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A startled shriek pierces the silence in the apartment, making Jungkook grin widely as he pulls open the door to the freezer.
The smile immediately falls from his face as a bowl of ice, having been precariously balanced atop a bag of frozen corn, topples forward, cascading cubed and crushed ice all down his front to scatter across the kitchen floor.
Jungkook tips his head back with a good natured groan, crouching to pick up the bowl only to see a note taped to the bottom: ‘Gotcha, asshole!’ A detailed cartoon dick, knot and all, was included below the scrawled message, surrounding the sentiment with spurts of—
Jungkook raises an eyebrow.
“Oh you fucking prick, there’s piss all over my bathroom now thanks to you!” Park Jimin snarls as he storms down the hallway. Jungkook pokes his head out of the kitchen just as the seething Beta stomps past, clutching his sweatpants and sweater in one hand held as far away from himself as possible, heading towards the laundry closet.
“Plastic wrap over the toilet bowl is crossing a line, Jeon Jungkook. You’re fucking disgusting!” Jimin continues, and Jungkook can’t help but huffing out a laugh hearing the Beta bang around in the laundry closet, making as much noise as possible before slamming the washer door closed.
Wearing only a shirt and boxers, his face flushed in righteous annoyance, Jimin storms into the kitchen to continue tearing into Jungkook, only to snort back a laugh at the scene before him. “Well, I guess you found mine, huh? But you’ll never see my next prank coming, knot-for-brains.”
Jungkook sits back on his heels, damp tea towels in each hand, “C’mon Jimin, we must be even by now. I don’t want to play anymore.”
“You’re only saying that because you know you fucked up and you’re scared of what I’ll do now that you’ve upped the stakes,” Jimin says smugly, leaning over Jungkook to wash his hands in the kitchen sink. He pauses after reaching for the tea towel to dry his hands, then stoops to wipe them unceremoniously on the back of Jungkook’s shirt.
“Hey!” Jungkook wrenches himself away, “Grab another towel you filthy creature, get away from me.” He grins as he reaches behind himself to swat at Jimin’s legs with the now wet towel in his hand, making Jimin dodge with a yelp.
“Careful there, big guy, I haven’t had a chance to wash my feet yet and my socks got soaked,” Jimin coos, prodding Jungkook’s arm with his toes, making the Alpha squirm away in ernest.
“You’re disgusting, Park!” Jungkook yells through barely suppressed laughter, scrabbling to his feet to wash his hands and arms.
“You’re such a dramatic Alpha, I was kidding,” Jimin sniffs, offended. “Where’s the cleaner? I ran out in my bathroom, for obvious reasons.” He snags a handful of paper towels and the offered bottle of disinfectant to saunter out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards his room. “Seriously though, you’re going to need to watch your back.”
Jungkook’s laugh follows the Beta down the hallway, “Give it your best shot, I guess.”
A derisive snort was Jungkook’s only reply as he shook his hands over the sink before tiptoeing over the still-damp floor to the linen closet to grab another couple of tea towels and to remove his now soaked socks.
They’ve only been living together for six months, and other than this— an ongoing prank war that neither of them could remember starting— it’s been damn near perfect. Jungkook had been living with another Alpha previously, and between conflicting rut schedules, and the other Alpha’s rancid scent— lime, hot asphalt, with a hint of raw ground beef of all things— it had not ended well. Jungkook had left as soon as the lease came due, crashing on more than a few couches until he’d finally posted an ad in search of a Beta roommate.
Jimin had responded almost immediately, explaining that he'd recently found the perfect apartment, but had sadly overestimated the expenses and was quickly running out of savings. He'd been looking for another Beta, but after screening dozens of possible candidates, had expanded his search to include the other sub-genders as well.
Jungkook, upon seeing the apartment— a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom unit with the bedrooms on opposite sides of the shared living space— and upon subtly sniffing the air to check for scents, had offered more than the asking price if only to secure the second bedroom immediately. Jimin had laughed, turned down the extra cash, and had emailed over the sublet contract as soon as Jungkook had set foot on the sidewalk outside.
Jungkook, collection of wet tea towels and his socks in hand, passes the laundry closet on the way to his room, then pauses, retracing his steps.
“For fuck’s sake, Jimin,” he grumbles under his breath. He opens the door to the washing machine, never turned on, and wrinkles his nose against the faint smell of urine that wafts from the barrel. He tosses what he has in his hands, then adds more from their shared laundry basket of towels before heading into his room to grab a couple items from his own dirty laundry pile. As he’s adding the detergent, he wonders if it’s been worth it going through with prank after prank.
An image of Jimin in his boxers springs to mind, the black fabric hugging every curve of that shapely ass as though they were painted on.
Okay, maybe it was worth it.
Jungkook had never really been one to notice Betas, even ones with curves like that, but even his wolf had to admit that Jimin was interesting. He chalked it up to one of the many reasons they got along so well as roommates— no hormones to worry about, no conflicting or distracting scents, no Alpha bravado or Omega neediness to make things complicated— just the two of them mostly sticking to their own routines and spaces, with the occasional movie or game night thrown in for good measure.
That is, until the pranks started— small at first, minor inconveniences that made them laugh, and plot, laying trap after trap for each other that began to escalate into the absurd. Jimin was a relentless opponent, his retaliation swift and often well planned out, whereas Jungkook was left on the defensive more often than not, slapping together hastily researched schemes just to keep up.
He’d felt pretty good about his counter-prank game until this evening, wondering if he’d finally gone too far as he was stretching out the plastic wrap over the cold porcelain bowl of Jimin’s toilet in his ensuite bathroom. Hearing the keys in the lock of their door had him scrambling out of Jimin’s space and into the kitchen before he could form another thought, not wanting to be caught red-handed in his roommate’s space.
He’d have been worried about leaving traces of his scent behind if Jimin wasn’t a Beta, but he knew that they didn’t have the ability to pick up on the complexities of scents and hormonal shifts like the other sub-genders. He did get a little nervous, however, when Jimin had paused in the foyer after taking off his shoes, already suspicious. The Beta hadn’t hesitated to shuffle off in the direction of his room, though, after tossing out a greeting, so Jungkook had relaxed.
With the washing machine churning away, he sauntered back into his room, falling back on his bed and pulling his phone off the charge pad on his dresser to text Taehyung, his best friend.
JK: Well, I did it.
[6:37pm]
TH: OML, how did it go?
[6:39pm]
JK: I mean, it worked if that’s what you’re asking
[6:39pm]
TH: XDDDD I knew it would! He must have been PISSED
[6:40pm]
JK: Haha
JK: You have no idea
[6:40pm]
TH: Maybe now he’ll stop knowing you’ll resort to actual biological warfare
[6:42pm]
JK: I doubt it, but we’ll see
[6:42pm]
He spends the next two weeks tip-toeing around the apartment, Jimin’s threat of retaliation leaving in its wake a sense of dread so all encompassing that he can’t help but feel like he’s walking on eggshells as soon as he steps through the front door. It gets to the point where Jimin would just watch him over the rims of his glasses from where he sits reading on the couch nearly every evening, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips— which drives Jungkook to even greater depths of anxiety.
After another three weeks of nothing— no vaseline on the door knobs, no ping-pong balls cascading from the kitchen cabinets, so whoopee cushions under the couch cushions, no fake spiders in his coffee mugs— and he’s finally started to relax, almost sure that Jimin had given up.
Which is why he is completely caught off guard when he steps into the main bathroom of the apartment a few days later.
The small space, usually doused in his scent— cedar wood, charcoal, and bamboo— overwhelmingly reeks of chemical cleaners. He wrinkles his nose and leans out of the doorway to peer down the hall towards the living room.
“Hey, were you in my bathroom?” He asks, knowing full well that the Beta had been in there.
“Hm?” Comes the too-quick reply, followed by Jimin’s head popping into view over the back of the couch, his eyes innocently wide. “Oh, I was deep cleaning my bathroom and figured I might as well do yours while I was at it.”
Jungkook considers this for a moment, fighting the urge to narrow his eyes, before offering Jimin a playful grin. “You went a little overboard, I think. I know you Betas can’t smell shit, but that doesn’t mean you have to destroy my sense of smell.”
Jimin huffs, flopping back onto the couch and out of sight. “You could say thanks, you ungrateful dog.”
“Thank you!” Jungkook lets the sarcasm drip from his words as he flips him off, well aware that the gesture was more felt than seen as he pops back into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He makes sure to turn the fan on high, then steps into the shower, rushing through his normally structured routine, if only to get out of the bathroom as quickly as possible.
Which is how he doesn’t notice that his conditioner is actually mayonnaise until he’s lathered it thoroughly into his scalp.
His whole body shudders at the realization, and he can’t help the frustrated growl that rumbles through his clenched teeth.
“Jimin! You rat bastard!” He calls out, gagging as he rinses the thick condiment from his hair, the heat from the water making the smell even worse. He has to wash his hair three more times, and scrub his body raw with his loofah, until he feels clean again. Jungkook steps out of the shower and wraps his towel around his waist, not bothering to dry himself off. He can hear Jimin’s barely suppressed giggle as he opens the door of the bathroom, and it only gets louder as he stomps into his bedroom, beyond pissed off.
He still feels gross, still feels the oil on his skin, can still smell the tang of the mayonnaise in his nostrils as he pulls open his underwear drawer—
A sudden pop of noise startles him into stepping back, and it’s only Jimin’s howling laughter from the front room that pulls his attention immediately to what now lay scattered around, and on, his dresser.
Glitter. It’s everywhere. On the carpet, in his underwear drawer, stuck to the wet skin of his chest and stomach, covering his arms.
He quickly glances in the mirror above his dresser. Holy shit, it’s on his face. It’s in his hair.
He’s too shocked to speak, his mind a complete blank, when Jimin knocks on the doorframe.
“That’s the skin of a killer, Jungkook, and here I thought you were a wolf all this time.”
Jungkook’s vision goes red, rage taking over as his attention snaps to Jimin. “You fucking prick—”
Jimin drops the cocky smirk immediately, looking like he’d been ready for a fight from the beginning. “Nope, not happening, asshole. I warned you that I’d get you back for what you did to me last time, so you don’t get to go all snarly at me.”
Jungkook can feel his wolf press itself against his skin, the fur rough just underneath the surface, adding to his overstimulation. He shakes his head, trying to center himself. “We’re done with this bullshit, I mean it. I won’t have this escalate any more than it already has.” More bite than he expects enters his tone as he clenches his fists against the rising of his wolf— his words a command, an Alpha to a submissive Beta.
Rather than recoil instinctively, Jimin squares his shoulders, stepping into the room and into Jungkook’s space. “Don’t you take that tone with me, you dick, we’re not animals. Get a hold of yourself.”
Jungkook’s wolf retreats within himself, confused, and the rage follows with it, leaving behind only annoyance.
He sighs, blinking hard. “You really gotta help me clean this shit up. I’m going to have to shower again and that just really pisses me off.”
Jimin pauses, then rolls his eyes as he pushes himself off the doorframe. “Fine. Knowing your cleaning habits, I’d be risking my damage deposit if I left you to do it on your own anyways.”
Jungkook nudges past him on his way to the bathroom. “I’m going to rinse myself off then grab the vacuum.”
“Don’t take forever in there, I’m not doing this all by myself,” Jimin snarks, hands on his hips as he surveys the damage. “Shit, it really did get everywhere.”
Three days later, Jungkook nearly runs over a petite woman as she exits a shop on his way home from work. She squeaks and flails her arms, the small stack of pamphlets in her hands fluttering to the concrete.
“I’m so sorry!” Jungkook immediately crouches to gather the papers as they start to flutter in the breeze, managing to collect all but a few that had managed to land in the road.
“No, no, it’s my fault, I should have been looking where I was going,” the woman, an Omega, says shyly, taking the papers back as he offers them to her, a rosy blush rising to her cheeks. “It’s my first day, I was just excited to get started.”
Averting his gaze to avoid making either of them any more uncomfortable, he notices the storefront for the first time. ‘Aromatique Organique’
“Did this open recently? I don’t think I remember seeing it here before.”
“Yes, we opened just last week! We specialize in curated scents for the discerning Alpha, Omega, or even Beta to help with ruts, heats, scent suppression, scent accentuation, or to help harmonize a home.” The Omega rattles off the obviously recently memorized tagline, then shoves a pamphlet into Jungkook’s hand, “That last one is for the newly presented who may be experiencing scent expression for the first time, or post-hormonal individuals who are having difficulty in expressing themselves satisfactorily in their intimate relationships.”
Jungkook, a bit taken aback, peers down at the paper, then back to the shop. An idea suddenly pops into his head. “You said that scents can help Betas, too?”
The woman, gaining confidence, beams, “Oh yes, of course! Even with a diminished sense of smell compared to Alphas and Omegas, who rely heavily on scent to navigate the world and their hormonal cycles, Betas can still benefit greatly from our wide array of scent blends that we have available. There’s a particular blend that’s been very popular recently due to social media that we have on sale— it’s a bit of a, uh,” her blush returns, and she flutters her lashes anxiously as her carefully rehearsed script hits a bit of a bump. “Beta aphrodisiac. Um— Would you like to come inside? One of our scent experts will absolutely be able to help you with anything you may need.”
To save the poor Omega any further embarrassment, Jungkook follows her inside and allows himself to be introduced to a Beta male behind the counter, Seojoon, who is more than happy to sell Jungkook a bottle of the spray, guaranteeing results for even the most scent-blind Beta. After a series of questions regarding scent preferences, Seojoon takes the base bottle to the back to mix the completed product.
As Seojoon is ringing up the order, Jungkook spots a bottle of extra-strength Omega Heat inducing spray on clearance next to the register.
“Am I able to get one of these, too?” He asks, picking up one of the bottles to peer at the clear liquid inside.
“If you’d like, sure, but I have to mention that it’s pre-made scent mixtures from our previous location’s testers. Each of them are a bit different, the scents are listed on the back of the bottles, and I’d really encourage you not to sniff-test as they’re really quite strong.” Seojoon wrinkles his nose automatically before he can school his expression, “There’s a reason we don’t do testers of those anymore. They’re, like, really strong.”
“Really? Stronger than the other stuff I’m getting?” Jungkook picks up each bottle, reading the backs before he finds one that he wouldn’t hate entirely— orange blossom, patchouli, and sandalwood.
“Oh yeah, but unfortunately, as I’ve already blended your order, it’s non-refundable.” Seojoon says with a tight-lipped smile, fingers hovering over the register to process the payment.
“That’s alright, I’ll grab this, too, then. Will this work on Betas?” Jungkook pulls his wallet from his backpack.
“Pretty much, though we’re all different when it comes to scents. Like, I can’t risk opening any of those bottles myself and I have a difficult time if any of our other scentologists blend up any while I’m here— I have to step outside,” the Beta chuckles while bagging up Jungkook’s order. “Receipt is in the bag for you, sir, I hope you have a good evening.”
Jimin is already home by the time Jungkook steps through their front door, already settled in on the couch for the evening, book in hand. “You’re home late, everything okay?”
Jungkook toes off his shoes, trying to act as casually as possible. “Yeah, I got caught up in training the new guy how to close. Had to count the floats for the tills over twice and I bet they’ll still be out somehow for tomorrow morning.”
“Ugh, I hate clopens.” Jimin grumbles in solidarity. “You want to watch something tonight? I’m not really feeling this.” He places his bookmark between the pages before showing off the book, a battered copy of 'The Handmaid’s Tale’, “It’s a bit too on the nose these days.”
“Not tonight, I’m going straight to bed after a shower.” Jungkook offers Jimin an apologetic smile before ducking down the hallway to his room.
“Lame!” Jimin calls after him.
The familiar sounds of one of Jimin’s favorite movies, ‘Avatar: The Way of Water’ starts up a few minutes later as Jungkook steps across the hall to take his shower, his purchase now hidden away safely in his room out of sight in the back of his closet.
The tills were definitely out the following morning, but even that couldn’t sour Jungkook’s mood. He’ll be home early today, hours before Jimin, with more than enough time to thoroughly douse the Beta’s room with the Omega Heat inducing spray.
He’d been up most of the night before reading reviews on both the Beta and Omega products, and finally decided to just go with the stronger one right out the gate. If they’re still friends by the Winter Solstice, then he can give Jimin the other spray as a gag gift or something.
Dreamed up scenarios of how his roommate would react carried him through to the end of his shift, a pleasant grin on his face despite the inept newbie and entitled customers.
Now he stands, bottle in hand, in the middle of Jimin’s room, wondering just how far he should take this— the pleasant grin long since replaced with an unsure frown.
He sprays Jimin’s bed, pauses to sniff, wrinkles his nose, then sprays it a bit more liberally. It doesn’t really interest his wolf much, even though the pheromones in the mixture originated from a mixture of both Alphas and Omegas during their peak reproductive cycles, but it doesn’t find the smell particularly offensive, either. The wolf sits behind his eyes, though, tail thumping to the rhythm of his heart, tongue lolling from a toothy grin.
Jungkook mists the curtains next, then Jimin’s pillows, then the carpet. He pauses momentarily before opening the drawers of Jimin’s dresser and spraying the clothing inside.
An anxious shiver snakes its way down between his shoulder blades as he does it, wondering if maybe that was just a step too far, before he realizes just how annoying it’ll be for Jimin to run load after load of washing. With a sheepish grin, he throws open the Beta’s closet and sprays the concoction in there too, for good measure.
He’s giggling to himself as he leaves the room to go take a shower, nearly empty bottle in hand, to cleanse the smell of patchouli and sandalwood from his skin, fighting back a sneezing fit.
-
Jimin steps into the apartment that evening and immediately freezes, his eyes darting to see Jungkook sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. Jungkook blinks owlishly back, an expression of open curiosity and confusion on his face— an expression that he’d practised in his mirror for the past hour.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Jimin’s nose twitches, or so Jungkook thinks, but then the Beta shakes his head. “Did you have someone over? I ran into our neighbour in the lobby and they thought they saw you with someone.”
Jungkook frowns, his heart rate doubling. “Nope.”
“Okay, must have been mistaken, then. His vision is starting to go, I think.”
Jungkook makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, turning his attention back to the unread book in his hands, making a point to turn the page.
“You know, I’ve never seen you reading out here before.” Jimin’s tone of voice is strained, distrusting.
“You’re rubbing off on me, I guess.” Jungkook smiles innocently, flipping another page.
Jimin hums, not sounding entirely convinced, but toes off his shoes and disappears down the hall towards his room. His steps falter in the hallway, though, and Jungkook can hear as Jimin pauses before his door. He strains his ears to hear the latch as the Beta opens the door, and smirks triumphantly as Jimin gags audibly.
He waits a few moments before setting the book down, ready for the fallout, ready to get to his feet to laugh, ready to claim his victory.
What he isn’t ready for is Jimin, staggering into the living room, snarling, his eyes wild and his irising flashing gold. A scent flows past him into the space, roiling from Jimin’s body in waves to combat the scent of the spray— a heady mix of orange, bergamot, and lavender.
Jungkook is stunned, unable to process what he sees and smells.
“Where are they?” Jimin spits venomously, “Why were they in my room?”
He stalks towards Jungkook on the couch with predatory intent, nostrils flaring.
Jungkook scrambles off the couch and away from the enraged wolf, his own wolf confused and trying to push its way forward, enticed by the scent crowding the hallway as Jungkook backs towards his room, Jimin snapping at his heels.
“Hey, holy fuck what’s wrong with you?” Jungkook shouts, holding his hands out in front of him defensively.
Jimin bends over double with a groan, arms snaking around his waist. “Oh shit,” he bites out through clenched teeth, raising hazy eyes to stare daggers at Jungkook. “You fucking asshole! Fuck, you’ve triggered my—”
“Heat.” Jungkook’s wolf provides, its voice coming through as a husky whisper through Jungkook’s lips, heavy with interest.
Jimin’s scent, an Omega’s scent, sweetens by small degrees, reacting to the Alpha’s voice.
“But you’re a Beta, I—”
“Obviously not, you stupid prick,” Jimin straightens, his face flushed, sweat beginning to bead at his brow. “I’ve been taking blockers and I lied. Whatever bullshit you got up to in my room forced my wolf to surface and it’s not happy about it!”
Jungkook’s wolf is pushing at the seams of his skin, wanting to answer Jimin’s aggression with some of its own, but he shoves it aside. “I didn’t get up to anything, I swear, Jimin— it’s just this spray I got on my way home yesterday and it’s just a prank to get you back for the glitter and the conditioner. I thought you wouldn’t be able to smell it if I just used it a couple times so I emptied the bottle in your room. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
He’s rambling, stumbling over his words, trying to sound as sincere as possible while struggling to keep his wolf in control.
Jimin snarls, a vicious sound, the gold in his eyes flashing brightly. The snarl cuts off into a sudden whine as he doubles over again. “Fuck these cramps!”
Jungkook’s wolf pants heavily in his mind, its head low as it whispers a suggestion that has Jungkook shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
“What did you say?”
Oh shit, he’d said it out loud.
“Come into my room.” The words slip out more confidently now, and Jungkook can see through the perspective of his wolf that Jimin needs help, needs him. This is his roommate, his friend, and he’s in pain.
What also courses through him through his wolf’s perception is attraction. This Beta’s— no, this Omega’s— scent is delicious, and his strength is maddening. He can feel the beginnings of his rut, not due for another month and a half, burning in his balls as his wolf presses against his mind, its claws tearing at the last of his reservations.
Jimin lets himself be pulled to his feet, only snapping when Jungkook gets too close to his neck. “You’d better start cleaning my room and getting rid of that stench. I couldn’t— hngg,” he flinches as another cramp roils through his abdomen, “— I couldn’t even begin to scent over it.”
Jungkook can barely hear him over the storm inside his own head. His wolf is loud. It wants him to carry Jimin, to nudge his nose into the crook of Jimin’s neck and breathe in, to flick out his tongue to taste—
“In here, too?” Jimin’s enraged voice cuts through the haze in his mind as his eyes snap to the bottle on his dresser. Oh shit.
“Get out,” Jimin growls, snagging the bottle and pushing it into Jungkook’s chest. The Omega’s scent grows heavy, possessive, filling the space to lay over his own scent intoxicatingly.
“I’ll just, uh… You wait here, I’ll get some washing started and open your windows.” Jungkook stammers, leaving a seething Jimin standing in the middle of his room.
It dawns on Jungkook in stages that Jimin’s wolf is jealous. He lets the thought percolate as he strips Jimin’s bedding and empties his drawers, gathering up an armful of laundry and lugging them to the laundry closet. He starts a load, adding in extra fabric softener, then trots back down the hallway to gather more. This armload, mostly from the closet, ends up in his bathtub, which he fills and empties in a bottle of body wash if only to mask the smell before he can cycle it through the washing machine next. On his way past the kitchen, he pauses before turning on his heel to grab the baking soda from under the kitchen sink to sprinkle generously over the carpet. He throws open the windows to air out whatever lingering scent is left and hopes it’s enough to calm the outraged Omega.
Once he’s done, he approaches his door, wondering if he should knock or just enter. He decides to do both, knocking twice gently before slowly opening the door.
“Hey, I’ve done all I— oh,” Jungkook’s head swims, his vision clouding over as he’s hit with a wave of Jimin’s scent, heavy in his nostrils and on his tongue. The Omega had completely taken over the space, clothing in Jungkook’s laundry basket scattered across the bed in an attempt to build a nest, and every scentable item covered in orange, bergamot, and lavender.
Jimin slinks across the bed, his wolf in complete control. “I can still smell them. Make it go away.” His voice is full of heat and a deadly promise of violence if his order isn’t obeyed.
Jungkook whines, taking his eyes off Jimin to find anything to scent himself, pumping pheromones into the air to try and help. He’s at a loss, and his wolf is growing more and more anxious, pacing behind his eyes, tail low. It wants nothing more than to please the Omega in its den, to show that they can be a good Alpha, a good provider— a good potential mate.
A good potential what? Jungkook’s anxious spiral stumbles at that thought, giving his wolf the opportunity to take complete control, dropping him to his knees with a heavy thud.
Jimin swings his legs from the side of the bed and stands, looking down his nose at Jungkook through heavy-lidded eyes, “Good. Now take off your clothes, Alpha.”
Jungkook immediately pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him out of the room and into the hall, his pants and socks following suit— a bit of a struggle on his knees but something he manages without too much trouble. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and hesitates, only pulling the fabric down over his hips at Jimin’s impatient growl.
Jimin bends at the waist, and Jungkook lets his head fall to the side, baring his neck completely, his eyes sliding closed. Fingers slide into his hair, the sensation making him shiver, and he gasps when the fingers clench into a firm fist, holding his head steady as Jimin noses along the column of his neck. Jungkook is already panting, but his breath hitches in his throat when Jimin presses his tongue, flat and hot and wet, directly against his scent gland. A trail of heat follows the tongue as Jimin licks a steady stripe up to Jungkook’s jaw, which he nips at harshly before pushing Jungkook away and straightening. He turns to crawl back into the nest, and Jungkook follows on his knees, his cock erect and heavy between his thighs, his mind a blissful mess.
He waits for permission to join, fully at the mercy of the magnificent creature stripping in the middle of his bed. His eyes follow each deliberate movement, the tip of his tongue tracing over his lip, wanting to taste each and every exposed inch of skin as they’re revealed to him.
Jimin throws his clothes out to join Jungkook’s in the hallway one by one, shirt, pants, briefs, one sock after the other, before sliding his gaze to Jungkook. The Alpha whimpers, shifting his weight from knee to knee, eager to please.
The Omega sits back on his heels, knees spread wide on the mattress, on full display. He rubs his fingers into the scent glands on his neck and drags them down his torso slowly, converging at his groin to trail down the length of his stiffening cock. One hand hits the bed as Jimin falls forward to shove the fingers of his other hand into Jungkook’s face, caressing over the Alpha’s cheek before trailing them under his nose.
Jungkook breathes in greedily, jaw dropping open as Jimin pushes his fingertips against his lips, past his teeth, and pressing them against his tongue.
“Come,” Jimin whispers, pulling his hand back, and Jungkook follows as though on a leash, crowding in close, careful not to touch but desperate to feel the heat of Jimin’s skin against his own. It’s driving him mad.
Jimin’s eyes flicker down to Jungkook’s lips, and leans closer to breathe hotly over them. Jungkook is lost, his mind stretched thin in the shrinking space between them, and can only gasp helplessly when he feels Jimin’s fingers wrap around his length.
“This—” Jimin whispers, squeezing gently, “— is mine until my heat has run its course. Understood?” There’s a timbre to his voice, an undercurrent of power, that makes Jungkook shudder, his wolf keening low in the back of his throat. He nods.
“Touch me.”
He does, running his hands along the glorious expanse of Jimin’s skin, tracing the curves of his body with his teeth and his tongue. He settles himself between Jimin’s legs when he tells him to, hooking the Omega’s knees over his shoulders as he bows his head to press the flat of his tongue directly against Jimin’s hole. His chest rumbles with pleasure hearing the Omega’s cries as he devours him, licking him open, pressing his speared tongue deep, stretching. One finger, then two, and finally three, and Jimin is writhing below him.
“Now, fuck me now,” The Omega orders, his head thrown back, his eyes hazy with need.
Jungkook grips Jimin’s hips, lifting them as he rises to his knees, pulling Jimin towards him roughly. The Omega snarls with impatience, tilting his hips and pressing them down as Jungkook lines himself up with Jimin’s slick-soaked entrance. They hiss through their teeth in unison as the tip of Jungkook’s cock slips through the tight ring of muscle, and he fights the urge to slam his pelvis forward, to drive himself to the hilt.
Jimin pushes himself up off the mattress onto his elbows, gripping the sheets tightly to leverage himself as he thrusts his hips down, making Jungkook bite back a startled cry as he’s enveloped by wet heat, his vision blurring at the intensity of the sensation.
“Move!” Jimin barks, and Jungkook can only obey, his fingers digging into the flesh of Jimin’s waist as he thrusts, panting.
The pace is brutal, and they fuck their way up the mattress until Jimin is folded up against the headboard, their gazes locked, mouths open and panting as they each chase their release.
“Ngh, m’close,” Jungkook growls, pace faltering.
“Not yet, not yet,” Jimin whimpers, sliding a hand between them to fist over his cock. “Need more, give me more.”
Jungkook groans, leaning back, pulling Jimin close by his thighs as he changes the angle of his attack, driving himself deeper. Jimin lets out a strangled scream, his free hand twisting in the sheets at his side as the beginnings of Jungkook’s knot stretches him wider.
“I can’t, I can’t—”
“I’m cumming, oh gods—”
Jungkook’s knot flares to capacity, locking them together as he erupts with a grunt, his eyes watering at the intensity of the orgasm. He shudders as he feels Jimin’s walls clamp around him like a vice, milking him dry as Jimin falls over the edge, rope after rope of his own cum painting his torso and chest.
Jimin is silent as he rides the waves of his pleasure, eyes closed, and Jungkook can’t help but stare. His mind is a buzzing blank, the aftershock of his release leaving him feeling too empty, too raw. This is unlike any rut he’s experienced, and his wolf is no help, unsure of how to navigate the emotions that boil to the surface. He hiccups a sudden sob, turning away quickly when Jimin’s eyes shoot open.
“Alpha,” the tone is as soft as it is demanding, and Jungkook lets himself melt into Jimin’s arms. “My good Alpha, I’m so full.” The words are a balm, soothing Jungkook’s wolf into satiety. Jimin pulls himself up, wrapping his arms tightly around Jungkook’s neck, pressing their bodies together, cum cool and slick against their skin, and gently nips at the side of the Alpha’s neck.
“Fuck me again.”
Jungkook whines. “Knot—”
Jimin swivels his hips and fresh hot tears prick at Jungkook’s eyes at the overstimulation. “Fuck. Me. Again.”
Jungkook sits back on his heels, pulling Jimin up into his lap, humping upwards while pushing Jimin down, his abs burning. It takes the better part of half an hour for Jungkook’s knot to deflate enough to slip past Jimin’s rim, making Jimin cry out in relief as he bounces with renewed vigor.
Jungkook is a trembling mess, tears clinging to his lashes when Jimin snakes his fingers through his hair, pulling his head towards the junction of his neck and shoulder, towards his scent gland. “Open your mouth.”
Jungkook does as he’s told, jaw slackening as Jimin’s scent, a heavy and tangible wave, pools in his mouth. He feels drunk with it, instinctively extending his tongue to taste, to take in more, to fall even deeper, when Jimin pushes his face away. “Greedy, Alpha.”
Jimin’s wolf is cruel, but Jungkook’s wolf likes it, wants more.
The night bleeds into morning, and Jungkook can finally feel his mind clearing as the first rays of the rising sun shine through his window. He breathes in deeply, taking stock of his body, all of its aches and pains, its hunger and thirst, before his wolf snaps at his consciousness, bringing his attention to the Omega tucked tightly into his side.
Jimin is sleeping soundly, his head resting on Jungkook’s bicep, his face still flushed with Heat.
How many times had they’d fucked? How many times had they come apart together, orgasms dry and white hot, their chests heaving in unison?
He grimaces as a weak ripple of arousal tickles its way towards his groin. Gods below, how was that even possible? He bites into his lower lip and shifts his focus to trying to extricate his arm from under Jimin’s head without waking the Omega up. To his shock, he succeeds, even managing to slip his pillow under Jimin’s head before slipping off the bed to pad as quietly as possible across the room to the door.
He swipes his phone from the charging pad on his dresser as he passes, making his way to the kitchen to get a couple bottles of water from the fridge. He leans against the counter, twisting the cap from one of the bottles before draining half the bottle in one go. He thumbs the lock button on his phone and checks the time only briefly before opening his messages.
TH: Hey buddy! Wanna hang out after work tonight?
4:37pm
TH: Did you lose your charger again?
8:22pm
TH: Didn’t want to hang out with you anyways. Loser.
10:48pm
TH: I didn’t mean that xoxo
10:49pm
TH: Dude are you okay?
9:11am
*Missed call from: Taehyung*
TH: Are you mad at me?
12:14pm
TH: Do I need to call the cops?
3:01pm
TH: I mean, it hasn’t been 48 hours yet… so…
3:07pm
TH: Bitch did you die??????
9:19pm
TH: Jungkook, I’m coming over, you’re scaring me
10:55am
TH: Okay so I put my ear to your door and heard the most VILE noises coming from your place so you’re either getting some grade A ass or you’re being ritualistically killed by a cult so good for you either way, call me when you’re done
12:33pm
TH: or RIP I guess
12:33pm
TH: I called your boss for you btw. I’ll accept beer and fried chicken takeout as thanks!
1:10pm
Jungkook checks the time on his phone again and gapes— it’s been 3 fucking days.
“Shit!” he hisses, putting the water bottle down and opening a message to his boss to apologize for his sudden leave. He texts Taehyung back after.
JK: Hey, sorry about that
7:17am
TH: HE LIVES!
7:17am
JK: Barely. My dick is hanging on by a thread
7:18am
TH: no fucking doubt. Who’s the omega who managed to set you off early? Do I know them?
7:19am
JK: I’ll tell you later, I don’t think we’re done yet
7:19am
TH: RIP 2: electric boogaloo
7:20am
Jungkook locks his screen and taps his phone against his palm, unsure of how to even begin telling his best friend about how his roommate, to everyone outside of these walls a Beta, was secretly an Omega, and how he’d royally fucked up by triggering his heat— which, in turn, had triggered his own rut. He cocks his head to one side with a frown, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling in consideration.
“I don’t have to tell anyone anything. He thinks it’s just my rut. Easy,” he mumbles to himself, pulling his lower lip through his teeth. He shouldn’t out Jimin if he was hiding his real sub-gender. “He’ll figure out that I fucked Jimin, though, so…” So he’d have to convince his best friend that he actually was attracted to other sub-genders than Omegas, no big deal. Except—
Somewhere deep in his mind, a reel of memory shows how he’d stared a little too long at Jimin’s ass over the months they’d lived together, how he’d subconsciously sniffed the air as he’d passed him countless times in their shared spaces, hoping against hope for a scent, how he’d developed an attraction.
Okay, so none of this was new— not really. His wolf had understood that something about Jimin was different, was special, though it had been unsure as to why. No wonder Jungkook had been oblivious to his own attraction to the other wolf for all this time.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, putting his phone aside and grabbing a couple more water bottles from the fridge. He wasn’t in the right headspace to consider his sexuality right now, and what he’d considered already was giving him a headache. He pauses with the fridge door open, scanning for snacks, before grabbing some string cheese and pepperoni from Jimin’s drawer, then grabbing some fruit leather from his own drawer.
But even with the revelation that Jimin was an Omega, neither Jungkook nor his wolf would have ever been able to guess that he was a dominant Omega. No wonder he’d hidden his sub-gender— dominants were rare to begin with, rarer still among Omegas. Now that was something that he and Jimin would have to discuss between themselves, once their cycles had settled.
“Jungkook?” A quiet call comes from his room, sounding confused, and his wolf perks up immediately.
“Coming!” He scoops everything into his arms, leaving his phone behind, and trots back down the hallway, wanting nothing more than to make sure that his Omega was fed, properly hydrated, and scented to within an inch of his life.
The image of Jimin sitting up in his bed, blinking sleepily at him, haloed by light from the window, sends a stab of feeling through Jungkook’s chest.
His Omega.
“Mine.” His wolf says the word before he’s able to process the thought, and a primal sensation of pride floods his system in its wake.
Jimin reaches for him, fingers splayed wide, a smile curving the corners of his lips. “Mhmm, and that means you’re mine, Alpha.”