Chapter Text
Namjoon had thought it would be enough just to lie beside Jeongguk again.
To share a bed.
To watch him sleep — his lashes fluttering faintly, lips parted, breath slow and warm.
To hear him breathe and feel the heat of his skin, even without touching.
For nearly two months, that was enough.
But then the heat arrived again, and Jeongguk asked Namjoon to help him through it.
And so Namjoon did.
He did it with reverence. Quiet devotion. Every touch careful, every movement meant to soothe. He focused solely on Jeongguk — his pain, his tension, his eventual relief. Not once on his own pleasure.
And still, it made him happy.
To be the one who could take Jeongguk’s pain away. To hold him through it.
To be needed again — not for his title, not for duty, but for this.
For love.
But when the heat ended, Namjoon had assumed it would end with it — the touching.
That they would return to the quiet they’d settled into. Just sleeping side by side, like before.
Instead, the very next night, Jeongguk had turned to him in the dark, voice drowsy and cheeks warm.
“I want you again,” he murmured, eyes still half-shut, fire glowing just beneath his skin.
And this time, it wasn’t heat speaking.
It was want.
Clear-headed, fully aware, unapologetic want.
They hadn’t left the bed much since.
Sheets were kicked to the floor. Pillows rendered useless. Hands and mouths wandering, desperate.
Maybe this was how their bond coped — after all the absence, the years of denial.
This was their bodies remembering what their minds had tried to forget.
The rawness of need. The ache of being known again.
Their inner alpha and omega, starved for touch, tearing through the space between them like it was oxygen.
But it wasn’t just instinct anymore.
They weren’t in heat.
They weren’t in rut.
They were just —
Wanting.
Fully aware.
And letting it happen.
Because they could.
Because they wanted to.
Jeongguk had long lost track of how many times Namjoon had taken him —
Slow, rough, sideways, face-to-face, face-down, against the headboard, with fingers tangled in his hair like he was something sacred and ruinable all at once.
Something holy to be claimed.
To be kept.
“More,” Jeongguk kept whispering.
“Don’t stop. Knot me. Knot me now, Alpha—please—”
Namjoon was a man possessed.
Sweat sliding down his back, jaw tight, eyes glazed.
And now — now — they were on their third (!) round just this morning.
Jeongguk lay on his belly, legs spread, back arching, face muffled into the pillow to suppress the broken sounds spilling from his lips.
Namjoon was still deep inside, hips rolling slow and relentless.
The knot swelling. Locking.
Jeongguk cried out, nails clawing the sheets.
“F-Fuck, you’re—hah—why are you so huge—”
Namjoon leaned over him, breath hot and ragged, voice growling low against his ear.
“Take it. Take all of me. My omega—mine—mine—”
Jeongguk moaned.
He loved this.
Loved being taken by the man he despised for so long.
Loved how rage had become hunger.
Bodily, visceral, raw hunger for each other.
And how the hunger had become home again.
---
And then—
click.
The door opened.
Tiny footsteps.
“Papa?”
Jeongguk froze.
Every muscle in his body locked. His eyes flew open. Breath caught painfully in his throat.
Namjoon — still knotted deep inside him — went stiff, one arm braced on the mattress, the other still curled around Jeongguk’s waist.
“I wanna sleep between—”
Soobin’s voice halted.
Oh god. Ohgodohgod.
Jeongguk panicked.
He grabbed the blanket. Yanked it violently up to his shoulders. His arms shook trying to cover both himself and Namjoon, who was now visibly struggling not to lose his fucking mind.
Jeongguk kicked Namjoon in the thigh — “Get off—move—move—” — but the knot tugged and pain flared low in his gut. They were still joined. Still locked.
“Ughhh.....S-Soobin—!” Jeongguk choked out.
“You—you can’t—baby—go wait outside—!”
“Why is Appa on top of you?”
Jeongguk wanted to die.
Namjoon, face flushed, jaw clenched so tight it might snap, scrambled to pull the blanket higher, trying to hide as much of Jeongguk’s body as he could without moving too much — because he was still spilling cum deep inside him.
Still... actively breeding him.
“Appa and I—uh—” Jeongguk’s voice cracked. “We were just—uh…”
“Playing?”
“YES—yes—playing.” Jeongguk wished the Earth to open and swallow him whole.
Namjoon, with the last of his dignity, managed to croak out.
“Not now, Soobin. Go to Halmoni’s room, okay? Five minutes.”
“But I miss you. I haven’t slept with papa for so many days.”
“We’ll cuddle later, Binie. Promise.”
There was a pause.
Then Soobin let out a tiny, defeated sigh.
“Okay…”
The door closed.
Silence.
Dead, oppressive silence.
Then—
Jeongguk buried his face into the pillow and screamed.
“Did you forget to lock the door after bringing me water just now, you dumbass?!!”
“It was an honest mistake! I was in a hurry!”
“I want to die.”
Namjoon let out a breathless, broken laugh, still panting, still buried deep inside him.
“Well,” he said hoarsely, “at least he didn’t ask what knotting is.”
“Don’t say that word!” Jeongguk groaned, mortified.
“Baby, you said it just five minutes ago. Loudly.”
“I hate you.”
“You were just screaming my name.”
“Shut up.”
“You screamed ‘knot me, alpha, ruin me—’”
“I SWEAR TO GOD, NAMJOON—”
Jeongguk had never been this red in his life.
Not during his first kiss.
Not the first time he called Namjoon “Alpha.”
Not even on the night he lost his virginity to him.
No.
This — this was a whole other league of humiliation.
He sat at the breakfast table, spine ramrod straight, hands folded stiffly in his lap, eyes locked on the fried eggs in front of him like they might offer him salvation if he stared hard enough.
Across from him, Namjoon was the picture of post-sin bliss — freshly showered, hair still damp, shirt only half-buttoned, smirk curling lazily at the corner of his mouth. He sipped his coffee like a man who hadn’t almost been caught knotted inside his mate by their four-year-old son.
“I hate you,” Jeongguk muttered, barely moving his lips.
Namjoon didn’t miss a beat.
“You loved me. Three times just this morning. Countless times these last few days,” he murmured, leaning over to brush his lips against Jeongguk’s ear.
Jeongguk kicked him under the table.
Hard.
Namjoon’s only reaction was a bitten-back laugh and another slow sip of coffee.
Soobin bounced into the dining room with all the cheerful, unbothered energy of a child who had absolutely no idea he had walked in on the kind of scene that could single-handedly fund his future therapist’s vacation home.
He scrambled into his usual chair between Halmoni and Jeongguk, swinging his legs as he chirped,
“Appa’s room smelled weird this morning.”
Jeongguk choked on his juice.
Violently.
Halmoni blinked, set down her tea, and cleared her throat delicately.
Namjoon patted Jeongguk’s back — entirely too smug — as if he wasn’t the reason Jeongguk was choking to death in the first place.
“Weird how, baby?” Halmoni asked, calm as a lake in spring.
“Like candy. And flowers. And something spicy.”
Jeongguk wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him immediately.
“Maybe Appa and Papa were cooking something,” Namjoon offered smoothly.
“In the bed?”
Jeongguk was going to commit a murder.
And the victim was sitting right across from him.
Halmoni took another sip of tea, serene as ever. Then, like she was commenting on the weather,
“I think it’s time I spend a few days at my own house again.”
Both Jeongguk and Namjoon turned to her instantly.
“With Soobin,” she added cheerfully. “I’m happy to look after him — as much as you want. I’ll get to spend time with my grandchild, and you two… clearly need more privacy.”
“Eomma—” Jeongguk started weakly.
“It’s fine, Jeongguk-ah. You’ve earned it. Besides—”
She gave Namjoon that look. The one mothers have. The one that could make even a grown alpha with broad shoulders and a dominant scent shift in his seat like a scolded schoolboy.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if I had another grandchild to spoil soon.”
Jeongguk’s entire body went crimson.
Namjoon spat his coffee back into the mug.
“W-what—” Jeongguk spluttered.
“No—! I—we—he—”
“Oh, I’m not rushing you, sweetie,” she smiled sweetly.
“I just know how loud you were last night, Or… the last few nights. And days, too, really.”
Namjoon groaned and buried his face in his hands.
Jeongguk groaned louder, wishing for instant death.
Soobin looked around, chewing his toast.
“Can I have a baby sister?”
“Eat your eggs,” Jeongguk croaked.
🫀🫀