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“Hoseok’s been gone for a long time, huh?” Namjoon ponders, glancing at Yoongi from the corner of his eyes.
“Yeah,” Yoongi grunts out before going back to the same three music notes on the screen that he’s been staring at for the past hour. For a second, Namjoon wonders if he should call Yoongi out on it, and ask him why he’s pretending to work on music when he’s clearly too distracted. By Hoseok’s absence. Namjoon is willing to bet money on it.
With a heavy sigh, Namjoon decides to leave Yoongi to his own devices. He flips open his phone and frowns at the time. It’s been several hours since Hoseok’s been gone and he’s starting to get concerned. He turns back towards Yoongi, swallowing harshly when he notices the thick vein on Yoongi’s forehead and the thin set of his lips. All the while, he continues to glare at his screen, as if it’s personally offended him.
Namjoon’s about to suggest that they get out of the studio and go look for Hoseok when there’s a sudden knock on the door. Yoongi whips his head around so fast that Namjoon is surprised it doesn’t give him whiplash.
“Can I come in?” Hoseok’s voice is soft, barely audible through the noisy intercom of their studio. But even then, it’s easy to discern that something isn’t quite right.
“Yeah.” Yoongi’s voice is sharp and urgent, his eyes flickering with anxiety. Namjoon feels much the same way himself. An odd sense of uneasiness. Some kind of premonition that he prays is misplaced.
Hoseok opens the door and walks in. He’s in a loose black t-shirt with a neon graphic of some death metal band that he’s probably not even into, and ratty shorts, littered with discoloured patches from use. He drags his feet, head lowered, chewing into his lower lip, before taking a seat at the edge of the couch.
Namjoon and Yoongi jump to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to get to Hoseok. Namjoon takes a seat beside Hoseok, while Yoongi crouches down in front of him, looking up in concern.
“What’s wrong, Hob-ah?” Yoongi’s voice is low and gruff. He gently cups Hoseok’s face with one hand, rubbing at his cheekbones. “Is everything okay? Talk to us.”
Hoseok opens his mouth, only to make a small aborted noise. Before he clenches his eyes shut and whimpers, closing his own hand over Yoongi’s and pressing his face into his palm. Namjoon feels awkward sitting beside the two of them, raising his hands and lowering them once he’s confused about what to do with them. On the other hand, Yoongi doesn’t look confused at all. He looks determined as hell, eyes burning with a fire that intimidates the shit out of Namjoon. Heck, Yoongi looks ready to fight everyone and everything. It’s almost ridiculous, considering they have no idea what’s even going on.
“They asked me to get off my suppressants.”
It’s almost comical the way Yoongi deflates at Hoseok's words, his eyes going wide with surprise, his shoulders slumping, lips parting in an ‘ o’ . “They–” Yoongi mutters. “They did what ?”
“They asked me to stop using heat suppressants,” Hoseok repeats with a heavy sigh. His eyes are still lowered and there’s a soft blush on his cheek. He’s embarrassed to be talking about this– this part of him that’s soft, vulnerable omega– this part of him that they’ve all collectively chosen to ignore.
Especially Yoongi.
“Oh,” Yoongi says dumbly. He turns towards Namjoon, panic evident in his eyes. He makes a weird motion with his head, like he’s begging Namjoon to say something in his stead. What is Namjoon even supposed to say? He too is a dumb alpha just like Yoongi. And he too is at a loss of words.
Yoongi’s glaring now, telepathically communicating something along the lines of “You’re the leader. This is your job so do something!” Namjoon has half a mind to retort that Yoongi should be the one doing something because he’s the hyung and besides–
Yoongi’s the one harbouring a gigantic crush on Hoseok.
“Suppressants?” Namjoon wheezes out, cringing when Yoongi shoots him another death glare. Well, what is he supposed to do? It’s Yoongi’s fault for pushing him to say something in the first place.
“Yeah,” Hoseok replies, eyes swimming with worry. “You know how I’ve been taking suppressants since I got here, right? So I don’t accidentally go into heat during our training workshops or anything. Besides, most of the trainees are alphas so I had to be extra careful, you know?”
“Yeah, of course,” Namjoon squeaks out. He doesn’t even need to look at Yoongi this time to know that he’s glaring at him again. He can feel the heat of his gaze. Very uncalled for, in Namjoon’s opinion. “So uh, why do you have to get off it, Hoseok-ah?”
“Well uh–” Hoseok chuckles, rubbing the nape of his neck, his blush getting darker, a pretty contrasting pink peeking through the gaps between Yoongi’s pale fingers that still hold his cheeks. “I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately.” Yoongi frowns, his jaw clenching dangerously. Hoseok clears his throat. “I didn’t pay it much thought but then, I– I had a little incident at dance practice the other day. And I kinda fainted–”
“Hob-ah, what the fuck–?!” Yoongi’s voice lowers to dangerous levels and he applies pressure on his hands, tilting Hoseok’s face upwards. “What do you mean you fucking fainted? What’s going on? When was this? Are you okay now? Why didn’t you–” Yoongi’s voice breaks and he sucks in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Namjoon wants to leave the fucking room right this instant. He feels like a third wheel– a thirtieth wheel. He’s still concerned for Hoseok, sure, but Yoongi’s starting to emit a protective scent and it’s making him feel even more on edge.
“I’m fine, hyung! Geez!” Hoseok smacks Yoongi’s hands off, before swiping his hair off his face. His blush is so intense right now, it’s almost concerning. “This is precisely why we didn’t tell you. You always overreact about these things.”
“I do not,” Yoongi murmurs, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Hold on–” He pauses, before lifting his head up. “What do you mean ‘we’? You told Namjoon? You told Namjoon but not me? ” And then, he’s turning back to Namjoon, once again fixing him with his murderous glare. Namjoon should let his friends and family know that if anything happens to him sometime soon, Yoongi’s probably the one to blame.
“You knew?” Yoongi hisses through his teeth. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”
“Hyung, I swear to god, that is beside the point!” Namjoon rolls his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Hoseok was trying to tell us something, for god’s sake. Let him finish.”
That shuts Yoongi up and he turns back to a very annoyed looking Hoseok. “Sorry, Hob-ah,” Yoongi murmurs apologetically. Hoseok nods, accepting his apology.
“So anyway,” Hoseok continues. “When I told them I haven’t been feeling that great, they asked me to do some tests… and the results just came in and…” Hoseok takes a deep inhale. Namjoon mimics him, suddenly feeling his heart in his throat. A dozen worst case scenarios start to swim in his head and he prays that whatever Hoseok is going to tell them will be something trivial– like dehydration or anaemia or–
“I’m having heat withdrawal,” Hoseok chokes out.
A soft gasp resounds in their noise-proof studio, bouncing off the walls before settling heavy in the atmosphere, a hollow noise. For a second, Namjoon thinks it’s Yoongi, but then he realises the sound came from himself.
“Apparently, it’s not that healthy to suppress a heat cycle quite so often,” Hoseok continues, his voice high pitched. “And I skipped far too many cycles and it started building up until–” Hoseok waves his hands in the air, faking a laugh. “– this happened.”
“Oh.” This time, it really is Yoongi. But Namjoon’s feeling pretty “oh” himself. “You’re having…” Yoongi clears his throat, his left eye blinking concerningly fast. “You’re suffering from heat withdrawal?”
Namjoon has half a mind to reach over and rub Yoongi’s back. He looks like he’s going through it at the moment. And Namjoon’s in the same boat; he has no clue how to react to Hoseok’s news either. It’s not that Hoseok is the only omega trainee at their company. There are a few others, some living in the same dorm as the three of them too. But while the others are all mated and take a week off every other month to spend their heat cycles with their mates, Hoseok is still unmated. For the duration of time since he’s been in the dorm, he’s also been taking heat suppressants. That’s a little over a year without going into heat.
Now, Namjoon and Yoongi, being alphas, can not possibly relate to whatever’s going on with Hoseok. Not when alphas only go into rut once a year and ruts aren’t even half as taxing on their bodies as it is for omegas in heat. In fact, one could say ruts are even more strenuous on participating omegas. Not that Namjoon– or Yoongi, for that matter– has shared their rut with an omega before. They usually book a hotel room for the week and masturbate it out.
It’s easy for alphas. But it’s not like that for omegas. Not when an omega’s heat cannot be broken without being pumped with an alpha’s knot. Namjoon wonders who Hoseok spent his previous heats with. Or did he use suppressants back then as well? An ache settles in Namjoon’s chest at the thought of Hoseok having to put his body’s needs to the side, for the sake of becoming a trainee–for a dream of fame that is not guaranteed to come through.
“Yeah,” Hoseok whispers, finally answering Yoongi’s question. The air in the room is tense and sizzling. Hoseok has his shoulders slumped, hands in his lap, head hanging low. He looks small, vulnerable. Namjoon would give anything to make him feel better.
“What are you gonna do?” Yoongi chirps up. He’s frowning, the vein on his forehead bulging ominously. “What did they ask you to do, Hoseok-ah?”
“There’s nothing else I can do, hyung,” Hoseok sighs, looking up and meeting Yoongi’s eyes. And then, he sighs, eyes clenched shut. “They told me to get off suppressants for a few cycles at least, and let my heat have its natural course.”
Namjoon gulps, starting to piece everything together, feeling dumb for having taken so long, especially considering how his iq is. “Hold on,” he squeaks out. “Does that mean you’re gonna have your heat this month?”
Hoseok nods his head. “Yeah,” he replies with a heavy sigh. “My pre-heat should start this weekend actually.”
“How–” Namjoon clears his throat, shocked at how dry it suddenly feels. “How are you gonna do that, Hobi?”
Hoseok gives Namjoon a confused look, before averting his eyes. A fierce blush paints his cheeks, red and pretty. He chews into his lower lip before mumbling out, “What do you mean? I’m gonna have to go into heat, that’s what–”
“Who’s going to help you out?” Yoongi’s voice is sharp, icy cold. Namjoon feels a chill run down his spine, the unsettling feeling only magnifying when he catches Yoongi’s steely gaze and the way it’s locked onto Hoseok, intense and merciless.
Pin drop silence. Hoseok continues to look down, as if fascinated by the floor, his cheeks still flushed red. Yoongi’s staring at Hoseok as if he’s the only person– the only thing– in the room, face expressionless, eyes glittering with something dark and sinister. All the while, Namjoon alternates his gaze between the two of them, nerves on edge, waiting for someone to break the silence.
“Hob-ah,” Yoongi drawls Hoseok’s name, startling both Namjoon and Hoseok. “Who’s going to help you out?” Yoongi’s voice is lower than Namjoon’s ever heard it, every syllable is laced with barely contained rage. “Who’s going to knot you through your heat, omega?"
Hoseok whimpers at that, a broken sound. His eyes are wide and wet and the blush is spread all the way down to his collarbones, escaping beneath his collar. “Hyung!” Hoseok chokes out, hands clutching at the frayed ends of his shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white. “You can’t just–”
“Answer the fucking question, Hob-ah!” Yoongi snarls, bunching his palms into balls by his side. He’s leaning forward, up into Hoseok’s face, intimidating Hoseok with his aggressive body language. He looks like he’s going to go feral any second.
“Hyung,” Namjoon says, carefully. When Yoongi turns towards him, he raises his eyebrows and gestures in warning. Back down. For a tense second, Yoongi simply glares at Namjoon, something dangerous crackling in the depths of his eyes. It would be an understatement to say that Namjoon is a little terrified of Yoongi at the moment. But fortunately, Yoongi takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping, before he pulls back.
“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers out. He looks up apologetically at Hoseok. “Sorry for overreacting and being a dick, Hob-ah. Especially when you must already be so stressed about all this. You don’t have to tell us anything you’re not comfortable sharing. It’s something so personal– god, I feel like an asshole for pressing you like that.”
“It’s okay, hyung!” Hoseok is quick to respond, leaning forward subconsciously. “The thing is…” Hoseok licks his lips, blushing anew, even darker than before. “... I have no idea who to ask. I can’t go home and ask my ex because–” Hoseok scrunches his nose up, shaking his head in disdain. “– well, ew. So… I don’t know… Maybe, I’ll ask one of the other trainees. But that would be awkward! Fuck it, I think I’ll ask management if they can sign me up for a heat service or something, you know? Book an alpha for hire? Yeah, that’s it.”
“Okay,” Yoongi says, voice low, sounding a little defeated. Panic bubbles in Namjoon’s chest and he has half a mood to reach over and shake Yoongi. Okay? What does Yoongi even mean by “okay” ? Why is he quietly accepting this? Hoseok sounds so on the fence, so desperate. This is perfect timing for Yoongi to swoop in and whisk him right off his feet. This is perfect timing for Yoongi to alpha up and make a fucking move. Anyone with eyes can see the way he looks at Hoseok. And the way Hoseok looks at him too.
“Yeah,” Hoseok nods his head solemnly. He’s smiling, soft and anxious. “I think that would be best.”
No, it’s the absolute worst! What is Hoseok talking about? Namjoon feels so frustrated he wants to rip his goddamn hair out. And Yoongi’s sitting quiet, wallowing in his own misery. God fucking damn it!
“Thanks for listening, you guys.” Hoseok’s soft voice brings Namjoon out of his thoughts, mellowing him down. He reaches out and presses Hoseok’s shoulder, smiling soothingly when Hoseok leans into his touch. Hoseok is chewing into his lower lip, eyes flitting about nervously. “And I’m sorry about all this. I’m sorry if I made you guys stressed too.”
“No Hobi, please–”
“You didn’t. Not at all–”
Namjoon and Yoongi speak at the same time, breaking off. Namjoon laughs, scratching the back of his neck. While Yoongi hums under his breath. Hoseok smiles at them all the while, eyes tender and sweet.
Flickering the slightest amount when they rest on Yoongi.
*******
Namjoon stares at the ceiling fan as it spins around, creaking with use. He’s exhausted, partly from the hours of music production. And partly from the incident with Hoseok. With a prolonged groan, Namjoon swipes his arm across his eyes, pressing down on them as he curls into his side. The scenes from their talk flash behind his eyelids, still vivid. As do Hoseok’s words and Yoongi’s heavy and piercing gaze.
All through Hoseok’s rambling, Namjoon had been watching Yoongi’s face, the way it was expressionless. Cold. Jaw clenched, eyes– unreadable. But Namjoon doesn’t need to read Yoongi’s eyes to know what’s going through his mind. He’s been watching Yoongi and Hoseok since the day Hoseok walked into their dorm and met Yoongi half naked in his boxers. Since the time Hoseok fell asleep on the couch and Yoongi carried him to bed– Namjoon still remembers the vivid sight that met him that morning when he walked in to find the two of them sleeping soundly together in Yoongi’s bed, Yoongi’s arm around Hoseok, tucked under his chin, their legs tangled together.
Out of the blue, Namjoon suddenly recalls one night when Hoseok had gone home on a visit and it was just him and Yoongi. Four cans of beer later and Namjoon had been tipsy and Yoongi had been mellow, at best. They’d talked, as they tend to do sometimes. They’d talked about their dreams, their ambitions. About making it, becoming big names in the industry, making their families proud. Building a life for themselves, a legacy of music.
“You and me and Hobi,” Namjoon slurs, taking another sip only to lose his hold and have the beer spill all over his face. “We’re gonna be superstars. Mark my words. We’re gonna make a ton of money in the world. Buy all of the things we don’t even need.”
Yoongi laughs, deep and rumbling, before chugging down a few sips. “Big car, big house, big rings,” he’d said with a chuckle.
“Gonna get a Lamborghini. Or two! And build a big fucking mansion, get all the omega hoes–” Namjoon groans, rubbing his palm down his face. “God fucking damn it, I miss having sex. Gonna fuck so many pretty omegas once we’re rich. No more ruts with my fist, I can finally fuck a nice tight pussy.” He’d turned towards Yoongi, taking note of the wistful look on his face. “Hyung, what’re you thinking of?” He grins, “What kinda omega do you wanna fuck?”
Yoongi grunts, swiping his sweaty hair off his forehead. “Um, I don’t have anything particular in mind…”
“Oho?” Namjoon slurs, crossing his arms across the table and playing with his beer can. He looks across the rim, eying Yoongi with a knowing smirk. “You sure, hyung? I think you’d like an omega who’s–” Namjoon looks up with a pout, pretending to be deep in thought. “– lean with a dancer’s body, slightly taller than you, heart shaped smile with a little mole on top and tiny dimples at the corners of his mouth–”
“Huh–”
“– ears that fold when he wears a beanie, round cheeks like a squirrels–”
“Namjoon, what are you implying?” Yoongi growls, brows screwed together, eyes flickering angrily. “Stop that.”
“Stop what, hyung?” Namjoon is just drunk enough to ignore the message, just drunk enough to prod Yoongi the way he would never dare to if he were sobre. “I’m sorry, did that remind you of someone, perhaps? Someone you’re familiar with?”
“Joon, it’s not like that–”
“Someone you’re always eye fucking every time he turns around–”
“I do not eye fuck him when he turns around. Jesus, does it look like I do? Did Hoseok mention something to you?”
“Hyung, you’re ridiculous!” Namjoon slaps his thigh hard, throwing his head back and guffawing obnoxiously. “You’re so fucking whipped for him, it’s nuts.” He wipes a fake tear from under his eyes, grinning as he takes in a scowling Yoongi. “And don’t worry, I was joking. Hobi’s bloody thick headed when it comes to such things. Rest assured, he probably has no clue that you want to smash him. Do you think of him when you fist your knot?”
“Joon, shut the fuck up.” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands down his face and mumbling curses under his breath. Namjoon laughs, the mood around them settling into something easy and comfortable. With a deep sigh, Yoongi lifts his head up, lids lowered, cheeks flushed a faint pink. “I uh– It’s a secret, alright? You better not go and snitch on me.”
Namjoon startles, a little surprised that Yoongi would admit to his feelings so easily. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but Yoongi looks soft, wistful, his eyes brimming with something that looks a lot like hope.
“Hyung?” Namjoon whispers, sobering up a bit now that he’s faced with the gravity of it all. “Hyung, you should tell him. Not that part where you masturbate to him.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at that, mouthing a “you think?”. Namjoon chuckles, before continuing, “Ya know, from what I gather, he probably likes you too.”
“Not right now,” Yoongi mumbles, grabbing a fresh can and popping it open. He brings it to his lips and starts chugging it down so fast that Namjoon’s surprised he doesn’t start sputtering. After what feels like several minutes of constant chugging, Yoongi finally pulls back with a loud smack of his lips and a sigh of satisfaction. He turns towards Namjoon and smiles, a little melancholy.
“I’ll tell him someday,” Yoongi says. “Someday for sure.”
It’s been around a year since then and Yoongi still hasn’t done shit.
Now they’ve reached the point where Hoseok is going to some random alpha bloke to fuck him through his heat. Someone he might seek regularly. Someone he might get fond of and want to mate. Which leaves Yoongi where exactly? That would leave Yoongi alone with a broken heart. To be fair, it would be Yoongi’s own fault for being such a coward.
But the more Namjoon ponders over it, the more uneasy he becomes. He doesn’t want that for Yoongi. Or for Hoseok either. He’s positive Hoseok has feelings for Yoongi too. But he doubts Hoseok is even aware of it himself.
And then, there’s the possibility that whoever shares Hoseok’s heat with him doesn’t turn out to be good for him. It chills Namjoon down to his marrows just thinking about Hoseok being with some asshole. Namjoon turns to his side, burying his head in the pillow and groaning into the felt surface.
Fuck it. Namjoon’s going to have to fix things.
*******
“Fucking asshole, watch where you’re going.” The man yells after the two of them. Namjoon turns and bows in apology but Yoongi doesn’t spare him a second glance. It’s Friday night and he’s in a bad mood.
“Hyung, slow down,” Namjoon says, jogging to keep up with him. “You’re bumping into people. Come on! Stop being a dick.”
Yoongi huffs under his breath, not giving a flying fuck about whether he’s being an asshole or not. He’s got other things on his mind. Like Hoseok. And how Hoseok is already in pre-heat, having been escorted to one of the spare heat incubators in the company building. Apparently, they’re going to call in an alpha heat facilitator for him since he doesn’t have a mate. Or a friend who’d be willing to help him out. Yoongi scoffs under his breath. He wouldn’t mind helping out. But it’s not like he’s brave enough to make an offer. And it’s not like Hoseok is going to request him in the first place.
Grunting under his breath, he kicks an empty can into the curb, scoffing when Namjoon gets startled. They continue their walk towards the grocery store, braving the cold winter breeze. Yoongi shivers, begrudgingly thinking about how warm Hoseok would be at this moment, like a human toaster, all soft and slick around him– Yoongi shudders at the sudden image that pops up behind his eyelids, wetting his dry lips before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It’s futile, Yoongi tries to tell himself. Hoseok is going to warm up someone else’s bed tonight.
“Hyung, where are you going?” Namjoon tugs at Yoongi’s sleeve, forcing him to turn around and glare at him. “The store’s right here.”
Yoongi mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath before trudging ahead, past the glass door and into the air-conditioned store. He tugs his jacket closer, willing the cold away, trying his damnedest not to let his thoughts wander.
“What are we even here for?” Yoongi asks, absentmindedly grabbing a carton of cereal as he watches Namjoon walk up behind him. He’s looking around awkwardly, searching for god knows what. You’d think that after coming to the same store every day for a year, he’d know what each of the aisles is for. But apparently, all that IQ is for show.
“Tryna find the section for ice cream,” Namjoon mutters, walking across to the end of the aisle. Yoongi raises his eyes in exasperation, walking up to him and thwacking him on the back of the head.
“You moron,” Yoongi mutters, tugging him by the collar all the way across the room, towards the line of freezers. “They don’t keep ice cream in any of the fucking aisles. It’s going to fucking melt, jesus.”
Namjoon laughs in embarrassment, rubbing his hands together in apology before scuttling towards one of the big freezers and throwing the door open. For a minute, he’s parting through different products, pushing them to the side before reaching the row of items hidden behind. When he finally finds what he’s looking for, he whistles in victory, pumping his fist in the air, before slamming the door closed. “Aha!”
Yoongi lifts a brow, eyeing the green box in Namjoon’s hand. “Mint chocolate? Since when do you like mint chocolate, Joon-ah?”
“I don’t.” Namjoon hums, making his way toward the counter.
There’s a long queue. Great, they’re going to be here for a while then. Yoongi clicks his tongue in annoyance. The lady in front of them is listening to some obnoxiously loud music, her headphones hanging loose and blasting the noise out loud. There’s a kid crying somewhere inside the store. Everything’s getting on Yoongi’s nerve, winding him up until he’s about to fucking burst.
It’s not like Yoongi would be this bothered on a different day, under different circumstances. But now, he’s got something else on his mind. Someone else– Hoseok. Fucking Hoseok. Not being able to fuck Hoseok–
“Why’re you getting it then?” Yoongi asks, voice cracking as he struggles to keep his composure, to focus on the moment, on Namjoon. And not go back to Hoseok. No, just distract yourself, Yoongi. Look at the condensation on the hideous green ice cream, count every drop on the surface. Don’t think about how it’s Hoseok’s favourite ice cream flavour–
“‘Cause it’s Hoseok’s favourite flavour,” Namjoon replies. He’s not meeting Yoongi’s gaze, instead scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he hasn’t thrown Yoongi in for a loop.
“Huh?” Yoongi grunts out, lips parting in surprise. “You’re getting it for Hoseok?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon says, finally meeting Yoongi’s gaze. There’s a sharp glint in his eyes, one that catches Yoongi off guard. What’s going on? “It’s a courting gift,” Namjoon continues. Yoongi’s eyes bulge out, trying to comprehend everything Namjoon’s saying. Nothing makes any sense. A courting gift? For who?
“It’s a courting gift for Hoseok. I’m going to ask him to spend his heat with me.”
Yoongi freezes in place, a shudder wracking through his frame and knocking the wind out of his lungs. What–
“I talked to management this afternoon… before we left,” Namjoon mutters, looking back down at his hands. “The more I thought about Hoseok sharing his heat with some stranger, in some kinda business contract, the more I came to the conclusion that he would feel more comfortable sharing it with someone he trusts. Someone like me.” Namjoon looks back up, scratching his nape, smiling sheepishly. Yoongi has half a mind to smack the lights out of him. Fucking bastard–
“Hoseok deserves to enjoy a nice heat cycle this time around,” Namjoon continues, sighing wistfully. As if he’s imagining Hoseok sprawled out before him, spreading his legs apart as Namjoon settles between them and plunges right in– Yoongi wants to fucking die just imagining the two of them together. It’s almost nauseating– soul-crushing. Somehow worse than Hoseok using a service alpha.
“It’s a secret, by the way. For now, at least. Hoseok doesn’t know I volunteered to do this. I wanted to surprise him.” Namjoon’s giggling now, a sweet sound. But Yoongi wants the ground to swallow him up. He’d rather be anywhere but here; he’d rather be doing anything but listen to Namjoon talk about how he’s going to knot Hoseok when they get back– oh god.
The clicking of the bar code scanner echoes in Yoongi’s ears, drowning out everything else. But not drowning out enough. Not drowning out Namjoon’s words. Not at all. Namjoon’s still droning on about things that Yoongi is sure will play out in his dreams. Among other things.
“It’s a win-win for both of us, you know?” Namjoon says, moving forward as the queue starts to empty out. “If we click, we could pursue a relationship, maybe become mates. That would be really convenient, right hyung? And if we don’t, oh well! At least, we got one good night out of it– well, a week of it, to be precise.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi grinds out, balling his fists and shoving them into the pockets of his pants. “That sounds great, Namjoon. Good thing you offered, I guess.”
“Of course, I would offer, hyung.” Namjoon’s smiling again, those bloody dimples popping out and making Yoongi want to slap right at them. “I’m the only one who can help him, after all. Who else knows Hoseok like I do? We’ve been living together for so long and I know him like the back of my hand. So my hands will know what to do with him. Get it?”
And then, Namjoon’s laughing at his own bad joke. A wheezing sound that makes Yoongi want to break down and cry. Who else? Who else? Yoongi, that’s who else. Yoongi met Hoseok first. Yoongi and Hoseok don’t need to click; they already have. They’ve already skipped past a dozen steps. They’re already halfway there. And Yoongi knows that if he helps Hoseok with his heat, it’s going to change things between them the way he’s always wanted. The way he sometimes dreams about with his hands under his pants, knot popping against his fist as he imagines it’s someone else– as he imagines Hoseok.
“Alright sir, your bill will be three thousand won. Will you be paying with cash or by card?”
Yoongi blinks, trying to clear his vision, crashing back down to his reality. Which is Namjoon purchasing a fucking courting gift for Hoseok. Before he gets to fuck him. And then mate him. And then marry him. And have him for life. Yoongi lost his shot; it’s over for him now. There’s no hope; how fucking ironic.
“Damn it, I forgot to buy condoms.” Namjoon groans. They’re on the bus, halfway back to the dorm. He turns towards Yoongi and frowns. “Do you think Hoseok will let me fuck him raw?”
Yoongi wants to jump out of the fucking bus. If he has to listen to Namjoon talk for another hour about screwing Hoseok, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Namjoon says, sighing dramatically. He’s smiling at Yoongi, blissfully unaware of how much Yoongi wants to strangle him right this instant. “I hope he has pills. If he doesn’t, I’ll just ask management to get us some tomorrow.”
Yoongi turns to look out the window, squinting when the corners of his eyes start to sting. God fucking damn it, he’s not going to cry. He chose this path so he’s going to have to walk it, chin up and everything. But he can’t lie. It hurts– it fucking hurts. It’s tearing him up inside just thinking about it. Oh god, Namjoon really is going to help Hoseok out with his heat. What is Yoongi going to do if they end up becoming mates? He can not bear the thought.
They get down at the stop and walk towards the company building. Namjoon is humming a song under his breath, out of tune but mirthful. Like he’s having the best day of his life. All while Yoongi trudges behind him, gathering his jacket close to protect himself from the cold. He shivers, clenching his eyes shut and willing himself to carry on.
The elevator takes forever to get to their floor, the ding sound setting off immense relief in Yoongi, as he walks out of the metal box. Towards the dorm room. Namjoon tags along, humming as he waits for Yoongi to unlock the door and kick it open.
Yoongi grunts as he peels his jacket off, throwing it haphazardly across his bed. He takes a seat, peeling his socks off and kicking them under the bed. Namjoon’s watching him judging. But he doesn’t give a fuck.
A sudden buzz starts ringing and Yoongi looks towards Namjoon. He grabs his phone, lips curling into an “oh” shape before nodding solemnly. “Alright then,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “That was management. Apparently, Hoseok’s preheat got more intense and he contacted them asking for an alpha.” Namjoon rises to his feet with a huff. “Alright then, that’s my cue. Gonna get going now.”
Waving goodbye and giving a suggestive wink, Namjoon walks out of the room. Leaving Yoongi behind to wallow in his misery. He groans, pressing his palms against his eyes and rubbing aggressively. Fuck. He feels absolutely shattered, his heart bleeding into a chasm in his chest. Fuck fuck fuck.
Yoongi breathes shakily, blinking to dispel the tears that suddenly spring up in his eyes. He gets up, ready to take a shower, hoping that will ease his spirits at least a little bit. Yoongi stretches his arms, about to grab a glass of water when he spots the polythene bag on the dining table. A small green tub is visible through the thin film. It’s the ice cream! Yoongi rolls his eyes. Of course, Namjoon would forget the fucking ice cream. Of course, he would.
Yoongi freezes for a minute. That’s Namjoon’s so-called courting gift. He left it at the dorm– what a ridiculously Namjoon thing to do. Yoongi grumbles under his breath, slowly walking towards the table and grabbing the plastic bag by the handle. He frowns at the offensive ice cream tub, scrunching his nose as his palette suddenly remembers the taste– disgusting. It’s probably melted into slush too.
But it’s Namjoon’s courting gift, after all. He made the both of them waste so much time in the store just to get this silly little tub. The least Yoongi can do is bring it up to him. Yeah. He’s just going to take it to Hoseok’s room and leave it at the door. Yeah. Hoseok deserves a courting gift, after all. Yeah.
Yoongi grabs the bag and walks out, taking the elevator to Hoseok’s floor. The floors pass one by one, the overhead light flickering in quick succession. It feels like forever before he finally arrives at Hoseok’s floor. Yoongi inhales shakily, sprinting out the moment the doors open. He’s never been here before. The entire floor is dedicated to heat incubators— a space reserved purely for mated couples. And now Hoseok. And Namjoon.
Yoongi grunts under his breath, shaking his head and trying to dispel the thought of Namjoon being in the room with Hoseok, possibly even scenting him— god, it brings bile up Yoongi’s throat just imagining it. He gulps, trying to figure out where to go. He vaguely recalls that Hoseok is in room number 7. Looking around him, he takes note of room numbers 15, 14, 13... Yoongi mutters the numbers under his breath, going along the corridor and turning around the corner, following the trail towards his destination.
10, 9, 8… Yoongi pauses abruptly, heart jumping against his ribcage, pounding at a mad rhythm. He gulps, chewing into his lower lip and curling his fingers around the polythene bag in his hand. He feels rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do next. He should just hang the bag on the doorknob, knock on the door and then take his leave. Maybe even send Namjoon a message so he doesn’t get confused. That’s what he should do. Yeah, definitely.
Besides, there’s no way he wants to be subjected to whatever’s going on inside right now. Between Hoseok and Namjoon. They’re probably scenting each other, experimenting to see if they’re a good match. They probably are, Yoongi supposes. Namjoon sometimes talks about how nice Hoseok always smells, after all. And Hoseok giggles all silly when Namjoon speaks in english or shares a bizarre fact. Yeah, they get along great. They’d make a good couple. Might become mates someday, who knows?
But then, where does that leave Yoongi? Where does that leave Yoongi in all of this? Standing at Hoseok’s door, imagining the most vivid images of his two friends in compromising positions, Yoongi finally accepts the truth that’s been glaringly obvious all this time. Yoongi swallows his spit, closing his eyes before resting his forehead against the wooden door.
Fuck, he wants to be the one in there with Hoseok.
Yoongi’s throat clogs up with the weight of his emotions, his eyes stinging even behind their lids. Fuck fuck fuck. He screwed up. He should’ve been more honest. To himself, first and foremost. And then to Hoseok and Namjoon even. Of fucking course, no one’s going to know that he’s here, having an emotional breakdown at Hoseok’s door, crying over spilt milk when he never even told anyone he wanted the milk in the first place. That he’s been eyeing that milk for well over a year. God fucking damn it. Yoongi hisses through his teeth, clenching his eyes so tight that he sees little stars at the corners. He shakes his head, grinding his forehead into the wood. Fuck fuck fuck–
A loud sob reverberates through the surface of the wooden door, making Yoongi freeze in place. He holds his breath, eyes flicking open, lips parting in confusion. A few moments of silence have him lowering his guard, wondering if he imagined the sound. But then it repeats, this time louder and more prolonged, rippling through Yoongi’s eardrums. It’s muffled and warped but Yoongi would recognise that voice anywhere.
“Hob-ah?” Yoongi whispers, chest squeezing so tight he’s afraid it might collapse on itself. “Hob-ah, are you okay?”
There’s no reply. Frowning, Yoongi presses his ear against the door and squints, trying to listen in. His eyes bulge when he hears muffled whimpers, small and choked. Without even a second thought, Yoongi grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open, ears ringing as he rushes into the room in a panic.
There are a million images rushing through Yoongi’s head, down to the worst case scenario of what could be going on inside. But nothing prepares him for the punch of vanilla that hits him full force the moment he steps into the room. It’s sweet and intense, laced with a note of distress. But before Yoongi can even fully inhale the scent and wrap his nostrils around the nature of it, his eyes land on Hoseok. He drops the damned plastic back, reeling back as his entire world falls off its axis.
Hoseok is sprawled out across the large bed in the centre of the room. He’s naked for as much as Yoongi can see. Golden skin laid out for Yoongi’s hungry eyes to feast on. There’s an ivory sheet strewn across his hips, like a ribbon between his legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s laying stomach down, rutting against a pillow. There’s no rhythm to his movement, unlike his dance. It’s messy and he seems desperate to get off. Little moans and whimpers spill from his lips ever so often, as he rubs himself against the pillow, rutting back and forth and shuddering when it rubs him right.
Yoongi’s jaw hangs open, saliva pooling in his mouth as he takes in the glorious scene. He’s had numerous wet dreams about Hoseok. But none of them holds a match to the real deal. No dream landscape compares to the colour of Hoseok’s skin– something like flushed honey. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. It’s almost embarrassing the way Yoongi’s dick twitches in his pants, turned on just at the sight of a naked Hoseok. Fuck, he’s going to cream in his pants if he continues to stand here and watch Hoseok.
As if finally noticing that he’s not alone, Hoseok looks up, eyes heavy, lidded with confusion. “Hyung?” Hoseok drawls out, voice slurring with the onslaught of his heat. Thankfully, he still seems to be coherent enough so he’s probably not been thrown into a full heat yet, likely only transitioning from his preheat.
“Hob-ah…” Yoongi’s voice trails off. He can’t seem to look away from Hoseok, his eyes transfixed. He has half a mind to pinch himself, to make sure Hoseok is real. There’s no way someone can be this beautiful, this perfect.
“Hyung, you’re here,” Hoseok says with a huff, gathering the sheet as he shuffles up, crossing his legs and covering his crotch. Yoongi swallows when he sees the small tent in the sheet, a little grey at the tip, no doubt stained by Hoseok’s precome. Hoseok tilts his head to the side, giggling softly, bringing Yoongi’s attention back to him. “Sorry you had to see that. It’s hard to keep my head clear, especially after hearing you volunteered to help me out.”
Hold on a second… What?!
“Oh?” Yoongi chokes out, voice high pitched, head racing as he tries to keep up with what Hoseok is saying.
“Namjoon told me you reached out to the management and said you’d spend my heat with me,” Hoseok elaborates, shyly looking down at the ground, cheeks flushed a soft pink. His gaze flickers up towards Yoongi every now and then, eyes glossy under his thick lashes. “I’m honestly so relieved it’s you, hyung. I was fucking terrified that they were gonna call in some stranger. I really didn’t want that at all. Heck, I was even contemplating taking another dose of suppressants just to avoid the whole fiasco. But then…” Hoseok looks up and catches Yoongi’s eyes. He’s smiling, soft and pretty and more beautiful than Yoongi can handle. “But then, you made everything right, hyung. You offered to help me instead.”
Oh fucking hell. It’s all starting to make sense now. Hold on, hold on– Where’s Namjoon?! He should be in the room with Hoseok right now! Fuck, Yoongi feels so dumb for only just registering his absence. He was too distracted by how sexy Hoseok looked that his brain could barely even function properly. But now that he’s finally put the puzzle together, he’s absolutely livid. How dare Namjoon trick him this way?! How dare Namjoon play with his feelings?
As Yoongi continues to fume, a small buzz sound interrupts his thoughts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, glaring when he sees a notification from Namjoon.
Look behind you, hyung.
With a gasp, Yoongi immediately whips his head around, jaw dropping in surprise when he sees Namjoon leaning against the wall across the corridor. He’s smirking, looking smug, as he gives Yoongi a thumbs up, mouthing “good luck, hyung” like the insufferable bastard that he is. Yoongi has half a mind to run up to him and give him a smack on the back of his head for all the emotional turmoil he’s caused him today.
But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved that Namjoon didn’t follow through with his plan. He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t beating right out of his chest at the thought of being the one to help Hoseok instead.
“You got this,” Namjoon mouths, before waving goodbye and turning around to walk away. Yoongi stares at his retreating frame, lips parted awkwardly as he waits for his brain to kick into motion. He slowly turns on his heels, heart jumping up his throat when he faces Hoseok again. Hoseok looks like he’s in a daze, eyes glossed over and far away.
“Hyung,” Hoseok whispers. “What’re you lookin’ at?”
“Nothing,” Yoongi is quick to reply. “Just thought I heard something.” Hoseok’s eyes widen and he starts to look around. Yoongi chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, Hob-ah. I was just imagining things.”
“Hmmm?” Hoseok asks, lifting a brow. “So uh, do you think you’re finally ready to come scent me?” He exhales in a long sigh, pouting adorably and making grabby hands at Yoongi. “Please, hyung?”
“Of course!” Yoongi nods fiercely. “Sorry, Hob-ah.” Yoongi almost stumbles as he hurries over to the bed, huffing as he dips his knee into the edge of the mattress. It’s when he’s on his hands and knees, crawling towards where Hoseok sits cross-legged in the middle of the bed that he hears a tinkling sound. He looks up to find Hoseok giggling into his fist, eyes crinkled mirthfully.
“What?” Yoongi asks, miffed, looking down self-consciously. Hoseok doesn’t stop laughing though. Instead, he points towards Yoongi’s hand, laughing harder when Yoongi follows his gaze and gawks when he notices what it is.
Hoseok points at the plastic bag that Yoongi continues to hold on to with a vice grip. “You should probably put that down, hyung,” Hoseok manages to say, bending over with the force of his laughter.
With an embarrassed groan, Yoongi lifts the bag in the air, shaking his head as he contemplates it.
“What is it, by the way?” Hoseok asks, crawling forward and invading Yoongi’s space. Yoongi gulps, blinking furiously as Hoseok’s pronounced scent assaults his senses. Hoseok peels the bag out of Yoongi’s hands, frowning as he puts his hand inside. His eyes go wide when he takes the green tub out, lips parting in surprise as he registers what it is. His eyes dart to Yoongi, brows raised in confusion. “Hyung, since when do you like mint chocolate–?”
“I don’t!” Yoongi groans, rubbing harshly at his nape. “It’s a courting–” Yoongi pauses, holding his tongue when he realises he almost said it’s a courting gift. From Namjoon, no less. Sneaky fucker. This was all part of his plan. Getting the ice cream and forgetting it so that Yoongi would bring it up to Hoseok’s room. God damn it, Namjoon.
“It’s a gift from Joon.” Yoongi sighs. He peeks at Hoseok, suddenly feeling miffed. He opens his mouth, only to close it almost immediately when he realises he has nothing to say. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.
“Oh, for me?” Hoseok coos, pulling the lid off and dipping his finger right in the middle. He scoops out as much as he can with his index finger before plopping it into his mouth. He moans obscenely, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks his finger dry. Yoongi’s eyes are transfixed on Hoseok’s mouth, his dick twitching pathetically in his pants. Ah fuck, why is mint chocolate giving him a hard on?
“Too bad it’s all melted now,” Hoseok grunts out, closing the lid before stretching across the bed and placing it down on the floor. The sheet covering his crotch shifts as he moves, exposing the thin splatter of his happy trail, making Yoongi shift uncomfortably where he sits. Hoseok turns back to Yoongi, licking his fingers one by one, all while watching him with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide, lashes batting prettily against his flushed cheeks.
“Hyung?” Hoseok whispers, smacking his mouth after he pulls his fingers out. “Thank you for this. Really. It means a lot to me. More than just the relief of knowing I’ll be with someone familiar. But it’s more than that. I–” Hoseok pauses, gulping harshly, eyes flickering as he wipes his fingers against the sheets. For a brief moment, Yoongi wonders if he’s going to look away, but he doesn’t. Hoseok’s eyes never leave Yoongi’s. Not even for a moment.
“When Joonie said you’d be coming for me, it–” Hoseok sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He chews into his lower lip, making it plump, all glossy and red. So fucking pretty. Yoongi wants to close the gap between them and kiss him so fucking bad! But Hoseok isn’t done talking. “It made me so happy,” Hoseok whispers, eyes gleaming, dark and wet and Yoongi would drown in their depths if he physically could. “I was so happy to know that it would be you . That you’d be the one scenting me, and holding me, and– and–” Hoseok clears his throat, starting to play with his hair, cheeks so fucking red. “– and fucking me; and– It made me so relieved, hyung. So happy . My inner omega was thrilled, over the fucking moon. I–”
Hoseok groans, clenching his eyes shut and pressing his palms against his face as if to hide behind them. But Yoongi will not have it. He reaches over and gently peels Hoseok’s hands off, before cupping his face tenderly. Hoseok’s cheeks are warm from all the blushing and Yoongi rubs his thumbs against the soft flesh, marvelling at how soft it is.
“I really like you, hyung,” Hoseok says with a sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s touch, eyes open wide and vulnerable. It knocks the wind right out of Yoongi’s chest, his lips parting in a silent gasp. Oh. “I like you a lot ,” Hoseok continues, sighing for the umpteenth time. “I know it’s weird and I’m sorry for just laying it on you all of a sudden, hyung. But I wanted to let you know before– before you fuck me, before you help me with my heat. I’m–” Hoseok inhales shakily, blinking as if he’s trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry for making things awkward–”
Yoongi doesn’t let him finish. He pulls Hoseok forward and captures his lips in a kiss. Hoseok squeals in surprise, his eyes snapping open, jaw hanging loose. Yoongi doesn’t stop though; he pulls back for a bit before leaning back in and kissing Hoseok with purpose, slotting their mouths together before slipping his tongue in and tasting Hoseok’s mouth. There’s mint chocolate on his tongue, thick and heavy. But the taste of Hoseok himself is headier, sweeter, mellowing Yoongi’s mind and pulling him under.
With a soft moan, Hoseok closes his eyes, going lax as he wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck, hands coiling into Yoongi’s hair. Hoseok’s all soft and pliant against Yoongi and it ignites something in him. He groans, nipping at Hoseok’s lips before holding his hips and pressing him into the sheets.
Pulling back, he looks down at Hoseok, at the way his dark hair fans across the pillow, his eyes so dark and dilated that it’s almost all black, lips red and swollen from Yoongi’s incessant biting and tugging. The sheet’s falling to the side, exposing every inch of Hoseok’s skin in all its naked glory. Golden with the soft sheen of perspiration. Hoseok looks like a goddamn Adonis like this, sprawled out for Yoongi to devour. He trails his hand up Hoseok’s torso, dipping into his navel and tracing his faint abs, before mapping between his pecs, following his heartbeat to his throat and resting against his chin. Yoongi rubs his thumb against Hoseok’s lower lip, watching transfixed as they turn darker.
“I’m happy too,” Yoongi says, voice coming out lower than usual. “I like that I’m the one who gets to be with you like this, Hob-ah. That I’m the one who gets to kiss you–” Yoongi leans down to press a quick kiss against Hoseok’s mouth, smirking when Hoseok tries to chase his lips once he pulls back.
“– and scent you–” He then leans down, pressing his mouth against Hoseok’s scent gland and inhaling deeply. Hoseok gasps, trembling beneath him, hands curling into the sheets. Yoongi licks at the oil slowly trickling out of the soft patch, lapping at it and salivating as he craves for more. Vanilla. Sweet and unbelievably heady. Yoongi can lose himself in this taste. He groans, pulling back, watching the string of saliva connecting his lips to Hoseok’s neck snap in the air. The taste of vanilla, with a mild hit of mint chocolate, is still thick on his tongue.
“– and fuck you–” Yoongi groans, guttural and loud, moving his hands back down to Hoseok’s hips, trailing down to his thighs before gently prying his legs apart, spreading them, mouth going dry when he takes in the ethereal sight ofHoseok’s naked body.
Hoseok’s thighs tremble, soft and supple beneath Yoongi’s near bruising grip. Yoongi’s mouth waters, wanting nothing more than to bend down and nibble at the soft flesh, leaving dozens of little marks littered across his skin, like a reminder of Yoongi’s brand. Hoseok’s cock drools against his navel, thin and short, twitching pathetically every time Yoongi so much as shifts. It’s fucking sexy.
Yoongi tugs Hoseok’s legs up, pressing his knees against his chest and finally taking a look at his hole. It’s a sight to behold. Red and quivering, sopping wet as slick dribbles out in thick rivulets, staining the sheets darker. Yoongi’s mouth waters, stomach twisting in arousal as he watches the slick ooze out, slow and viscous, smelling so fucking sweet. Hoseok smells so fucking delectable.
Of course, Yoongi can not help but trace his finger against Hoseok’s rim, gulping as it flutters against the gentle force of his digit, before opening up for him like a flower, sucking his finger in all the way to the knuckles. Hoseok makes a garbled sound, something incorrigible. But Yoongi is faring no better, his restraint stretched thin as Hoseok sucks him into his scorching hot heat. Wet and warm and welcoming. Yoongi groans, thrusting his finger deeper and curling it, watching in fascination as Hoseok keens, head thrown back, mouth open, drool spilling down the sides of his face. God, Yoongi wants to finger Hoseok until he cries– until he comes, over and over. He wants to fuck Hoseok with his fingers, before fucking him with his mouth. And then his dick– god, he’s so fucking hard right now, it’s almost concerning. He wants to fuck Hoseok– needs to fuck Hoseok!
With a shuddering exhale, Yoongi pulls his finger out, giving a soft slap to Hoseok’s thigh when he squeezes around it, whining as he tries to keep Yoongi inside him. Yoongi laughs before bringing his soaked finger to his lips, groaning immediately at the taste of Hoseok’s slick. So fucking sweet, so intoxicating. Fuck. Yoongi’s dick is starting to hurt.
“Wanna fuck you so bad,” Yoongi mutters, bending down and mouthing at Hoseok’s scent gland again, nipping at it and making him yelp, before laving his tongue against it in a soothing motion. “Gonna fuck you so good when you go into heat. Gonna engrave my dick inside of you and ruin you so you can’t function without my knot. Gonna fucking wreck you, Hob-ah.”
“Hyung, please!” Hoseok sobs, making Yoongi hiss through his teeth when he makes a grab for Yoongi’s crotch, palming at his hard on through the confines of his clothes. “Hyung, I’m– I’m not in heat yet. A little groggy from the hormones but still one hundred percent sober and self aware. So–” Hoseok huffs out in frustration as he starts fiddling with the zipper of Yoongi’s pants, cursing under his breath. “So– please–”
Yoongi pulls back to help Hoseok in tugging his pants open. The metal teeth slide open with their characteristic sharp sound. And with a yelp of hurray, Hoseok’s hand slips into Yoongi’s pants, while the other tugs his pants down. They moan together at the first touch of Hoseok’s fingers against Yoongi’s shaft, feather light but still managing to ignite a fire against Yoongi’s already inflamed flesh. Hoseok lets out an obscene moan, low and prolonged, while he slowly slips Yoongi’s cock out of the confines of his boxers, jerking it as he looks at it with nothing less than reverence. The look goes straight down south, making Yoongi’s cock twitch under his fingers.
“Hyung,” Hoseok repeats, eyes darting between Yoongi’s face and his cock. “I’m not in heat right now. And I really want the first time you fuck me to be when I’m coherant–”
“Hoseok–!”
“– but only if you want to. It’s not part of helping me with my heat. You’d be indulging me as a lover. We’d both be aware of everything that happens. If that’s okay with you, can you–” Hoseok groans, rubbing his thumb against the slit of Yoongi’s cock, collecting the come that oozes out. “Can you fuck me, hyung?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi hisses out, wrapping his hand around Hoseok’s for a moment before pulling back. “I’ll fuck you whenever you want, Hob-ah. Heat or otherwise. I’ll fuck you all the fucking time if you’ll let me. Is that what you want?” Yoongi presses Hoseok’s legs against his chest, exposing his hole and lining up against it. He grunts as he rubs the tip against the crack, teasing against the twitching rim. “So fucking hungry for my dick. Want me to fuck you that bad, Hob-ah? You’re gonna be hyung’s little knot sleeve tonight, aren’t you?”
“Oh god yes, please–” Hoseok sobs, throwing his head back, covering his eyes with the back of his palms. Yoongi snarls, grabbing both of Hoseok’s wrists with one hand and pinning them up against the pillows. Hoseok sobs, eyes screwed shut, teeth gnawing into his lower lip.
“Gonna fuck you so good,” Yoongi whispers, guiding his hips forward and slowly entering Hoseok, inch by inch. Slick coats his cock the instant he penetrates Hoseok’s hole. It’s tight and warm and smooth. Wet, so fucking wet. A layer of slick coats Yoongi’s shaft as he thrusts in.
He starts off slow, a tortuous drag against Hoseok’s walls, until he’s settled all the way in, so deep that his balls smack against Hoseok’s ass. Yoong groans, dick twitching every time Hoseok squeezes around him, shooting thrills of pleasure down his spine. After he’s made sure that Hoseok has got accustomed to his size, Yoongi slowly pulls out to the tip, circling his hips before he snaps back in, pulling an aborted gasp out of Hoseok’s mouth. He sets a steady pace, making sure Hoseok is enjoying it just as much, that there’s no discomfort of any sort. He wants to be careful with Hoseok. He wants everything to be perfect.
Yoongi suddenly stops, freezing mid thrust as he suddenly remembers that they’re not using a condom. Oh fuck, oh fuck–
“Hob-ah,” Yoongi grits out, wincing when Hoseok squeezes around him and tries to pull him back in. “I forgot the condom; we need a fucking condom. Hold on, let me call someone to get us some–”
“‘S okay, hyung,” Hoseok drawls out, looping his legs around Yoongi’s waist and locking his ankles together, before pressing them against Yoongi’s ass and propelling him forward. Yoongi gasps, stumbling before sheathing himself all the way inside Hoseok, the pleasure so amped up that it makes him feel dizzy.
“Don’t want a condom,” Hoseok whines, throwing his head back, legs locked as they secure Yoongi in place. He’s pouting and shaking his head stubbornly. “You can’t stop, hyung! Not when I’m this close to my first orgasm in months! I’ll get the pill later. Just– just fuck me– knot me god damn it!”
“Fuck,” Yoongi chokes out, feeling his cheeks heat up at how forward Hoseok is. And it’s not like Yoongi can deny him; he wouldn’t even dream of it. With a low groan, he leans down, stealing Hoseok’s lips and swallowing his moans. Hoseok whimpers into his mouth, mumbling wanton words, nibbling on Yoongi’s lips, before mouthing at his jaw and tonguing at his ear lobe. He’s a fucking menace, dripping slick while he sucks at Yoongi’s adam’s apple.
It’s when Hoseok nibbles at his scent gland that Yoongi’s restraint finally snaps. He roars, a guttural and feral sound, his inner alpha finally coming to the surface. Yoongi finally lets himself succumb to his lust, pounding into Hoseok’s heat, punching out a litany of “uh uh uh” s from his plump bitten lips. He’s soft and pliant beneath Yoongi, his knees buckling with the force of Yoongi’s thrusts, legs falling limp to the sides as he continues to take take take .
Yoongi almost doesn’t catch Hoseok orgasm. It’s a slow, gradual process. The slick starts pouring out like a faucet, drenching everything in a mixture of their scents. And then, his cock starts spilling, cum spurting out in ropes against his stomach and on Yoongi’s navel. It’s the most erotic thing Yoongi’s ever seen. That’s what propels Yoongi to tip over as well, knot expanding rapidly and locking in place against Hoseok’s convulsing walls, making them groan out loud in unison.
“Fuck–” Yoongi groans, continuing to fuck Hoseok through it, forcing his knot into Hoseok, trying to carve a chasm into him so that no one else will ever be enough for him. No one except for Yoongi. No one else.
When Yoongi finally spills his seed, Hoseok has another orgasm, squirting all over Yoongi’s cock, almost forcing his knot loose with the force of the jet. And then, he collapses onto the sheets, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, entire body sweat slicked, wracking with post orgasmic tremors. Yoongi wants to etch this scene permanently onto his retina. Maybe Hoseok will let him take a picture next time. Maybe.
Next time.
Yoongi gulps, little butterflies coming to life in his tummy. He wants that. He wants to have many next times with Hoseok. Long after Hoseok’s heat is over. Heck, Yoongi wants Hoseok to share all his heats with him. Outside of his heats too. Outside of sex. Yoongi wants to go on dates with Hoseok, hold his hand, kiss him, walk their dogs together. He wants all of that.
With a wistful sigh, Yoongi gently jostles Hoseok so that he’s tucked against Yoongi’s side, his back pressed against Yoongi’s chest. They’re still connected by Yoongi’s perpetually pumping knot. It’s going to take a while for it to deflate. But by then, Hoseok will probably go into heat and they’ll start fucking all over again. Yoongi’s mouth goes dry at the thought, his knot twitching inside Hoseok and making him whimper groggily.
Exhaling shakily, Yoongi wraps his arms around Hoseok’s waist, tugging him close. He rubs against Hoseok’s distended stomach, groaning under his breath as he can make out the shape of his knot beneath the soft flesh. Oh, his dick is never going to be soft at this rate. Everything about Hoseok is turning him on to no end; it’s torturous.
But it’s a good kind of suffering, Yoongi decides. The best kind. He wouldn’t trade it for all the world. He smiles, nuzzling into Hoseok’s neck, inhaling his scent and slowly lowering his eyelids. His bones grow soft, vision blurring as a haze of drowsiness settles in.
A buzzing in his back pocket jolts Yoongi alert. He curses silently before grabbing his phone and bringing it to his face. He squints, blinking when he sees a message notification from Namjoon.
You owe me one, hyung ;)
Yoongi smirks, typing out a reply before switching his phone off and throwing it across the room.
shut up, punk
but thanks
i’ll treat you to barbeque some time
“Hyung?” Hoseok rouses from his sleep, turning around and squinting sleepily. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi replies, sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Go back to sleep, Hob-ah.”
Hoseok grunts, curling in on himself and drifting off to sleep almost instantly. It’s endearing, like everything else about Hoseok. Yoongi chuckles, turning towards his side. With a self satisfied purr, he gathers Hoseok into his arms, spooning him once again, kissing his crown and inhaling his sweet vanilla scent, just waiting to be lulled into sleep. He already knows he’s going to have the sweetest dreams. Yoongi hums, murmuring under his breath.
“Everything’s perfect.”
Fin