, he reasons. Jimin has never posed himself like a proper omega, Jeongguk should’ve never assumed he would become one with time. So, as another sleepless night goes by, he snorts mockingly at himself. Of course Jimin’s anger and hatred would be as raw and unhinged as the one his keen harbors. Of course it would rival a vengeful spirit’s in the cold winter nights. There should be no surprise with the realization that someone like Jimin can defy his own nature, skillfully enough to master the most vicious results.
And yet Jimin stands in the courtyard and looks nothing like the picture of what an omega should be. Jeongguk watches him from a window, hiding behind tinted glass as his eyes never stray from him. He sits in the gentle shadow of a tree, a book in his lap as he leans back on a large column, legs bent at the knees and small feet perched on the edge of his marble seat. He looks delicate. It’s a cold sort of elegance that shrouds him, something sharp like the blade of a sword. Just like one, it shines beautifully, enrapturing every straying gaze.
Like he feels the lurking gaze on himself, Jimin’s head lifts. His eyes blink in the distance and set exactly to where Jeongguk is standing. His glare is just like a sword’s, sharp and ready to tear through skin and flesh. Seeking to draw blood. And he’s beautiful. Like the wind blowing through winter nights, like the blood spilling over candid snow. Jeongguk looks at him from a distance, and he finds meaning in poetry, in the words sages combine in verses. In those lines he has always thought to be vain and empty, meaningless entertainment for spineless weaklings. He looks at Jimin—fingers itching to touch, lips burning to kiss and savor—and believes there’s a meaning to all the poetry sung in honor of distant beauties and warm feelings.
Frowning at such thoughts, Jeongguk finds himself pitifully and helplessly wondering about it. About how it must feel, to read such verses and understand, relate so undeniably to their deepest meaning. Jeongguk won’t ever know for himself. This has to be the closest he can ever get. This much—a warrior like him—knows.
Jimin blinks—something on his features hardening—and he looks away.
Like his glare was keeping him hostage, like chains binding him, Jeongguk takes a step back only once their locked gazes break away through the stained glass. For how accidentally, it kept him stuck and stunned in place. The moon’s pull to the water’s tide. Yearning for it to never end, somehow.
Shaking his head at himself, snorting about what’s become of him, Jeongguk walks away and to places he’s heeded to be.
-
It’s days after that one time that Jeongguk finds himself crossing paths with Jimin. It happens coincidentally, but he can hardly lie to himself. Something in his chest flutters and takes flight. It feels lighter all of sudden, a voice at the back of his mind preening when the omega’s eyes cast on him and don’t avert.
“Jimin,” he greets, voice coming a hitch too close to hoarse.
Jimin doesn’t bother to hide the bothered look on his face, taking a step back to restore some distance. His chin tilts up, that defiant little quirk he’s never cared to fix. There is an odd comfort in the familiarity of it. Some things are meant to never change, to never fade from existence—like the mark on Jimin’s neck, like the chains he’s safely wrapped around the omega. It eases something in Jeongguk’s mind, to be so effortlessly reminded of it. For how useless and wrong in his core purpose Jimin might be, Jeongguk has never entertained the thought of letting him go. It’s not that he cannot, it’s that he doesn’t want to, yet.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin greets back with a beat of hesitation, voice flat and unflattering. For a moment, they stand unmoving. Each on the other’s way and too stubborn to move first. Too prideful to give in to this little small concession, to nick at their stance. Whatever it might be. Jeongguk has yet to understand what brought them here, to this precipice. It’s frustrating, makes him feel helpless in ways he’s never felt before. Jeongguk holds the world in the palm of his one hand. And yet a small and fragile omega sifts through his fingers like sand.
In the end, it’s Jimin who deflects first. He lets out a reluctant sigh and bows his head to the alpha. “If you will,” he says politely, voice as leveled and inexpressive as it was through his greeting. “I will take my leave.” He moves before Jeongguk can argue with it, before words to hold him back conjure on the alpha’s tongue. By the time they’re latching on his lips, Jimin’s already walked past him. Still, Jeongguk spins around his axis, nearly fast enough to give himself whiplash. Words spill from his lips, so fast he’s given no time to review or rethink. They’re out in the air, and Jimin’s stopping dead in his tracks.
“Meet me tonight,” he blurts out, and grimaces at himself. For a split second following his words, Jimin’s still giving him his back. It’s an excruciatingly long wait until he turns to look at Jeongguk. Long enough for him to school every telling hint of emotions from his face, rendering it inscrutable for the omega to look at. Jimin is frowning at him when they face, brows drawing close on his forehead to carve a deep wrinkle in between. His lips part, he wets them and sucks on the lowest. “I’m sorry,” he starts, a refusal painting clearly in his eyes before he can speak it in reality. “Meet me,” Jeongguk demands, before Jimin can utter another word. It’s much less of a plea, firm almost enough to sound like an order. If one were to tweak it the right way, it could almost sound like a threat. It’s a far cry from what he used to spit at the omega. He makes do, though, confident Jimin won’t notice. “In the courtyard, after sunset.”
Jeongguk is the first to turn his back, not staying long enough for Jimin to refuse him. Not even long enough to catch the omega’s stunned and confused expression shift into something he doesn’t want to see. Jeongguk forces a fast—but not too fast—pace on his steps. Long and somewhat confident strides taking him further away from the omega.
Jimin stands gaping and confused behind, gawking at the alpha.
He hates it. He hates how he wasn’t allowed to refuse, how Jeongguk still dictates everything in his life to date. The weight he holds on every decision, on every moment of Jimin’s life. Sometimes it’s a flickering thing, fading away in the back of his mind. Some other times, though, it is tangible as ever. And there’s no refusal, no denying nor fighting that will stand. Jeongguk admits nothing like that in a world of his shaping. He would never consider accepting such a thing, far less from an omega in his possession. He makes sure Jimin’s always reminded of that fundamental truth. Jimin’s words and wants hold—as a matter of fact—no weight to him.
A hand unconsciously presses to his belly. It’s flat and warm at the touch, skin against bare skin, soft and comforting. Jimin’s eyes close, his chest heaving out a sigh. His hand presses more into the skin. His fingertips dig into it almost painfully. He grazes an old scar, and his touch moves away swiftly like he’s been burned. Moving away before memories are allowed to the surface. Heaving out another sigh, a bracing one, he turns and heads back to his quarters. It’s time for supper, and Kayo must be waiting for him already. The pup’s endless appetite is something Jimin’s quite proud of, for some reason. These days, the healthy flush on Kayo’s cheeks and the light in his eyes is all that keeps him afloat, his feet grounded. The thought that maybe—despite everything—his pups might still grow up to enjoy life and know little pain is all that keeps Jimin going. He has no choice, someone must make sure of it. Jeongguk is—matter-of-factly—the last person he would entrust with the task.
A part of Jimin is naive enough to try to justify and excuse the alpha’s behavior, the rough carelessness that often has brought Kayo to tears. It’s in Jeongguk’s nature, afterall. Jimin understands, he does, but Kayo is his child. He takes priority over any other matter of reason. Nothing else matters, Kayo comes first. So, begrudgingly, Jimin has come to admit that he has been coldly avoiding Jeongguk. It’s been nearly a month. A month, and the alpha is dull enough not to mention it. More probably, Jimin reasons to himself, he doesn’t care enough to address the matter. Accepting it as an unshakable truth only enrages Jimin further, more and more each passing day. How arrogant, how infuriating. Jimin bristles and seethes as he stomps his way to his own quarters. Annoyance and anger feeding on each other until he’s on the verge of bursting with both.
His quarters welcome him with a comforting silence. They are a haven for him and Kayo, a safe space for the both of them. A place where Jeongguk only rarely ventures through. Despite Jimin’s best attempts to keep the alpha permanently outside these halls and rooms, Jeongguk still owns every square inch of it. He still walks into Jimin’s quarters when he pleases to. It used to be a rare occurrence, but has happened more times in the past month than it has in years. The breaching of his only safe space does nothing to aid the alpha’s case.
Jimin allows him in his bed on the times he comes. He lets Jeongguk sink his fangs in him and take. He allows him in without a fight, detaching himself from his own body, feeling numb to Jeongguk’s presence when there’s nothing left for him to hold onto. His anger doesn’t die, his hatred only grows deeper roots, but Jimin has found himself to be tired. Far too tired to fight this as well. It’s not worth it, it’s not the war he chooses to wage against Jeongguk. There’s priorities he keeps himself grounded to. His body is sliding lower and lower to the bottom of his list, for how short he keeps it. Jimin’s possibly just aiming too high, wanting to protect Kayo and this unborn pup is an ambition he can’t aim to unless he gives up on something. It’s only fair that he used to value that something just as much as he values his children now. With a sigh, he stops behind a closed door. His hand rubs a light caress over his flat abdomen. The slightest form of resentment swells in his chest, still big enough to choke him. It’s fine, Jimin reminds himself. He will survive this, somehow. He has to.
If he were to give up—to let himself die and leave his children behind—it would be the end of them. Jimin can’t afford it, he can’t bear to even think about it. This new child—as unwanted as Kayo used to be—will have him at the very least. Jimin is gonna love him the way he loves Kayo since the moment he was born. And things will turn out just fine.
His hand closes around the knob, pulling it down to reveal a cozy and familiar room. Kayo sits up on the bed, a happy and wide smile on his face as he struggles to get off the bed. He rushes to him with a yelp, arms wrapping tightly around Jimin’s middle and face burying in his soft belly. “Mom,” he greets, voice muffled. His head tilts back, doe eyes gazing up at him. “What took you so long?” he whines, no real heat in it. Jimin’s hand ruffles his hair, the other gently pulling him away. “Let’s go,” he says just, taking Kayo’s hand in his own. “Aren’t you hungry?”
On their way, Kayo tells him about his day, about details he forgot to share before. He’s excited and messy in his storytelling. Jimin drinks in every word.
-
Jeongguk is waiting for him in the cloister. The courtyard is empty but for him, his presence large enough to make it feel crowded. He’s all Jimin’s eyes see from the shadows where he stands. For a moment, he doesn’t leave them but just watches. Jeongguk’s pacing underneath the vaulted ceiling, within the gallery of thin columns and stone walls. He’s giving Jimin his back, bare and broad, drawn by the sharp moonlight. It casts a silver light all around them, just enough to draw out lines and shadows and paint the world anew.
Jimin doesn’t make himself noticed for a moment, standing there at the entrance as he watches and studies the man. He takes in the subtle tension in Jeongguk’s muscles, the subtle nervousness that brings his hands up to card through his hair. It’s odd, hardly looks like it fits the alpha. For long moments—stretching on and on—Jimin’s entranced by what he sees. When Jeongguk turns—movements sharp and fierce even when he has no one to show off for—his eyes set firmly where the omega is hiding. Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, lips parting before he’s sucking on the bottom. Hesitantly, head lowering imperceptibly, he moves a step forward and comes out from the shadows hiding him. Lifting his gaze, holding Jeongguk’s, he catches the way his features soften almost imperceptibly. The line of Jeongguk’s shoulders eases up bits of its tension, his chest pushing back as he heaves out breath. “You’re here,” he breathes, words slipping past his lips with a gush of air.
Jimin’s steps stop, his head lifts some more. He blinks at the alpha, stunned as the words ring in his ears. “I am,” he confirms as firmly as he can muster, hiding away the confusion he feels welling in his eyes. For a moment, it is like they’ve exchanged an entirely different set of words, like something else has been said and revealed in the cold night. It’s a moment, and Jimin tells himself he must be imagining it. He pushes his shoulders back, makes sure his chin is held up proudly to hold Jeongguk’s gaze. He’s firm, determined. The picture of all Jimin needs to be not to crumble under scrutinizing eyes nicking at his very soul. Whatever’s left of it, anyway.
Jeongguk’s gaze rakes over his form, lingering on the bare and exposed skin of his thighs before moving away. Slowly, it trails up to Jimin’s waist and his flat belly. The omega’s teeth sink in his bottom lip, hands itching to move, to cover and shield.
Jeongguk hums, his eyes locking again with Jimin’s. The sound is low, originating deep in his chest. It sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, a chill through his body until goosebumps are rising on his skin. The night air is cold, the breeze blowing past them an icy and cutting caress. Jimin looks away, he moves another step. “So?” he prompts impatiently, head tilting slightly to the side. “Why did you want us to meet?” Jimin forces himself to hide the anxiety swarming his veins and chest like a parasite, voice turning cold in exchange for his weaknesses to be concealed, sharp enough he almost regrets it.
Jeongguk’s brows draw close on his forehead, a flickering emotion showing on his features before he can school it away, replacing it with an unreadable mask instead. It’s a game they’re both playing, same rules and same stakes. Neither willing to yield first.
Jimin acts like he puts no mind to it. He stands unmoving and unwavering paces away from Jeongguk. He waits for the alpha to speak first, reveal whatever thought he’s hiding behind clouded eyes.
“Come,” Jeongguk says though. He offers no answer, no explanation. His hand stretches out, feet moving him a step closer. Jimin eyes the hand warily, bodily fighting the flinch that wants him to pull away. He has to force himself to accept it, to reach out and let his hand fall into Jeongguk’s. It’s cold and rough at the touch, and he’s shivering again. Long and calloused fingers curl around his palm, tugging lightly at him. Jimin’s gaze snaps up, words stuck somewhere in his throat. “Where to?” he manages to choke out though, tempted to fight the pull and plant his feet heavily to the ground. Jeongguk doesn’t tell him.
The hold around Jimin’s hand becomes firmer, the tug harder to fight. He moves after Jeongguk helplessly, stumbling a few steps before recovering his balance just to glare at the alpha’s back. “Jeongguk,” he grits out, almost a hiss if not for the way he manages to keep his voice low and even. The alpha doesn’t bother stopping or answering. If anything, his pace becomes faster. Jimin bites out something like a curse, the word rough and unfamiliar on his tongue. Frustration builds fast in his chest, but Jeongguk is dragging him out the courtyard and through several more corridors until they’re outside the thick palace walls.
Jimin has only recently become familiar with this part of the palace, and still warily eyes their surroundings despite the pressing pace of Jeongguk’s long strides.
A reprimand, a complaint, is itching on the tip of his tongue when the alpha stops. His long strides come to a halt abruptly, suddenly enough for the omega to almost crash against his back. He manages not to by little, frowning with resentment at the muscled back. He pulls his wrist free as Jeongguk turns to look at him, cradling his hand close to his chest even if the hold wasn’t tight enough to hurt.
Jeongguk looks at it, a deep furrow carving between his brows.
“What’s this?” Jimin asks, looking around but seeing nothing to take notice of. In the far, far distance he knows there must be the sea, somewhere in the west. He can hardly see it from where they stand, the horizon’s fine line fading in the night. The sky and sea become one in the darkness. It’s unsettling, off putting. Through the night’s silver dimness—a few steps from where they’ve stopped—Jimin’s eyes catch what looks like a cliff, and he scowls pensively at it. “Where are we?” he poses, taking a tentative step to the edge. Behind him, he hears Jeongguk following. “Is it here?” he inquires, stopping only when his feet are tethering at the precipice. A hand curls around his arm, pulling him back a staggering step. Jimin’s head angles up, meeting Jeongguk’s sharp eyes staring down at him. A deep frown is set firmly on his features, something oddly akin to concern shaping his features. Jimin blinks, and it’s gone. The hand holding him falling away. It leaves a cold and yearning spot behind, the touch strangely leaving him wanting for more. More of something innocent and feeling a lot like caring. “There’s a path,” Jeongguk says, voice strained as he nods down to a certain spot along the coast. “It leads down.”
Jimin hums, mulls the words over and moves tentatively to that direction. He doesn’t look back at Jeongguk until he’s stepping into that path, making sure the alpha’s right behind him without thinking. Jeongguk is there, just a step behind. Jimin doesn’t let himself think about how relief and unsettling comfort grow in him. Shaking his head, freeing him of straying thoughts, he carefully moves step after step down the tortuous path carved into the stone. Jeongguk’s hands snap out to steady him more than once, a bitten off curse hanging in the air whenever Jimin’s feet slip over the smooth path. On the other hand, the omega sheepishly smiles up at him. He fails to reassure the alpha with it. He’s not sure why that should concern him. Regardless and against any coherency to the feelings he’s been nurturing as of lately, it puts Jimin at ease whenever Jeongguk brushes away his obvious apprehension with a grunt or a grumble to be careful. Somehow—in this odd sort of fashion that strongly jars with the way they’ve acted around one another as of lately—they make it down the path without any major accident. In one piece and almost entirely unharmed, to Jimin’s gleefully and thrilled realization.
“Where are we?” Jimin asks, moving slightly away from the stone wall under Jeongguk’s piercing gaze. “Jeongguk?” he presses hesitantly when the alpha doesn’t answer. “Where are we?” he asks when the alpha only blinks back at him, away from the scratch on Jimin’s hand. He’s absent-mindedly rubbing at him to soothe away the pain, but stops when he notices Jeongguk staring. He presses for answers instead, hungry for them when he’s so unfamiliar with their surroundings. With most of the world outside the palace walls. There’s only so much Jimin dared to explore in his first years, and there’s much more he stopped caring about seeing. He looks around now though, no longer waiting for Jeongguk to speak. His eyes squint, even when the dim moonlight draws neat lines of their surroundings.
Hesitantly, almost unconsciously, he takes a step from the alpha. Ahead of him there’s nothing but an expanse of flat stone, dark like slate. In the distance, Jimin can hear the sea and its song. Waves rage and crash against the jagged coast, roaring and calling for him. His feet move on their own chasing after the call, conquering inch after inch of this unknown land. Standing behind, Jeongguk doesn’t try to stop him. His silence only spurs Jimin on, inviting him to take and take as much as he wills. Like a wild unbridled horse released to the prairies it belongs to. A thrill slowly starts to flood his veins, and he keeps going. As he moves step after long step, Jimin’s wondering why—at some point—he stopped trying to get outside the palace. It’s been so long since he felt this addicting flavor of freedom touching his skin. Deep down, Jimin knows well what made him stop, what made the thought alone so dreadful and harbinger of sleepless nights. Sickening to the point he would empty his stomach and shake through the night at the thought. Now, though, his jailor is the one who brought him here. Jeongguk doesn’t chase after him, he doesn’t stop him as Jimin moves closer and closer to the coast. He doesn’t snarl, yell or threaten. Jeongguk keeps behind, and watches. He just watches.
There might be countless cruel reasons behind this happening, but Jimin doesn’t let himself consider any. With every step he takes, he forgets about everything that isn't the rich scent of the sea and its song ringing in his ears. All-encompassing and enchanting. He moves toward it like a spell binds him, and he's a willing prisoner of its power. Jimin only stops when his feet are tethering on the edge of a sharp cliff yet again, nothing but the sea below him. The sound of steps slowly reaches him past the crashing waves, and he turns to look at Jeongguk.
“Is it this?” he inquires just like before, sounding breathless to his own ears. He blinks at Jeongguk, and looks at him the way he rarely lets himself do. With no raging hatred clouding his sight, nothing between them but clearing mist of an upset Jimin struggles to recall. He gazes at Jeongguk and sees nothing but relaxed features, sharp and strong lines painted with the moon’s silver glow. Jimin’s fingertips prickle with the itch to reach out, to touch and trace every line of Jeongguk’s face. He reprimands himself upon realizing, a flush rising to the apple of his cheeks when he forces himself to look away and back to the water below.
“Not quite,” Jeongguk reveals from where he stands. It’s only a few feet behind Jimin, close enough for his voice to reach him as a low and steady flow. A tune that melds just right with the roaring waves. Jimin glances at him again, head tilting imperceptibly. “There’s something,” Jeongguk trails, head turning in a certain direction. When he’s facing Jimin again, one hand is stretching for the omega to take again. This time, he doesn’t hesitate nearly as long to take it. Jimin expects himself to be dragged away as impetuously as before, but Jeongguk’s slower in his trading now. His strides are long, but match with Jimin’s as he leads him over the smooth and slick dark stone. Both are silent as Jeongguk makes way, and such silence is only broken by Jimin’s gasp when they stop again.
They’re standing at the edge of another precipice, of sorts. Jimin struggles to put a proper name to it. His mind goes blank, trying to take in the beauty of what his eyes grasp but struggling and failing. A hole in the smooth stone, larger than anything Jimin’s seen of the same kin. A circular pool stares back at him several feet below. The water is placid, the surface strangely flat. It’s a mirror to the sky, black and bottomless and yet holding countless stars for him to look at. Jimin needn’t ask to know, but still he trains his eyes away forcefully. He looks at Jeongguk, met with a waiting gaze. “Is this it?” he asks impatiently, breathless and yet trepidant. The alpha glances down, shoulders rising in a careless and dismissive shrug. It makes him look oddly young to Jimin’s eyes, and the impression grows stronger with the way Jeongguk doesn’t look back at him right away, a hand scratching at his nape before he can face the omega. “The kid seemed to like it,” he confesses, offering an odd sort of explanation. Jimin doesn’t prod, doesn’t let himself think about Kayo being here and the dangers of it. He doesn’t let himself be angry or scared, too tired of it being all he’s felt lately. He’s sick and tired of it. Tonight, Jimin doesn’t want to be angry or scared. Tonight, he wants to aim at the closest he can get to happiness, even the subtlest trace of content would do. Looking at Jeongguk’s eyes, Jimin wonders if he can lie to himself long enough to achieve it.
His hand reaches out before the thought even forms in his mind. He holds Jeongguk’s wrist, fingers not long enough to close around it in a full circle. “Show me,” he demands, firmly enough for it to be an undeniable request. “Show me what you showed him.”
Jeongguk’s eyes twitch wider, his lips parting. Surprise flashes across his face, his gaze snapping down to their hand for a fleeting second. He says nothing about it, but shifts the hold until their hands are properly clasped and he’s guiding Jimin. The path down isn’t nearly as steep as it was to climb down the high cliff. Jimin’s feet don’t stumble nearly as often, but Jeongguk’s hand around his own is tight and firm. It refuses to let go, holding him steady as they move down. The path carved into the stone subsides to large low steps leading into a roofless sort of gallery. Its walls are rough and old, the surface not nearly as smooth and defined as it might’ve been once. His free hand runs over the crumbling stone as they move past it, dust covering his fingertips. It must’ve been beautiful back in the day. Now, it’s only a pale harbinger of such beauty. “What’s this place?” he finds himself asking, not really thinking about it before the words are leaving him.
Jeongguk steps slow down, he turns to look at him. “The old palace used to be here,” he explains, head nodding back to where they’ve come from. “It was a long time ago.”
Jimin’s eyes turn back to the place they’ve left, seeing nothing but crooked steps carved in the stone and walls that support no ceiling. The sky above their heads is dark, full of countless dots. It’s a good replacement, he muses. Fitting enough for the ruins of an ancient time. “Come,” Jeongguk calls softly, tugging gently at his hands until Jimin’s following after him. “We’re almost there.” Truth to his words, it doesn’t take them long to leave the roofless corridor and those crooked steps behind. Before Jimin’s eyes a space opens. Yet again, it’s a crumpling ghost from a distant time and yet his gaze lingers enraptured by what he sees. His columns stand, still supporting no ceiling. Some are broken, fallen like defeated giants. There’s statues scattered around, with an order Jimin struggles to catch. They’re ruined beyond recognition, gods or rulers he has no recollection or knowledge of. Briefly, glancing at Jeongguk who stands next to him, he wonders if the alpha knows who they used to depict. He nibbles on his bottom lip, wondering and considering. Ultimately, Jimin keeps it to himself. His hand is still held in Jeongguk’s, but the hold is now much looser. If he liked, Jimin could slip free with no struggle at all. He doesn’t, and lets himself walk slowly with Jeongguk’s lead. The alpha takes him away from the befallen ruins and to the pool at the center of this space. Jimin’s entire attention is captured by it with ease.
The water surface is flat, placid and lazy. It only gently ripples with the soft breeze. Such a far cry from the raging waves he heard before. All he sees now is a mirror to the sky, holding just as many stars. It’s as they come closer to it that Jimin’s hand slips from Jeongguk’s. He takes faster steps to the edge, to the jagged shore. He only stops when his toes touch the cold water, hands itching to reach out and collect all the stars he sees. He’s sure that, if only he tries, he would be able to take them all. He could store them away, keep them close and to himself. Jeongguk is quiet when he reaches him, standing next to the omega but not emitting much of a noise. His presence is like the breeze blowing past them, caressing Jimin’s flushed cheeks. Silent and cold yet not unwanted. Welcome in a way that still surprise Jeongguk. Because the alpha is winter wind rather than summer breeze, he’s raging waves rather than timid rippling. Now though, as they stand side by side, Jimin can almost delude himself into such a lie.
His body moves on his own as his toe grows numb with the cold. He doesn’t run from it, doesn’t evade the sharp and biting touch. Jimin’s feet move forward with an hesitant step until the water is licking at his ankles. Behind him, Jeongguk takes in a sharp breath. Still, he doesn’t stop Jimin from moving forward. Soon, the gelid touch is up his calves and still it doesn’t stop riding up. Only once the water surface has reached his thighs does Jimin stop. His eyes gaze straight ahead, into the the silver dimness, at the wall ahead.
He turns around, searching for Jeongguk. The alpha is standing by the shore where he left him. His shoulders are broad, squared back and slightly tense in the line they draw. Jimin looks at him, head cocking to the side. Not much distance divides them, paces they could cross in few seconds. Yet the distance feels abysmal to him, somehow. His teeth sink down on his bottom lip, body moving to ease away the odd uneasiness crawling underneath his skin. He takes a step toward Jeongguk, crossing some of that distance before forcing himself to stop, think it over. It’s probably a wrong idea, it could lead to an endless array of consequences to reach out on his own. To be the one seeking the alpha. The thought and fear creeps in his brain, digging countless wormholes. Yet Jimin’s moving another step forward before any concrete fear can take form. His head shakes lightly, ridding of them. He decided tonight would be different. “Come,” he invites when much less divides him. The water lazily licks slightly above his ankles, his skin shivering and covered by goosebumps. The breeze feels much colder now, and a voice at the back of his mind wants for him to go back, submerge himself into the water to chase away the cold. His hand stretches out, feet firmly planted where they are. He stands firm, calling for Jeongguk to reach him. “Join me.”
The alpha’s eyes cast low to the outstretched hand, lingering. Jimin catches wariness flickering across them, brushed away fast but not fast enough. His lips tug upward at the corners, a thrill flooding his veins and coiling tightly in his lower belly. It shakes and buzzes underneath his skin, addicting.
“Won’t you?” he poses, head tilting to the side coily. He bites on his bottom lip, hiding away a sharper and pleased smile when Jeongguk’s eyes snap up to his face. “Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk moves the first step forward. His eyes never leave Jimin’s. He takes long strides forward, reaching him fast. Heat wafts off of him, like a fire is burning within him, underneath his skin. Jimin’s outstretched hand falls, but is caught before it can hang by his side. Jeongguk’s fingers curl around his palm, pulling him to his chest. Jimin’s body follows, falling into the alpha with an ease he should be ashamed of. But Jimin’s head is tilting back, chin lifting and neck angled almost uncomfortably. He’s looking straight into Jeongguk’s hazel eyes though, and his lips are parted with an elated gasp. Warmth shrouds him, flaring in the places where their bodies are touching. It seeps deep into Jimin’s skin, deep to his bones. For one, rare, time, he doesn’t feel repulsed by it. The proximity is a welcome one, the touch comforting like it rarely is. Deep down, Jimin knows this is a faulty perception. The child he harbors and the sheer, primal need to be close to someone influences his mind. It clouds his judgment, but feels too good. Now like never, Jimin can relish in this and not feel guilty, sick to the stomach for needing someone to lean on. For finding Jeongguk as the only one he can lean on, he can receive touch and warmth from. For once, Jimin can let himself have this, and not hate himself to the core for wanting it.
Jeongguk’s arm winds around his waist, hooking around his body and resting only inches above the swell of his ass. It pulls him closer, keeps their chests pressing to one another. With each breath Jimin takes, he feels Jeongguk’s heart beating a steady and proud rhythm against his own.
Jeongguk’s other hand is still holding Jimin’s. He brings it up, their eyes never breaking the link of their gazes. Jeongguk brings the omega’s hand up to his lips, shifting his hold until Jimin’s knuckles are brushing against the alpha’s mouth. The touch is feather-like, gentle in a way that has Jimin’s chest fluttering. He shivers, body quivering.
“Are you cold?” Jeongguk breathes over the back of Jimin’s hand, pulling it away slightly. His eyes move away, studying the omega for how much that’s possible. They’re standing too close, their bodies one solid and firm shape standing in the shallow water.
Jimin bodily suppresses another shiver, fails miserably to do so. He shudders, but his head is shaking no. Jeongguk’s jaw works, a worried frown casting on his features. He leans back some, his hands shifting at once to rake over Jimin’s body. They run hotly at the side of his body, then up to his shoulders and down along his arms. All it does is force more shivers down the omega’s spine. He’s staring at Jeongguk, and can’t entirely blame it on the cold anymore. The alpha’s face bears a focused and slightly concerned expression, features shaping in a way Jimin can’t remember ever seeing before. His hands don’t stop moving along his bare arms, rubbing over shivering skin in slow but steady caresses. It only stops when Jimin’s hand reach up, wrapping around Jeongguk’s arms to stop him. He moves a small step back, sucking on his bottom lip briefly. “I’m fine,” he reassures, not letting himself think too long about any of what’s happening between them.
Jeongguk frowns, but doesn’t argue with it.
“Come,” Jimin tells him, taking a step back and not letting go of the other. Reluctantly, Jeongguk follows Jimin where the water is deeper. Their eyes never avert from one another’s, locked until the water is reaching their waist. Even then, Jimin’s unwilling to break away. There’s something he’s unknowingly looking for, something in the depth of Jeongguk’s eyes he’s desperate to find. Specks of gold and brown and green, they stare back at him so clearly despite the darkness all around. For all he searches, Jimin can’t find it. He wets his lips, eventually averting his gaze. Jeongguk doesn’t though, and it burns through Jimin’s skin while the omega’s looking down at his hands, at his fingers pressing over Jeongguk’s skin and muscles. His hands are small—looking so painfully small as they wrap around the alpha’s arms—and yet they hold him so stubbornly. Like it doesn’t matter, nothing else really matters. Truth be told, Jimin wouldn’t be able to tell what—exactly—matters at this moment.
“Aren’t you cold?” Jeongguk’s own hands are still on him, loose and yet hot on his skin.
No, Jimin thinks. “I don’t mind,” he says though. His head fall back, eyes blinking up at the sky. “I like it here,” he reveals through an easy smile. So many stars reflecting in his clear eyes. Like the day sky is holding them. “Don’t you?” He dares a look at Jeongguk, but the alpha is frowning again. “What?” he asks without thinking, only regretting it once the words have left him.
“You aren’t upset anymore,” Jeongguk states. He doesn’t ask it, he doesn’t seem to need it. His is a constatation, matter-of-factly.
Jimin’s head shakes no softly.
“But you were,” Jeongguk continues, inquiring and determined.
Jimin’s shoulders rise in a dismissive shrug. “What of it?” he trails, hardly sounding like a question with the way it’s a feeble whisper. He’s looking down again, averting the searching and inquiring gaze waiting for him. And he wonders how can eyes say so much. More than Jeongguk’s lips ever muster.
The hold on his arms twitches, fingers digging into his skin. “Why?”
Jimin releases a sharp breath, as sharp as Jeongguk’s voice morphing around that word. He’s not sure the alpha means it, he’s not sure he really wants to know. Can’t trust Jeongguk to care.
“You’re right,” he says, glancing at the shore they’ve left behind. “I am starting to feel cold.” His hands leave Jeongguk. He takes a step back and walks past the alpha. He doesn’t check if he’s being followed, but can hear Jeongguk moving as well after a short moment. Both reach the shore, and Jimin sits there before the alpha has even come to him. His legs bent at the knees, close to his chest. He hugs them, chin resting on top of his knees. His chest heaves, shoulder rising and falling rhythmically. Jeongguk sits close to him in silence, and it’s like he’s still waiting for an answer.
Jimin considers it for a long moment, watching the water turning into a flat mirror once they’ve left and settled. “Kayo is all I have,” he says in a slow murmur. The words are familiar. He knows Jeongguk must’ve heard it countless times already from him. And can’t help but wonder if—just this once—the alpha is listening to him. “He’s not like you want him to be, he’s not like you.” It’s not a blame, it’s meant to be nothing but facts. A truth Jeongguk shouldn’t want to change. “And I know it’s of no importance to you,” he continues, heaving out a sigh before adding more. “But every time he cries because of your words, every time I see a scratch on his knees. Every time you yell at him, manhandle him a bit too roughly. It means everything to him. He will remember it. These moments, your words, they will become core memories to him.” By the time he’s done speaking, Jimin’s eyes are burning. He feels breathless. “I told you already.” His head turns, glancing at the alpha. Jeongguk’s not looking back at him, staring straight ahead instead. His jaw is set tightly, muscles so tense they twitch underneath his skin. “Do you even care about what he thinks of you?”
“He’s too weak,” Jeongguk says after a moment. His voice is firm, harsh.
It rings endlessly in Jimin’s ears.
He bites down on his tongue, struggling to fight a derisive snort. “To your standards,” he can’t help spitting out, scornful and vicious. It’s no secret their views are diametrically opposites, that their core beliefs are never meant to conciliate. That might as well be the reason behind all of this. Even so, Jimin's unwilling to bend and accommodate. To be complacent when it comes to his son. “If you wouldn’t be so blind,” he starts, trailing. There’s no point. Jeongguk won’t listen.
The alpha breathes out sharply at his broken words. Jimin’s still glaring at his profile. “It’s not my standards he has to meet,” Jeongguk counters, rough and heatedly. Finally, he turns to meet Jimin’s eyes fiercely. “It’s not my rules he has to abide by.” Jimin doesn’t realize, but he’s holding his breath. His lips part, his eyes unblinkingly staring at the other. Mind in a frenzy. “Why don’t you see?” The words hit him like a slap, and maybe it would’ve been far less painful if Jeongguk had hit him. “You shelter him like he’s your little princeling,” he spits, scornful and biting. “Do you think that will protect him?” His last words hang in the cold and tense air between them. Jimin’s lungs are burning and crying out, but he can’t seem to fill them enough.
Jeongguk is still looking at him, stunned. Flames burn behind his irises, chest heaving and falling with a quick rhythm of up and down. Then, sharply, his head turns away from Jimin, a hand carding through his hair with a jerkish movement. Jimin keeps on looking at him. For once, he looks through the brute that took him by force so many times. That tore him to shreds and yet forced him to stay whole. Somehow.
“Do you think I don’t know it?” Jeongguk presses after another moment of tense silence, his voice lower and less of a bite. “That he might grow up to hate me?” He sneers. “That he won’t see the disgust in your eyes and learn from it?” Jimin’s choking, countless thoughts crossing his mind but his tongue too heavy to curl around any word. And his chest, constricting and hollowed out, feels like it’s been ripped open by force. Emptied and left gaping. “Trust me, I know. I’m not that naive.”
“You want to protect him.”
Jeongguk snorts, head shaking. One of his legs is bent at the knee, arm resting on it limply. His other lifts, hand carding again through his hair. He pulls and undoes the thin braids, letting unruly pale locks fall to frame his hardened features. When he turns to meet Jimin’s waiting gaze—head cocked slightly to the side and eyes liquid—he looks young and vulnerable in ways he never should. He is the executioner of Jimin’s kin, the blade tearing through his skin and flesh day after day. He should have no right to look open and raw like a wound that just won’t heal. “He’s my son,” Jeongguk says just. And—for once—Jimin thinks there’s much more to those words than what he can understand. He’s heard Jeongguk utter this same justification over and over again, but has never been able to accept it as a valid explanation.
Jimin’s chin presses on top of his knees again, he stares at the placid water before them. “I’m carrying a child,” he confesses with a soft and feeble breath. Jimin didn’t mean to, he wanted to keep it for himself some more. He wanted to use it as leverage, as a petty revenge, a way to somehow hurt Jeongguk. But the words leave him and he doesn’t regret it.
Sitting next to him, Jeongguk has gone stone-still. Rigid like he’s made of marble, like he’s been carved out of it by renowned masters. “Did you hear me?” he inquires, cheek resting on his knees as he glances at Jeongguk’s profile. “I carry a child,” he repeats, just as softly. The words seem to register now, the alpha’s face snapping his way. His eyes—if ever possible—look darker. Intense in a way that steals Jimin’s breath and tightens his muscles around his bones tensely. “Are you sure,” he rasps out.
Jimin’s lips quirk into an awkward smile. His shoulders rise, a shrug that’s a bit uncomfortable to carry out.
Jeongguk’s eyes on him are unblinking and unfocused, seeing right through him. A moment stretches out, on and on until Jimin’s nervous and anxious, and itches to hide away. The alpha gives no time for those feelings to take root, for him to act on such urges. He moves, shifting swiftly enough to confound Jimin. The omega isn’t sure of how it happens, but Jeongguk is on him when his eyes blink again, and his back is laying on the cold stone. The touch has Jimin shivering, but Jeongguk is warm against him. The alpha’s legs are stradling Jimin’s sides. One of his hands is curled around the omega’s waist, the other cupping and pillowing his head.
Jimin blinks up at him, breathless. And he loses himself in whatever he sees in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Tell me again,” he is asked, a demand that’s too much like a plea. Jimin’s throat is dry, tight, but he swallows around the lump and, “I’m carrying your child,” he says, elated and still as breathless. Jeongguk’s hand around his waist twitches, bruising and yet grounding. Welcomed when Jimin feels his head getting airy, light and hazy the more he keeps on looking up at the other.
Jeongguk wets his lips, leaning down by a few inches. Their faces are only a hair breadth apart, chests almost touching with the next breath they take. “Again.”
“I’m with child,” Jimin reformulates, enthralled as he watches Jeongguk’s eyelids droop, his nostrils flaring. “Yours.”
Jeongguk’s eyes blink open, burning. Jimin’s breath catches soundly in his throat. His lips part, but what sound was about to leave him is swallowed by the alpha’s mouth. The kiss surprises him, and yet he doesn’t fight it. For once, Jimin welcomes and eagerly accepts all that Jeongguk has to give. It doesn’t matter how bruisingly tight he’s being held, how there’s countless old scars being prodded at and wounds being left to bleed. It doesn’t matter who Jeongguk is to him. Jimin welcomes him tonight. He welcomes the vulnerable and raw young man he caught a glimpse of, and no one else.
Jeongguk’s hand slides down to curl around his neck, tongue prying Jimin’s lips open. The omega lets himself be guided through their kiss, mellow and meek and shivering under Jeongguk’s touch. The alpha pulls him closer, head tilting to the side for their lips to slot in place and the kiss to deepen. His tongue licks at the seam of Jimin’s teeth, prodding until the omega’s jaw goes slack, lowering to welcome him with a feeble moan. The sound never quite makes it in the chill air around them, swallowed by Jeongguk. He licks in Jimin’s mouth, sucks on his lips and presses himself closer, deeper.
Jimin lets him, back arching off the cold stone when Jeongguk’s touch travels down to part his legs. He fits himself between them, fingers digging into the supple flesh of Jimin’s thigh, spreading them wide. Breathy sounds leave him, echoing in the omega’s ears long after they’ve been released in the air. Jeongguk’s mouth against his is insatiable, eager and hungry and yet never the forceful thing Jimin’s known so long. It slides wetly against his own lips, moving to press at the corner whenever they part to catch a breath. Jimin’s chest heaves and presses up against Jeongguk’s with every gulp of air he swallows, swollen and wet lips gaping and eyes liquid as they chase after the alpha’s gaze. Jeongguk’s own eyes are unfocused, clouded over. He has to blink more than once to focus back on the man lying pliantly under him, on Jimin’s soft features and flushed cheeks.
The hand on Jimin’s thigh rides up, a calloused touch that leaves a heated trail behind. It doesn’t stop until it’s moved all the way to Jimin’s slim waist, thumb rubbing arches over his ribs through shivering skin. Jimin shudders, releasing a shaky and stuttering breath. Jeongguk’s body shifts, fitting better between his legs bent at the knees. He moves so that their pelvises are touching, his growing hardness prodding at Jimin. Feeling it has his breath catching, eyes twitching wide. Jeongguk doesn’t miss it, nor the subtle way his body tenses up. His hand stops its absent caress, head leaning down. His lips brush at Jimin’s cheek, hips pulling away in the most subtle way. “It’s okay,” he breathes against his skin, words fanning hotly against the shell of his ear. “I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
Jimin’s throat is tight, he doesn’t let himself believe in such a promise. His body remembers too much and too vividly. Still, his arms move from where they’ve been resting at his side, wrapping over Jeongguk’s shoulders. The alpha tries to pull away, propping most of his weight on his elbows caging Jimin’s head. The omega doesn’t let him, bringing him down on himself forcefully. Their faces are only a hair breadth apart, puffs of cold air turning white between them with each exhale. “Promise me,” he demands, making sure their gazes are locked, that Jeongguk’s seeing him.
For a moment, he feels the alpha going tense against him, the muscles of his shoulders drawing tight. “Promise me, Jeongguk.”
The alpha’s lips part, one arm shifting again to cup the side of Jimin’s face. His thumb rubs feather-light over Jimin’s bottom lip, eyes darkening as the cast low to it. The omega holds his breath, waiting and expecting anything and everything from the other. “No harm,” Jeongguk concedes in a whisper, feeble and fragile promise between them. Jimin swallows through the tightness of his throat, forcing his lungs to fill with as much oxygen as they will. Jeongguk’s still above him, still staring down at his lips intently, entranced. Jimin’s tongue runs over them, coating them with a sheen of saliva, tasting the alpha. His eyelids flutter close but he forces them open as his head lifts off the stone. He initiates their next kiss abruptly, not allowing himself to think when their lips touch and slot against one another. Jeongguk grunts into his mouth, a sound originating deep in his throat and reverberating all the way through Jimin’s chest. He devours it, eyes screwing shut and arms locking tightly around the man’s neck. His own body shifts, accommodating the other’s larger frame. He presses them both together, yet Jeongguk seems hesitant about it now. Despite Jimin’s attempts and the promise they’ve just made to one another, he keeps his body from the omega’s just enough. One arm roams down Jimin’s throat and chest, stopping there to tease at the sensible and hardened buds of his nipples. The touch—for how careful and light—still tears a gasp from the omega. Sheer surprise rather than pain. He’s sensitive, an exposed bundle of nerves. But Jeongguk’s oh so gentle with him, careful in a way you would be with glass. Afraid Jimin might break under his touch. It never lingers too long, never presses too hard.
Yet, all it does is build a tense trepidation in the omega, increasing his need and want for more. It brings him to an edge, but only ever allows him to tether at it. And it’s maddening. Jeongguk’s fingers only graze over his nipples before moving away. Jimin shudders, takes in a shaky breath. His eyes close shut, teeth sinking down on his bottom lip to hold back the whimper climbing up his throat. Jeongguk doesn’t notice, pulling away and gazing down at the slow movement of his roaming hand. He kneels between Jimin’s legs, leaving the omega cold and shivering and missing his proximity. A complaining whine edges on his tongue, but even that is swallowed down. Somehow, Jimin’s still clutching to whatever pride is left in him, refusing to ask for more from the alpha even when his body is so loudly crying out for it.
Jeongguk’s hands both hold his waist, big enough to wrap around it and make Jimin look so much smaller and fragile. His thumbs rub arches into the skin, tracing over the prodding bones and thin skin.
“Jeongguk?” Jimin hears himself calling out, one arm stretching out to him. “What are you?” he trails, voice dying in his throat when the alpha blinks up at him. His eyes zero in on Jimin’s face, dart to his swollen lips and then up to his wet eyes. He exhales a sharp breath, and lunges forward to take Jimin’s mouth in a much more passionate kiss. It’s wet and almost clumsy, devouring and sloppy like he can’t get enough, like he can’t fit enough of Jimin in himself and claim just enough to satiate him.
Jimin’s eyes are wide for a moment, but close the deeper their kiss turns, arms wrapping again around Jeongguk’s broad shoulders and firmly keeping him close. When the kiss breaks, their foreheads touching and breaths mixing, Jeongguk’s chest is heaving against Jimin’s. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” he murmurs, like a reminder for the both of them. One hand has reached up to the omega’s hair, curling around pale locks. His other hand is still holding Jimin’s waist, sliding down slightly to his plumping hips. He lifts them with a nudging pull, and the omega follows the lead all too easily. His legs wrap around Jeongguk’s body, heels digging in his back. For the most part, the alpha is still sitting back on his hunches, body curving and hovering over Jimin’s. Like this, as tightly as they’re holding on one another, the omega’s own body is lifting off the stone, coming up with Jeongguk’s slightest shifting. “And I don’t want to,” he continues. It takes Jimin an embarrassing moment to understand what he means, blinking blearily at the other. His arms unlock from around Jeongguk’s neck reluctantly, one hand cupping the alpha’s face. “Then don’t,” he tells him, watching the alpha lean into the touch. Jeongguk’s eyelids flutter close, a low rumble spreading from his chest. It takes Jimin’s mind a moment to register it as a purr, a content vibrating that coils in the depths of his own chest and low in his belly. “Don’t hurt me,” he breathes. “Not tonight.”
He doesn’t delude himself. Jimin knows Jeongguk will hurt him again. And again and again. He’s no fool. Just… not tonight. Not when he’s trusting the alpha to hold him so gently, trusting him with all of himself and then some.
Jeongguk nods in his palm. Jimin can hardly hold the entirety of his cheek by how small his hand is. His thumb rubs gently at his cheek, stroking a caress into the rough stubble until Jeongguk’s blinking his hazel eyes open. They find Jimin’s fast, like there’s nothing else they could possibly be looking at. His gaze is deep, intense and liquid. Molten lava staring back at Jimin by how they burn with lust and more.
“Not tonight,” he echoes, firm like he’s sealing off a deal. By the determination shining behind his irises, Jimin might believe so. And he does, he believes Jeongguk means it and lets himself melt into the hold gently laying him down again. He shivers uncontrollably, and Jeongguk’s eyes narrow in the slightest. Jimin offers him a quivering smile, the hand on the side of his face still hasn’t fallen away. “Make it go away,” he demands with a plea, that quivering and hesitant smile yet again on his lips.
Jeongguk’s eyes flick to it, throat bobbing and a muscle twitching under Jimin’s fingers. “Okay,” he rasps out, hoarse and low and a tad bit hesitant. Jimin’s body tenses up, trepidation rushing like a thrill through his veins. A buzz underneath his skin. “Okay,” Jeongguk repeats, slightly firmer. Both his hands rake and stroke down Jimin’s body, easing away the goosebump and leaving warm trails behind. His heat lingers, seeping deep through Jimin’s skin and fighting the night’s chill.
For a long moment, he does nothing but that. His hand touch and knead the flesh underneath, pressing just enough for it to turn pale but never enough to truly hurt. Jimin lets him, eyes darting from such hands to Jeongguk’s focused face. His features are sharp, but there’s something distant in what Jimin sees that he can’t miss or ignore. It has his throat tightening, a fearful doubt creeping around his heart. “Jeongguk?” he asks feebly, hesitant. It takes a moment for Jeongguk to look up, for his eyes to blink into focus and meet Jimin’s. His lips part, he wets them as a frown dawns on his sharp features. His hands stop moving, resting at the juncture of Jimin’s legs and hips. His thumbs so close to where the omega’s most sensitive. The touch is ticklish for how light, teasing even when it’s with no real purpose.
Jeongguk’s looking at him, waiting, and yet Jimin forgets all he meant to ask. He heaves out a sigh, a breath that empties his lungs. “Kiss me again?” he hears himself pleading, unwilling to bear the silence between them any longer. Jeongguk’s eyes widen, his breath catching soundly. He doesn’t let Jimin ask again, doesn’t let doubt and anxiety settle in the omega’s chest. His mouth is on Jimin’s with a shaky exhale on his behalf, claiming all that’s been offered to him. All he used to take by force so many times before.
And Jimin—for once tonight—takes just as much. He revels in the feelings, in the hot coiling in his lower belly, in the subtle friction of his hardening cock against Jeongguk. He revel and relishes all that’s been given to him, every raw sensation coursing through his nerves, every need whimpering at the back of his mind. He lets them lead him on, legs twitching where they wrap around Jeongguk’s waist, hips bucking up when the alpha’s teeth trap his bottom lip. It tears a breathy moan from him, the pressing of his cock against Jeongguk, the subtle sting at his lips. Pain and pleasure melding in one heated force that takes over him. Jimin’s hands move, grasping Jeongguk’s back, his hips rutting up now that he’s had so little. He wants more. That’s what he moans into the alpha’s mouth when they’re about to break apart, what his watery eyes tell him with liquid desperation. Jimin’s hands are clasped behind Jeongguk’s neck, fingers weaving with the short hair at the base of his head. His nails rake and scratch, his hips desperately seeking to build a pace. It’s hard and strenuous, uncomfortable at the very least.
A whine slips past his lips, frustrated when Jeongguk keeps still and firm against him. “You said,” he tails, choking around words. Nothing. Jeongguk said nothing, but there was a promise in his eyes just moments ago, and Jimin was so willing to take it. He didn’t mistake what he saw. Jeongguk hums against his lips, and his hands start moving again. Jimin holds his breath, feeling them grabbing his thighs and unwinding them from around the alpha. Jeongguk is kissing him again as he shifts them both, as fits himself again between the omega’s bent legs. “Sometimes I wonder,” he breathes between kisses, wet and hot against Jimin’s skin. “If it tastes as good as it smells.”
Jimin’s eyes snap open. Two fingers are prodding at his hole, gathering slick he didn’t even notice before, too entranced on everything else. But it’s there, coating his skin and now Jeongguk’s fingers. They rub at the sensitive circle of muscles, pushing lightly but never breaching past it. Jimin groans in frustration against the alpha’s mouth, hips bucking up, rolling in the mindless attempt to fulfill that primal instinct slowly driving him insane. He could’ve ignored it before, but Jeongguk’s teasing makes it impossible for him to think about anything else. About anything that isn’t the cruelly sweet promise of something filling the ache and the need coiling in his lower belly. “What do you think?” Jeongguk muses, pulling away just enough for Jimin to glare at him through unshed tears. His eyes are burning, but what meets them is a smug and pleased smirk. It carves an enticing dimple on Jeongguk’s. Jimin blinks, can’t take his eyes off of him. And there he is, that boy he caught a glimpse of before. He’s young, boyish and eager. Jimin’s heart stutters and stammers in his chest. He’s holding his breath, can’t seem to fill his lungs.
His sight is blurry, eyes burning. He has to blink, but what he sees next is no better than what he closed his eyes to. The teasing and maddening touch at his fluttering hole is gone, leaving him yearning and crying out. Jimin chokes on whatever sound was climbing up his throat, breath stuck when he finds Jeongguk bringing his slick wet fingers up. He leads them to his mouth, lips parting and tongue darting out to taste. Jimin gulps, Jeongguk’s eyelids fluttering close. He hums, a purr that shakes through the omega. He can’t look away, cheeks burning, chest hollowing out as he exhales sharply. His eyes never dart away though, watching as the alpha’s index and middle fingers slide past the seam of his lips, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks around it. Jimin’s throat clicks, his thighs tightening around Jeongguk with a twitch. His cock throbs, hard and aching where it lays neglected on Jimin’s stomach. At some point—and he didn’t even realize when—Jeongguk’s hands had rid him of the robes clothing him, leaving Jimin bare and naked.
When Jeongguk’s eyes blink open, Jimin is still unable to look away. No matter the burning flush at his cheeks and spreading down his neck and to his chest. No matter the primal need to hide from the hunger he’s met with. Jimin can’t look away. He’s captive. There’s no hiding from the lust pooling behind Jeongguk’s irises, not when he was the one chasing after it. “Sweet,” Jeongguk shares, licking at his lips, fingers slipping from his mouth with a wet and obscene squelch. “Far sweeter that I expected.” His head cocks to the side, and Jimin can pinpoint the exact moment a thought forms behind his eyes. “I wonder,” he muses, trailing off, shifting and slipping down. He lowers himself down on Jimin, lips brushing over shivering and heated skin. He traces a path down the omega’s chest, only grazing over his nipples. Jimin’s body jerks, his thighs quivering.
Jeongguk’s hands rest on his legs, keeping him in place firmly. “Let me,” he instructs, glancing up at Jimin through thick eyelashes. This time, the omega can’t bear to hold his gaze, hands slipping away from Jeongguk’s body and fisting at his side. His eyes avert, closing. It’s all the alpha needs to keep moving, as much as a permission he’s ever been given. Neither stops wondering about it, about what it means. Not now, not tonight.
Jimin couldn’t find the bearings to do so, not when Jeongguk’s lips are pressing on his lower belly, over an old and thin scar. Not when his hands are carefully keeping from other scars, large and vicious. He’s careful with every inch of Jimin’s body, like it’s made of glass, like he’s testing his limits without knowing how much he can push and prod. It’s cruel in its irony, and Jimin’s eyes burn when he notices. He wills the tears away. Not tonight, he scolds himself.
Jeongguk is leaving a trail of wet and light kisses, hesitating the closer he reaches between Jimin’s legs. He avoids the omega’s twitching cock, only briefly nudging it. He snorts coos at it, but grants no excessive attention when his focus is shifting lower. The hands on Jimin’s legs move, grabbing the back of his thighs and pulling them up. He hooks the omega’s legs over his shoulders, glancing up at him again once his face is so close to the wetness at Jimin’s twitching hole. It takes a moment for the omega to meet such a deep and inquiring gaze, throat bobbing and clicking. Jeongguk wets his lips, eyes studying him, fingers digging into the supple meat of Jimin’s thighs.
“Tell me,” he instructs through a hoarse whisper. “Will it feel good?” His eyes gleam, shining with genuine curiosity, like the matter is of true importance to him.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin croaks, hands clutching around nothing. The alpha hums, spurring him on. His head leans to the side, resting against the sensitive skin of Jimin’s inner thigh. He turns slightly, eyes never breaking the link of their gazes. His lips brush over the omega’s quivering thighs, hot and tickling and maddening. It forces a wave of shivers down his spine, toes curling and heels digging into the alpha’s back. He chuckles deep in his throat, lips parting to show pearly-white teeth, sharp canines Jimin’s never had the care to notice. Now though, under the shrouding moonlight, he can’t bear to miss any detail painting the alpha’s picture. Every sharp line and small quirk embeds in his mind like a mark. Like the scars on his body. Burning the same and yet. Jimin’s eyes screw shut, his head pushing back into the stone.
He only dares looking down again when—breaking the sudden stillness—one of Jeongguk’s hands takes his own. It curls around Jimin’s wrist and leads it down to his own hair. “If I,” he begins, stopping to wet his lips. He frowns, glances down. Jimin squirms, hand twitching around ivory strands. “Don’t let me hurt you tonight.” Jimin gapes at him, breathless and stunned. He distantly feels himself nodding, gulping and forcing air to his lungs. He nods again when Jeongguk hesitates, biting down on his bottom lip.
The alpha doesn’t look at him as he leans down, shifting Jimin, pulling his hips up until they’re at his mouth’s level. “Jeongguk, I-” Jimin’s words die in his throat. Whatever he meant to say crumbling when the alpha’s tongue licks tentatively along the crease between his cheeks. It runs over his twitching hole, over his perineum. It gathers the slick wetting Jimin’s skin, laps at it eagerly. Jimin’s choking, he can’t breath. His cock starts to weep, the hand in Jeongguk’s hair fisting but not daring to pull, lest the alpha stops. He wants him to never stop. To give more and more, teach him a pleasure Jimin’s never known to be possible. Jeongguk laves at his skin, teeth sinking into the supple flesh, tongue licking and prodding at his fluttering hole. He’s spurred on by Jimin’s weak and choked cries, by his quivering thighs and the hands fisting in his hair. They hold him in place, pushing him down with eager hunger for more. It should be degrading, it should have Jeongguk pulling away in disgust. All it does, though, is dictate the pace of his tongue’s licking, the roaming and kneading of his hands on Jimin’s thighs. It tells him to continue, to learn.
Jimin’s moans and little whines are teachers to him, showing where it pleases the omega the most. His ears are keen to it, picking on the high pitch of Jimin’s voice and taking it as a master. So, when he tentatively lets the tip of his tongue prod at the omega’s hole, he knows it’s the right way. Jimin’s voice breaks, his body jerking up. He moans so loudly and brokenly Jeongguk is drunk on it. The sweetness coating his tongue, the subtle tang of it almost sickening and yet. Yet is intoxicating like the sounds leaving Jimin, like the body writhing under his touch and the hands holding him in place. It’s addicting like the cloud of thick pheromones surrounding them, so much like the scent of an omega in heat. But Jimin’s not, and this is all Jeongguk’s doing. His cock is hard and throbbing, pressing against the cold stone. Jeongguk could come just like this, it would take nothing much but this. He doesn’t let himself indulge on the hunger of his lust, focusing his every effort on the lithe omega rutting his hips to his face, meeting the shallow licks and thrusts of his tongue.
Jeongguk snickers into the wetness, pulling away just enough to look at Jimin. His head is thrown back, the arch of his throat drawing and alluring line under the moonlight. His chest is rising and falling with his erratic heaving, nipples hard and inviting. He considers reaching for them, but there’s so much between Jimin’s legs, and he’s unwilling to leave just yet. The omega’s body moves with little and sharp jerks, pushing against him and crying out the moment he pulls away. Jeongguk doesn’t leave him waiting for long, just until Jimin’s lifting his head and meeting his gaze. Then, as their eyes find each other, Jeongguk reaches one hand between Jimin’s cheeks, fingers rubbing at the hole he just left. Jimin gasps, lips so open and swollen they’re calling for the alpha. He still doesn’t move away, tunes his senses to the omega’s body. A student to its teachings. Jimin writhes and moans, he jerks and meets his touch eagerly. Jeongguk slips one finger past the ring of fluttering and soft muscles. The glide is easy, wet and hot. Jimin’s walls clench around him, his body tensing up. Jeongguk’s finger is so much smaller than his cock, yet Jimin’s so tight around him, the fit so snuck he can’t help but wonder how the omega can take all of him. His cock throbs as the thought crosses his mind, eager to show just how. To prove Jimin can take him just perfectly. The thought is tempting, but Jeongguk only thrusts his finger deeper, allowing Jimin one moment to accommodate before pulling back. The omega’s eyes twitch wide, unblinking. His lips gaping so prettily. He’s staring at Jeongguk, but as the finger pushes inside again his head throws back again. The alpha blinks, drinks in the sight.
He casts his attention down again forcefully, unwilling to miss the sight waiting for him. Jimin’s pink and wet hole is enough to steal his breath away. Entrancing like no art ever could be. Jeongguk cannot look away, not for the life of him. And he refuses to, drinking in the little and jerkish rolls of Jimin’s hips, relishing the burn at his scalp when Jimin’s grip pulls and pushes at him. He wets his lips, keeps staring at the way his finger disappears past that tight hole. He pulls away, and prods another finger inside. The fit is tight, the glide not as smooth. Yet Jimin takes him with a moan, a broken call of his name. Jeongguk’s eyes slide up, falling on the cocklet twitching and weeping neglected on Jimin’s belly. He stares at it, and knows how good it felt to have his own wrapped by the omega’s lips.
His hand never stop, a slow pace of in and out of Jimin’s hole. It builds up, eager for more of the omega’s loud and high pitched sounds, so lovely he never wants to go without. Jeongguk’s hand trails up, closing loosely around the base of Jimin’s cock. The omega goes tense, but he’s too lost in pleasure to try object or inquire. Jeongguk doesn’t give him time to even try, angling Jimin’s length to his lips, head cocking curiously to the side. It cannot be that hard, and it will be worth the unimaginably sweet sound Jimin is bound to emit. Jeongguk’s sure of it, and there’s nearly no hesitation as his lips wrap around the head of Jimin’s cock. It’s salty and tangy on his tongue, but hardly strong enough to chase away the sweetness still coating his mouth. Jeongguk doubts it would’ve deterred him, not with the way Jimin screams as he sucks on the tip, his fingers thrusting in to the last knuckle. The omega shakes under him, hips bucking up until Jeongguk’s nose is hitting Jimin’s pelvis. The head of his cock hits his throat, the walls around his fingers clenching so tight. Jeongguk’s throat closes, he gags. His eyes water, but even as he instinctively pulls back, he doesn’t leave the omega. He holds the head of Jimin’s cock in his mouth, his fingers still buried deep in him. Hot spurts of a watery liquid fill his mouth, less dense than his own release but copious enough to fill his mouth. It’s tangy and bitter, but still he doesn’t pull away. Without putting much of a thought to it, Jeongguk swallows the liquid. He shallowly sucks around the head of Jimin’s cock, tongue licking and prodding at the slit. His fingers resume their thrusting, slower but still deep. He doesn’t want to stop, not yet. He wants to hear it again, every singly sound Jimin’s just revealed to him. But the omega’s hands in his hair are pulling him away. He’s shaking, hips jerking away.
With a frown, Jeongguk’s forced to let go of him with a wet squelch. His fingers slip out just the same and he delicately lowers Jimin’s body to the stone. The omega’s shaking, shivering. His hands are still fisted in Jeongguk’s hair. Something in the new distance between them doesn’t feel good. It brings an ache to the alpha’s chest. He rubs at it, unknowingly spreading Jimin’s slick over his heartbeat. His other hand reaches out, and Jeongguk is pulling him up before long.
Jimin’s limp and boneless in his arm, wrapping himself around the alpha and letting himself be held on Jeongguk’s lap. His head lolls to the side, led to rest on alpha’s shoulder by a hand cupping its back. Jimin’s hands grasp his shoulders, but it’s weak and slips away with too much ease. Jeongguk doesn't mind, he holds him tight enough for the both of them. He holds Jimin until he stops trembling and shivering, keeping him close until a new sort of shaking is quaking through the omega’s body. It’s a sob, strong and loud in Jeongguk’s ears.
He tenses up, arms twitching around the small body pressing to his own. His heart halts, stutters. He holds his breath, but his throat is tight. All Jeongguk can do is hold Jimin as he cries and sobs in the safety of a firm body pressed to his own. Of arms wrapped around him. Jeongguk keeps Jimin to himself, and listens as he bleeds out endless tears. The sound of his sobs and whimpers is muffled against the alpha’s shoulder, but there’s still no way to hide it. For a long time, Jimin cries all of his sorrow and Jeongguk holds him like he never knew he could. It’s a hug, and neither can bear to acknowledge it as such.
It’s only when Jimin’s cries stop—once his sobs subside—that he pulls away. The omega rubs away the snot and tears on his flushed face, swollen eyes glaring at Jeongguk. His other hand curls into a fist, hitting the alpha’s chest weakly. It doesn’t pull away, pressing over Jeongguk’s stuttering heartbeat. “I hate you,” he sniffles, shoulders lifting jerkishly. “I hate you so much.” He's crying out again, gulping down a breath but unable to stop the quivering of his body.
Jeongguk’s arms still wrap around him firmly. He doesn’t let go. Jimin doesn’t writhe or thrash to free himself. He weakly and meekly sits on the alpha’s lap, while hatred wells in his eyes.
Jeongguk stares back at him. He doesn't dare looking away from the broken beauty he's holding. He can still feel the lingering taste of Jimin’s release on his tongue, the only testament to what has just happened.
“So much,” Jimin rasps, voice low and hoarse. The shards of his words are nothing but blades cutting through Jeongguk’s chest.
It was never meant to be like this. He was never meant to feel this way. Jimin’s voice echoes in his head, and the alpha doesn’t argue with it. He doesn’t inquire, doesn’t fight the hatred burning in those wet and clear eyes. He holds Jimin against his chest, and feels the omega’s warmth seeping into his own body.
“I know.” Jimin’s body tilts forward bonelessly, head hiding in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. It still shakes with badly suppressed sobs. Jimin's hands grasp at the alpha’s shoulders, fingers digging in the skin, nails scratching until they draw blood. “I know,” Jeongguk tells him, one hand reaching up to cup the back of Jimin’s head. And he does know.
Jeongguk knows exactly the extent of Jimin’s hatred. He knows it intimately. It had been carved in his bones a long time ago. During another lifetime, to a younger version of him. Jeongguk knows how this sort of hatred rots one’s blood and bones, devouring from within. He knows, and yet. He holds Jimin, and knows it’s too late now.
Jimin sniffles against him.
They could’ve been happy, he thinks to himself. In another lifetime. In a kinder world, they could’ve been happy. Jeongguk just showed him so much. That’s he is capable of tenderness, of caring.
They could’ve been happy. What a joke.
Jeongguk holds him still, head tilted back, eyes gazing up at the sky. What a joke, he thinks to himself. But the laugh in his throat feels too much like a sob of his own. He doesn’t dare test it out and swallows it down.
He holds Jimin, the weight pressing against his chest grounding. The warmth exchanged between their bodies keeps him anchored to the night, to the feeling of having the omega here, with him. Undeniably his. And it’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jimin is his, afterall.
-
Taehyung is sleepless as he lays down. He gazes up at the ceiling through the darkness, tuning down the sounds all around. The servants room is packed with other young men, feeling the air with the reek of their scent. It clogs up Taehyung’s throat, but he lays down on the hard bed and stubbornly glares at the ceiling. It offers no sort of answers, bland and unresponsive to the countless questions storming his mind.
Not too far from where he lays, someone tosses and turns. Thin sheets ruffle, the sound barely loud enough to overpower the snoring of an alpha laying next to Taehyung. It has been rumbling in his ears for hours now, nearly since as soon as they’ve all been packed into the cramped room for the night. At some point, Taehyung convinced himself he could no longer hear it, no longer be bothered by it. Now, though, he groans and fights the urge to hit the alpha. Suffocating him in his sleep seems like just an as good option, anything to make it stop.
The shuffling coming from not too far starts again, the sound new to his ears enough to catch Taehyung’s attention. He shifts subtly, head turning to the side and eyes squinting through the dense darkness. For a moment, everything is quiet all over again. Nothing can be heard past the snoring and heavy breathing.
“Hey,” someone says then, from about the same direction as the earlier shuffling. “Are you awake?”
It takes Taehyung a moment to realize he’s the one who’s being addressed. He frowns, eyes squinting. “I guess,” he drawls, voice hoarser than he expected.
The young man chuckles, low in his throat enough to be a gruff and short-lived sound. “I can’t sleep,” he sighs, moving again where he lies. Taehyung can almost picture him, turning on his side to stare through the darkness. “What about you?”
Taehyung shrugs, he considers not entertaining this conversation. The night is still long ahead of him, and he’s restless even when tired from the day of labor. “Me neither,” he confesses, keeping his voice low and careful not to wake any other.
Whoever he’s talking to hums in agreement. “Have you been here for a long time?” he asks after a moment of hesitation. “I’ve only been here for half a moon cycle,” he continues, not waiting for Taehyung to answer. The alpha doesn’t mind, almost wishes he wasn’t expected to say much at all. “But I hope I can keep working here for a long time.” He pauses again, Taehyung lays on his back. He’s staring at the ceiling again, one arm bent behind his head. He waits for the other to keep going, saying more so that he doesn’t have to. “What about you?”
Grimacing, Taehyung heaves out a breath. “Not too long,” he confesses, frowning up at the ceiling.
“Why?” the other inquiries, perking up. His voice rises in pitch, and Taehyung grimaces, holding his breath. No one stirs, and he heaves out a relieved sigh. “Just because,” he drawls, shrugging even when it goes unseen.
“C’mon, man,” the other says, a whine that drags out in the night. “What’s the use in keeping secrets?” He sounds all too amused, the light tease in his voice enough to tug a smile up Taehyung’s lips. He considers it, for how dangerous it might be. “Man?” he pushes hesitantly.
Taehyung’s eyes roll, the slightest sense of irritation crawling underneath his skin. “It’s nothing big.”
The man huffs, he groans. “Well,” he says rather pointedly. “I’m here to make money.” Taehyung arches a questioning and surprised brow. There has to be easier ways to make money than this. The royal palace is the last place he would willingly come to, no matter how desperate his need. Then again, Taehyung still crawled his way here, still found a way to be employed as a servant to the innermost quarters. The thought curves his lips in a smug smirk. He’s made it so far, and he’s so close to getting what he wants. “What for?” he hears himself asking, not quite caring but entertaining the man with a lack of something better to do. Both his arms bend and fold behind his head, propping it up. His eyes close, he listens to the snoring and regular breathing while he waits. “I’m gonna take a mate,” the young alpha tells him proudly. “I’ll make enough to buy a home and take a mate.” It sounds like a nice plan, like a young kid fantasizing about the future. Taehyung snorts, lips twisting. “What?” he huffs out upon hearing that.
“Nothing,” Taehyung says, head shaking dismissively. “Do you really think you can do that?”
“Of course I do,” the other presses, firm and determinate. “The palace pays well, it won’t take me long.”
Taehyung hums, he considers it. He considers the far fetches and unrealistic eventuality and snorts at himself. If anything, the good pay is one more thing he will take from this place. “So?” the young alpha prompts, moving and shifting loudly yet again. “What about you?”
“There’s someone I want to see.”
Silence—relative as it might be—dawns over them. Taehyung is given enough time to regret his choice of words, to grimace and wince. He shouldn’t have said it, he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“That’s not so different from me,” the other naively comments, voice fading away pensively. “Ain’t that?”
Taehyung chuckles, a hoarse and low sound that dies off in his chest. “Maybe,” he muses, the tension in his muscles fading away.
“Is it an omega?”
Taehyung hums absently, eyes still closed. Suddenly, he feels much tired than he was just moments ago.
“Is he pretty? I bet he must be.”
Taehyung thinks back to the last time he saw Jimin. His eyes red and welled with tears, fear rooted so deeply behind his irises. The last image of him he has hardly resembles the boy he used to know. That Jimin was a broken shard, a wounded animal on the verge of death. But then he thinks back to the youth he grew up with, full cheeks flushed pink. His laugh ringing like a silver bell and eyes shining so brightly the sun would be ashamed. Taehyung thinks back to the Jimin he grew up with, the one who means everything to him. And thinks that yes, he’s pretty like a sheltered prince might be. Pretty like the delicate treasures held in their homeland. Maybe, to any other alpha, Jimin would be pretty enough to arouse deeper desires. The thought brings a wave of nausea coursing through him. Bile rises to his throat, eyes closing tight and chest clenching painfully. Taehyung’s guts churn, and he bodily fights to suppress a snarl.
“Yeah,” the young alpha muses, sounding amused enough to catch Taehyung’s drifting focus. “I bet he is.”
Taehyung says nothing, he thinks this is the last of it.
“Mine is too,” the other continues, his voice muffled and distant. “I’ll make him mine the moment I’m out of here.”
Taehyung doesn’t comment on it, he doesn’t care enough to. This time, the young alpha is merciful enough not to add more. The night fades away, slowly drifting into nothingness. As he feels his own consciousness subsiding, Taehyung reassures himself that this won’t last long. He’s gotten this far, and he’s so close.
Jimin is here, held somewhere in the depths of the royal palace. All Taehyung has to do is find him and take him away, save the defenseless omega from the nightmare of his captivity. A pang of sharp pain cuts through his chest. It’s been so long since Jimin was taken, years since he fell into the enemy’s hands. Years since he was forsaken for a peace that brought no relief to their land. It’s been so long, and Taehyung can only pray he will be met again with a resemblance of the Jimin he knew. That he’s still there, somewhere, somewhat.
It won’t change things, Taehyung will still take him away. Kill his captor and get both back where they’re safe. It doesn’t matter the state of Jimin, but it would be nice to have him back. To be able to act like the past six years never happened. It would be nice. Taehyung thinks he could live with that. All he has to do is get Jimin back.