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There’s sweat cooling at the base of his neck, the lecture hall oddly warm despite the air conditioning blasting through the vents. Then again, there were some one hundred students swarmed in and Jimin had always been susceptible to temperature changes. The alpha sitting next to him smells like incense, overpowering and spicy, burning at Jimin’s nose. He’s not usually this sensitive but even his jeans feel rough against his skin, like cardboard rubbing against him.
Thankfully they only have twenty minutes left, and Jimin can hopefully go home and take a shower, feeling sticky as he sinks down further in his seat. It’s getting harder and harder to focus, his professor’s words jumbling together as Jimin’s attention wanes.
“Shit,” he mumbles, sucking in a breath, the taste of sandalwood and rose washing over his mouth. He rubs at the back of his neck, skin itchy, a flush crawling up his chest. His mouth’s gone dry, and when he shifts his legs apart, it clicks.
Fuck.
Suddenly, the alpha next to him doesn’t look so disinterested, and Jimin squeezes his legs closed, dragging his bag into his lap, purposefully avoiding the alpha’s eyes. He almost always picked aisle seats and he’s never been quite so thankful, shoving his things into his bag before rushing out of the lecture.
By the time he gets out of the lecture hall, his cock’s hard and Jimin’s skin is burning, clothes too thick in the late spring weather. He rushes out into the afternoon’s cool, only to find that it offers no relief. Shit, shit, shit.
He hasn’t gone through a heat in nearly four years, not since they started. Back then, Jimin had spent days cooped up in his room, heat lasting five painful days. Jimin’s parents had, thankfully, put him on suppressants since he was sixteen, but Jimin, short on cash had bought this month’s suppressants at a lower dosage, thinking he’d be fine.
“Fuck,” Jimin curses, eyeing the crowd of people at the bus stop warily. Getting home on foot would take too long, and there’s an angry fire burning in his gut, ready to consume him whole. He takes the risk, gets on the bus, sitting right by the bus driver, exit clear. Fear swells inside him, eyes downcast as Jimin watches people walk past him. Maybe they can’t smell it, Jimin tells himself.
Twenty minutes later, Jimin is stumbling off the bus, slick wetness already between his thighs, lungs heavy. His head feels light-headed, a want like nothing he’s ever felt devouring him. Jimin’s cursing under his breath, fists clenched as he makes it to his apartment, praying that Taehyung’s already left for his class.
The place is empty, and Jimin would sigh with relief, but the feeling doesn’t come. His skin itches, ache settling between his hips, clothes too much. By the time he gets to his room, he’s in nothing but his underwear, clothes chucked into a corner as he locks the door behind him. Flicking the fan he’s kept in the corner all winter on, Jimin collapses onto his bed, hissing as he makes contact with the rough cotton.
His scent is overpowering in his room, burnt caramel giving away to sharp cinnamon, and Jimin’s never felt so desperate to feel a cock up his ass, an alpha’s knot filling him up. There’s slick running down his thighs, underwear soaking up, and Jimin’s got his palm pressed to his cock, gasping. He can’t even think of a time he’s been so aroused, not even on those rare occasions when Jimin, horny and stressed, let an alpha take him home.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his underwear down, the fabric brushing over his cock painfully. His skin’s flushed, cock hard and leaking precum. Jimin’s taking himself into his hand, thumb pressing into the slit, a delirious mindlessness settling in. It sends a shudder down his spine, guttural moan slipping out and it was never this bad. His heats were never this bad, didn’t just knock him out like this.
Heats were easier to bare when he didn’t touch himself, didn’t let himself come, shorter, too, he remembers. There’d been one week he’d spent trapped in his room, cock rubbed raw and still unsatisfied. His parents had gotten him the suppressants after that round, and Jimin had been mostly grateful.
He’d heard about the side effects as much as any other omega. Lowered fertility, heats that could land you in the hospital, body temperature rising too high. He’s gritting his teeth, turning to press his face into his pillow and his hand is moving on it’s own, wrist flicking on the upstroke, control completely shot. Jimin’s moaning, voice pitched so high as he pushes two fingers into himself but he’s always had small hands, the angle awkward. It’s not enough and Jimin’s growling in frustration, jerking himself off furiously until he can feel the coil in his gut, balls tightening and he’s so close. So close, orgasm washing over him quickly, completely unsatisfying.
He’s panting, can taste sweat when he licks his mouth, rolling over to lie on his back. There’s a mess of cum on his belly, and his cock’s still hard, but Jimin can’t even touch it, fingers wet with his own slick. Wiping them on his sheets, Jimin rubs at his eyes, lip caught between his teeth. His options are limited and while he’s lucky that his apartment’s on an omega only floor, Taehyung would eventually come home and Jimin couldn’t very well be moaning and whining until his heat ended. He didn’t think he still had any embarrassment left in him, but it settles over him, cheeks burning.
Stumbling off the bed, Jimin grabs a handful of tissues off his desk, wiping cum off himself, dirty tissues dropped into his waste bin. He manages to make it to his closet, reaching for a shoebox he kept on the shelf but freezes when he catches the scent. Bergamot washed over by rain, something earthy and comforting and Jimin feels wetness pool out of him, groaning. The sweater’s on the floor of his closet, shoved there by Jimin after he’d nearly jerked off inhaling it in.
Today he has no self-restraint, snatching it off the ground and immediately bringing it to his nose. It smells just like Namjoon, scent somewhat faded but Jimin’s cock twitches as he falls back onto his bed. Heat prickles over his skin, a hot flush burning down the back of his neck and he can’t do this, he really can’t. Namjoon probably doesn’t even like him, and there’s no way Jimin’s going to be able to look him in the eye after this.
He’s got his head buried in the sweater, every inhale has him shuddering, little whimpers escaping him as he remembers Namjoon draping it over him, Jimin under-dressed for the weather. Of all the alphas Jimin had ever met, Namjoon had swept him off his feet, always so careful with Jimin’s boundaries, mindful of his space, respectful. Jimin had pretty much given up on the idea of ever meeting an alpha who wasn’t arrogant and insufferable.
Groaning, Jimin shoves the sweater aside, curling up in on himself as he reasons that he can’t jerk off while smelling Namjoon’s sweater. Wouldn’t that be creepy? How was he going to give the sweater back? He’s supposed to see Namjoon this weekend for help on his upcoming accounting exam.
A wave of heat boils through him, cock aching between his legs, and he has half a mind to crawl into the bathtub and just sit under the spray of an icy cold shower. This wasn’t going to work, he needed an alpha, or at least he needed to be locked up somewhere so he wouldn’t go begging just about anyone to fuck him.
Suppressing a frustrated growl, Jimin forces himself up, heading for the kitchen for an ice pack, the shower idea sounding more appealing by the second. If he could hold off the heat for a couple of hours, he could check himself into a hospital or something. He has the ice pack pressed to his forehead when he hears his ringtone, catchy tune of Female President filling the silence in the apartment.
Jimin rushes over to his bag, left by the front door and digs through it to get to his phone, freezing when he sees who it is. Namjoon.
For a split second he thinks of just turning his phone off, missing the call entirely but the heat has him ignoring every logical thought, and pressing answer. Jimin’s eyes widen, cursing under his breath as he presses the phone to his ear, suddenly very aware of just how naked he is.
“Jimin? Hello?” Namjoon says, and Jimin doesn’t hold back the little whimper that escapes him as well as he wants to, biting down hard on his bottom lip. “Jimin?”
“H-hi,” Jimin manages, grabbing his bag and padding back to his room. There’s slick running half-way down his thigh and it makes Jimin grimace, nose scrunching up.
“Hey,” Namjoon greets, sounding happy and maybe Jimin’s just hearing that because he wants to. Namjoon’s voice is so deep, naturally husky and it has Jimin sliding down the length of his door, ass clenching. “Did I call at a bad time?”
Jimin wants to laugh, but he doesn’t, swallowing down the way his body sings to the tune of Namjoon’s voice. “N-no, I’m just at home.”
Silence meets him before Namjoon clears his throat, “How’re you doing? You had class today, yeah?”
“Um, y-yeah,” Jimin answers, trying to regulate his breathing, stubbornly ignoring the way his body seems ablaze at the mere sound of Namjoon’s voice. He can’t help but think about Namjoon being here, with him, pressing him into his mattress as he fucks him and he has to bite down on his lip so hard he can taste blood. He’s breathless when he adds, "Everything’s good. How’re you, h-hyung?”
“I’m good, had a paper due today,” Namjoon answers, and Jimin’s hardly listening, thoughts wandering to Namjoon’s mouth, plush lips against Jimin’s own, around his cock. He wishes he could feel Namjoon inside of him, feel the swell of his knot, cum painting his insides white and he’s so preoccupied he doesn’t catch whatever Namjoon says, guilt swarming him.
“I’m sorry, hyung, I, I didn’t, ah, catch that,” Jimin says, squeezing around the base of his cock, and god, what is he doing? He should never have taken the fucking call. His breathing’s too irregular, loud but not loud enough to drown out the thrum of his heartbeat.
“I was just saying, are we -- Are you okay, Jimin?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin can fucking imagine the little furrow between his brows, the way he’d look just at Jimin, attention focused. He can’t help the whimper he lets out, fresh wave of heat washing over him, slick dripping out of him.
“Y-yeah! Of course, hyung,” Jimin answers, too quickly but he’s not in control of himself, desperation taking over. He wants Namjoon to fuck him senseless, wants him to pound his cock into Jimin until he’s sobbing profanities and Namjoon’s name and nothing else.
“Are you sure? You sound kinda off,” Namjoon presses, worry evident in his voice and Jimin hates it, hates the way he melts at the thought of Namjoon’s concern.
“I’m,” Jimin starts, mouth dry, chest heavy, thumb pressing into the slit of his cock, gasping, “I’m fine.”
“Jimin,” Namjoon says, voice quieter, more serious. Jimin can’t help the groan, fisting his cock and he’s so gone, so hard and wet and hot for Namjoon. “Jimin, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, hyung,” Jimin exhales, practically panting and a part of him knows that there’s no way Namjoon doesn’t know by now, he’s too smart, has probably dated omegas before. The thought has a ferocious jealousy clench around his heart, teeth gritting as he wills himself to stop.
But the way his name sounds on Namjoon’s lips is delicious, it’s everything Jimin wants to hear, wants pressed into his skin as Namjoon fucks him. Like Sisyphus, he’s losing an uphill battle.
“Jimin, please, you can tell me,” and it sounds more like Namjoon wants confirmation. Jimin’s squeezing his eyes shut, feeling miserable and over-heated.
“I,” Jimin starts, tongue dragging over his bottom lip. He can feel the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes, and Namjoon probably thinks he’s disgusting. “I was on s-suppressants.”
Namjoon lets out a shaky breath but he doesn’t say anything and Jimin swallows, holding back tears. He hates him, Jimin’s sure. It’s not like Namjoon liked him, and Jimin just wishes he hadn’t cheaped out on his suppressants.
“The, my doctor told me,” Jimin’s shaking, tremble settling into his limbs as he explains and it’s awful, this is all so fucking awful. He just wants to cry. “He told me that my, my dosage had increased b-but I didn’t, money’s really tight and I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry, I s-shouldn’t have answered.”
He’s crying, hiccups interrupting his words, and his body is still coiled up so tight, still so desperate and ready. It’s overwhelming, everything jumbled up inside of Jimin; he’s confused and heart-broken and horny beyond imagination.
Jimin doesn’t even want to hear Namjoon’s response, tells him as much. “I’m, I’m gonna hang up. I’m sorry, hyung. You probably h-hate me now.”
“Hey, hey, Jimin, no. I do not hate you,” Namjoon rushes, and Jimin’s not even sure he believes him but there’s something in his voice that has him pausing. “Please don’t hang up.”
Jimin says nothing, sniffling over the phone, wiping away hot tears as quickly as he can. He feels so stupid.
Namjoon swallows, “Do you, I mean, I could -- ”
“W-what?” Jimin gapes, realization sinking into him quicker than he expects and his stomach twists at the thought, hope bubbling up too quick.
“Do you, do you want me to help?” Namjoon offers, and this time he sounds less uncertain, but Jimin’s gut wrenches. Biting down on his lip, Jimin reasons that Namjoon couldn’t possibly be offering to sleep with them, that’s just what Jimin’s lust addled mind wants.
“I, I think I’ll be okay. I mean, I can,” Jimin swallows, “I can just call an ambulance, you don’t have to take me to the hospital. Thank you for -- ”
But Jimin’s cut off by Namjoon, tone commanding in a way Jimin’s never heard before, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “Jimin, that’s not what I mean.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimin squeaks, the apology coming forward without any thought and Namjoon sounds so sure, Jimin’s cock twitching, still painfully hard. He’s starting to feel hazy, burnt up, the wetness between his thighs uncomfortable.
“Ssh, you did nothing wrong,” Namjoon soothes, and he’s softer now, sweeter but there’s still something in his tone that has Jimin forgetting everything else, eager to hang off his every word. It hits him, involuntary moan escaping him. Namjoon was using his alpha tone. He’d never done that before, ever. “I’m saying, I can come over if you want me to. I want to.”
Jimin’s heart thuds to a stop, tears welling up in his eyes again, and he’s trembling when he responds. “You, you can’t. Alphas aren’t allowed on my floor.”
“Shit,” Namjoon curses, and Jimin’s crawling across the floor to Namjoon’s sweater, bergamont a welcome comfort. He can’t quite believe what Namjoon’s offering, heart racing wildly in his chest. “I can come pick you up? If that’s okay with you.”
He buries his nose into the sweater, inhaling Namjoon’s scent, head hitting the back of his bed, phone still pressed to his ear. Jimin wets his lips, throat tight, body still burning and burning and burning. “Is that, is that okay?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes. “I’ll text you when I get to your place.”
“Okay,” Jimin replies, and it’s not until he’s listening to the dial tone that it sinks in. Namjoon wants him.
It takes him a good ten minutes to haul himself up, wiping slick from between his thighs before slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, disliking the way they both feel against his skin. He stares at the sweater for a good minute before pulling it on, too, cheeks flushing at his audacity.
He goes to the bathroom, splashing cold water against his face, through his hair as he tries to cool off, phone set next to him. Namjoon lives about half an hour away from him, he knows because he’s timed it while heading back from Namjoon’s after studying. The wait feels like it’s going to kill him, and Jimin can’t stop thinking about how Namjoon’s skin will taste, how thick his cock will be, how his knot will stretch him out.
“Fuck,” he mutters, glancing at the time on his phone before realizing he should tell Taehyung he’s not going to be at home. He sends a short text, not quite explaining anything, embarrassment getting the better of him. Taehyung had gone off suppressants a year ago, after meeting Yoongi and he’d never just unexpectedly gone into heat, at least not to Jimin’s knowledge. Maybe he’d had a similar experience, they’d never talked about it and Jimin honestly couldn’t blame him.
His phone buzzes, just as Jimin’s taken a pack of frozen peas out of the freezer and pressed it to his neck. Scrambling to get it, Jimin reads the message quickly, I’m almost there.
Jimin’s body pulsates, as if struck like a drum, reverberations trembling out of him. His hands shake as he grabs the keys to the apartment, shoving his phone into his sweats and he probably shouldn’t leave just yet but he has nothing left of his patience, nearly running to the elevator. By the time he gets downstairs, he’s got a sheen of sweat glistening against his skin, foyer’s air conditioning cooler than his own apartment’s.
A couple walks past him in the foyer, Jimin shrinking back as he stares out of the front doors, avoiding making any eye contact. Namjoon’s scent isn’t going to be enough to ward off a pushy alpha, and Jimin knows that but he pulls the sweater tighter around himself, willing Namjoon to come faster.
His wish comes true when his phone vibrates again, a taxi pulling up outside of Jimin’s apartment. Namjoon steps out, spotting Jimin immediately and Jimin’s knees feel like they might give out from under him, slick dripping out of him at the sight of him. He’s never wanted an alpha to own him as much as he wants Namjoon, the feeling so overwhelming it has Jimin reeling.
But then he’s rushing forward, Namjoon nearly at the apartment’s front doors and Jimin’s lost all self-control, desire drowning everything else out as he throws himself at Namjoon, face pressed into the crook of Namjoon’s neck. His scent is a hundred times stronger, warm and relaxing. Jimin’s sighing into it, body melting in Namjoon’s hold.
“Hey,” Namjoon greets, voice soft in Jimin’s ear and it sends a shiver down his spine, nerves twisting into bundles as he realises what he’s doing.
“H-hey,” Jimin replies, about to pull back when Namjoon leans in to scent him, nose nuzzling just behind Jimin’s ear. His gut swoops, little whimper escaping him as Namjoon’s hand smoothes down the curve of his back, settling right above his ass.
“You’re wearing my sweater,” Namjoon comments, pulling away just enough so that he can take in Jimin’s appearance, fingers brushing over the hem of the sweater, touching Jimin’s skin so fleetingly it’s entirely unfair.
“Smells like you,” Jimin responds, focus fixed on Namjoon’s mouth and he’s wondered a thousand times what Namjoon must taste like, if he’ll wash over Jimin’s tongue like earl grey tea or settle like rain drops against Jimin’s skin.
“I never got to keep anything of yours,” Namjoon accuses, pouting, but there’s humour in his voice, and Jimin’s sinking, anchored down by his want, lust pulling him further down into the depths of his desire.
“You can keep me,” he breathes, voice thick with want. Jimin finally meets Namjoon’s gaze, and his usually well kept hair is disheveled, falling down into his eyes in messy waves. Jimin bites down on his lip.
“Shit,” Namjoon exhales, thumb tracing over the jut of Jimin’s jaw. “We’ll taxi it to my place, yeah?”
Jimin nods, appreciates that Namjoon lets Jimin suck in another deep inhale of his scent as he pulls him toward the waiting car. He gets the back door open, ushering Jimin to take a seat when the taxi driver tells them to stop.
“He’s in heat!” the taxi driver spits, and Jimin can tell he’s a beta, his scent neither overwhelming nor overpowering. “He’ll stink my car up, no way I’m giving you a ride. Besides, smelling like that, he’s just asking for it.”
Namjoon’s growl is ferocious, loud enough that people walking past them start to slow down as they stare at whatever’s happening. He’s snarling as he reaches into the taxi, rage radiating off of him, nearly suffocating as it swarms over Jimin. “What the fuck did you just say, you piece of fucking shit?”
“Namjoon,” Jimin gasps, putting himself bodily in the way so Namjoon can’t actually punch the driver out. He’s shoving Namjoon away, hands flat against the firmness of Namjoon’s chest as he attempts to push him away. “Namjoon, please, it’s fine. Hyung, listen to me! It’s fine!”
“He can’t fucking talk about you like that!” Namjoon fumes, livid beyond anything Jimin’s ever seen and Jimin doesn’t have the strength to push him away, struggling to hold him at bay. “You fucker, get the fuck out here and try to say that again!”
“Namjoon!” Jimin screams, anxious and helpless, people starting to stop as they watch the scene unfold. Jimin does the only thing that comes to mind, fingers clutching Namjoon’s shirt to yank him down, Jimin’s mouth colliding with Namjoon’s and it’s teeth clacking, mostly painful, a bruising kiss, nothing like what Jimin had imagined their first to be like.
Namjoon’s completely taken aback, nearly staggering back and Jimin presses forward, gets him to take a step back, fury still evident as he seethes in Jimin’s hold. He doesn’t let go, head tilting to accommodate Namjoon, mouth slipping open as Namjoon’s hand fists into Jimin’s hair, painfully hard. It’s like being devoured, like Namjoon wants to swallow him whole, and Jimin’s ready, oh god, he’s ready, blood rushing to his head, the wetness dripping out of him scenting the air around him.
“Hyung,” Jimin gasps, “hyung, I -- ” And Jimin regrets saying anything immediately, Namjoon forcibly pulling away, pupils dilated, a pink flush tinging his cheeks.
“Fuck, we can’t, not here,” Namjoon pants, just as breathless and Jimin lets out a sob, feeling like he’s been thrown into a furnace. He’s rubbing a hand over his face and Jimin can hear the taxi driver saying something but he doesn't care, slamming the open door shut. The taxi shoots away in the next second, Jimin wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s waist as he tries to will his arousal to something manageable again. His heat’s having none of it and he wouldn’t be standing if Namjoon didn’t have his arms wrapped around Jimin.
“Can we just, we’ll take the subway,” Jimin suggests, the rage seemingly drained out of Namjoon as he clues back into their current situation. The group of people around them seem to have moved along, and it eases Jimin’s nerves a little.
“That’s too dangerous,” Namjoon rejects, shaking his head but he’s got a hand curled around Jimin’s neck, the other rubbing up and down Jimin’s back.
“You’ll be with me, it’ll be okay. I took the bus from campus, nothing happened,” Jimin tells him and Namjoon goes rigid in his hold again. He leans back, hands on Jimin’s shoulders as he shoots him an incredulous look.
“You went into heat on campus?” Namjoon exclaims disbelievingly and Jimin flushes, eyes dropping from Namjoon’s
“It’s not like I could control it,” he huffs, irritated but ashamed, lip caught between his teeth and god he just wants Namjoon to fuck him already.
“I’m, of course you couldn’t control it. I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” Namjoon apologises, wrapping Jimin up in a hug once again. “I meant it was dangerous for you to come back here.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Jimin mumbles, unable to keep himself from nuzzling into Namjoon. He wonders if Namjoon’s scent is all over him yet, if everyone can tell he’s taken.
“Call me,” Namjoon answers, fingers carding through his hair. “We’ll take the subway but you have to promise to stay close.”
Jimin snorts, willing himself to not just sink his teeth into Namjoon’s exposed collarbone. “I really don’t think me not staying close is going to be a problem.”
Namjoon laughs, pulling away. He lets a hand slide down Jimin’s arm before lacing their fingers together, dimpled smile making Jimin’s stomach twist painfully. “Good.”
Jimin swallows, lets Namjoon pull him in the direction of the nearest subway station, a good ten minutes from Jimin’s place. It’s busier now, Jimin’s apartment on one of the main roads and he has to keep a step behind Namjoon, taking cover in Namjoon’s shadow. Fear prickles under his skin, the way some of the passersbys look at Jimin tells him they know.
The subway’s crowded when they make it down the stairs, Namjoon shifting Jimin until he’s right in front of him as they get to one of the turnstiles.
“I don’t have my metropass,” Jimin panics, turning to face Namjoon as it swells up inside of him, the presence of so many people around him suddenly too frightening. Namjoon’s hushing Jimin immediately, petting his hair.
“It’s okay, I have change, baby,” Namjoon soothes, arm wrapped around Jimin’s waist. “Just focus on me, yeah? Can you do that for me, sunshine?”
Jimin relaxes at the softness of his voice, Namjoon’s scent wrapping up around him protectively. “Y-yeah.”
“Good boy,” Namjoon murmurs, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s temple as he flashes his metrocard to the transit worker stationed by the turnstile. He buys a ticket for Jimin, and then they’re both through, Jimin a lot less anxious.
By the time they pile into the subway, Jimin’s too focused on how hot he feels, burning up from the inside out, Namjoon guiding him into a corner until he’s trapped between Namjoon’s chest and the train’s doors. Jimin uses this as an excuse to lean against Namjoon, his cock aching under the pressure of his sweatpants’ waistband. Namjoon’s scent doesn’t offer the same relief it did earlier, serving only to rile him up more, and god why weren’t they fucking yet?
Namjoon’s got an arm wrapped around his waist, hand gripping Jimin’s hip tightly to keep him from rutting against Namjoon right there. Jimin, annoyed, nips at Namjoon’s skin, pulling the neckline of his shirt down so he can suck on Namjoon’s collarbones.
“Jimin,” Namjoon warns, shifting so that he can put himself between Jimin and a guy standing particularly close to them. Jimin struggles to pull away, breathing against the teeth marks he’s left against Namjoon’s skin. Something possessive curls in his gut, has him leaning back in, biting down harder until he can hear Namjoon growl against him, nails digging into Jimin’s hipbone.
“Sorry,” Jimin murmurs, licking at the mark, Namjoon’s skin salty with sweat, scent musky. “Just want you so much.”
“Fuck, you’re not making this easy, are you?” Namjoon heaves, pressing Jimin back into the door, kissing him roughly, tongue sweeping over Jimin’s lip and it has him shuddering, nearly moaning. There’s a tremble under his skin, heat curling up like a fire hot coal in his belly, and Jimin could come just from this, Namjoon’s mouth slick and hot.
The subway train jostles, Namjoon thudding into Jimin, forcing them to break apart. Jimin’s cock rubs against Namjoon’s thigh, Jimin whining at the friction, too loud. The guy behind Namjoon gives him a predatory look and gets a snarl from Namjoon for his trouble, heat flaring in Jimin’s belly at the protectiveness, agonizing. Slick pools out of him in a fresh wave, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to soak through his sweats soon.
Jimin can’t help himself, rutting against the friction and the sharpness of his scent, caramel and cinnamon, floods the compartment, heady. Namjoon twists his hand into Jimin’s hair, holding him still as he hisses into his ear. “If you don’t fucking behave, I’ll leave you hanging just like this. Do you want that, baby? Want me to put a cock ring over that pretty little dick of yours as I fuck you?”
“N-no, no please, hyung,” Jimin gasps, unable to ignore the way Namjoon’s tone has him trembling, desperation for Namjoon’s approval consuming him. “I’ll be good, hyung, please.”
“Good boy,” Namjoon whispers, approval evident as his hold in Jimin’s hair loosens. Jimin has no idea how much farther they have left until Namjoon’s stop but as the train doors open, Namjoon’s squeezing Jimin out of the packed compartment and onto a mostly empty platform. He rushes them out of the station, and onto a bus, Jimin tight against him. Jimin’s starting to feel woozy, ache settling in his bones as his heat draws out and he’s positive if he’d tried to hole himself up in his room, he’d have ended up in the hospital instead. He’s grateful to Namjoon, arms wrapping around him as Jimin rests bodily against him.
“You’re doing so good, Jimin,” Namjoon tells him, rubbing his hand up and down Jimin’s spine and it’s nice but Jimin’s clothes feel awful and he wants to be naked, wants this to be over. “We’re almost there.”
Everything feels like a blur after that, Namjoon helping Jimin off the bus, and he’s not sure how he’s managed the walk to Namjoon’s apartment but he’s whining and begging Namjoon to fuck him as they get into the elevator, desperation getting the better of him.
“Please, please hyung, I’m, it hurts hyung, you said, you said ah, please,” Jimin cries, rutting against Namjoon any way he can, so close, if only Namjoon would touch him.
“Fuck, Jimin, we’re almost there, I promise. You, fuck,” Namjoon curses, shoving Jimin up against the elevator wall to get him to keep still. He has his face pressed into Jimin’s hair and Jimin can definitely feel Namjoon’s cock against his waist. He’s hard. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Jimin whines in return, writhing against Namjoon, getting on his tip toes as he tries to bury his nose into Namjoon’s neck again, breathing in bergamot and petrichor, earthy and cool. The elevator doors slide open and Namjoon’s hoisting Jimin up, Jimin’s legs wrapping around Namjoon’s waist as he carries him to his apartment. Shameless, Jimin rolls his hips against Namjoon, catches the groan that escapes Namjoon’s lips, the tight furrow between his brows as he glares at Jimin.
“Didn’t think you’d want me this much,” Namjoon whispers into Jimin’s ear. He’s unlocking his apartment door, carrying Jimin inside and it smells entirely of Namjoon, slick dripping out of Jimin as he inhales, biting on Namjoon’s earlobe.
“Always wanted you,” Jimin tells him, words sticking to his throat, heavier and heavier but then Namjoon’s slamming him into the back of the door, hand squeezing Jimin’s ass, fingers digging between his cheeks.
“Yeah?” Namjoon asks, mouth hovering over Jimin’s and Jimin just wants them to kiss already but it’s as if Namjoon’s presence alone is pinning him to the door, body out of his control.
“Y-yeah,” Jimin swallows, eyes fixed on Namjoon’s mouth, arms wrapped tightly around Namjoon’s neck. He moans as he feels Namjoon’s fingers press against his hole, his wetness soaking through the cotton of his sweats.
“Can’t fucking believe you’re so wet,” Namjoon breathes, kissing the corner of Jimin’s mouth. “For me, yeah, baby? Want me to fuck that tight little ass of yours?”
“Yes, please hyung,” Jimin pants, and he’s well beyond the point of begging, just wants cock up his ass, fucked senseless.
“You smell so fucking good,” Namjoon exhales, kissing Jimin agonizingly slow, tongue ghosting over Jimin’s bottom lip, tracing his philtrum, Jimin’s mouth falls open on it’s own. Namjoon sucks in his upper lip, tongue dragging against Jimin’s, and he can feel the tension in Namjoon’s shoulders, the self-restraint. They’re pressed up so tightly against each other, Jimin’s hips rolling against Namjoon’s belly, cock painfully hard. “Wanna eat you up.”
“Then eat me up,” Jimin gasps, Namjoon rocking forward into him, the friction against his cock delicious. He can feel the hardness of Namjoon’s cock against his body, and Jimin can’t help but notice how big it feels, shuddering at the thought of it fucking him open.
“You getting this desperate all for me?” Namjoon chuckles, smirking and maybe Jimin would be annoyed at another time, rolling his eyes at Namjoon’s smug confidence but it’s not exactly a lie. Jimin ruts against him, sucks on Namjoon’s plush lips, desperation focusing his attention on the ache in his balls, the tight coil of heat in his belly.
Namjoon doesn’t seem to want to move away from the door, and Jimin lets out a growl of frustration, hand fisting into Namjoon’s hair, voice hitching when Namjoon kneads his ass in retaliation. “Hyung, you’re so, ah, u-unfair.”
“Am I?” Namjoon murmurs, mouth sucking hickies against Jimin’s neck, and he just wants to come, wants Namjoon to stop teasing him. Instead, Namjoon bites down against the curve of Jimin’s neck, tongue lapping at the bruise, his hips grinding into Jimin harder and Jimin’s so fucking close. “I just love seeing you so desperate for my cock, makes you look even prettier.”
“Hyung,” Jimin whines, keening as Namjoon slips his hand down Jimin’s sweats, fingers slipping between his ass cheeks, sliding through the slick until he’s rubbing at Jimin’s entrance. Jimin loses it, clenching around Namjoon, body going rigid as his head falls back against the door, balls tightening up and his orgasm rips through him, cum soiling his sweats, sticky and uncomfortable. Jimin goes limp in Namjoon’s hold, panting against the door and his cock’s still not fucking soft, but the haze in his mind settles a little.
“Did you like that, baby?” Namjoon asks, murmuring, pushes them away from the wall. He’s still got his hand squeezed between Jimin’s ass, the pressure against his entrance driving Jimin crazy. “I’ve thought about making you come so many times, thought about your fucking ass sucking my cock right in.”
Jimin groans, face digging into Namjoon’s neck because he can’t even look at Namjoon right now, every word burning his skin red hot, his scent muskier and stronger. Namjoon just noses along Jimin’s jaw, breath ghosting over Jimin’s ear as Namjoon carries him to his bed.
“You made me wait for so long,” Namjoon tells him, and Jimin’s overheated and horny, but the words sink through him, anchoring him down.
“W-what?”
Namjoon sets Jimin down on his bed carefully, standing above Jimin, hand carding through Jimin’s hair until it fists into the strands in the back. There’s a predatory look in his eyes, completely ravenous, mouth swollen and pink, his dimple peaking out. He looms over Jimin, seemingly getting bigger and bigger as Jimin waits, always feeling so small in Namjoon’s presence. He loves it, even as it raises goosebumps along his arms, Namjoon tracing the shape of Jimin’s mouth, the sharp cut of his jaw.
“I could always smell how much you wanted me, Jimin,” Namjoon explains, slowly, watches as Jimin flushes. “Tell me, baby, did you ever get yourself off thinking about me?” Namjoon’s smirk widens when Jimin lets out a stifled whimper, nearly squeezing his eyes shut.
“You did, huh, baby?” Namjoon breathes, and he’s pushing Jimin down onto the bed roughly, peeling Jimin’s sweats right off. “Kept my sweater so you could think about me fucking you, yeah? And you didn’t even wear underwear, tsk, tsk.”
Jimin whines, embarrassment choking him up, but Namjoon’s stripping out of his shirt, muscles lean and taut. He swallows, hating that he was still in his own clothes. The itch from before isn’t as intense but he’s still uncomfortably warm, wanting to rid himself of every offending article of clothing. Except he can’t tear his eyes away from Namjoon, the alpha tugging his jeans off, briefs still on, the outline of his cock huge and Jimin’s eyes widen, mouth watering.
“Come here,” Namjoon instructs and Jimin lifts off the bed, lets Namjoon tug the sweater and his t-shirt off in one go, sighing in relief. Namjoon drags a hand down his neck, fingers dancing along Jimin’s shoulders. “You’re so pretty, baby. Just gorgeous, and that mouth of yours, fuck.”
Jimin squirms at the praise, eyelashes fluttering as he looks down, but Namjoon pulls his chin up, tutting. “Eyes on me, Jimin. Aren’t you gonna let hyung see how pretty you are?”
“I’m not,” Jimin starts, feels wetter and wetter, the delirious need from earlier pumping through his veins again. “Not that pretty.”
Namjoon purses his lips, presses Jimin back down against the bed as he settles over Jimin, knees on either side of Jimin’s hips. He smooths a hand up Jimin’s torso, thumb rubbing over Jimin’s nipple deliberately and it has Jimin shivering. “Who told you you weren’t pretty?”
Jimin doesn’t have a response to that, uneasy discomfort settling in his gut, and he wants to look away from Namjoon but he can’t, not when Namjoon’s looking at him with so much tenderness. The downward turn of his mouth has Jimin feeling guilty, but Namjoon doesn’t push him for a response, littering kisses all over Jimin’s quivering belly, teeth scraping skin as he bites down.
“Every inch of you is gorgeous, baby,” Namjoon tells him, sucking against a bite he’s left just under Jimin’s belly button, the sensation sends electricity shooting down the base of his spine, skin tingling.
“You’re so thick, just right. And these arms,” Namjoon says, a hand sliding down Jimin’s arm, Namjoon’s fingers slipping around Jimin’s wrist. “Look at these muscles, your delicate wrists, so pretty.” He presses a kiss to the inside of Jimin’s wrist, moving up as he kisses his way to Jimin’s shoulders.
“I could kiss your collarbones all day,” Namjoon continues, sucks bruises against Jimin’s skin, kisses the tip of Jimin’s shoulder, and then back up to Jimin’s neck. “And look at how pretty your jaw is, so sharp, your cheekbones, your cute nose,” and he kisses Jimin in all those places, tongue tracing over Jimin’s upper lip. “Your mouth is the prettiest, isn’t it? I think about kissing it a lot.”
Jimin’s near tears, heaving as he tries not to burst out sobbing but Namjoon’s not done, kissing Jimin slowly, licking his mouth open. “My baby’s got such pretty eyes, too, and look at these pecks,” he adds, finger dragging along the outline of Jimin’s chest, “your cute little nipples. Mmm, and these shoulders, so sturdy. Bet you’d look really hot if hyung dressed you up in a nice three piece suit, yeah? Fill it out so well.”
“Namjoon hyung,” Jimin sobs, hands covering his face as he feels hot tears slip down, completely overwhelmed by all of Namjoon’s praise. Namjoon continues to trail kisses and little marks as he works his way down Jimin’s torso, sucking in a nipple as he rolls it between his teeth. Jimin’s sucking in big breaths, trying to keep up as Namjoon tells him how much he loves Jimin’s belly, biting down particularly hard when he gets to Jimin’s hipbone. He licks at the mark he’s left, nose nuzzling into the skin there.
“But your thighs are definitely my favourite,” Namjoon says, kisses the insides of Jimin’s thighs, so close to Jimin’s cock, and Namjoon teases him, licking a wet stripe up Jimin’s length, tongue swirling around the head. “Baby’s got a cute cock, too.”
Jimin’s breath shudders out of him, skin on fire as Namjoon sucks on Jimin’s balls, fingers pushing between his cheeks again as he rubs at Jimin’s entrance. “And your ass, fuck, your ass is fucking unreal.”
“Hyung, please,” Jimin gasps, trying to get himself back under some semblance of control but he’s sobbing, hiccuping as he shakes, trembles wracking through his body. This is more than anything Jimin’s been given before.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Namjoon questions, rubbing at Jimin’s stomach as he pushes two fingers into Jimin, mouth sucking on the tip of Jimin’s cock, tongue pressing into the slit. Jimin arches off the bed, a hand fisting into Namjoon’s hair as he sinks down on Jimin’s cock, mouth wet and hot.
Jimin’s incoherent, doesn’t know what to say, just that he likes Namjoon so much. He’s bucking into Namjoon’s mouth, sobbing as Namjoon thrusts his fingers into Jimin, the obscene squelch filling the room burning under Jimin’s skin. Namjoon’s got a steady rhythm built up, head bobbing up and down as he thrusts into Jimin, adding a third finger.
Namjoon’s tongue pushes into his glans, Jimin’s hand tightening in Namjoon’s hair and then Namjoon’s pulling off, flipping Jimin onto his belly. Jimin barely has a second to breathe before Namjoon’s spreading Jimin’s ass apart, tongue joining his fingers at Jimin’s entrance.
“Fuck,” Jimin rasps, fingers twisting into the bed sheets as Namjoon’s tongue thrusts inside of him, nose digging into his ass as he eats Jimin out, pulling a scream out of him. He’s got a finger pressed right up against Jimin’s prostate, rubbing against it persistently and Jimin’s not going to last, wound up so tight, completely overwhelmed. There’s drool dripping down his mouth, Namjoon’s hand squeezing Jimin’s ass so tight he’s positive there’ll be bruises there in a few hours.
“Please, hyung, wanna come, please,” Jimin begs, digging his face into the sheets, and he’s mindless, can’t think beyond the feeling of Namjoon’s tongue inside of him, his fingers curling against Jimin’s walls as he spreads Jimin open.
It’s not until Jimin’s ass is clenching around Namjoon’s fingers, his tongue, that Namjoon pulls his tongue out, adding a fourth finger and filling Jimin up even more. Jimin twists around to see Namjoon, his mouth’s covered in Jimin’s wetness, slick shining across his nose, his cheeks, and Jimin’s moaning so loud, tears clinging to his lashes.
“Come for me, baby. Let hyung feel how tight you get,” Namjoon tells him, licking his lips as he fucks into Jimin harder, fingers brushing against Jimin’s sweet spot every time. And it’s enough, Jimin’s ass clenching around Namjoon’s fingers as he comes, thick ropes of cum splattering across the sheets, across Jimin’s abdomen as he stares at Namjoon, chest heaving. Namjoon doesn’t stop fucking into him until Jimin’s wincing, arm falling over his eyes.
“T-thank you, hyung,” Jimin says, breathless. The room’s filled with Jimin’s scent now, fresh apples and sweet caramel spiced with cinnamon. Namjoon settles down next to him, kisses Jimin and he can taste himself on Namjoon, feels dirty covered in cum and sweat but Namjoon’s so thorough, kisses Jimin like he can’t get enough.
“For what, baby?” Namjoon hums, sucks on Jimin’s tongue. Namjoon tastes sharper now, Jimin’s body spent and finally cooling down. “If I’m gonna be your alpha, I have to take care of you, don’t I?”
The words catch Jimin by surprise, heart thundering in his ears. “You, you wanna be my alpha?”
“If you want me to be,” Namjoon murmurs, still kissing Jimin but he’s managed to grab one of their discarded shirts to wipe Jimin clean. Jimin watches his hand, blushing when he spots the number of hickies Namjoon’s left all over him. They’re everywhere, his chest, stomach, down his thighs. He knows Namjoon’s left a few big ones on Jimin’s neck, his shoulders and Jimin glances up quickly at the mark he left on Namjoon in the subway, pleased to see it darkened purple.
Jimin licks his mouth, head nodding just the slightest. “I-I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” Namjoon breathes, the shirt in his hand discarded again. Jimin has to muster all his courage to look Namjoon in the eye, cheeks burning.
“Yeah,” he answers, voice hitching. Habit has him biting down on his lip, and Namjoon watches the motion like a hawk.
“Fuck,” Namjoon exhales, leans in to kiss Jimin again, hand stroking over Jimin’s side repeatedly, as if petting him. “My baby’s gonna be a good boy for hyung, hmm?”
“Yes, hyung,” Jimin responds, letting Namjoon roll on top of him. He lets himself trace his hands down Namjoon’s sides, sliding his hand to Namjoon’s spine until his hands resting at the waistband of Namjoon’s briefs. “Hyung, a-are you gonna...”
“Am I what, Jimin?” Namjoon questions but his smirk tells Jimin he knows exactly what Jimin means. Jimin whines, pouting before pushing at Namjoon’s underwear.
“Are you gonna fuck me, hyung?” Jimin asks, braver this time, the heat’s delirium having worn down. He knows it’s temporary but it’s enough, Namjoon’s eyebrows raising at Jimin's words.
“Didn’t know I had such a greedy little omega on my hands,” Namjoon comments, helping Jimin slip his underwear off. Jimin stares at Namjoon’s cock, hard and red, leaking from the tip and he’s honestly so big it makes Jimin’s ass clench.
“You’re so big, hyung,” Jimin breathes, hand trailing down Namjoon’s torso until he can curl his fingers around Namjoon’s cock. They don’t wrap around fully, and Jimin knows his hands aren’t the biggest but this is ridiculous.
“Imagine how big I’m gonna be inside of you,” Namjoon whispers, pushing Jimin’s legs apart. Jimin’s so wet at this point that slick just drips out of him and he’s slightly mortified but Namjoon’s groaning at the sight of his asshole.
“Your hole is the prettiest, Jimin,” Namjoon compliments, watches Jimin flush bright red as he lines his cock up against Jimin’s entrance. He pushes the tip in slowly, watching Jimin suck in a deep breath, the stretch comfortable, Namjoon’s cock slowly filling Jimin up until Jimin can’t remember to breathe, Namjoon’s cock so thick and big. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight, baby.”
“Hyung, p-please,” Jimin gasps, watches sweat drip down Namjoon’s face, a look of concentrated effort keeping Namjoon still. “F-fuck me, wanna, want you to feel good.”
“Shh,” Namjoon hushes, hands resting on Jimin’s hips as he starts thrusting into Jimin, pace slow, letting Jimin get used to his size. “You good?”
Jimin nods his head, mouth hung open as he groans, barely able to keep his eyes open. Namjoon’s hair is wet with sweat, stuck to his forehead, the breadth of his shoulders stealing Jimin’s breath away. “Faster hyung, ple -- ah!”
“Fuck, you gonna be hyung’s little slut, baby? Do you like my cock that much?” Namjoon asks, thrusting into Jimin harder, the sound of his balls slapping against Jimin’s ass echoing through the room. Jimin’s moans keep getting louder, Namjoon angling Jimin up, draping his legs over Namjoon’s shoulders. “Come on, tell hyung what a little slut you are. Swallowing my dick up so greedily. Your hole’s so wet, Jimin, fucking dripping.”
Jimin whines, high pitched and needy, as he tries to answer. “W-wanna be, hah, hyung’s slut.”
“That’s right,” Namjoon groans, fingers digging into Jimin’s hips harder and Jimin wants it to bruise, wants Namjoon to press his fingers into everywhere Jimin aches. Namjoon’s pounding into him, bed shaking as he fucks Jimin open, and Jimin loves how filthy it sounds. “Just hyung’s, this tight little ass belongs to hyung now.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Jimin chants, sobbing as Namjoon slows his pace down, purposefully dragging his length out of Jimin before slamming back into him. “Just hyung’s, just wanna be yours.”
“God, baby, you’re so good,” Namjoon praises, and Jimin’s sucking in big deep breaths, gasping as Namjoon hits his prostate hard, pace brutal and he’s come so many times already, the sensation keenly painful but his cock’s aching, begging to be touched. “So good for hyung. Such a good boy, everything hyung could ask for.”
“Namjoon,” Jimin groans, closer and closer to coming and he doesn’t know how Namjoon’s lasted so long, wishes Namjoon would touch him. “Wanna come, hyung, p-please, h-hurts.”
“Yeah, baby, of course,” Namjoon says, hand slipping around Jimin’s cock and Jimin hisses, arching off the bed as Namjoon starts to jerk him off, his own thrusts erratic and Jimin can feel the swell of his knot forming, cock snagging on Jimin’s rim as Namjoon fucks into him.
The knot rubs against his prostate mercilessly, swelling bigger and bigger and Jimin’s in tears again, crying out Namjoon’s name as he shudders through his orgasm, dry this time, completely emptied of seed. There’s black spots in his vision, quivering as he rides out his orgasm but Namjoon hasn’t stopped, keeps fucking into Jimin as he squeezes around Namjoon, oversensitive and spent beyond belief.
Hot cum paints his insides, Namjoon still pounding into him and he’s moaning, sounds so pretty that Jimin wishes he could bottle the sound up. He thrusts in slower now, knot filling Jimin up, Namjoon’s cum trapped inside and Jimin groans at the thought. Pulling Namjoon to him, Jimin kisses him lazily, takes his time, Namjoon pulling Jimin in as close as he can. They lie there for a good while, Jimin careful not to move too much, Namjoon’s knot holding him in place.
“God, you’re amazing,” Namjoon groans, kisses Jimin’s jaw. He rubs up and down Jimin’s back, has Jimin lying on top of him now, his heartbeat echoing through Jimin. “Such a good boy for me, so perfect.”
“Hyung,” Jimin whines, drowsy with sleep. “I, I should be thanking you.”
“You don’t thank your alpha,” Namjoon retorts, fingers slipping between Jimin’s cheeks again, tracing the rim of Jimin’s entrance, where his cock’s still inside Jimin.
“That’s silly,” Jimin tells him, but he snuggles into him, comfortable and ready for sleep. Namjoon’s saying something but Jimin doesn’t catch it, blacking out to the feeling of Namjoon’s skin pressed against his own.