Work Text:
Knot Right
_______________________________________________________________________________________
As soon as the apartment door unlocked, Taehyung dropped his shopping bags and ran into his mate’s arms with a whine.
Jimin sighed, bending to pick up the many, many bags Taehyung had abandoned. Struggling to toe off his shoes, he waddled inside behind them. From the corner of his eye, he could see Taehyung and his alpha—and bandmate—Hoseok, rolling around among the scattered bags on the living room floor, scenting each other with abandon. A little help carrying in the mated pair’s heat and rut cycle supplies would’ve been appreciated, but Jimin couldn’t blame them. This close to their cycle, it was hard enough for them to stay apart.
“Are you all packed and ready to go to the hotel tomorrow morning?” Jimin called as he shuffled into the kitchen, setting the bags down on the counter and rubbing the red marks on his arms. Since all seven bandmates shared an apartment, it was best for the couple to stay at a hotel for a few nights when their cycle hit, taking their nesting supplies along with them.
It wasn’t just about convenience, though—it was also about privacy. In their line of work, even the smallest slip—a stray scent clinging to a jacket, for example—could ignite rumors and invasive speculation. The last thing the band needed was a scandal.
Hoseok paused in his playful wrestling to pin Taehyung to the floor, flashing Jimin a bright smile. “All set! Sorry if we’re annoying you, Jiminie.”
Jimin waved them off, already sorting through the bags. “I get it, I get it. You two can’t help the sex craze,” he grumbled under his breath, rubbing his chest as though he could soothe the feelings he’d been shoving down all day.
Luckily, they didn’t hear him, already back to cooing sweet words to each other. Jimin’s heart clenched, and he quickly looked away.
They were the only mated pair in the band—and the only true mate pairing Jimin could ever imagine accepting.
True mates were the cornerstone of alpha and omega relationships. Every alpha and omega had one: the wolf they were destined to connect with on a soul-deep level. The one who would understand them, love them unconditionally, and accept every part of them. This wasn’t just emotional—it was biological. A true mate was the only wolf who could trigger an omega’s heat or an alpha’s rut.
It all sounded romantic in theory. But in practice, Jimin knew the truth. The first mating was often uncontrollable and excruciatingly painful, a torment only eased by the omega being knotted by their alpha. While wolves had plenty of sex before finding their mates, omegas couldn’t produce slick, and alphas couldn’t knot unless it was with their true pairing.
Betas, on the other hand, didn’t have fated mates. With their faint scents and limited reproductive abilities, they rarely triggered heat or rut cycles and typically mated with other betas.
For someone like Jimin—an omega—this system should’ve been a dream. Taehyung’s story was proof of that. When he presented and Hoseok caught a whiff of his scent, all the years of unspoken pining melted away. They were a perfect match, balancing each other in every way. Jimin could have that too. All he had to do was find his alpha.
But it wasn’t that simple. Not when he was already in love with a beta. Not when stupid society and its stupid true mate rules said he couldn’t be with that beta. No, he had to wait—for some stupid alpha, with a stupid painful knot, who probably didn’t have sparkly Bambi eyes.
What did biology have to do with love? He wanted to choose his lover, not be forced into a relationship because of fate and babies.
So Jimin thought true mates were dumb as fuck.
“My sweet Jiminie, thank you for getting stuff for them!” Jin burst into the kitchen, placing a smacking wet kiss on Jimin’s cheek. Their eldest bandmate was a beta, which was perfect for him as Jin kept the rest of them in check with his calm and loving nature. Behind him, Namjoon trailed in, another beta and their band leader. While Namjoon consulted the others on major decisions, he was the one who steered the ship, especially when it came to their music. He ruffled Jimin’s hair affectionately before moving to help unload the bags.
“Their cycle must be close, we should have them leave early tomorrow,” Namjoon said, glancing at Tae and Hoseok who were now cuddling on the couch.
The closer it got to their cycle, the clingier they became—especially omegas. The looming heat seemed to hijack their instincts, driving them into a baby-craze where all they could think about was being bred. Taehyung always said that part was the weirdest for him. Outside of a heat, he rarely gave much thought to having children. But in those moments? It was all-consuming, for both of them.
Jin hummed thoughtfully at Namjoon’s suggestion, pulling a pot from the cabinet and setting it on the stove to start his kimchi stew. “The car’s supposed to come at six in the morning. That should be early enough, don’t you think?”
Jimin nodded, finishing the sorting and helping Namjoon carry the piles to the two open suitcases near the couch. Hoseok peeked out from behind Taehyung’s shoulder, offering a sleepy smile as they approached.
“Oh, just set it there,” Hoseok murmured, waving a hand lazily. “I’ll pack it in a bit.”
Namjoon crouched down, slipping a pillow behind Taehyung’s back and tugging Hoseok’s blanket higher over his shoulders with practiced care. “You two need to stay cozy,” he said gently. “No lifting a finger until tomorrow.”
Taehyung laughed softly, leaning further into Hoseok’s embrace. “We’re not made of glass, you know.”
Hoseok nodded in agreement, though his eyes softened as he caught the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze. “Thanks, Joonie. We appreciate it.”
Jimin’s chest ached as he turned away from the sight, the familiar pang of longing settling like a heavy stone in his stomach. He hated feeling this way—resentful of his friends’ happiness—but no matter how hard he tried, the envy clawed at the edges of his heart.
The way they fit together so perfectly, so effortlessly—it wasn’t fair. He wanted something like that. A mate who looked at him with the same tenderness Hoseok had for Taehyung. But deep down, he feared he’d never find it. Not with Jungkook. Not with anyone.
Unable to keep the bitterness from spilling over, Jimin muttered, “No, no, we’ve got it. You guys are just so special compared to the rest of us.”
His words came out sharper than he intended. The room went still. Hoseok and Taehyung exchanged a glance, their playful smiles faltering.
Namjoon’s hand shot out, giving Jimin’s shoulder a light but pointed shove. “Jimin,” he muttered, a warning in his tone.
Jimin sighed, his face heating with regret. “Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Namjoon studied him for a moment longer, then turned and wandered back into the kitchen to help Jin.
The rest of the packing continued in uncomfortable silence, broken only by the rhythmic chopping of vegetables as Jin prepared dinner. Jimin fell into his thoughts, his hands working on autopilot while his eyes kept drifting to the pair on the couch.
The truth was, Tae and Hoseok were lucky. Mating within the band made everything simpler. While they weren’t world-famous, their growing fanbase meant their lives were always under scrutiny. A mate outside the group would complicate things—sneaking around, constant adjustments to the band’s schedule, and the pressure on the other members to cover for them.
It wasn’t just inconvenient. It was dangerous.
Jimin sighed quietly, his chest tightening as he glanced at the two wolves nestled into each other.
Just another reason why finding his true mate held no appeal. He couldn’t risk it. Not with everything else at stake.
They finished putting everything away and zipped the bags closed, Jimin’s knees creaking as he stood up. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung and Jungkook?” He asked, noticing two of their family were missing from the main area.
“Yoongi’s in his studio. Been there all day, ran inside saying he had our next hit single,” Namjoon said, walking past Jimin to help Jin in the kitchen.
Jimin snorted. It wasn’t unusual for Yoongi to disappear for hours—or days—when inspiration struck. As one of their main producers, alongside Namjoon, Yoongi had an obsessive streak when it came to perfecting their music. And though the band often worried about his health during these intense sessions, they couldn’t argue with the results. Yoongi’s dedication had turned their songs into magic, gaining them loyal fans across Asia after their recent tour.
Their band had started as a joke in high school. None of them had known each other well then, but their shared passion for music brought them together. Over time, their joke became serious. Signing with a small label and moving in together had been a gamble, but one they were all grateful for.
Now, the seven of them felt like a family. Jin and Hoseok handled electric guitar, Yoongi the keyboard, Taehyung the bass, Jungkook the drums, Jimin the lead vocalist, and Namjoon the rapper. It was an unusual setup, but it worked. Their dynamic stood out, and they made a point to give every instrument and member their moment to shine. No one was overshadowed. Fans adored all of them, and their unique sound had started carving a place in the industry.
“I’ll go make sure Yoongi-hyung is still alive,” Jimin joked.
Jin looked over and gave him a grateful smile. “Tell him food will be ready in 30 minutes. He can take it in there if he wants but he must eat it all.”
Jimin nodded. “And Jungkook?”
Jin and Namjoon exchanged a look. It was subtle, but Jimin caught it immediately. His heart skipped, worry flaring in his chest. Jungkook had been irritable lately, snapping at the others—something completely unlike him. Normally, Jungkook was their rock: sweet, dependable, and always willing to help.
“He got a little snippy earlier,” Jin admitted, his tone gentle. “Said he needed some alone time. I think he’d love it if you checked on him, though. He never stays mad at you. The brat plays favorites with his hyungs.”
Jimin puffed up his cheeks. “I’m too cute, no one can be mad at me.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes at the bratty omega but had the fondest smile on his face. He patted Jimin’s butt, sending him down the hall to their individual rooms.
Jimin knew there was no use in knocking on Yoongi’s door. He never heard it, always immersed in his work with his headphones on. Instead, he gently entered, tiptoeing to the corner with Yoongi’s at home music set up, and gently rested his chin atop Yoongi’s head to let him know of his presence.
Yoongi didn’t even flinch, moving one side of his headphones off his ear and turning to look at Jimin. “Hey.”
Yoongi was the other alpha in their band. He had a strong but soft presence, not acting like your typical alpha as he didn’t feel the need to fight for dominance with other alphas or betas. He was quiet, but still had that confidence in himself.
Jimin nuzzled his cheek into Yoongi’s hair fondly. “Hyung, I hear you have our new hit song.”
Yoongi scoffed. “Joon’s just saying shit. It’s still a work in progress.”
Jimin moved around the side of the desk, peering at the monitors. “Does it have a title yet?” He knew better than to ask to listen to it; Yoongi never liked to show his songs to anyone until he was sure they were done.
Yoongi hesitated for a second, his finger pausing from where he was moving the mouse around. “Proof.”
“Proof…” Jimin rolled the title around on his tongue. “It sounds cool, Hyung! I can’t wait to hear it.”
Yoongi nodded, giving Jimin a tired smile. It was clear he didn’t want to speak on it anymore. Jimin straightened up.
“Jin-hyung said dinner should be ready in 30 minutes, and yes, you have to eat. No arguments.”
Yoongi scoffed at that, rolling his eyes as if to say I know, I know.
Jimin began walking to the door, ready to leave, when Yoongi spoke up behind him. “You going to check on Jungkookie?”
Jimin spun. Yoongi was now facing his direction, a knowing smile on his face.
Jimin’s stomach twisted. His feelings for Jungkook were an open secret among the band. It was almost laughable how obvious it was to everyone—except Jungkook himself. Fans even teased them at fan meets, making sly comments about their chemistry. But Jungkook always brushed them off, his mood souring for the rest of the day.
Jimin knew why. The unspoken societal rules still loomed between them: omegas belonged with alphas, not betas. And no matter how much Jimin longed for Jungkook to see him as more than a friend, he feared the younger would never allow himself to cross that line.
Yoongi’s gaze was soft but understanding, as if he knew the battle raging in Jimin’s heart. “Go on,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “He needs you.”
Jimin warmed slightly. Even if Jungkook felt uncomfortable with the idea of their relationship turning romantic, the two of them always had a special bond. They were each other’s comfort people, the two that understood each other like no one else. With a nod, he slipped out of Yoongi’s studio.
He slowly made his way down the hall towards Jungkook’s room at the very end. The door was shut tight, and Jimin could tell the lights were off but he knew Jungkook was likely awake. Sure enough, as he cracked the door open, Jungkook was sitting at his own desk monitor, playing video games. His headphones were also on, but Jimin knew he was aware as soon as Jimin approached the door. Jungkook had a sensitive nose, he could always smell when any of them were nearby.
And as Jimin stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he was enveloped in his own favorite scent. As a beta, Jungkook’s scent was mild, but Jimin found that to be the most comforting. It was the faint, clean and comforting smell of laundry, as if Jungkook was just asking Jimin to hug and cuddle him wherever he went.
Jimin approached Jungkook, resisting the urge to run his hands through Jungkook’s thick black hair. It was unruly at the moment, sticking up around his headphones, but it was always so so soft.
Instead, Jimin placed a gentle hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, asking quietly for his attention.
“I’ll finish this round, Jiminie-hyung,” Jungkook murmured, his voice low and raspy from disuse. It sent a shiver up Jimin’s spine. “Then I’m done, I promise.”
Yeah, Jimin was not convinced at all that he needed an alpha to go into heat. This man did it for him.
Jimin stepped around Jungkook, similar to as he had done with Yoongi, but this time he swung one leg over Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook didn’t flinch—he barely even paused his game. He raised his arms for a moment to make room before resting them back on the keyboard, letting Jimin mold himself against him.
Jimin melted into the touch, sighing softly. He was a naturally affectionate person, prone to clinging to the people he loved, but with Jungkook, it was different. His need to be close to him—to feel his warmth, to bask in his presence—was all-consuming. And the fact that Jungkook never minded, never pushed him away, only made it worse.
Jungkook shifted a bit in his chair, but made sure to firmly grip Jimin’s waist to reposition him comfortably before going back to gaming. Both Jimin and his omega sighed.
He let his cheek press against Jungkook’s head, closing his eyes for a moment to soak in the comfort of his steady presence and the rhythmic tapping of keys. For someone who wasn’t an alpha, Jungkook still managed to make Jimin’s omega instincts purr with satisfaction. His strong frame, his quiet strength—it was all too much and yet not enough.
He was so so in love with this boy.
Honestly, he couldn’t even say when it started. From the moment the band formed, Jimin had always had a soft spot for Jungkook.
He had met Jimin’s family, ate with them back in their shared hometown of Busan, and Jimin had met his. They had traveled the world together, exploring new places and trying new experiences.
He had brought Jimin gifts, shirts he had looked at once but never even mentioned wanting out loud. He made Jimin tea after a long day of rehearsal, when his voice was barely there.
Jungkook had been there for him in his worst moments- his eating disorder, his insecurity with his voice, and his painful presentation. He knew Jimin’s heart and soul, and Jimin knew his. He knew how hard Jungkook was on himself, even though he was always perfect. He knew how much Jungkook loved those close to him, showing it in his quiet ways.
As far as Jimin was concerned, Jungkook was his one and only soulmate. How could someone who understood him so intimately not be his perfect match?
But while Jimin was fairly obvious with his own emotions, he didn’t know if Jungkook felt the same.
Sure, he was more touchy and loving with Jimin than the other bandmates, but he had never flirted or given any indication of romantic attraction.
On top of that, even if Jungkook did feel the same way, Jimin knew he would never do anything about it. Like everyone else, Jungkook gave into the idea of true mates. As a beta, he knew he would never have a true mate, and couldn’t date an omega or alpha. He always encouraged Jimin to find his own alpha. Jimin knew he would never be able to date Jungkook, because the younger would constantly feel guilty for “holding Jimin back”.
“What’s wrong? You’re extra clingy tonight.”
Jungkook’s soft voice startled him from his head, not having noticed the game was long over, the monitor turned off. Jimin felt himself flush in embarrassment as he realized had been subconsciously scenting Jungkook, rubbing his nose into his warm neck. While they did it occasionally, it was in moments of emotional distress that they asked for it.
Jimin buried his face more firmly into the soft skin, trying to hide. Jungkook ran a slow hand up Jimin’s thigh soothingly, causing goosebumps all along Jimin’s skin.
“It’s just always a bit weird when Hobi and Tae go off for a cycle,” He replied at last, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Jungkook hummed, then turned quiet. His hand continued soothing circles on Jimin’s thigh. Finally, he spoke up again. “Is it because of the true mate thing again?”
Jimin let a big huff out his nose. It was impossible to hide from his bandmates, let alone Jungkook. “I guess,” he admitted reluctantly. I’m happy for them, of course - they’re the cutest couple. I just…You know I just don’t believe in true mate shit in general.”
Another hum, quieter this time. Jungkook’s hand slowed on Jimin’s thigh, resting there warmly.
“Well…” Jungkook began, his tone careful and almost hesitant. “I know it’s a bit weird to think about. But, Hyung… anyone would be so lucky to have you as their mate. Don’t you want that? To find your perfect match and be like Hoseok and Tae?”
Jimin froze, his heart giving a painful squeeze in his chest. The words were right there, so obvious and so overwhelming.
No. I only want you.
But he couldn’t say it. His silence stretched long enough for Jungkook to take it as rebellion, his crooked grin softening the tension in the air.
He groaned dramatically, stretching his arms over his head before standing, lifting Jimin in one smooth motion. Jungkook’s hands were large and steady on Jimin’s ribcage, and the omega was struck once again by how they nearly wrapped all the way around him. Jungkook set him on his feet gently, like Jimin was something delicate and precious.
With a sheepish rub of the back of his neck, Jungkook muttered, “Dinner’s probably ready by now, but… I don’t know. It’s been hard for me to be around a lot of people lately. I don’t know why.”
Jungkook flushed, a deep pink rising to his cheeks and ears. His gaze flickered away, but Jimin couldn’t look anywhere else. He wanted so badly to cup Jungkook’s face, to tell him it was okay, that everyone felt overwhelmed sometimes.
But before he could say anything, Jungkook continued, his voice soft and hesitant. “I was gonna just eat in my room. Do you… want to eat here with me?”
Jimin’s heart all but melted into a puddle right there. Jungkook’s vulnerability, his quiet offer to share something so simple yet intimate, was too much for Jimin’s already fragile emotions.
“I’d love to,” Jimin said, his voice warm and soft. “I think I’d also like some quiet tonight.”
The way Jungkook’s face lit up was enough to steal the air from Jimin’s lungs. His big, doe eyes practically glowed, holding galaxies that Jimin swore he’d spend lifetimes exploring. He scrunched his nose as he beamed, an expression so achingly pure that Jimin almost wanted to cry.
“I’ll go get us plates,” Jungkook said brightly, already stepping toward the door. “Wait here, Hyung.”
And then he was gone, his footsteps fading down the hall.
Jimin let himself collapse onto Jungkook’s bed, burying his face in the soft fabric of the sheets. The familiar scent of clean laundry wrapped around him, and he inhaled deeply, hoping the smell would stick to his skin and linger for the rest of the night.
He closed his eyes, clutching the blanket tightly.
There were moments when he thought he could live off these small, stolen pieces of Jungkook’s world forever. But tonight, as his heart ached with unspoken words and impossible hopes, he wondered how much longer he could hold himself back from wanting more.
***
The cheers from the audience were deafening, despite the fact that it wasn’t a large venue. Jimin felt both thankful and pressured by the intense support from their fanbase. Small but mighty, he constantly pushed himself to be better for them, to be worthy of their support. They all did.
He adjusted his in-ear monitor, the faint crackle of the band’s cues bringing him back to reality. Peering out at the sea of a few thousand faces, Jimin’s stomach churned. Their new single, Proof , had just dropped, and the fans were ready to hear it live for the first time. Yoongi had finished the song mere days after Jimin checked in on him during one of his late-night composing sessions. From recording to the music video release, the entire process had been a whirlwind, wrapping up in just over a month.
The response to the single had been overwhelmingly positive. Social media was ablaze with praise, even pulling in non-fans who were impressed by the song’s depth and the group’s talent. Yet, despite the glowing reception, Jimin’s nerves gnawed at him.
What if my performance isn’t good enough?
What if my voice cracks?
What if I disappoint the fans? Or worse, the members?
“What if—”
“Hyung, are you ready?”
Jimin spun around and of course, Jungkook was standing there, concerned in his eyes.
He looked sexy, as he always did before a stage. His eyes were darkened with makeup, black hair styled in a half-pony, showing off the glimmering piercing in his ears. A leather jacket emphasized his broad shoulders, while skinny jeans showed off his waist. Everything about him screamed confident rockstar, but the soft worry in his gaze was pure, unchanging Jungkook.
Jimin knew his usually sweet scent had likely rotted, giving away his distress. Beyond Jungkook, the other band members looked patiently at Jimin, letting him have a moment before they did their group pep-talk.
Jimin cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He moved to walk past, but Jungkook’s warm hand landed on his shoulder, halting him gently. The touch was grounding, steady, and Jimin turned back to meet those familiar doe eyes.
“Jiminie-hyung,” Jungkook said softly, his thumb brushing once against Jimin’s jacket. “I know you’ll do great. Just focus on having fun, and you’ll shine no matter what.”
The words were simple, something Jungkook had told him countless times, but they melted the tension in Jimin’s chest. It was impossible not to feel comforted when Jungkook looked at him like that, unwavering and full of belief.
Jimin felt his brow soften. Without thinking, he rose onto his tiptoes and ran his nose lightly along Jungkook’s scent gland, inhaling deeply. The comforting notes of musk and warmth instantly steadied his rapid heartbeat. “Thank you,” he whispered, brushing a quick, feather-light kiss against the skin before pulling away.
Jungkook’s ears flushed red, but he said nothing as the two moved to join the group again.
“Alright, tonight’s the first time we perform Proof. The fans are so excited, so we need to make sure to have high energy and give it our all for that performance.” Namjoon looked each member in the eye as he spoke.
“Remember to take care of yourselves, though. Proof is the last song and we don’t need anyone passing out from exhaustion beforehand,” Hoseok chimed in, ruffling Jin’s hair next to him.
Yoongi nodded, his eyes dark and alight with excitement, accentuated by the dark makeup around them. He interlocked his fingers, stretching them out, ready to hop on stage and play.
“Alright, hands in then. Let’s burn the stage!” Namjoon smirked, teeth glinting. He put one hand in, and the rest of them quickly followed, stacking them.
“Bangtan, Bangtan, Bangbangtan!”
The roar of the crowd was deafening as the curtains rose. The spotlight highlighted Jin and Hobi, who started with a guitar riff for their first song. Their grins were wild as they turned smoldering gazes on the audience, fingers plucking expertly without even looking.
Then, the light flicked onto Jungkook, the drum picking up. He spun one around in his fingers, the crowd going wild as they watched his arm veins and tattooed fingers.
Then Yoongi and Tae, who looked at each other, performed together for the audience. They grinned and played off each other’s melodies, bringing the energy up.
Finally, the heat flooded Jimin. He looked up at the audience through his lashes, grabbing the mic stand and body rolling closer as he began to sing.
The performance flew by, each moment a blur of lights, sound, and adrenaline. By the time they reached Proof , the crowd was singing along to every word, despite the song being barely 24 hours old. The band’s dynamic shone brightly—casual, chaotic, and entirely them .
At one point, Taehyung poured water down Jungkook’s back, earning a sharp yelp and a chase that sent the two weaving through the others. Jungkook eventually managed to splash Taehyung in retaliation, the crowd screaming with laughter.
When Jungkook returned to the stage’s edge, soaked but grinning, he abandoned his drums to dance with the fans. He flicked his wet hair at the front row, sending them into hysterics, before spinning into fluid, magnetic movements that stole the spotlight. He was fire incarnate, burning brightly and setting the stage ablaze.
When the set ended, they stumbled backstage, sweaty and exhilarated. Jimin dropped onto the nearest couch, his chest heaving as he shared a breathless grin with Jungkook.
“You were amazing out there,” Jungkook said, his voice low but sincere.
Jimin didn’t answer immediately, but the look he gave Jungkook said everything.
They were a team, a family—and tonight, they had burned brighter than ever.
***
A few weeks later Jimin was with five of his other bandmates in the living room, packing up their bags for a performance day. They were heading to the venue early to practice, then would have a bit of time to eat and do their hair and makeup before the show.
The day’s performance loomed ahead, and while excitement buzzed faintly beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. Performance days were like this, each member retreating into their own thoughts, mentally preparing to give their all on stage.
Jimin tugged an oversized hoodie over his head, the soft fabric brushing against his skin. It was Jungkook’s hoodie—he’d stolen it ages ago, but he wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone, least of all Jungkook. As he adjusted the hem, Hoseok’s voice cut through the quiet.
“Where’s Jungkook? I haven’t seen him all morning?”
Jimin’s head snapped up, concern prickling in his chest. Jungkook’s behavior had been erratic lately—grumpy, argumentative, and, most troubling of all, uncharacteristically tired. He’d even run a fever a few times but brushed it off, insisting he was fine.
Yoongi shrugged, barely looking up from where he was meticulously wrapping cables for his equipment. “Dunno. Hope he’s up. The company car will be here in ten minutes.”
Hoseok sighed, exasperation evident as he dropped his bag with a dull thud. “That kid. If he’s still sleeping, I swear I’ll beat his ass.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed down the hall.
In hindsight, perhaps Jimin should have gone himself. Everyone was already on edge, and Jungkook’s mood was worse with some of the other members, especially the alpha ones. Almost as if he was challenging them, not wanting to submit the same way he used to. It was so weird from the usually gentle and docile beta.
A sharp, angry shout jolted them all. “Jeon Jungkook!”
The band scrambled to follow, unease propelling them down the hallway. They skidded to a halt in the doorway of Jungkook’s room, where Hoseok stood, visibly livid. Jungkook, meanwhile, sat slouched on his bed, hair a wild mess and still dressed in his sleep clothes. The unzipped duffle bag by his feet was untouched.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Hoseok growled, voice tight with restrained fury.
Jungkook met his gaze with a blank stare. “What do you mean?”
Hoseok’s scent shifted, becoming dark and filling up every spare space. As an omega, Jimin felt himself subconsciously wanting to submit even though it wasn’t directed at him, curling in on himself and leaning into Jin. Next to him, Taehyung did the same leaning into Yoongi.
“We need to leave in ten minutes and your lazy ass isn't even up! Are you trying to ruin our performance?”
That was the wrong thing to say. While Jungkook had been going through a rough patch, they all knew he would never do anything to jeopardize the group. He loved performing, and he loved the fans, and he would never stray from that.
“Fuck off! I know what time we have to leave, I’m not an idiot. I can get ready quick and not take hours unlike your slow ass,” He retorted, eyes narrowing. Jin quietly gasped behind Jimin.
Hoseok didn’t hesitate. In a flash, he crossed the room and pinned Jungkook to the bed, hands gripping his shoulders. His weight and dominant scent flooded the room, oppressive and commanding. Jimin curled in further, his heart racing.
“What did you say to your hyung?” Hoseok’s voice dropped into a dangerous whisper.
Jungkook flinched, his bravado crumbling in an instant. His gaze dropped to the side, and his voice came out quiet, subdued. “I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t mean it.”
The tension held for a beat longer before Hoseok released him, stepping back with a stern look. The burnt tang of his anger lingered in the air, though it had lessened. Jungkook rubbed his shoulder, eyes darting briefly toward the rest of the group before falling back to the blankets he clutched in his fists.
Now that he was free, Jungkook seemed to finally notice the other members lingering in the hallway. He flushed bright red, making brief eye contact with them before looking down at the blanket and beginning to pick at invisible threads.
“Alright, we can’t ignore it anymore,” Hoseok started, no longer angry but still firm. “I thought maybe this was something that would pass, but it’s clear it isn’t going to. Jungkook, what’s going on with you lately?”
Jungkooks shrugged, but the movement was guarded. He refused to look up as he muttered, “Don’t know.”
“Well help us understand. Is something going on in your head? Do you need to talk to someone, maybe a professional?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“It’s affecting the team, Jungkook. We know something is wrong with you and I’m sure you’re struggling, but the band can’t keep having your attitude like this. It’s gonna start affecting our work.”
“I said I don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. This.”
He still didn’t look up, but Jungkook’s words were punched out of him sharply.
Jimin clasped his hands, heart aching. He wanted so badly to hug their youngest. He understood where Hoseok was coming from in trying to have this hard talk, but Jimin knew that something was wrong, Jungkook was sick, and it couldn’t be fixed with a talk. It wasn’t just him acting up, he needed help and love and-
“Fine, we can put this off for now. We have to focus on the show. But later we will discuss this.” Hoseok’s tone left no room for argument. Jungkook continued staring down but didn’t rebuttal.
“Perhaps it’s best if Jungkook doesn’t do too much interacting with fans today. Other than when we do our speeches, perhaps he should just stay on the drums,” Namjoon piped in softly from the doorway.
Jungkook’s fists tightened on his blanket, his knuckles turning while.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Hoseok agreed.
Jungkook’s hands began shaking. “Fine.”
The silence that followed was heavy, each of the members lingering awkwardly for a beat too long before quietly dispersing. Jimin stayed behind, standing in the doorway with his fingers fidgeting against the hem of his hoodie. He couldn’t shake the ache in his chest, the persistent thought that maybe—just maybe—he could help. That he could somehow fix whatever was wrong.
But Jungkook didn’t make it easy.
The younger suddenly stood, his movements sharp and almost aggressive as he began making his bed. The sheets were pulled taut with more force than necessary, his eyes flicking to Jimin as if daring him to speak. When Jimin didn’t, Jungkook rolled his eyes, a harsh scoff leaving his lips.
“What?” he snapped. “You have something to yell at me for too?”
The bite in his tone cut deeper than it should have. Jimin flinched, his heart sinking. “No,” he mumbled, barely audible, before turning on his heel and speed-walking down the hall. His chest felt tight, his eyes stupidly beginning to sting with tears he refused to let fall.
It’s fine, he told himself, clutching his hoodie sleeves. Jungkook’s just going through something. Just because he’s never snapped at you before doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen eventually. He’s probably just defensive from getting scolded. It’s not personal.
He repeated the words like a mantra, but they didn’t ease the sting in his chest.
A few minutes later, Jungkook brushed past the group without a word, his movements brisk and agitated. He was the first one out the door, practically running down the steps to the waiting van. Sliding into the farthest back corner, he pulled a bucket hat low over his head, the brim shadowing his face as he turned to stare out the window.
Jimin hurried after him, jogging slightly as he called over his shoulder. “Hey, can someone grab my bag for me?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead focused on catching up to Jungkook.
Sliding into the seat beside him, Jimin hesitated for a moment before settling in. Their thighs brushed faintly, the contact brief and featherlight. Jungkook didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on the scenery outside. Jimin took it as a good sign—a small opening—and cautiously reached for Jungkook’s hand. His fingers brushed the warm skin of Jungkook’s palm, tentative and careful, but before he could fully clasp it—
Jungkook flinched, jerking his hand away as if burned. He cradled it to his chest, his body curling slightly inward.
Jimin froze, his breath catching in his throat. His chest felt like it had caved in, and he turned his face toward the front of the van, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to spill. His hands curled into fists on his lap, fingers trembling as he fought to keep his composure.
Jungkook cleared his throat, the sound rough and gruff. When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper, quieter, but no less cutting. “Sorry, Hyung. I just… need some space right now.”
Jimin nodded, the motion small and stiff, his throat too tight to respond. He kept his head down, letting his bangs fall forward to shield his face. He didn’t need anyone noticing the tears that were still stubbornly pooling in his eyes.
The rest of the group climbed into the van, their voices a soft hum of activity as they loaded their bags and settled into their seats. Jimin barely registered it, too consumed by the sting of rejection.
Why does this hurt so much?
He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to disappear. It’s fine. He just wants space. He’s not rejecting you, not really. Friends need space sometimes—it’s normal. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. He’s not even yours to reject.
But the ache in his chest wouldn’t go away. No matter how much Jimin tried to rationalize it, the pain lingered, stubborn and raw. All he wanted was to be there for Jungkook, to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. But Jungkook didn’t want that—not from him, at least.
And that realization hurt more than Jimin was ready to admit.
***
It probably should have been a warning sign to Jimin that things went relatively well after that.
The rehearsal and getting ready was great. Jungkook stayed to the side, but he didn’t snap at anyone anymore as they all gave him his space.
Jimin felt a bit better because while Jungkook still seemed a bit fidgety, constantly moving around and taking walks around the venue, he wasn’t as aggravated. He just seemed…uncomfortable in his own body.
When it came time for the concert, Jungkook silently joined their circle before going up on stage and taking his spot. Everyone performed well. Jungkook’s speeches went normally, and although he never got up from his drumset the fans didn’t seem to notice as he winked and smirked at them as normal.
“Again, thank you so much, and I love you all so much!” Jimin announced into the mic as he finished up his speech. The crowd went wild, and he raised a hand to silence them again. “This is the last song of the night, and our newest release. I hope you all enjoy, here’s “Proof.”’
The melody started and Namjoon began his opening rap. Jimin used his spare time to go around to the side of the stage, a part of the audience that he hadn’t interacted with as much that night. He reached a hand out, touching a fan who screamed, her friends jumping up and down and trying to grab Jimin’s hand as well.
He laughed, but heard the chorus approaching and went to move back to his spot.
That’s when he first smelt it.
It was faint, almost a whisper, there and gone in an instant. But it stayed with him, a scent that sank deep into his lungs and curled low in his belly. Crisp leather, smoky and rich, with a sharp undercurrent of gasoline. Jimin froze for a fraction of a second, blinking as his head felt momentarily light.
What was that?
He shook it off, forcing himself to focus. Scents were always stronger at concerts, the heat and sweat of thousands of bodies packed into one space made sure of that. But this scent felt different. It wasn’t from the crowd; it was too specific, too consuming. Still, he pushed the thought away and returned to the mic, diving back into the lyrics.
He made it all the way to the second chorus when it hit again, this time a bit stronger. Jimin’s voice cracked a bit on the words, breath stuttering as he inhaled deeply.
He looked around the room, then at his bandmates, but no one else seemed affected.
Another huge wave hit, and Jimin’s head filled with fog. He found himself breathing deeper, wanting more of the dark scent in his lungs.
Alpha.
The word pulsed through his brain, primal and instinctual. Jimin could barely see the crowd anymore, the cheers and lights fading into a dull haze. His lips moved, singing on autopilot, but his focus was entirely elsewhere. The scent curled tighter around him, possessive and overwhelming, and he felt his body respond in kind.
His heart jolted when the scent spiked, tinged with the faintest edge of arousal. It was fleeting, but the effect was immediate—a low, hot ache thrumming through Jimin’s body.
And then, it happened.
A warm, sticky slick began pooling between his thighs, sliding down in slow, mortifying rivulets. Jimin’s breath hitched, his cheeks burning with shame and confusion. He had never slicked before, not like this, and the sensation was impossible to ignore. It felt cool against his overheated skin, the contrast making him shiver.
No, no, no.
He clenched his thighs together, desperate to stop the flow, but his body wasn’t listening. The scent flared again, dark and enticing, and his gut tightened with a surge of need so intense it stole his breath.
Alpha, more more more.
Jimin bolted off the stage, panting and groaning as he clutched his stomach. Wave after wave of cramps rolled through him, relentless and unbearable. He barely noticed the slick streaming down his thighs, the sticky sensation only adding to his humiliation. He thought he heard Taehyung calling his name, but it was muffled, insignificant compared to the primal, all-consuming ache in his body.
Ignoring everyone—his bandmates, the staff, the faint chatter of concern following him—Jimin sprinted down the hall. His instincts guided him to the breakroom, the only semi-private place he could think of in his dazed state. He staggered inside, the familiar space a blur, and immediately started searching. He needed something soft , something to hold, something to bury himself into.
Oh no. Was he… nesting ?
He paused, staring at the hoodie he’d tossed on the couch earlier. Without thinking, he lunged for it, clutching it tightly to his chest. A pitiful whine escaped his lips as he curled around a pillow, inhaling deeply and trembling. The memory of the alpha’s scent crashed into him again—dark leather, smoky and heady, overwhelming in its potency. It was all he could think about, all he wanted.
His hips moved involuntarily, grinding against the pillow beneath him. The friction sent a fleeting jolt of relief through his aching body, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
“Oh no. He’s in heat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Look at him! He’s a mess.”
Jimin felt himself flush a bit as he realized he was not alone in the room, his members having followed him back. Still, even as he tried to get his hips to stop he couldn’t. It was the only thing relieving the throbbing in his gut.
He tried to make the movements more subtle as he peered up at Tae through watery eyes, his fellow omega. “Alpha!”
Tae cooed at Jimin, running forward to run a hand along his sweaty forehead. “Jimin, sweetheart, did you find an alpha tonight that smelt really good?”
Jimin groaned. “Yes yes yes yes!”
Namjoon stepped forward. “Jimin, do you realize what’s going on?”
Jimin ignored him, grinding a bit deeper as he groaned.
Alpha.
A harsh hand grabbed the back of his head, pulling him up to sit by his hair. Jimin yelped in pain, grabbing at the wrist and trying to free himself.
“Jimin! Focus! We need to talk to you so we can figure out who it is!”
Jimin’s eyes came into full focus for the first time since he had caught the scent, meeting Yoongi’s concerned eyes. The embarrassment hit him fully this time, aware of all his grinding and his tears and his sticky thighs.
He no longer felt aroused, just…gross.
He cleared his throat, slowing his breathing. Jin handed him a bottle of water, which he eagerly gulped down. The coldness in his throat helped focus him a bit more.
Although the painful cramps didn’t stop. He brought his knees to his chest, gripping tightly as he winced.
“Sorry, I’m here.”
Hoseok sighed and stepped back. “Jimin, you found your true mate.”
What?!
“What?!” Jimin shouted. But really, he should have known. It was the only logical explanation for his behavior. The sudden slick, the floaty headspace. He winced.
“Calm down, I know you don’t feel great right now, but I promise you it will be great once we grab him and he can knot you. The first time you have a heat, one knot will usually bring you back down,” Tae said, stroking his head.
Jimin felt a rock settle in his stomach. He moved away from Tae’s hand. “I don’t want a mate. You know how I feel about that shit.”
“Jimin-”
“No!” He cut off Namjoon harshly. “This just proves my point even more. I don’t want to become vulnerable and insane for someone I don’t know. I don’t want a mate. Let’s just go home.”
The others exchanged glances, and Jimin felt like a child being scolded. Another cramp hit, and he groaned a bit at the strike of pain.
“We can’t go home until we find him. Without a knot, your heat won’t go away for a week. It’ll be extremely painful and gross like this for seven whole days,” Hoseok said.
Jimin scoffed. “This is so fucking stupid.” His breath wooshed out of him. Another stab. “I doubt a strange gross knot will help. I’ll be fine on my own, take me home.”
“Jimin.” Namjoon’s voice was in leader mode, holding no room for argument. “We are not going to let you suffer like this. We need to find the alpha before we go.”
Jimin’s hands were white, shaking in pain as he stared and Namjoon stared into each other's eyes. A drop of sweat rolled down his neck as another wave of heat hit him.
“I don’t even know who he is,” Jimin finally spat out.
They all relaxed at Jimin’s unspoken agreement.
“Well, it has to have been someone who was near the stage at the time of the final song,” Jin started, voice soothing. “So, we make sure none of the floor audience leaves yet. From there, we narrow down all the unmated, young alphas who haven’t found their true match yet.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes. He hated when they were logical. “And how do I know which one is the one. ”
Jin, who had no experience as he also hadn’t found his true mate, turned to Tae and Hoseok.
Hoseok stroked his chin in thought. “Well, usually you can kind of tell by scent. But the only way to truly test if it is your mate and not just someone who smells good…is to see if they knot.”
“What!?” Jimin screeched, going to stand up but falling back as his legs wobbled. He gripped his stomach again, panting. “I-I’m not sleeping with a b-bunch of random alphas!”
Hoseok looked sympathetic. He winced. “I know, I know. But it’s the only way. Jimin, you can’t be miserable like this for a whole week. You’d pass out from the pain.”
“Then I’ll pass out! I’m not doing it!”
“Shhhhh…” Taehyung cooed, grabbing a tissue and wiping sweat from Jimin’s forehead. “I think I have a compromise. Usually, a good handjob using your own slick can get the alpha to knot, especially the first time since you are both extra pent up.”
Yoongi looked at Hoseok in surprise. “Really? Would that work?”
Hoseok’s ears went a bit red. “Yeah, he’s right. The first time mates find each other they are so aroused that it should work.”
Five pairs of heads swiveled to look at Jimin, waiting.
He sighed, anger and embarrassment and sadness flooding through him. “Fine. I’ll give the damn handjobs.”
“With slick,” Tae reminded, reaching over to begin helping Jimin out of his skinny jeans. He let him keep his now drenched underwear on, before laying him back on the couch.
“Namjoon and I will go find who could possibly be his true mate,” Yoongi said, and the two quickly left.
“Where’s Jungkook?” Jin asked, frowning as he scanned the room, just now noticing the youngest’s absence.
Hoseok shrugged. “Maybe in the bathroom?”
The question sent a pang through Jimin’s chest. He felt both relieved and hurt by Jungkook’s absence. On one hand, he couldn’t bear for Jungkook to see him like this—vulnerable and needy for someone else. But on the other…he wanted Jungkook’s comfort more than anything. A part of him whispered that one touch from Jungkook could soothe the fire raging inside him.
***
By the time Joon and Yoongi came back, Jimin was thinking maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to try.
The cramps were getting so bad he could barely drink any water without wanting to throw up. They decided to stop trying after the last time when Jimin gagged and could barely swallow the smallest sip that Tae fed him.
So he continued to pant, clutching the pillow to his chest as wave after wave rolled out of him, his underwear completely drenched by now, soaking the couch underneath him as well. The venue staff would probably have to throw it out, but Jimin couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad at that moment
A knock at the door had him lifting his head from where he kept it between his legs. Yoongi poked his head in, giving Jimin a pitying look. “We found five alphas that fit the…criteria.”
Jimin sighed, slowly unfurling his legs. “Alright.”
“Can we send the first one in?” He asked hesitantly, gripping the doorframe. Jimin nodded, but didn't’ feel much hope.
Yoongi stepped aside to let the first alpha enter. The guy was young, probably 19 or 20, just starting to present. He was scrawny, with a bowl cut and clothes that made him look like a kid who hadn’t quite figured out how to dress yet. His hands were clenched in front of him, eyes darting around the room, unable to settle on Jimin for long.
Jimin's heart sank a little. He felt vulnerable, exposed. It wasn’t lost on him that this alpha might have come to see a concert, only to find himself now facing a half-naked Jimin, wracked with heat. It felt like a new low.
He forced himself to breathe, his voice strained but trying to sound polite. “Come here. Let’s get this over with.”
The young alpha came to stand in front of him, still not making eye contact. Every eye was on them. Jimin felt his lips raise.
“I’m not doing this with the rest of you in here! Go wait outside!”
His bandmates scurried away, Tae scrambling off the couch and offering for the alpha to sit there instead. He did, hovering on the edge as far away from Jimin as he could. The door shut, leaving them alone.
Neither spoke again. Jimin already had a feeling this wasn’t going to work, it didn’t feel anything but painfully awkward.
He swallowed his pride and tried to make his voice sound polite. “Hello, sorry that I won’t be able to talk much.” The guy nodded, glancing at his face, then his nipples, then his crotch, and back up. Jimin grit his teeth. “You know what we have to do, right? And you consent?”
The alpha nodded and finally squeaked out, “yes.”
God, his voice hadn’t fully become deep either. “Alright, I guess we will get started then, do you mind taking out your….er….”
The guy took pity on Jimin, unzipping his pants and pulling his dick out the top of his boxers. It was small for an alpha, probably didn’t help that it was completely soft, the alpha not affected by Jimin’s nakedness or his scent whatsoever.
He couldn’t blame him. If he wasn’t starting a heat he probably wouldn’t be aroused either.
“Alright, here I go,” Jimin said as he reached behind himself to scoop up slick from his own hole, cringing at the words after. Here I go? God, this was his worst nightmare.
And by far his worst handjob. Jimin had given a few in his day, having a few sexual partners for release over the years. And he was quite proud of the fact that his skills were always praised, in all areas. But this was just horrible.
Jimin slowly moved his wet hand up and down the man’s cock, occasionally playing with the balls and tightening extra to twist gently around the tip. While he did so, painful cramps continued to wrack his frame, his non-handjob hand still pressed into his abdomen. The only noises were the wetness of his hand moving and the pained whimpers he let out.
They still didn’t make eye contact.
After about five minutes, when the guy had only gotten half hard, Jimin decided it was enough. There was no way he was cumming, let alone knotting.
“Well, safe to say you’re not tied to me and free,” Jimin tried to joke, but it fell flat as he wiped his sticky hand on a towel Hoseok had left on the other side of the couch.
The guy barely smiled before he zipped up his pants and ran out the room.
Five pairs of questioning eyes stared at him hopefully from the now open door frame. Jimin shook his head. “No. Send in the next, I guess.”
The next four were much the same. A few of the alphas took the opportunity to shamelessly stare at Jimin (at least they thought his face was pretty if nothing else), and some got fully hard but never seemed into it beyond the basic pleasure of something rubbing their dick.
Jimin sent them all away after five minutes with each one.
The worst was the overly large and hairy alpha, who oozed arrogance. He strutted in like he owned the place, his body already stiff with arousal. But it wasn’t Jimin who seemed to excite him. He looked at Jimin like a target, muttering degrading words under his breath. When Jimin moved his hand along the alpha’s shaft, the man leaned in close, his breath hot against Jimin’s ear. “You like that, you omega bitch?”
The words cut deep, and Jimin’s eyes flashed with fury. His heart pounded, a surge of defiance rising in his chest. No alpha of his would ever speak to him that way.
“Get out,” Jimin hissed, his voice cold and cutting. The alpha paused, a smirk on his lips, clearly thinking Jimin was playing a game. But when he saw the fire in Jimin’s eyes, he quickly zipped up and scurried out of the room without another word.
“None? Really?” Hoseok said as he ran back to Jimin’s side, placing an ice pack he had found while outside on Jimin’s head. He moaned as the cold touched his forehead, slouching down.
“I think that was everyone that was here…we could try and see if anyone else is out there?” Yoongi asked, already walking backwards to head out. Jimin shook his head, muscles slouching. He felt himself becoming small, curling in on himself.
The room was suddenly too bright, too cold, it didn’t smell right. It wasn’t comfortable, there were no blankets and pillows that smelled nice, no plushies to cuddle. None of his favorite foods or drinks.
The fight left him.
Now he just felt unsafe, vulnerable and gross and alone.
“I…I want to go home. I don’t want to be here, Hyungs. Want my nest, my bed. Please…Please don’t make me stay here.” Tears filled his eyes suddenly, his wolf in him howling pathetically.
Jin sighed, picking Jimin’s shirt back up and handing it to him. “Oh, my baby. I’m sorry this is happening. We can go home now.” He looked at the others who quickly nodded in agreement.
It was a flurry after that, everyone packing up quickly. They let Jimin rest, doing all the work, and soon Hoseok was picking him up, carrying Jimin on his back. Jimin looped his arms around his neck, closing his eyes as he was carried.
“Is Jungkook still not here? Does anyone know where he is?”
“I checked the bathroom, he wasn’t there. Do you think he ran off? He was in a mood earlier.”
“I guess we'll just have to call his name until we find him. He wouldn’t have run off, no matter what he’s going through.”
Jimin’s chest tightened. Jungkook had been struggling too, but everyone had been so focused on Jimin’s heat that no one had checked on him. Jimin’s mind raced with worry, guilt gnawing at him. They hadn’t even thought about where Jungkook could’ve gone.
“I can take Jimin to the car,” Hoseok said, moving towards the exit with Jimin still on his back. But Jimin stopped him, a flicker of resolve in his tired eyes.
“I’m okay… I want to help find Jungkookie,” Jimin said softly. “We need to make sure he’s okay too.”
Hoseok hesitated but nodded. “Let’s be quick then.”
The team moved as one through the hallways, calling their youngest’s name. Luckily, it wasn’t a big place, and they knew that at some point Jungkook would hear them calling.
They checked the bathroom, then backstage. Then they went to the front, which was now cleared of fans, and called his name.
Nothing.
Jin’s brow was furrowed, his mild scent souring. “Jungkook! Jungkook, are you okay?”
Still, no answer.
They moved to their last hallway, Hoseok still holding tightly to Jimin on his back. It was a dead end, dimly lit and musty smelling. A mop and bucket sat in the hallway, one door at the end that was labeled with a fading “Janitor’s closet.”
“Jungkook? Are you here?” Namjoon called, leading the pack down the hall towards the door.
Silence for a moment as they all held their breath.
Then, a faint, gruff, “Joon-hyung?”
Jimin stiffened at the voice. It was definitely Jungkook, but there was something different about it. Deeper, gruffer, laced with a hint of panic that made his pulse spike. His whole body instinctively responded, and he felt his hole clench, an involuntary reaction that only amplified his confusion.
“Jungkook?! We’ve been so worried! Are you okay? Why are you here?” Namjoon called out, his voice filled with concern. He rushed to the door, gripping the handle and jiggling it, frustration marking his tone. “Can you open the door?”
“Hyung… Something’s happened… I don’t know how but…” Jungkook’s voice broke as he spoke, and Jimin’s heart thudded painfully in his chest.
Jimin’s nails dug into Hoseok’s shoulder in reflex. Hoseok looked back in surprise at the omega clinging to him, but Jimin’s gaze was locked on the door, his stare intense as though he could see Jungkook standing there. His breath caught, the anticipation building with every second.
“It’s okay, we will figure this all out,” Namjoon’s voice softened, his calm trying to ease Jungkook’s evident distress. “Let’s go home, where it’s comfortable and safe. Then we’ll talk, okay?” Namjoon tried once more, tugging at the handle, but the door refused to budge.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then came the rough, reluctant reply. “Okay.” The sound of the door unlocking echoed in the room, and Jimin’s heart skipped a beat as the door creaked open.
Nobody moved for a moment, then a rough, “Okay,” and the door clicked open.
Jungkook stepped out of the darkness, his frame coming into view, and although he looked the same as he had an hour ago, he was so different.
His presence was so much larger, filling the hallway. He seemed to rival Namjoon’s size, and there was something wild about him, a new beast in him as he stared at them all with dark eyes, black hair sticking up around his head.
It took a second for the scent to hit.
Leather and gasoline.
Jimin reeled back, making Hoseok stumble as the scent hit him. He was instantly gone again, vision blurring, the omega in him howling.
Mine.
“Jungkook…you presented?”
“But he’s way past the presenting age!”
“Late presenters are rare but not unheard of.”
“You’re an alpha?!”
The voices of his bandmates were distant, lost in the haze of his own racing thoughts. His eyes locked with Jungkook’s, and for the first time, the weight of their gaze on each other felt like an electric charge running between them. Jungkook’s dark eyes never wavered from Jimin’s face, his body stiffening.
Jungkook growled, a low, desperate sound, and that was all it took.
Jimin struggled, desperately trying to wiggle off of Hoseok’s back. Hoseok held on tighter, whipping his head around to try and look at the omega on his back. “Jimin, what-”
Jimin let out his own whine, high and needy, and dug his nails into Hoseok’s shoulders. He hissed, finally dropping Jimin’s legs, who shoved him aside. Jimin sprinted forward, locked on the dark eyes ahead, mind only thinking one thing.
Alpha. My Alpha.
Without hesitating, he leaped onto Jungkook, legs and arms wrapping around his waist and nose immediately going into his neck. The scent flooded him, and Jimin felt himself relax for the first time since he had entered heat. Jungkook wrapped his arms under Jimin, grabbing his butt to support him. Jimin wiggled happily at the touch, another glob of slick running out of him at the large alpha hands on him.
“Jimin…I know he’s yours, but he just presented, let’s let him settle in and-” Namjoon began stepping forward again towards the pair, arm outstretched to touch Jimin’s back-
Jungkook snarled, his teeth flashing as he bared them to Namjoon, his possessiveness erupting in an instant. The sound was so fierce, so raw, that Namjoon immediately pulled his hand back, eyes wide with shock.
He gently tried again. “Jungkook, we should go home first-”
Jungkook snapped at him again, coiling his body around Jimin protectively like a cage. This close, Jimin could feel how much bigger he was than Jimin, his shoulders fully covering him, one hand almost fully covering his back. His grip tightening on Jimin’s back, pulling him impossibly closer.
Jimin could feel the ferocity in the way Jungkook held him, the tension radiating off the alpha. Mine. The possessive nature of their bond was suffocating, but it was also exhilarating. His cock twitched, pushing against the fabric of his pants, as the heat in his body intensified.
Jungkook’s hand dug into Jimin’s ass, kneading the soft flesh, and Jimin’s body responded in ways he hadn’t anticipated. He couldn’t think of anything else. He only wanted this—wanted him .
A whispered word escaped Jimin’s lips, barely audible but unmistakable: “Knot.”
Jungkook froze at the sound of Jimin’s breath against his skin, a shiver running down his spine.
He didn’t waste any time after that. Without warning, he spun them around and marched back into the dark room, slamming the door behind them.
The lock clicked, sealing them inside.
And for the first time, Jimin truly understood how crazy mates made you.
His least favorite part of the mating bond was always the baby-craze that it sent the omega into. The need to be bred and knotted and pumped full. The one time he had heard Taehyung tell Hoseok that he “needed to be pupped”, Jimin couldn’t look at his friend for a week. It was something Taehyung never wanted when he wasn’t in heat, so why was it so different when he was?
But in that moment, as Jungkook kneaded his bottom, Jimin could only think about being plugged up by Jungkook.
For a moment, they only stared into each other’s eyes. The room was pitch black, but Jimin felt as though Jungkook’s eyes were glowing, a beacon that he couldn’t look away from. His pupils were dilated and wild, looking as if he was hunting Jimin, as if he couldn’t wait to devour every inch of him-
“Mine, my omega,” Jungkook croaked, and then slammed his lips onto Jimin.
The kiss was rough, heavy, full of spit and teeth and tongues. It was frantic and desperate, not only because of the heat but from years of Jimin’s desperate pining. They each fought for dominance, tongues melding as they each tried to taste the other. Jimin felt a glob of spit run down his chin but didn’t care. If anything, it seemed to turn Jungkook on more if his moan was any indication.
Jimin drew Jungkook’s lip into his mouth and bit, wanting to have his mark all over Jungkook. He tasted a bit of metallic blood, sucking and smoothing his tongue over the wound.
Jungkook drew back. “Jimin…” Jimin had never heard Jungkook say his name like that, as if it was the only word he remembered how to say.
Lips moved down to Jimin’s neck, biting and leaving bruises all over the pale skin as if in payback. Jimind didn’t mind, panting. His head thudded against the door as he threw it back to give more room, a zip of pain from a particularly deep bite under his ear going straight to his cock and making it twitch from where it was trapped in between their stomachs. He felt Jungkook’s own, large and hot, under his bottom, grinding slowly.
“My omega, my Jimin, always mine.” Jungkook licked along the lines of his collarbones, before quickly tugging Jimin’s shirt up and over his head. He then lowered his head, tongue swirling around a nipple.
Jimin gasped, finger’s flying into Jungkook’s thick hair, gripping the soft locks and pulling, even as Jungkook refused to let up.
“Smells so good, want you like this always,” Jungkook groaned, biting gently on his nipple, then going to do the other one.
Jimin panted. “Jungkook, Jungkook I need more.”
Jungkook lifted his head, stopping his own grinding. He moved his hand up and down Jimin’s side in feather-light, cruel touches that had Jimin breaking out in goosebumps.
He cocked his head, and the look should have been innocent with his large doe eyes, but it was not. “What does my omega need, hmm? Tell me.”
Jimin gripped Jungkook’s shirt, trying to pull it up over his head. The alpha refused to move his arms, keeping them down. He used one hand to grab Jimin’s wrists, holding them in one hand and pinning them over his head to the door.
“Use your words, or alpha doesn’t know what you need?”
Jimin flushed, growing impatient and angry. He had been in heat for so long at this point, hot and in pain and sticky, and it was cruel of Jungkook to make him wait.
“I want you to fuck me, isn’t it obvious?” He snapped, bratty tone coming out. Jungkook smirked, but didn’t move.
“Is that all? I feel like my omega wants something more, hmm?”
The cocky, confident tone was something Jimin had never heard from Jungkook. Jungkook was usually sweet, calm, loving—always there to reassure him. But this? This was something entirely different. It made Jimin’s omega whimper with need. He felt both vulnerable and safe, but now, that cocky alpha attitude was breaking down all his defenses. He just wanted to please him, to make Jungkook feel as good as he made Jimin feel.
Jimin tugged again at Jungkook’s shirt, a pout on his lips as he pulled it up, revealing his tan skin and chiseled abs. Jungkook stood still, letting Jimin take control for once, and when the shirt was tossed aside, Jimin looked at the body he’d always admired.
Looking back, Jungkook had always been large and muscular for a beta, but Jimin had just assumed it was because he had a strict gym routine.
“I want your knot,” Jimin breathed. “I want your cum in me, marking me. I want to be bred full, only with your pups. Please, alpha.”
Jungkook’s smirk deepened as he undid the button on Jimin’s pants with swift precision. “Good,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire. “Alpha will give you what you need, don’t worry.”
And he did.
He threw Jimin’s pants off with ease, the underwear thudding to the floor with a wet thwap sound. Jimin blushed in embarrassment as Jungkook let out a slightly cruel chuckle. “So desperate for alpha’s knot, you’re dripping.”
As if on cue, a glob of slick leaked out of Jimin, running down his thighs. Jungkook reached behind, grabbing it all up on his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. He held eye contact as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and moaning. He popped them back out, the sound echoing, and grinned.
“So sweet, just like my sweet omega,” He crooned, finger going back to circle Jimin’s rim again. He felt his hole clench, trying to suck his finger in.
“Please,” He begged again. “Need a knot, need to be pupped.”
Jungkook slowly inserted a finger, working it in slow circles. Jimin gasped at the intrusion, but found he was so wet he already felt plenty open.
“More?” He asked. Jungkook huffed a laugh, leaning down to take Jimin’s nipple into his mouth again, but added two more.
Two at once was a bit of a stretch. Jimin gasped and arched, clinging onto Jungkook’s broad shoulders desperately. However, it was again quickly replaced by the need for more. He needed Jungkook’s cock.
“I’m good, I need your knot. Alpha, please!” He cried, moving to suck on Jungkook’s scent gland to try and soothe his fidgety omega.
“One more, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook said, slowly working a fourth in and scissoring.
You could never hurt me. The only thing that would hurt is if you weren’t mine. Jimin thought, but was quickly distracted as Jungkook completely removed his fingers.
He put them to Jimin’s lips. “Clean these for me, won’t you?”
Jimin eagerly took the fingers onto his tongue, moaning at his own taste. It was weird to enjoy his own slick so much, but something about the idea that this was only for Jungkook, his alpha, for his knot, had him groaning.
Jimin dragged his tongue up the length of Jungkook’s finger as he removed them. Jungkook held Jimin up with one arm, surpringing Jimin again with his strength, as he swiftly removed his pants with his other, kicking them off to the side somewhere in the closet.
He grabbed his cock, and even though Jimin couldn’t see it, he could tell it was larger than average from the head that poked against his rim. He wiggled, trying to get it slip in. Jungkook stopped him with a large, heavy hand on his waist.
“Ready? I need you to tell me.” Jimin didn’t stop his wiggling, so Jungkook grabbed his cheeks, forcing them to lock eyes.
Jimin nodded, and Jungkook’s grip tightened, reminding him what he had just said.
“I’m ready, please, I need it!”
Jungkook slowly began to push in, swallowing Jimin’s slightly pained gasp with his mouth as he leaned down to kiss Jimin. Jimin’s fingers slid up, digging into Jungkook’s long locks, gripping for support at the stretch.
Jungkook was large, but it felt perfect with each inch that he slid deeper. As if Jimin really had been made perfectly for his cock, his knot. His walls had been shaped just for this moment.
Jungkook pushed the final bit in, stopping for a second and continuing to kiss Jimin, giving him a moment. But Jimin didn’t want a moment.
He used Jungkook’s shoulders to lift himself up a bit, then lowered himself back down with a groan, head throwing back against the door again. The drag was absolutely delicious.
“So pretty, my omega,” Jungkook groaned, losing a bit of his own control.
“Can’t…can’t do it on my own…Need to be pupped…” Jimin panted, lifting himself up again, arms shaking.
“Alpha’s got you,” Jungkook said, pushing Jimin’s hips into the wall hard enough to bruise before beginning to slam his cock in and out.
Jimin’s back thudded against the door, but Jimin couldn’t care about the noise they were surely making.
In fact, Jimin could barely think of anything beyond a cycle of alpha, mate, mine, knot, bred. He knew he was probably blabbering those words, mouth open and drooling, but he couldn’t hear his own self. His omega had completely taken over, focused on nothing but the overwhelming sensation of being so close to his one, the one made for him.
Perhaps his omega had always known Jungkook would be an alpha. He just needed to wait a bit.
“Jungkook…A-Alpha,” Jimin cried as Jungkook slammed into his prostate over and over, finding it every time with ease. The alpha seemed to already know Jimin’s body, as if they had done this a thousand times. Perhaps that was another side effect of the true-mates.
“Are you close?” Jungkook asked, taking Jimin’s scent gland into his teeth as he continued to harshly thrust.
Jimin nodded, then whined in distress. His eyes began to irrationally water. “No! Can’t, need knot first..”
“Shhh. I told you I got you, didn’t I?” As if to prove it, Jimin felt the base of his cock growing, making it harder for Jungkook to remove and push back in with each thrust.
Then, Jungkook reached a hand down, grabbing Jimin’s cock in one large hand, completely wrapping around it.
He gave it a tug, and that was it for Jimin. He came with a cry, arching his back, while Jungkook shoved his knot into him, completely connecting them together. Then, Jimin felt spurts of hot cum filling his womb.
“Yes, breed me, only your pups…” He whispered, circling his hips slowly through their orgasms.
“Mine to breed, and only mine,” Jungkook whispered back as he stopped cumming, both their chests heaving. “Mine.”
***
With a bit of effort, Jungkook carefully maneuvered them to sit down while still connected. He quickly slipped shirts onto both of them, the pressure of his knot still pulsing, knowing it would take a while to go down. The last thing they needed was another round of intense heat in a public place, so it was best to get home to their things before things escalated again. He tied his jacket around Jimin's shoulders, carefully draping it over them both to hide the connection.
Once everything was secure, Jungkook quietly opened the door and peered out into the hallway.
“It’s clear. Looks like the members are in the break room,” he whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Jimin's head.
Jimin hummed contentedly, feeling safe and drowsy in his alpha's embrace. He nuzzled closer to Jungkook, inhaling his scent—leather and gasoline—a heady mix that made Jimin’s heart flutter. It was perfect. Powerful. Sexy. And he wanted it on him at all times.
"Who knew you were an alpha?" Jimin mumbled sleepily.
Jungkook chuckled softly, adjusting their position slightly. "I’m shocked too, honestly. It’s late to present, but I guess it happens sometimes. Just didn’t expect it to be me."
Jimin purred, tightening his legs around Jungkook’s waist, instinctively drawing himself closer. "I’m just so happy you are. You know, I hated the idea of true mates before. But then… I only ever wanted you. And now, I have you."
Jungkook froze in place, momentarily stunned by the words. Jimin lifted his head, meeting his eyes, wide and full of vulnerability. Jungkook’s expression shifted as he stammered. “B-but I was a beta. You… You only deserved an alpha.”
Jimin gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear, the ponytail he had worn earlier long gone. “I don’t give a shit about that. Sure, it’s convenient now that you’ve presented, that we’re true mates, but I loved you regardless. If you had let me, I would’ve been with you before.”
Jungkook flushed, his lip caught between his teeth as he glanced down, clearly overwhelmed by the weight of Jimin’s words. Jimin’s heart clenched painfully, realizing that despite all the changes, Jungkook was still the sweet, caring person he had always known. His heart swelled.
“I-I loved you too. Always have. I just never wanted to hold you back from finding your perfect match.”
Jimin’s heart ached at the rawness of Jungkook’s words. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, hoping to communicate the depth of his feelings. "You are my perfect match. All of you. In every version."
Their lips met again, softer this time, a promise of the love to come, of everything they would share now that they were finally together.
Just as they pulled away, a familiar voice broke through the moment.
“Are you guys done? We should head home quickly.”
The pair startled, their connection still tense, and Jungkook instinctively pulled Jimin closer, growling protectively, a new, primal urge rising in him as Yoongi’s presence approached from down the hall.
Yoongi, hands raised in surrender, took a step back. “I won’t get too close. Let’s just get to the car.”
With some effort, Jungkook adjusted them carefully, ensuring Jimin wasn’t tugging too much on the knot as they made their way to the parking lot. Taehyung was waiting for them, leaning against the car with a knowing smirk on his face. He held the door open, gesturing for them to get in.
“So,” Taehyung began, his voice smug as ever, “What do you think of mates now, Jiminie?”
Jimin punched him in the stomach.