Archive of Our Own

Namjoon shouldn’t have done it.

No, he had every fucking opportunity to walk away, be the responsible one, and yet.

Namjoon’s dam used to say that he was destined to become more than a boring salaryman because he was too smart for that kind of life. She may have been right about the first part, but Namjoon feels supremely stupid in the weak morning light that spills into the room through the sheer curtains.

There’s the stale scent of sex and soft snores. There’s a sleeping figure right next to him, because the bed is too narrow to comfortably accommodate two grown men.

He’s never dated someone who sleeps on their stomach, hands forming a pillow under their cheek – because there was only one, and he claimed not to need one.

Namjoon’s guts clench when he realises that he never bothered to fully undress him. He’s wearing black, satiny panties that have been carelessly twisted out of the way, one of his puffy lips peeking out.

The omega shifts his hips in his sleep. A cloudy trickle of fluid smears on his inner thigh. I have this implant in my arm, he’d told Namjoon, all sweet and smiling like he was doing him a huge favour. You don’t – ah, don’t have to worry about it.

For many omegas, allowing an alpha to mount them is a core part of their submission. Taking on all that risk for so little gain, laying themselves vulnerable.

Namjoon rubs his brow with the heel of his hand, getting up to his feet and feeling a little disgusted with the way his cock sways between his legs as he yanks his boxer briefs and trousers on.

The omega shifts again. His dark hair reaches his nape in soft, romantic curls, and suddenly, Namjoon is desperate to see his face.

But then he thinks about facing Seokjin on Monday, and his face heats with embarrassment.

Namjoon is already at the door – as the flat consists of a single room and a kitchenette – when he hears a soft, confused “Daepyo-nim?” behind him.

Namjoon clutches the doorframe so hard that the paint chips. “You can’t call me that, sweetheart. Not after –”

“Sorry… It’s still early.”

Namjoon turns his head and immediately wishes that he hadn’t. The omega looks angelic in his ruined nest. Plum-coloured bruises on his collarbones. Prominent front teeth as he yawns.

“I think I have to go, darling.”

Slow blinking.

“Okay, then,” he says.

“This can’t happen again.”

The omega licks his lips. He’s still naked apart from his panties, and his chest is flushed despite the lack of heating.

“Okay,” he repeats to Namjoon who has an unexplainable urge to say ‘thank you’.

Instead, he performs a clumsy half bow and rushes out the door with his clothes mostly on. The stairwell is open to the elements, the railing wet from the downpour last night. There’s a large, shallow puddle on the ground, too, and Namjoon has to walk around it to reach the main road.

He wonders, selfishly, if Jungkook is watching him from the window.

///

A lot of things went wrong on the day Jungkook met Kim Namjoon for the first time.

First, he had gotten on the wrong bus and was forced to take an awkward detour. Then he’d broken his only hair tie by snapping it against his wrist while trying to make sense of the routes. He had also put on makeup and immediately regretted it when he arrived at the office and saw that no one else seemed to be wearing any. 

With his temporary pass, which he had acquired from the receptionist, Jungkook found himself outside his cousin’s office, rubbing his cheeks with his fingers to wipe off his hastily applied blush. Seokjin made him wait for a while – probably to mess with him – while his future coworkers nodded him hello.

Funnily enough, Jungkook had never visited Seokjin’s office before that day. Such an integral part of his cousin’s life and livelihood, tucked away in a sleek building with a different small company or start up on each floor.

His belly tightened with nerves as he stepped in to talk business with Seokjin while his mate, Taehyung, knelt on a pillow right next to his desk, all but ignoring their conversation. In any other situation, he would have sprung up from the floor to hug Jungkook and shower him with questions and compliments.

“I placed you in Namjoon’s team,” Seokjin said, and Jungkook blinked, feeling like an iceberg floating aimlessly into warmer waters. “He won’t go easy on you just because we’re related.”

While Seokjin went on, Jungkook fiddled with his visitor’s pass and looked at Taehyung who seemed perfectly serene on his knees.

Growing up, his cousin had shown up for Jungkook in ways his other relatives hadn’t. He’d taken care of Jungkook’s meals and given him rides to school when the weather was particularly bad. And after Jungkook presented as an omega – to absolutely no one’s surprise – Seokjin had naturally assumed the role of a familial dominus. He’d settle Jungkook with brotherly scruffs and keep him in check. 

He’d also tried to vet any suitors vying for Jungkook’s attention, but as Jungkook valued his privacy in that regard, Seokjin had only succeeded in driving away the ones he knew of. And now, he was taking responsibility for his non-existent career, too.

Jungkook’s next stop on that fateful day was Kim Namjoon’s office.

His new boss did not have an inconspicuous cushion placed next to his desk. His office was tastefully furnished but very much an alpha’s space, and Jungkook felt small on the wide leather couch while Kim Namjoon went over duties and expectations.

“Any questions?” Namjoon asked, and Jungkook said no even though he understood very little of what had been said.

In fact, Jungkook was in such a daze that he barely paid any mind to Kim Namjoon that first time. He was so focused on himself, how he looked and sounded, how he crossed his legs and tried to choose the most respectful turns of phrase he could think of.

Jungkook bowed so deeply on his way out that Namjoon laughed at him. It wasn’t the good kind of laughter, but it wasn’t mean, either.

Jungkook couldn’t make sense of it.

Three weeks have passed since then, and that first meeting still haunts his dreams and thoughts. Was the meaning of that laugh: We hired you just because you are Seokjin’s cousin, so I’ll never let you forget that – or: Every office needs a silly little omega with a three-year degree in something pointless like subgender studies.

Omegas make up fifteen percent of the workforce, and the number has been steadily climbing. At this particular office, Jungkook isn’t the only omega employee, but it’s a near thing.

He doesn’t count Taehyung because Seokjin’s mate isn’t there to work. His cousin is what some would call hyper-traditional, a trait which Jungkook has gotten to experience first-hand. Jungkook is an omega with a capital O, which means that his submissive disposition goes beyond the urge to bare his neck to a stronger wolf.

He craves to be led. To be managed. Those can be difficult feelings to reconcile with and Seokjin knows it. He lives with an omega like that.

Jungkook’s cousin takes full advantage of the Omegan Life Fulfilment Act, which grants tax breaks and generous benefits to those whose submissive partners don’t work due to dynamic reasons. It’s a government ploy to get submissive omegas birthing more pups to fix the declining birth rate.

But back to Kim Namjoon, who hasn’t once brought up Jungkook’s subgender nor his potential as a child-bearer. It should be a low bar to set, but Jungkook has had his fair share of uncomfortable experiences.

Namjoon has a tendency to veer off-topic during meetings, yes, but his ramblings are often abstract in nature. He loves throwing a rhetorical question at his employees and refusing to answer it until someone plays along.

The alpha is also younger than Jungkook anticipated. It makes sense, though – Seokjin wasn’t even in his thirties when he started the company, and he’s Namjoon’s hyung by at least a couple of years.

Hence, Namjoon is at the age where his face remains youthful while other, small signs give away his age: the gold-rimmed glasses he wears intermittently, and the grey hairs on his head that make Jungkook’s belly get tight for reasons he cannot name.

Overall, he’s a well-liked CEO who doesn’t pull rank unnecessarily or use his subgender as a crutch.

To Jungkook specifically, it’s more nuanced than that. Anyone can act nobly while surrounded by their peers, but it’s the moments when Jungkook is left alone with his boss that reveal the most about the alpha.

They both come to work around the same time every day and take the lift together from the lobby to the fifteenth floor. They like to take their lunch around the same time and end up sitting at the same table in the cafeteria downstairs.

Namjoon doesn’t seem irritated by Jungkook’s hesitant presence. He asks friendly questions about his schooling and his past job experience and even shares funny anecdotes about Seokjin from the early days of the company. Only in those informal situations will Namjoon acknowledge Jungkook’s family ties to the co-founder of his company, and never when they’re in the company of others.

A month into Jungkook’s contract, Namjoon invites him for a one-on-one in his office. It’s strange being back in that space. 

In the E-rated manhwa which Jungkook had been reading in bed last night, curled up on his side with a tiny bit of slick smeared between his cheeks, the rich chairman of a company had an office similar to Namjoon’s – though modified with his future omega in mind. The windows were tinted and sound-proofed, and there was a small loop for a leash bolted to his desk. A detail which the artist had drawn with great care. 

Jungkook had kept thinking about it until he fell asleep. The idea of being so visibly restrained.

Of course, Jungkook has never had an established dynamic like that with a partner, but he thinks he could like it – not because he’s a brat or because he can’t be trusted, but because the sting of humiliation would push him deep into omegaspace and allow him to not think for a while.

Namjoon’s office is void of anything dynamic-related, however. There’s an expensive-looking watch discarded on his desk along with a stack of papers. Jungkook takes a seat, and the legs of the chair creak against the polished wood. The main office is carpeted, but not Namjoon’s private space.

“You’ve been with us for thirty days,” Namjoon says as he returns to his desk from the narrow bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Yes, daepyo-nim,” Jungkook says politely, praying to all possible deities that he hasn’t scratched the floorboards.

The alpha throws him a long, pensive look. It feels like having hot oil poured all over him.

“What do you need from me?”

“Pardon?” Jungkook blurts out, hands gripping his knees through the cheap material of his slacks. He hasn’t bothered with makeup since that disastrous first day, but he’s wondered if wearing a skirt would toe the same line.

If the alpha would stop to look – or if he would scoff at the performativity of it all.

“This is a small company, and small companies tend to have growing pains,” Namjoon says in a slightly impatient tone, as if he’s stating the obvious to a child. “I want to know if you’re satisfied with the tasks we are giving you, and if you feel confident in executing them.”

The question is a little funny because Jungkook has mostly been given simple data entry tasks to save the time and resources of better-paid employees. He helps around the office, sometimes even fetching coffees from across the street or taking photocopies.

Jungkook conveys that to Namjoon as politely as he can, trying very hard not to think about other things he could need from him.

“That’s all well and good,” Namjoon says, nodding, “but there were a few mistakes in the Excel sheet you sent back to Manager Jung the other day. So, I wonder if there’s something I can do – or if you simply need a firmer hand going forward.”

Jungkook’s belly clenches hotly. Obviously, his boss didn’t mean it like that, but his omega is growing restless after months of nothing but the occasional scruffing and a few scolding words from his cousin.

If Namjoon catches the double entendre of his words, he’s in no rush to correct himself.

The alpha scratches his chin and continues, “Do you feel comfortable seeking guidance from your superiors, Assistant Jeon?”

The answer is no, Jungkook thinks. He wants to do well – hates to be a bother.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the telling silence. “That’s why I asked. What do you need from me?”

Jungkook blinks. His traitorous hindbrain has already conjured up a scene that he can’t shake off: Namjoon calmly ordering him to bend over his mahogany desk and to flip his skirt up – because of course imaginary Jungkook is wearing a skirt – and then spanking him for each time he failed to speak up and ask for help.

In the fantasy, Namjoon spanks him like he means it, with the intent to discipline rather than arouse, but Jungkook would still get wet from it.

He can’t even remember the last time he was spanked, excluding a few half-hearted swats during sex. Seokjin would never discipline him like that because it would be inappropriate between relatives.

Pressing his thighs together, Jungkook says, “I don’t know, daepyo-nim. I just want to improve.”

Namjoon sighs almost fondly. He’s masking his scent just like everyone at the office, but alphas are less stringent about such things than omegas. They don’t have to fear that some malicious passer-by develops an obsession with their scent and follows them home.

Because of that, Jungkook can catch a hint of simmering coals underneath the clean scent of a topical blocker. Unfortunately for Jungkook, that’s the exact type of scent profile that pleases his inner omega. Campfire under a night sky. Potatoes wrapped in tin foil.

Jungkook ducks his head before he can draw any more associations. “I mean, I want to become more than just Seokjin hyung’s cousin who got this job out of pity.”

“You didn’t get this job out of pity,” Namjoon objects. “We needed someone to fill an entry-level position, and you were qualified. We interviewed other candidates as well, but their CVs were less impressive.”

Jungkook doesn’t know whether to believe Namjoon or not, but he smiles without lifting his gaze.

“You need me to be more assertive going forward, though?”

Namjoon drums his fingers against his desk. “Just come to me or Hoseok – I mean Manager Jung – if you get stuck. We will offer you structured feedback to help you succeed.”

Jungkook nods, hoping he’s not blushing furiously. First, his boss compliments him and then promises to babysit him in the future.

He leaves Namjoon’s office feeling confused, his tummy tingling strangely as he passes Jung Hoseok’s desk. Hoseok is around Namjoon’s age, but that’s where their similarities end. 

Namjoon is very obviously alpha, even if he doesn’t go about his days posturing and growling at everyone. Hoseok on the other hand is a slippery character. He is extremely kind and polite, almost too formal in how he speaks to his subordinates, but there are times when he has a cold look in his eyes, as though he’s judging the people around him while smiling like the sun itself.

Jungkook isn’t even sure what his subgender is.

“Everything alright?” Hoseok asks airily as Jungkook passes by.

“Yes, boojang-nim. I have some emails to respond to.”

Hoseok nods and goes back to his work, typing away on his soft-sounding mechanical keyboard. Jungkook goes back to his desk where a worn Logitech keyboard and matching wired mouse await him. The ㅎ key tends to get stuck, and ever since he noticed the problem, Jungkook has been double-checking every document twice before submitting them for review.

Much, much later, Jungkook looks back on this moment and wonders why it never occurred to him to ask for a new keyboard when Namjoon asked what he needed from him.

///

“I think I need to get laid,” Jungkook says, making his poor Yoongi hyung spit out a mouthful of soju. It gets all over the floor, and Jungkook giggles. He’s not drunk. They’ve only shared one bottle, a little social convention of sorts. Yoongi taught Jungkook to drink and be responsible about it, too.

Yoongi is an omega like Jungkook, and he lives together with his beta mate, Jimin. The two of them have a peculiar dynamic, but they love each other a lot.

Yoongi works with autistic children, and his pockets are always full of laminated flash cards and fidgets. Jimin is a voice actor for cartoons and animated films.

Both of them are in their dream careers.

Jungkook still wouldn’t be able to explain concretely what it is that he does for a living. Namjoon and Seokjin started the company to import renewable energy innovations from abroad to meet South Korea’s growing demand.

“That, or I’ll just have to get a piercing,” Jungkook continues petulantly when Yoongi just pats his shirt lazily with a napkin.

 “I would like to see the reaction of your supervisors if you strolled into your corporate job with a lip piercing,” Yoongi mutters. Jungkook brushes his hair coyly behind his ear. He recently got it permed, and he thinks it looks good.

“I could get one in a place where no one can see,” Jungkook blusters, though his shoulders slump the longer Yoongi looks at him. “Ah, I don’t know, hyung… I just feel like I have to make some kind of changes. I feel stuck.”

“Would getting laid, as you put it, help you get unstuck?” Yoongi asks bluntly. He sticks out his glass for Jungkook to refill from the bottle.

Jungkook shakes his head at the question. “Probably not. But this whole thing unsettles my inner omega and makes me second-guess my decisions. It’s a new setting for me, and I’m not sure what I should wear and how I should act. If I dress like an omega, I look like a pick-me – and if I don’t, I’m acting like one of the betas.”

“Since when do you think so deeply about your appearance?” Yoongi immediately questions. He’s way too observant – Jungkook should have taken that into account.

“Are your coworkers being catty? Or… is there someone you want to impress?”

Jungkook quickly tries to pour himself more soju, but the last little bit now sits in Yoongi’s shot glass. He stares at it enviously while Yoongi continues to stare at him.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve been single for a while.”

“And I’m doing fine,” Jungkook says sourly.

“Are you, though?” 

Jungkook tries to come up with a counterargument, but Yoongi throws back the last shot of soju and nails him down with his sharp, feline gaze. It’s a whole lot of eye contact for Min Yoongi, so he’s being dead serious.

“You know, Kook-ah, we are looking for a dom, too. There’s nothing bad with wanting to find someone compatible.”

“What? Who is looking for a dom?”

Yoongi flicks at Jungkook’s forehead. “Jimin and I, you dummy.”

Jungkook forgets to rub the sting away with his palm because he’s looking at his hyung as if he suddenly grew a tail and a pair of cat ears. Jungkook is fairly sure that Yoongi and Jimin engage in pet play behind closed doors, but he has no concrete proof – yet.

Yoongi sighs at his gawking. “We both have some needs that we can’t fulfill for each other, and we are tired of paying for professional help.”

“I thought Jimin was your dominant,” Jungkook says like an idiot, which he very much feels like in this situation.

“Because he’s the beta and I’m the omega?” Yoongi asks with a lopsided smile. “I wish it were that simple.”

Jungkook pinches the tip of his tongue between his teeth – because for him it is that simple. He’s a submissive omega who is almost exclusively attracted to dominant alphas. There could be some point made about compulsory heteronormativity with how little Jungkook has questioned his predilections, but it’s how he feels.

“So, who is it?” Yoongi asks to redirect the conversation. A bit of genuine concern creeps into his voice, though he’s not nearly as bad as Seokjin when it comes to these things. “Is it a coworker? Or… a manager?”

Jungkook shakes his head vigorously. “I’m not telling you. Hyung would just scold me. Or laugh.”

“Have you told Seokjin hyung at least? I still remember when he sent that alpha at your university a hand-written letter which pointed out his many shortcomings as a potential mate in painstaking detail.”

Jungkook swats at Yoongi’s arm, and just then, Jimin steps through the door and tells Jungkook off for ‘playing rough’ with his omega.

In the same breath, the beta squeezes himself between Yoongi and Jungkook and thoroughly scents them both. It’s a bit more intimate than what most friends engage in, but Jungkook and Jimin have always had their own definition of boundaries, and Yoongi doesn’t mind one bit.

It’s still strictly platonic for them, and Jimin is also careful not to act dominantly toward Jungkook because that would muddy the waters on an instinctual level.

After kissing Yoongi on the cheek, Jimin stands up again to rummage through the fridge. He’s one of those people who nibbles on his food throughout the day and comes back home ravenous, ready to shove five triangle kimbaps into his face. Jungkook loves to join him whenever kimbap is involved.

“I told Kookie that we are looking into adding a third person into our relationship,” Yoongi calls out, adding that the rice in the cooker is still fresh enough to have with his banchan.

“Oh, yes. We are mainly looking for an alpha at this point, but the vibe is more important than the subgender, I guess.”

Jungkook stares, wide-eyed, as Jimin piles leftover meat onto his plate and sticks it in the microwave.

“It came up because Jungkook has a workplace crush,” Yoongi offers, even though Jimin didn’t ask.

The betrayal, the backstab.

Jungkook has always known that Yoongi can be a little rat, but it’s easy to forget. The selfless, hard-working omega working with special needs pups… Jungkook’s kind hyung whose good will toward his loved ones could never be brought into question…

“I love workplace crushes,” says Jimin.

“It’s not a crush,” Jungkook grits through his teeth. “I’m not even genuinely interested in them – I’m – it’s my stupid inner omega. I told you that I need to get laid.”

“So it’s a dynamic thing? Naughty Jungkookie.”

That sounds and feels wrong, too, but Jungkook swallows his complaints because Jimin comes back with the food and feeds the best bites of meat to Yoongi and Jungkook before digging in himself. It’s a beta thing.

Yoongi thanks him with so much love in his voice that Jungkook’s heart does an aborted backflip. 

///

The next day, after applying his normal scent blockers, Jungkook puts on perfume with notes of vanilla and lavender – quite close to his natural scent, even though no one at the office will know that because of his diligent use of scent blockers.

He wears a skirt and puts on earrings. No makeup though, just some lip balm and eyebrow gel.

At the morning meeting, Namjoon stares at him for the first five minutes and then completely ignores him for the remaining twenty-five. Jungkook feels humiliated even though some of his coworkers compliment his looks.

In the morning, he felt like the office siren. And now – well.

///

Jungkook downloads a dating app and ferociously swipes left and right until he matches with an alpha seven years older than him. Kihyun seems polite enough, even if his hobbies – going to the gym and playing squash – seem to take up the majority of his waking hours.

The perk is that Jungkook can feel a bit small next to Kihyun who meets him at a busy café. They drink their iced americanos and chat about sports.

It’s extremely irresponsible of him, but Jungkook agrees to go to Kihyun’s place afterwards, only sharing his location with Jimin and Yoongi as a safety measure. He lets the alpha undress him and fuck him from behind – after making sure that he puts a condom on all the way.

The sex feels alright.

Jungkook struggles to come, but he finally does so after rubbing his clit while Kihyun’s average knot swells inside him.

“You smell nice,” Kihyun tells him, licking his shoulder.

“It’s just perfume,” Jungkook lies in case his scent blockers have worn off.

“In your profile, you said you were submissive,” the alpha points out. He’s chatty for a knotting alpha, Jungkook thinks.

“I am,” he says, wishing that Kihyun’s knot will go down soon.

“So, you get off on choking and shit?”

“No, I don’t actually like choking,” Jungkook replies, very thankful that Kihyun didn’t decide to test his hypothesis without asking first.

The bar is in hell and so forth.

The knot pops free, and Jungkook thanks Kihyun for a nice time. Jimin calls him as soon as his location changes.

“It didn’t fucking work,” Jungkook says, pinning his phone between his ear and shoulder while he looks for his wallet to pay for his convenience store haul. The poor student working the graveyard shift gives him a sympathetic look, as if he knows just what he’s talking about.

///

After coming home late and eating two whole packets of ramyun with instant rice, Jungkook is puffy-cheeked and almost late to work – but perplexingly – so is Namjoon. They bump into each other in the lobby and step into the lift in a terse silence.

“How was your evening, Assistant Jeon?” the alpha asks all of a sudden, meeting Jungkook’s side profile through the mirror.

Jungkook looks, too, and notices that Namjoon’s nostrils are slightly flared.

As though Jungkook smells bad.

He took a hasty shower in the dead of night and applied more of his vanilla-scented perfume in the morning. Fresh clothes, fresh underwear, dry shampoo in his hair.

Self-conscious, Jungkook tugs on the carefully ironed collar of his shirt and realises a bit too late that Kihyun left a small hickey on his collarbone.

It’s such an unprofessional sight that Jungkook nearly bursts into tears in front of his CEO. He replies to Namjoon’s question with something contrived about meeting his friends for dinner, but that’s even worse in the context of what the alpha is seeing. A loose omega who probably sleeps his way through his friend group.

Sex by itself is such a banal affair. It’s like a bodily function that’s best kept private, but everyone knows that most people have it often and for various reasons.

“Hey… are you alright, kid?”

That wording. A hot knife of humiliation slices through Jungkook’s defences.

But Jungkook really does look a little out of it when he looks at himself in the mirror. Namjoon’s hand is at the small of his back, guiding him out into the office and then to the water cooler that always serves the water lukewarm out of a crinkly plastic cup.

They once chatted about the potential effects of microplastics in drinking water. Not a kid, not a kid, not a kid, Jungkook thinks as he drinks the water in quick gulps and then tries to hide his sodium-puffy cheeks by brushing his hair with his fingers.

Namjoon still has his hand at Jungkook’s back. He’s towering over Jungkook even though in theory, they’re almost the same height.

“Better?” Namjoon asks sternly, but it sounds like he doesn’t know what to do with Jungkook. The bothersome kid who came to work in a skirt once and then sporting a fresh hickey.

“Yes, daepyo-nim,” Jungkook says, dejected but tense because of the close proximity, something which Namjoon hasn’t allowed lately.

Suddenly, the door to one of the small conference rooms slides open, and Seokjin steps out. As always, his suit is expertly tailored, and his shoes look freshly shined. In comparison, he makes even Kim Namjoon look a bit untidy and behind the trend cycle.

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin says, frowning deeply. His cousin valiantly addresses him as ‘Assistant Jeon’ in professional contexts, but apparently it doesn’t matter so much when it’s just Namjoon with them.

“And Namjoon-ah. I was trying to look for you, but you’ve been coming to work twenty minutes later than usual. What’s up with that?”

Namjoon laughs it off and says something about maintenance work on the metro line he uses. Jungkook doesn’t point out that he often takes the same line and hasn’t heard about any delays or cancellations.

Seokjin and Namjoon seem so familiar with each other, more than just business partners, and yet, Seokjin never introduced Jungkook to him.

“You look a little pale,” his cousin continues, sliding a hand to Jungkook’s nape and effortlessly guiding him away from Namjoon – even as Jungkook’s inner omega protests the shift in authority.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Seokjin continues, lightly massaging the tense muscles on the left side of Jungkook’s neck which is the result of him being a chronic tummy sleeper.

Jungkook wants to melt through the floor because Namjoon is still right there. Watching them closely.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook mutters, trying to head back to his desk, but Seokjin orders him back to his office. To anyone around them, it would sound like a casual instruction from boss to employee, but Jungkook’s omega recognises what his cousin is trying to do. What he always does.

He lets Seokjin close the door behind him before he says, “You didn’t have to do that in front of Kim Daepyo-nim of all people.”

Seokjin’s mouth twists at the corners, though not in a mean way. “It’s just Namjoon, he wouldn’t think badly of you, sweetheart.”

“He’s not just Namjoon. He’s my boss, actually,” Jungkook says and realises that he said the alpha’s name out loud for the first time, even though he stopped referring to him in his thoughts as ‘CEO Kim’ a long time ago.

Namjoon is a good, reliable type of name.

“Is Namjoonie a good boss?”

Jungkook is taken aback by the question, but he doesn’t let it show. “He’s… he’s great. I mean, very attentive.”

“Is he now.”

Jungkook crosses his arms and then lets them fall to his sides. Everything is strange.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier,” Seokjin concedes. “I have to work harder on compartmentalising things.”

Jungkook looks around and finds Taehyung lounging on the office couch.

Low protocol day.

Dominant and submissive gestures are generally permitted in public settings, and people can even get away with discreet sexual acts as long as they don’t bother anyone else, but Seokjin has always made sure to keep Jungkook out of that part of their relationship.

Taehyung is always fully clothed and fresh-faced when Jungkook sees him, but this time he’s not even on his knees – or standing in a corner after saying something rude.

“Hi, Taehyungie hyung,” Jungkook says softly.

“Hi, bunny.”

At the unprovoked pet name, Jungkook pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He won’t let Taehyung fluster him ever again. He has a job to do.

“Has someone complained?”

His cousin clears his throat. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s how entry-level employees end up dragged into spontaneous one-on-ones with the owner of the company.”

“Stop wising off, little brat.”

“Are you mad at me for something?” Jungkook asks impatiently, cocking his hip to the side.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “No. I just haven’t had a chance to ask how you are doing.”

“I’m doing just fine,” Jungkook says, trying not to sound too bratty because he doesn’t really want to fight with Seokjin. Provoking him a bit is one thing. Openly disrespecting his hyung is another.

“You look tired,” Seokjin observes, sitting down in his chair and crossing his legs in a fluid motion.

Jungkook fiddles with the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t owe his cousin an explanation. But it’s complicated.

“I came home late,” he mutters. “Was seeing friends.”

Seokjin doesn’t look particularly happy with that. “You should get enough sleep and avoid drinking during the work week.”

“I am aware of public health recommendations,” Jungkook says and immediately regrets it because of the gleam in Seokjin’s eyes. He beckons Jungkook closer with a finger.

Taehyung watches them keenly from his seat. He’s always seemed fascinated by the unique dynamic between his mate and Jungkook.

“I know I can’t give you what you need…” Seokjin starts, his head tilted as he scours Jungkook’s face for clues which Jungkook doesn’t want to give him. “When’s your next heat due? Hyung can pay if you want someone to come settle you.”

Jungkook shudders at the suggestion.

There are two different types of heat and rut companions that lone wolves can hire. The first type is a paid sexual partner, essentially an escort who has agreed to conduct their business under some level of government oversight.

The second type, which Seokjin is referring to, is a group of licensed dynamic therapists who help submissive wolves feel settled during their cycles and guide dominant ones through their urges. The therapy they offer is non-sexual and carefully negotiated so that no personal boundaries are broken.

Even then, Seokjin has never offered to find Jungkook a therapist. His cousin has trusted him to take care of his own cycles, only stopping by his flat to deliver food and supplies because that’s just who he is.

“My heat isn’t for two months,” Jungkook says awkwardly. His heats don’t come up much in conversation. “And I don’t want a stranger to… to scent me and order me around. It sounds terrible.”

“Does it?” Seokjin mutters. Jungkook hates how intensively his cousin is looking at him.

“Yes, I… it wouldn’t be my thing.” Jungkook feels like he’s lying through his teeth, even though that’s exactly how his omega feels. “I’m happy with how things are, and you… already help me a lot.”

Seokjin seems to consider it. Then he has some kind of wordless exchange with Taehyung. So many things said and Jungkook is privy to none of them.

Perhaps that’s why he has never managed to build a deep, genuine friendship with Taehyung, even though on paper they have a lot in common.

“Okay,” Seokjin says abruptly. “I apologise again for overstepping.”

Jungkook shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It’s fine, hyung. I wasn’t…”

Seokjin heaves a breath, sinking deeper into the creaky leather of his chair. “Would you like me to settle you?”

The little choked-up snarl is out of Jungkook’s mouth more quickly than his brain can process the question. Seokjin looks surprised, maybe a little hurt, too. But he doesn’t react otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook blurts out, painfully aware of their one-omega audience. Betas are a little clueless when it comes to instincts, but Taehyung…

“I have emails to send,” Jungkook says with a wince – because the excuse is paper-thin. “I’m busy, hyung, this is my workplace.”

“I know that, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook nods and excuses himself with a half-hearted bow. When he reaches his desk, there’s a small box waiting for him next to his shitty keyboard.

There’s no note. Inside, there’s a big chocolate chip cookie. Jungkook has seen them on sale in the lunch cafeteria.

Jungkook doesn’t dare touch it for a while, but he gives in after his lunch break, and Hoseok finds him munching on it. The manager smiles and calls out cheerfully, “It’s our Jungkookie with a cookie!”

Somehow, it’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to him in a long time.

///

The rest of the week passes without incidents. Meaning: Jungkook doesn’t run into Namjoon much. He dresses modestly and keeps his head down, trying to work fast, trying to please his superiors.

On Friday evening, Hoseok arranges a team dinner in a nearby barbeque joint. First, Namjoon just slides a credit card across the meeting room desk and claims that he’s drowning in work and couldn’t possibly come. But Hoseok turns out to have a persuasive streak – to put it lightly.

Namjoon arrives at the restaurant an hour late and starts shoving miscellaneous things into his mouth like a starving dog. A cute beta from the legal team, one with a pointy nose that may or may not be the result of plastic surgery, helps Namjoon peel a perilla leaf and, in a friendly tone, instructs him to eat more slowly to avoid indigestion.

Jungkook sits on the other side of the table, poking sulkily at a strip of fat he spat out into a napkin earlier. The last bits of samgyeopsal are burning on the grill, unwanted and carcinogenic.

“Daepyo-nim, please take some,” the same beta chirps, pouring soju into Namjoon’s glass and then politely turning away to drink.

After dinner, Jungkook isn’t exactly drunk, but his body is heavy – greasy food and alcohol sitting in his belly, making it a little round. He’s an omega, prone to bloating, blah blah.

He’s standing at the bus stop right in front of the restaurant when Namjoon steps out, looking at his phone.

“Oh. Assistant Jeon.”

Jungkook flinches a bit when Namjoon looks up and acknowledges him. They have exchanged less than twenty words in the past few days.

“Thank you for joining us despite your busy schedule,” Jungkook says, hands in the pockets of his thin jacket, hoping that his clothes and hair haven’t absorbed the greasy smell of the restaurant.

“Ah, I was… nevermind.” Namjoon sways a bit, back and forth, and Jungkook distantly notes that the alpha has had more to drink than him. “Any chance you’ve got a smoke?”

Jungkook pulls out a carton from his pocket. “If Seokjin hyung asks, I had none.”

With surprisingly steady fingers, Namjoon picks up a cigarette and smiles.

“If Seokjin hyung asks, I got a taxi home right away.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks before he lights both of their cigarettes, their heads pressed close together. Namjoon’s cologne and deodorant combined with his failing scent blockers make Jungkook’s head spin.

“I should know better than that, Jungkook-ah.”

Instant butterflies in his stomach.

“Can I call you that?” Namjoon adds belatedly. “Not at work but… it feels odd to be so formal when….”

“Please speak comfortably to me,” Jungkook rushes to say, even though the butterflies are on the move, brainlessly flapping about. He grips the strap of his shoulder bag, tugging the hem of his sweater down because his fly is partially unzipped.

Unfortunately, it only directs Namjoon’s gaze downward. The alpha sucks on his cigarette with his cheeks going a little hollow.

“Fuck,” he says raspily.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet. One bus arrives, but it would take him in the wrong direction.

“I didn’t know you were a smoker,” Namjoon asks when the bus has gone past them without slowing down.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says. “I don’t like those words that end in -er, because it implies consistency which I simply do not have as a person.”

“You’re a smart cookie, then.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line. He can’t ask if Namjoon bought him the cookie, can’t acknowledge the way he’s being ogled at, even though it makes his toes curl inside his cheap dress shoes.

“May I…?” Namjoon clears his throat, cigarette ash flaking onto the pavement, right between his evidently expensive shoes. “May I order a Kakao T to take you home?”

There’s a strange heat curling beneath Jungkook’s tailbone. Between his hips.

“The next bus will take me home. It’s very uh – convenient.”

“I know but,” Namjoon glances around, looking embarrassed, “I don’t like the idea of you taking it.”

Jungkook laughs to mask his bewilderment. “You sound just like Seokjin hyung from five years ago. He insisted on driving me everywhere, even though I made him read crime statistics to prove that being victimised by a complete stranger is rarer than people think.”

“Can you blame him, though?” Namjoon blurts out.

Then, he quickly shakes his head.

“Look, Jungkook-ah. I don’t even know how to drive but let me appease my inner alpha a little. It’s been through enough for one week.”

Jungkook is overcome by an urge to step closer to Namjoon, to feel the heat radiating from his skin, his slightly flushed cheeks. Why is it attractive to Jungkook that Namjoon doesn’t have a license while Jungkook himself does?

He could be helpful.

He could make the alpha proud.

The taxi is ordered and paid for by Namjoon. The humid night air has turned into a light drizzle, and Jungkook and Namjoon huddle under the shelter, almost shoulder to shoulder.

The alpha keeps glancing at Jungkook from the corner of his eye, and each weighted look has Jungkook’s tummy twisting and clenching.

Nothing happens, though.

The taxi pulls up to the bus shelter. Namjoon opens the door for Jungkook and then walks up to the driver’s side window.

The alpha’s voice is low when he addresses the driver, but Jungkook hears a few words of the exchange as a folded banknote changes hands:

“…so make sure that he gets home safe… my omega.”

The obvious lie, the extra tip – Jungkook’s brain refuses to process either of those things. His insides continue to twist on a dozen knots and loops, and he has to press his thighs together.

The ride home is extraordinarily smooth. The driver drops him off right in front of his building and keeps the engine running until Jungkook has made it up the stairs.

Because Namjoon paid him for that.

Jungkook steps out of his shoes and, without switching on the lights, goes to the bathroom and tosses his slacks and slick-damp panties in the laundry hamper.

///

The following week goes without incidents. Well, Jungkook finds himself with his hands full of busywork that may or may not be designed to keep him out of the way (and out of Namjoon’s sight), but he doesn’t complain because simply existing in the same room with the alpha takes up a tremendous amount of self-control.

Jungkook feels as though he’s constantly on the verge of saying something stupid or revealing a terrible secret or being outright desperate, so it’s much easier this way.

He has also grown closer with Hoseok and some of the junior members of the team who get their share of the shit jobs on their CEO’s never-ending list of inconveniences.

Jungkook works for his scheduled eight hours and leaves quietly, trying not to speculate if leaving on time would paint him as lazy and unmotivated. Seokjin hasn’t called him to his office, either. He seems content in knowing that Jungkook is always within an arm’s reach, easy to check on.

It lasts for a week – that milky uncertainty between events that are distinct enough to form lasting memories.

Jungkook is clearing his desk on a Friday afternoon. He shoves a half-empty bag of trail mix into his pocket and winds his branded lanyard around his hand. It has one of those emergency release plastic clips on them, as though there were a real risk that an enraged client would use it to strangle him. Or that he might just get it stuck between the closing lift doors.

What a way to go. Luckily, the company cares for the well-being of its employees.

Jungkook is zipping up his laptop bag when a light touch on his shoulder causes an unfortunate chain reaction: He bumps into his desk with a white-hot flash of pain on his hipbone – which in turn knocks over a pen holder and a small blind box figurine that resembles a rabbit.

“I’m so sorry!” Namjoon’s voice comes from somewhere alarmingly close. The alpha sounds genuinely embarrassed, like it never even occurred to him how an omega might be spooked by being snuck up on, even in a familiar environment.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s instincts are going haywire at the tiniest bit of physical contact. His inner omega seems hellbent on making everything a subgender issue.

Alpha prowling the forest and bumping into unassuming prey.

“I was just lost in my thoughts,” Jungkook offers in explanation. He meets Namjoon’s gaze to smile reassuringly, and suddenly a limit is hit. He stares, open-mouthed, even though there’s nothing unusual about the alpha’s outward appearance.

“Time to go home, then,” Namjoon says with an awkward smile. “Come on, I’m leaving, too.”

With a disbelieving squeak, Jungkook follows the alpha out of the building. The sun is streaking the tops of the buildings with gold, but darkness is creeping onto the streets below. Namjoon’s stride is brisk, determined to get home, and Jungkook thinks he’ll faint from embarrassment when he has to stop and gesture at the convenience store next to the street.

Kim Daepyo-nim should head home first. Jungkook utters something formal and cheesy like that, but Namjoon simply follows Jungkook into the brightly lit 7-Eleven and watches him pick out a topical scent blocker stick, double-strength.

When Jungkook moves to pay for the blockers, as well as a few impulse-buy triangle kimbaps, Namjoon’s hand flies to his pocket but relaxes a split-second later, so surely Jungkook must have imagined it.

“I read a study on the long-term side effects of scent blocker use,” Namjoon says as they head out again. “I can’t believe that we as a society have accepted them as the norm.”

Jungkook clutches the strap of his laptop bag more tightly. He has to suppress the urge to rub at his neck. Scent blockers form a subtle film over the gland, just like hours-old sunscreen. He tries to come up with some type of counterargument about how alphas have normalised scent blocker use in order to absolve themselves of the responsibility to control their urges around omegas, but his brain is working in slow motion.

At the metro station, Namjoon wonders out loud why they have never bumped into each other there, even though it’s often so crowded that it’s hard to tell which way is up. They board the first car, standing face to face with only Namjoon’s hand holding onto the railing setting an appropriate distance between them.

Something is happening, and it cannot be explained away with a few shots of soju and sleep deprivation. Namjoon has dents on his nose from wearing his glasses all day, and Jungkook feels perspiration gathering under his arms and on his temples.

While unsure of where exactly Namjoon lives, Jungkook assumes it’s closer to the office than Jungkook’s place in the periphery of Seoul’s urban sprawl. That’s why he’s surprised when the train starts to slowly empty out as the passengers reach their destinations, but Namjoon stays put.

Is it like that, again? Jungkook’s hopeful inner wolf wonders. Does Alpha want to see us all the way home?

It’s a ridiculous thought. Jungkook lives in a decently safe area – it’s peak commuting hours. The risk of harm coming to him is near zero.

“This – this is me,” Jungkook mutters when the announcement for his stop comes. Namjoon’s jaw clenches, his scent suddenly everywhere: smoky, masculine but somehow comforting.

The track curves to the left before the station, and Jungkook has to grab Namjoon’s arm to balance himself even though he’s taken the same metro hundreds of times before.

“Please say no, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says in a rough voice. “Say that I’ve misunderstood.”

Jungkook blinks. A whoosh of moist air hits them as the doors slide open.

“Call the National Intelligence Service’s hotline, 111, if you have any information on terror plots, industrial spies, or cyber-crimes. Thank you for your co-operation.”

Fuck, Jungkook thinks, his hand still on Namjoon’s bicep.

This is fucking unbelievable.

Jungkook steps out of the train car with Namjoon right behind him. The alpha doesn’t live anywhere close to him, does he? What is he thinking? Asking Jungkook to reject him like this, on the far end of a metro line.

Irrationally upset, Jungkook drags Namjoon out of the station and into an alleyway which he likes to cut through on his way home. There’s a seedy sort of bar on one side, and a Chinese-Korean restaurant whose owner gives Jungkook extra jjajangmyeon for free. It makes no sense for Namjoon to be here, but the alpha follows him without a word.

“I have nothing but instant ramyun at my place,” Jungkook says, patting his pockets for his keys because his building is just about the very last one in South Korea without electronic locks.

The ramyun is the least of his worries, though. Jungkook isn’t a messy person, but some of his preferences seem unpalatable to others because they go against what people think about omegas and their habits.

The walls of his one-room flat are bare. His nest is practically non-existent outside of his heats. In contrast, the vanity next to his bed is cluttered with skincare bottles and cheap makeup he wears once a month. He only switches on the big light when he needs to clean, but he can’t fall asleep without his mood lamp that paints the ceilings in every colour of the rainbow.

“This is it,” Jungkook says as he pushes the door open, as if he has actually invited Namjoon over.

The pretense lasts for five seconds. Namjoon’s hands come to Jungkook’s hips, his touch so loose that Jungkook could easily step out of his hold.

“I need to…” Namjoon’s shoulders are hunched. “God, I need to kiss you now. Will you let Alpha do that?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more in his life. He tries to nod, but Namjoon refuses to move an inch until he opens his mouth for that breathy, incredulous “Yes, please.”

Namjoon kisses him against the wall, sweet and hot and greedy. His tongue is in Jungkook’s mouth, his fingers at Jungkook’s nape, on his shoulders, so close to his mating gland without ever touching it directly.

It’s maddening how Namjoon’s thigh is slotted haphazardly between Jungkook’s legs. And then there’s the buckle of Namjoon’s belt, the slight swell of his stomach – the promising hardness of his cock.

Namjoon deepens the kiss even though there’s nowhere for him to go unless he wishes to fuck Jungkook through the drywall where a kind yet mentally ill ahjumma lives with her three pet rabbits who thump their paws when unhappy.

When Jungkook reaches blindly for Namjoon’s tie, grasping at the silk, the alpha lets out a scolding grunt. It has Jungkook dropping his hands and opening his mouth wider for Namjoon to explore, wanting to be good, willing, helpful.

“You drive me crazy, Jungkook-ah,” the alpha whispers against his mouth. “What do you want, hmm? Tell me.”

Jungkook whines because doesn’t want to make decisions. He doesn’t want to consider what this all means or doesn’t mean. He’s just an omega, just an omega –

Jungkook’s jacket slides to the floor, a couple of cashew nuts and dried bits of fruit coming out of his pocket. He forgot to put a rubber band around the bag. He forgets lots of things.

Namjoon walks him over to the bed where Jungkook has built a shoddy nest. A few simple steps. “Sit down, baby, get comfortable first.”

Jungkook feels frantic. He tells Namjoon that he doesn’t want comfortable. Doesn’t need it. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, and Namjoon looks at him with open, unmasked hunger until something less obvious flashes through his eyes.

Waiting is madness. Jungkook’s collarbones are out, and the alpha is staring at them.

“I want to smell you. Can I please do that?”

Jungkook is already wet, and he’s pretty sure his scent blockers are failing, so it’s cute that Namjoon is polite enough to ask.

He nods coyly, tugging open one more button of his work shirt. It causes Namjoon to plant a wet, uncoordinated kiss on his mouth and disappear into the bathroom.

Jungkook sits obediently in a patch of his own slick as the alpha returns with a damp washcloth and brings it to Jungkook’s neck. Gentle, circular motions. More slick dribbles out of Jungkook, and his nipples stiffen due to the cold air and the few droplets of cool water dripping down his chest, abs tensing, instincts riled up.

A slender finger tips Jungkook’s head back, and suddenly Namjoon is at his neck.

“Ah, alpha –”

It comes out like a reflex, but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind. He calls Jungkook a “sneaky little omega,” or something close to that, breathing in Jungkook’s scent straight from the source.

“You wore that perfume on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook replies shamelessly. The vanilla perfume, the skirt, anything to seduce the alpha in front of him. He wonders if Namjoon feels like a pervert – and if feeling like a pervert turns him on.

“Does Alpha like vanilla?” he asks Namjoon, helping the alpha undress him until he’s wearing nothing but a pair of black panties and a thin necklace that he rarely takes off. Black is usually Jungkook’s comfort colour, but being nearly naked in front of Namjoon makes him wish he wore something sexier. Earrings, lipgloss, a bit of lace…

“Do you like vanilla, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook shudders violently. They haven’t done more than a little kissing, but nothing about this feels vanilla. More like saccharine-sweet in the way that gives one a tummy ache.

Wrapping an arm around Namjoon’s broad shoulders, Jungkook pulls him down onto the bed, right on top of him. They resume making out, and time slows down into sticky molasses. Namjoon’s fingers find Jungkook’s cunt, petting over the panties – he’s sticky there as well.

They’re both growing impatient. Jungkook squirms in Namjoon’s hold, begging for a cock in a muffled voice. But Namjoon just keeps stroking him, the tips of his fingers teasing his entrance, as far as the fabric stretches. His thumb puts pressure on Jungkook’s clit, just enough to shut him up.

Jungkook is forced to come like that, Namjoon’s bodyweight pressing him into his own nest, his cunt desperately trying to clamp shut around Namjoon’s fingertips.

The orgasm only stokes the fire building in Jungkook’s gut. He’s so wet, a musky vanilla scent filling the room.

“Please,” Jungkook whispers. Namjoon is tugging his panties aside, and the cool air stings on the swollen tip of his clit and his drenched folds.

Jungkook hasn’t even seen Namjoon’s cock yet, hasn’t been instructed to get him hard. It’s all been about him, him, him.

Without a word, Namjoon pushes a finger into Jungkook. It sinks all the way to the knuckle with a slick noise.

“I’m uh… big,” Namjoon says bluntly, seeking eye contact with Jungkook as he pumps his finger in and out, teasing Jungkook’s fluttering, orgasm-sensitive walls. “We can do other things if you –”

What other things?

Jungkook’s omega is forlorn. He bucks his hips until Namjoon pulls his finger out and leans back just a little. In that small reprieve, Jungkook rolls over to his stomach and tucks his knees under himself, just barely lifting himself from the mattress.

It’s not the instinctual presenting that Jungkook would do in heat, but it’s the truth that being mounted from behind is the most comfortable for most omegas, especially male ones because of how their wombs are commonly tilted.

“I can… My cervix is sensitive, but we can… like this.”

Namjoon lets out an inhumane noise. Omegan reproductive systems and all.

“I have this implant in my arm,” he adds, throwing a shaky smile over his shoulder. “You don’t – ah, don’t have to worry about it.”

Truthfully, Jungkook has condoms in the thrifted drawer next to his bed, but they’re buried under dozens of miscellaneous items, and they’re for knot size 6, which is the most common size among alphas. If Namjoon is telling the truth, he probably orders his condoms online. Custom sizing.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when something blunt and hot nudges at his entrance. He’s still wearing his panties. Namjoon is breathing heavily.

Maybe they have gone mad, or this is the result of some one in a million biological compatibility that makes them act this way. Namjoon followed him home, what the fuck?

“I’m clean, but…” Namjoon mutters, grinding his hips against Jungkook’s backside, the head of his cock slipping between Jungkook’s legs and bumping against his clit.

Somehow, Jungkook can smell his precum.

He breathes in and says, “I’m sure, just… do it.”

Namjoon does it.

Three, smooth thrusts and he’s buried to the hilt, kissing Jungkook’s cervix, little tendrils of heat curling behind his belly button. It hurts, the stretch at Jungkook’s entrance, the lips of his pussy parted like a blooming flower.

Namjoon shushes him, distracting him from the pain by rubbing circles over his stomach and teasing his nipples until Jungkook is gasping into the mattress like he’s going to die.

“Sensitive baby,” Namjoon croons. That’s the last thing he says for a while. The alpha sets a steady pace, and Jungkook is jolted back and forth, his sad nesting blankets sliding off the bed.

Jungook’s brain is turned into mush, but he tries to picture how it would be in heat, building a real nest and showing it to Namjoon. Gaining the alpha’s approval, getting told just how fertile he smells, then.

Namjoon’s fingers on his clit bring Jungkook back to the present. He squeals, too much sensation, too many things to focus on.

“Wait, wait.”

Namjoon immediately stops moving. It’s so sudden and obedient that Jungkook nearly comes on the spot, clenching helplessly around Namjoon’s shaft.

“Can you knot?” Jungkook asks as his impending orgasm ebbs away.

Not all alphas can, out of cycle. Or their knot only swells halfway and goes down within a few minutes.

“Yeah, can you take it?”

Jungkook’s cunt clenches again, his feet arching. God he’s close, edging himself by accident.

“Please,” Jungkook says. The knot will split him in half. Omegas are stretchy things but it’s always harder when he’s not in heat.

It hurts already, this vague pressure toward his tailbone. Namjoon’s thrusts first pick up pace and then slow down like a wave. Jungkook’s orgasm creeps up on him even though he’s been on the edge for an indefinite amount of time.

Coming on Namjoon’s swelling knot hurts, too, his pussy trying desperately to contract around the intrusion and his clit throbbing despite Namjoon having stopped paying attention to the little nub. Jungkook has never had sex like this, and yet – this is sex in its barest, ugliest form.

Namjoon’s sweat-slick belly slaps against Jungkook’s backside, his knot buried deep and impossibly snug inside Jungkook’s heat.

“That’s it,” the alpha murmurs over the ringing sound in Jungkook’s ears.

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. Namjoon is coming a lot, grunting and mouthing at Jungkook’s nape, praising him for milking his knot well.

It’s a bizarre feeling: his omega perfectly satisfied, eager to submit. Doesn’t even mind the state of their nest.

When Namjoon finally pulls out, Jungkook sits docilely on the bed and lets the alpha wipe him clean between the legs, first using his fingers and then the washcloth from earlier.

Jungkook grits his teeth at the soreness, but he’s more interested in Namjoon’s softening cock, darker than the rest of his body and ruddy at the tip. It’s not monstrously long, but it’s thick, framed by heavy balls and a patch of dark hair. An alpha’s cock.

Saliva pools under Jungkook’s tongue when he imagines the alpha getting impatient, wanting to fuck when Jungkook was still sore. Jungkook would offer his mouth instead, the wet clutch of his throat.

Jungkook swallows and turns his head.

He realises that neither of them has eaten after lunch, so he puts the water to boil and asks Namjoon, “Hot or mild?”

///

When Jungkook fully wakes up to the sound of the front door closing, he’s not surprised.

He remembers Namjoon’s expression from last night, that “What have I done?” quality to his smile as he pressed a wet kiss to Jungkook’s lips.

They had instant noodles with two eggs each, and after that, Namjoon told Jungkook to get on the flimsy kitchen table so that he could eat him out. Long, soothing licks first, and then pushing two fingers into his sore cunt and crooking them just so.

Jungkook came so hard he sobbed, and once he had slightly recovered, Namjoon took him a second time, Jungkook straddling his lap and squirming every time the alpha thrusted balls-deep, shushing him – “You can take it, good omega.”

Driven by their instincts, Jungkook's panties never came off properly, and Namjoon never managed to remove his socks.

Jungkook rolls over in bed as more fragments of last night come back to him: Namjoon coaxing an orgasm out of Jungkook by applying pressure on his lower abdomen while grinding his knot against his g-spot. Namjoon pissing into the toilet with the door half-open, his long legs and sculpted back illuminated by the ceiling light.

Years ago, Jungkook watched a grainy porn clip where an alpha pissed on their omega. The omega had seemed to like it.

Jungkook lets out a groan, rubbing his eyes, telling his thoughts to stop bouncing around. Not that it has ever helped.

He takes a shower, the traces of Namjoon’s scent and cum flushing down the drain, much to his inner wolf’s dismay. He cooks himself breakfast and scrolls aimlessly on social media. There are multiple AI videos of glass fruit getting sliced in half, and a clip of little kids dressed as bunnies and tortoises and dancing in a highly synchronised manner.

Jungkook hops around his flat on all fours just to prove to himself that he’s agile enough, but it only makes him sweaty again.

He texts Yoongi and Jimin, individually instead of using their three-way group chat, but both of them seem busy. It’s Saturday, after all.

What do rich CEOs do on the weekends? More work? Golfing? Dropping ten million won on a nice watch?

Well, Namjoon is nowhere near chaebol levels of wealth, but Jungkook knows that Seokjin has made good money, so Namjoon too must be doing well for himself.

Jungkook lies down on the floor and puts his feet up on the edge of his bed. Then, without thinking it through, he scrolls down his contacts until he finds Taehyung’s number.

He can’t remember a single instance of calling Taehyung on the phone. The older omega has texted Jungkook many times, but he’s bad at replying in a timely manner. He’s quick to open new messages but often decides that it would seem strange if he replied right away.

And then something else comes up.

Jungkook almost gives up, but on the fourth ring, Taehyung’s warm, low voice greets him.

“Did you call by accident?”

Jungkook winces, feeling his cheeks heat up. “No, hyung, I… I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.”

“Not at all. I’m on a little weekend getaway with your cousin.”

“Ah, in that case, please enjoy yourself…”

Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I’m in no rush. Hyung is in the pool and I’m waiting for my massage appointment.”

“Right.” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat and stares up at the slightly yellowed ceiling. The previous tenant smoked indoors.

“I just wanted to ask you something. About your relationship.”

“Oh?”

Jungkook powers through the expectant silence. “So, the dynamic you have is pretty traditional, isn’t it? Did you always want that?”

Taehyung lets out a surprised chuckle, but he doesn’t sound offended. “No, I didn’t always picture my life to be this way, but with hyung it felt completely natural. Being submissive, not working and so on.”

Jungkook hums. “Do you ever feel guilty about wanting that because it’s exactly what the people in power want us to act like?”

“That’s an interesting question,” Taehyung says earnestly. “I guess for me it doesn’t matter because I know I’m doing it of my own volition and not to please my mate. On top of that, hyung is a beta, and we’re not eager to have pups any time soon or open up our relationship to anyone else, so me leading a stereotypically omegan life doesn’t serve the society’s agenda in any way.”

“You’re so cool, hyung.”

Taehyung laughs again. “What made you think of that all of a sudden? Are you dating someone?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook answers with a sigh. “I’m just trying to figure out what I want for myself in the future.”

“It’s a big decision, yes. But you don’t have to commit to anything like I have. Even if you decide to get mated or enter a dynamic with someone. Situations change.”

“Yeah. I know that.”

Jungkook shifts his hips because they’re starting to ache. He remembers Namjoon’s strong hands holding him open.

He shudders and clamps his thighs together, still on the floor with his left arm spread out.

“See you on Monday, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung says. It must be time for his massage. Jungkook ends the call and fantasises about spending an entire weekend in omegaspace, getting used and pampered in equal measures.

///

On Monday, Jungkook arrives at the office with his heart in his throat. He’s wearing his regular trousers but paired with a blouse that’s more omegan in design compared to his other work shirts. It makes his waistline more pronounced and reveals an extra inch of his neck.

Hoseok greets him and says that he looks well-rested, even though Jungkook is as tense as a wire.

“I emailed you about a new task,” Hoseok adds, already looking back to his screen. He’s wearing rimless glasses which make him look very handsome.

Jungkook goes to his desk, sweating profusely. He can’t focus on anything because of the approaching Monday meeting. More people trickle in, exchanging hellos, and Jungkook wants to curl up in his creaky office chair and disappear. Or crawl under his desk and make a nest out of the break room’s sofa cushions.

He feels cold and dysregulated, but no one seems to notice. Instead, he gets: “Hey Jeon, did you get a new haircut?” and “Assistant Jeon, there’s some coffee left if you want it.”

Yes, please, Jungkook does want it. He goes to the meeting room early with his laptop and coffee mug, slouching to make himself small.

The first half of the meeting goes well enough.

Namjoon talks about a conference which Hoseok’s team – including Jungkook – will be attending at the end of the month, but it seems like a problem for future Jungkook to deal with. Then, Hoseok gives a short presentation on a new client they acquired.

Namjoon doesn’t look at Jungkook, nor does he address the rest of the team while Hoseok speaks.

He keeps clicking his pen and scribbling something in his notebook. The cover is made of cork. Probably recycled.

Jungkook bites his lip. His hands are cold. It’s the AC’s fault, must be.

Disaster strikes when people are getting ready to leave, a soft chatter filling the room: lunch plans, approaching deadlines, who stole Soomin’s yoghurt drink from the fridge?

“Assistant Jeon,” Namjoon’s voice suddenly booms over the rest. It’s not that loud or jarring, in theory, but Jungkook’s inner omega takes over in an instant. He draws his shoulder blades back and tips his chin.

It only lasts for a few seconds. Namjoon’s mouth forms a perfect ‘oh’, and his fancy notebook hits the floor with a thud.

Hoseok, who is switching the meeting room projector off, crouches to pick it up. Then, he looks at where Namjoon is looking.

It’s like getting doused with ice-cold water. Jungkook flees the room even though he never found out what Namjoon wanted from him.

Everything is a mess. Jungkook hides in the bathroom for a while, combing fingers through his hair and trying to understand why the omega looking back at him in the mirror looks healthy as ever when he feels nothing but.

They hooked up once, end of story. Namjoon left, Alpha left and made his stance clear. They work at the same company. Namjoon calls him “Assistant Jeon” and Jungkook does what he’s told. He obeys. He’s a good omega for Alpha.

God fucking dammit.

Jungkook draws a deep breath through his nose. The world tilts back into its place and he almost laughs while washing his hands, which is a bit unnecessary seeing that he never used the toilet.

The hallway outside the door is quiet, or it looks that way.

“Assistant Jeon,” comes a voice from Jungkook’s left. His knees buckle like the poorly attached legs of an IKEA chair that no one over the age of five should ever sit on. Strong hands grasp onto him, one wrapping around his waist and the other too close to his nape.

Jungkook would be really appreciative of the help if only he didn’t go limp like a scruffed pup. Namjoon’s scent wraps around him, calming, soothing pheromones mixed with mild laundry detergent.

“Fuck,” Jungkook slurs.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Namjoon replies, letting Jungkook lean heavily into his side while they make their way to Namjoon’s office – because they seem to have an intuitive agreement that whatever is happening between them must not reach other people’s ears.  

“The others are in the break room or getting lunch downstairs,” Namjoon says as he leads Jungkook to the couch in his office. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m cold,” Jungkook blurts out without thinking. He’s shivering now.

Namjoon removes his suit jacket and drapes it over Jungkook like a makeshift blanket.

“You scared me,” the alpha says. “You left the meeting in a hurry, and no one saw where you went.”

“Well, I did bare my neck to you in the middle of a meeting,” Jungkook says dryly. At the same time, he wants to press his face into the luxurious material of Namjoon’s jacket and inhale. He wants to put it in his nest, under the desk. Yes, that would be good.

“And I think Manager Jung saw,” Jungkook adds when Namjoon frowns at him.

“Hoseok – Manager Jung can be discreet,” the alpha says listlessly.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. He’s not angry, not yet.

“When you left my place,” he says, putting emphasis behind each word, “what did you think would happen after?”

Namjoon’s winces. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t… know?” Jungkook’s eyelids feel heavy. Namjoon’s scent, his concern and hesitation – his omega urges him to call for the alpha, appease him. If he went belly-up and stuck his tongue out, maybe he’d be reassured.

Jungkook shakes his head, clutching the lapels of Namjoon’s jacket. When the alpha reaches a hand toward him, perhaps to adjust the lapels of the jacket on his shoulders, Jungkook’s head lolls instinctively to the side.

“Fucking hell, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon chokes out. There’s arousal in his scent, squashed under other, more urgent emotions. What to do, what to do, what to do? Something like that.

“My inner wolf,” Jungkook explains with a shrug. Telling Namjoon to take responsibility would seem futile.

This time, Namjoon reaches all the way. His hand curls lightly around the exposed side of Jungkook’s neck, his larger form hovering over Jungkook, safe, solid…

“When you look at me like that, you don’t even realise,” Namjoon starts, but the sentence trails off into the pheromone-thick air.

Jungkook bares his little teeth omega canines, coaxing Namjoon to squeeze a little harder.

“I look at you like what?” he whispers.

Namjoon plays along. Leans even closer. His eyes are glossy but not glossed over.

“Like you’re going to ruin my life,” he says.

Jungkook squeezes his thighs together. They’re going to ruin each other’s lives, and their inner wolves will be ecstatic about it.

///

Another week passes – Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday – stumbling over the finish line with a sprained ankle.

Namjoon visits Jungkook’s desk more often than would seem organic, though no one has called them out for it yet.

The main problem is that Jungkook receives his tasks from Hoseok, but he struggles to focus on anything with Namjoon’s scent lingering in the air. The alpha has to come to him and explicitly order Jungkook to work. A sneaky scruff here and there, words of encouragement. Make alpha proud and finish this worksheet, hmm? Remember to drink some water and use the bathroom after.

It’s embarrassing as hell. Jungkook, who has ADHD and almost flunked out of school because of it, has never experienced executive dysfunction such as this.

This is why some omegas choose the traditional lifestyle; he understands it now. The added friction is hardly worth it. In a corporate setting, authority is split and delegated, but Jungkook’s stupid hindbrain refuses to accept anything but Namjoon as his alpha, his leader.

At the same time, his inner omega doesn’t feel secure in their dynamic – and for a good reason, because said dynamic doesn’t really exist.

Jungkook knows he has to resign and find another job. No power gradients, something simple and easy, an omega’s job.

He knows it, and yet, does nothing to update his resume. Whether it’s pride or stubbornness is up for interpretation. Jungkook goes through the motions, smiles and nods and attends his meetings.

There are only two precarious moments, the first of which takes place on Thursday.

“You seem distracted,” Hoseok tells Jungkook in the morning. It’s hard to say why Manager Jung brings it up at that moment – he’s been a mess all week – but he seems genuinely concerned.

Jungkook says that he’s alright. Poorly slept night, a migraine attack. Listing excuses is easy because Jungkook hasn’t escaped the physical symptoms that omegas so frequently experience due to instinctual instability.

Blaming everything on his delicate omegan health gets Hoseok off his back. Unfortunately, it also makes his manager fuss over the office conditions. Are the lights too harsh on Jungkook’s omegan eyes? Is the air conditioning reinforcing alpha-centric standards?

Jungkook quickly realises how overwhelming it is to have three wolves pay so much attention to him. Hoseok is trying to be helpful but stern with him, Seokjin is always lurking in the background, keeping an eye on Jungkook’s every move, and Namjoon is a wild card that might set his inner omega off at any moment. For example, by leaving a second cookie on his desk along with a fresh blister pack of pain reliever – the exact kind that is proven most effective for pheromone-induced migraines.

The second (and much worse) incident hits on Friday. Jungkook runs around all morning, trying to keep up with Hoseok’s instructions even though his instincts are telling him to slow down and disregard everything that Hoseok said.

Jungkook takes his lunch outside just to sit on a park bench and munch on a plain sandwich while restlessly bouncing his leg up and down.

Once he gets back to the office, Namjoon is standing by his desk with his hands in his pockets. He asks where Jungkook had gone.

“Outside,” Jungkook says, almost laughing.

“For your lunch? You usually eat up here or at the cafeteria?”

“So?”

The strange conversation is already turning heads. Hoseok has a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, but he’s too close not to overhear.

“I expect you to stay within the building from now on.”

Jungkook blinks. He isn’t gullible enough to think that Namjoon has the right to make such demands. It’s against the law, against the company handbook, so much extra work for the HR team.

It’s not a command Namjoon can give as Jungkook’s boss. It’s something an alpha says to their omega. A controlling one at that.

Jungkook coughs loudly to mask any other noises that might be escaping: chirps, whines and so on. There is nothing Jungkook can do about the small trickle of slick leaking into his underwear, though, so he bolts into an empty conference room where he ends up walking in circles around the long table.

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon calls out from the door.

“Not again,” Jungkook mutters, rubbing the achy spot between his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger.

“This isn’t working,” Namjoon says.

“And water is wet.”

Jungkook flashes a weak smile in Namjoon’s direction as the alpha stalks closer, as he runs a hand through Jungkook’s sweaty hair.

It’s similar to holding back a sneeze, Jungkook thinks. There’s this unrelenting pressure, an urge to make himself smaller. The pressure pops, and Jungkook falls onto his knees on the grey carpet. Namjoon’s hand remains in his hair, tugging slightly.

“You submit so sweetly,” the alpha whispers. “Has anyone told you that?”

“Some people, yes.”

Wrong answer, Jungkook realises when Namjoon tugs harder.

“I don’t… I don’t have a partner right now. That’s the root of the entire problem.”

The problem being that Jungkook is on his knees for his superior. Anyone could come knocking on the conference room door. Seokjin, Hoseok…

Jungkook gasps, his back arching as pain tingles down his scalp and neck. He’s so wet, too. Studies say that omegas need to come often to stay happy and healthy, not just during their heat cycles as was believed in the past. Omegas with disrupted fertility cycles were dragged to clinics owned by dubious doctors who’d prod at them and loudly announce that they were in need of a paroxysm, an outburst of emotion. That of course was nothing but an intense, tearful orgasm after a period of neglect.

Some cultures were even more prudish, trying to repress omegan sexuality further as a means of control. There are omegas who actually benefit from their alpha or beta letting them come only on a set schedule, but it depends on the couple’s dynamic and their individual needs. Jungkook finds the idea equally intriguing and mortifying.

“Do you need to go down before you can come up?” Namjoon questions, and suddenly, Jungkook has no idea how long he’s spent on his knees.

He swallows thickly, wishing his mouth were filled with something, and nods at the alpha.

“Good boy,” Namjoon huffs.

It’s terrifying how much Jungkook is affected by those two words. He rubs his thighs together and tries to open his mouth.

“Alright, here we go,” the alpha murmurs, and Jungkook finds himself back on his feet and bent over at the waist, Namjoon’s palm pressing down on the back of his neck.

“May I touch you?” Namjoon asks in a low voice. “You smell like you need to be settled, but it’s fine if that’s a limit for you.”

Jungkook’s belly is tight and warm, his cheeks hot with his own blood.

“The door…?”

“Locked from the inside. Alpha will take care of you, sweetheart. You never have to worry when you’re with me.”

“Oh, okay,” Jungkook murmurs. Almost immediately, Namjoon is unbuttoning Jungkook’s slacks and tucking a hand below the waistband. There’s just enough space, Jungkook has a small waist even for an omega, so his clothes rarely fit perfectly anyway.

Namjoon works his fingers past Jungkook’s underwear, too, and slips a single finger into his pussy.

Jungkook tries to squirm, but the alpha just explores his soft, slick walls at an unhurried pace.

“This is all you’ll get for now, omega. Focus on how it feels, how much you want more.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand. He tries to clench around the long yet regrettably slender digit, but he’s too wet for it to work.

His thoughts are getting even fuzzier, his cunt squelching lewdly even though they’re both still mostly dressed. How is it that Namjoon can render him dumb and drooly with one finger?

Something builds deep in his core. It’s too sluggish to be a proper orgasm, or so he thinks. Namjoon is kneading at his g-spot, small circles just inside his cunt. His other fingers rest against Jungkook’s entrance, never slipping in but applying tantalising pressure. Jungkook has seen alphas do this to their mates in public – subtly fingering them, settling them, making them come while shushing them in low voices. It’s usually a dark corner of a cinema or a club.

The bright office lights are too much. A reminder of how indecent all of this is.

Jungkook’s thighs shake violently as he comes, desperately clenching around the alpha’s finger as if it were his fully popped knot. It’s great and terrible all at once. Namjoon rubs at his walls until the contractions fade, and a bit past that point, too – every elusive drop of pleasure coaxed out of him.

If possible, Jungkook feels the loss of fullness more acutely than he does after getting knotted. Namjoon pulls his slick-stained panties back over his mound and pats his pussy in a condescending manner when Jungkook tries to suppress a whine. Then, the alpha guides him over to a chair and sucks his own fingers clean of Jungkook’s slick.

Only a few moments later, Jungkook is back to feeling like himself. He’s aware of the sweet afterburn of his orgasm, as well as the slight aches of his body caused by a gym session, but it’s as though there’s a sturdy door between his basest needs and logical mind.

Communication is key, sex is never the answer! stated every single omegas’ magazine in the 2010s. What those progressive columnists failed to take into account were silly omegas like Jeon Jungkook who cannot separate their consciousness from their inner wolf unless a hot, older alpha finger-fucks them in a conference room. God, he’s a mess.

“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asks. Someone has left a box of paper napkins on a side table, and the alpha picks up a handful to wipe his fingers dry.

“More clearheaded,” Jungkook admits. He can’t believe he actually went down on his knees for Namjoon. Some less honourable alpha might have taken advantage. Jungkook is unmated, at a fertile age, highly submissive. He ought to be more careful.

“I’m glad. It’s been a tough week for you, hasn’t it?”

Jungkook nods, nibbling on his lower lip. His soaked panties cling to the crease between his legs.

“Would you like me to back off from now on?”

Quickly, Jungkook shakes his head. He’s still mulling things over, but only because he’s trying to come up with some sort of justification for his own actions.

Namjoon doesn’t continue, so Jungkook glances at him shyly. “I think… this was just the final straw for me.”

“The final straw?” the alpha repeats.

“You, Alpha,” Jungkook says, allowing himself to smile. “I’ve pretended for a while that Seokjin hyung keeping an eye on me was enough for me, but… I’m not that kind of omega.”

Namjoon bares his teeth a little. “I don’t like when you talk about Seokjin like that.”

“You are making it weird, not me,” Jungkook says lightly. “He’s been more than helpful, but he’s my cousin and happily mated. I always needed more than what he could provide.”

“I shouldn’t provide you with anything, either,” Namjoon reminds him. His eyes are dark as they drag over Jungkook’s rumpled clothes.

Jungkook shrugs. “My omega doesn’t see a problem there. And neither does your alpha.”

Namjoon takes a deep breath, shaking his head as though in disbelief.

“Tomorrow evening,” he says then. “Come to my house. You may stay for the evening or sleep over, it’s your choice, but we need to talk.”

Jungkook’s belly throws a backflip.

“Yes, daepyo-nim,” he says, only for Namjoon to frown.

“Uh… Alpha hyung?”

Namjoon’s smile is crooked but genuine. “We’ll work on it.”

Jungkook goes to the door, encouraged by how steady he feels, but the alpha stops him by grabbing his wrist.

“One more thing. When did you last touch yourself, sweetheart?”

In an instant, Jungkook blushes so hard that his cheeks hurt. “Um. L–last night.”

“See that you won’t do that anymore,” Namjoon says in a perfectly conversational tone. “I’ll be in charge of your needs from now on.”

Jungkook’s cunt clenches around the phantom sensation of Namjoon’s finger inside him.

“If you feel too needy before tomorrow, you may call or text me. Alpha will take care of it.”

“You… you will?” Jungkook grimaces at how dumb he sounds to his own ears.

“Yes, darling. It’s for the best that you don’t have privacy around this matter. I need to know everything in order to keep you safely out of omegaspace in public.”

Jungkook suppresses a shudder and tells the alpha that he understands. Then, he slips out of the meeting room, through the empty corridor and into the employee bathroom where he lowers his pants and wipes off as much slick as he can.

In the afternoon, Hoseok praises him for being extra productive. He asks if Jungkook is taking the supplements he suggested in passing, and Jungkook lies that he has.

///

At eight o’clock on Friday, Jungkook finds himself at Namjoon’s doorstep.

The alpha lives in one of those residential complexes with all sorts of services and creature comforts at his disposal, and Jungkook feels terribly out of place. He’s wearing his only skirt, black and pleated, with thick winter stockings and a knitted sweater. His hair is in a low ponytail, out of the way, and he only has a few small hoops in each ear. It’s still more jewellery than what Namjoon is used to seeing him in, so Jungkook is nervous.

“I brought a weekend bag,” he says in lieu of a proper greeting when the alpha opens the door. 

While Jungkook takes his shoes off, Namjoon is shamelessly checking him out, looking up and down his body.

It’s nice, the quiet appreciation which Namjoon hasn’t indulged in much before. He takes Jungkook’s jacket and bag, commenting on the lack of gloves and scarf. Jungkook giggles and protests that it’s not cold enough, yet, to which Namjoon shoots back that omegas run colder than alphas and should always be properly bundled up or burrowing in their nest.

Jungkook shivers, wondering how Namjoon would’ve reacted if he had arrived at the alpha’s place without the warm stockings.

Oblivious to Jungkook’s musings, Namjoon gives him a cursory tour of his home. It would be an exaggeration to call Namjoon’s home a luxury penthouse, but it’s on the thirteenth floor of the building, and the floor-to-ceiling windows give off an illusion of a larger space.

Everything about Namjoon’s home screams high-end, but the décor isn’t straight out of an interior design magazine like Jungkook expected. There are stacks of books scattered around the living room: in a tall pile next to an armchair, on kitchen island, even on the TV stand next to an indiscreetly placed box of tissues. There are also many plants in various conditions.

“I found this one in the recycling area,” Namjoon says proudly when Jungkook looks at one of the plants for too long. “Can you believe that one from a garden centre would cost at least one hundred thousand won?”

Jungkook says that he can’t, and Namjoon smiles so brightly that his dimple shows.

“Are you hungry?” the alpha asks next.

“No,” says Jungkook. They’re in the living room and Jungkook wonders how to keep the conversation flowing, keep Namjoon smiling because it’s the loveliest thing in the world.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to work hard at all. Namjoon cups his jaw with gentle fingers and smiles again.

“Thirsty?”

“No, Alpha.”

“Nervous?”

Namjoon’s grip tightens incrementally.

Jungkook swallows and says, “A little bit.”

“Do you need to use the bathroom?”

A sudden warmth spreads through Jungkook’s core, radiating outwards, making his toes curl inside the woollen stockings.

“I think you should, just in case.”

Jungkook slips out of Namjoon’s grip, his head spinning at the sudden change in the atmosphere. This is what he’s here for, isn’t he? To lose control safely and responsibly. It’s self-care.

In the bathroom, Jungkook only switches on the light above the sink because he doesn’t like when it’s too bright. He closes the door but leaves it unlocked. Namjoon buys expensive toilet paper, he notices, and expensive hand soap.

Namjoon is waiting for him right outside the bathroom. A hand in his pocket, he looks boyishly hopeful, just for a moment.

“Did you think about it last night?” the alpha asks. “Being naughty?”

Despite his startled gasp, Jungkook counters with, “I could have touched myself, and you wouldn’t know.”

“You would have told me,” Namjoon says cockily.

“How can you tell?”

“Because that’s how you are. You want nothing more than to please me and do the right thing, Jungkook-ah, even when you’re faced with an unexpected challenge.”

Jungkook says something like Uh-huh. They’re still standing near the bathroom door, and Jungkook is relieved that he only went there to pee.

“I may have implied that the only reason for my request was that I wanted to keep you out of omegaspace,” Namjoon says. “The truth is that I want my omega to be a little helpless when it comes to pleasure. I want them to be so used to receiving alpha’s help that they just drip and wait patiently to be taken care of – or instructed to touch themselves to alpha’s liking.”

Jungkook presses his legs together, thinking about having to ask for a simple touch, for the right to use his own toys. He doesn’t even know anymore if that’s a traditional thing or just a Jungkook-and-Namjoon thing.

“I thought about it,” he blurts out. Namjoon smiles, dimples again, a tugging sensation in Jungkook’s belly.

“You thought about being naughty but didn’t do anything about it?”

Jungkook nods. The alpha keeps smiling, but he’s already guiding him toward the kitchen, which is really just a part of the living room due to the open plan design.

The alpha studies Jungkook’s face as it’s illuminated by the hanging light fixture above the kitchen island. So far, they’ve been standing around in various areas of Namjoon’s house, which is in stark contrast to how they’ve acted before when allowed a moment of privacy. And Jungkook is in a skirt!

“Why did you come to see me tonight?”

Jungkook swallows, confused. “I thought you knew…”

“Yes, yes,” Namjoon gestures impatiently with his hand. “But I want you to tell me plainly what you expect, what you’re comfortable with. You came here dressed as every alpha’s wet dream even though I gave you no instructions to dress seductively, and I’m already quite seduced as it is.”

Jungkook feels like a specimen under Namjoon’s magnifying glass as he leans against the countertop, arching his back just a little.

“Is it wrong to wish that you find me pretty?”

That you won’t go back on your words after a simple fuck – and that you won’t leave again when you get uncomfortable?

“It’s not wrong,” Namjoon says, shaking his head. “And you’re so unbelievably pretty and sexy – I’m so lucky that you let me see you like this.”

Jungkook’s back arches more. Namjoon leans forward with the movement, careful not to touch him yet.

“I’ll ask you again. Why did you come here?”

Jungkook snorts, fighting his own embarrassment. “To be fucked, Alpha. Isn’t that too obvious?”

“I would never take that right for granted. There are other ways for an alpha to make an omega submit.”

“I’m sure, but I’m specifically consenting to you putting your knot inside me.”

Dangerous waters, Jungkook thinks. Namjoon’s expression shifts. His eyes…

“How about dirty talk? Anything you dislike?”

“Don’t call me stupid or useless,” Jungkook breathes out.

“You’re a useful boy, aren’t you?” Namjoon teases. “How are you with pain?”

“I don’t mind it,” Jungkook says, then changes his mind. “Sometimes I need it.”

Namjoon asks a few follow-up questions: Where can he hit Jungkook and with what? Can he come from pain? Does he like it combined with pleasure or humiliation?

Jungkook answers to the best of his ability, wet and flushed even though Namjoon has barely touched him.

They continue talking about Namjoon’s likes and dislikes, their limits and preferences. This type of negotiation doesn’t feel very traditional, but every single one of Jungkook’s replies does.

His thoughts are still whirring when Namjoon kisses him, soft but a little greedy, his tongue swiping across Jungkook’s lower lip and making him melt.

Disarmed by the kisses, Jungkook doesn’t even have time for embarrassment when Namjoon sneaks a hand between their bodies, underneath Jungkook’s skirt, and rubs him over the layers of clothing even though Jungkook is already plenty wet.

“Alpha wants you soaked,” Namjoon clarifies, kissing Jungkook again as he locates the general area of his clit. “Should be able to slip right in whenever.”

“You – you can,” Jungkook stutters. He can take Namjoon, the ache of being split open with little prep. Due to some evolutionary misstep, alphas became so well-endowed that a small subset of omegas can only take an alpha’s cock comfortably when they’re deep in heat, preferring external stimulation, toys or beta partners. Jungkook isn’t completely sure whether he falls in the lucky group which doesn’t have a problem, or if he’s just that fond of pain.

Namjoon stops touching Jungkook, his clit tingling in anticipation as the alpha peels the stockings down his legs, helping Jungkook step out of them. Then go his knitted sweater – and his panties, dark grey satin this time.

The alpha runs his thumb through the smear of slick and shoves Jungkook’s underwear in his pocket.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He’s so turned on that his pussy stings.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” Namjoon says. The skirt stays on as Jungkook is bent over the kitchen counter, his nipples coming into contact with the cool marble surface. Expensive again. Namjoon is removing his belt; Jungkook thinks he’s already developing a Pavlovian response to it.

“I wanted to fuck you in my office,” Namjoon says. “And in that meeting room, across every surface.”

“I would have let you.”

Namjoon huffs, his thumb pressing into Jungkook’s cleft and sliding toward his wet slit. He’s going by feel because the skirt is still in the way.

He’s not stretching Jungkook for his cock, only spreading his labia to the side. Jungkook is hairless there, hastily shaved because he didn’t have time to book a waxing appointment. It’s still smooth and soft and inviting, his pussy…

“Fuck, I changed my mind. I want to see you in my bed.”

Jungkook whines as Namjoon’s warmth disappears. Walking through the house in nothing but a skirt makes him feel ridiculous, even though Namjoon’s cock is out, and the alpha is unbothered by it.

Luckily, Namjoon’s bedroom is the best part of his house. It’s airy and fresh smelling despite the alpha musk clinging to the bedsheets. There are more plants near the window, a few paintings on the wall.

Jungkook could easily nest here, make the space his own.

“On the bed, darling,” Namjoon reminds him. Shivers run down Jungkook’s back because this time, it’s not Namjoon’s fingers but the blunt, searing-hot tip of his cock pressing into him, spreading his slick around.

Namjoon fucks into Jungkook as soon as the resistance of his body gives. He’s drenched to the point that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later.

It’s quick and slippery and intense. Jungkook is being used for the alpha’s pleasure, trained to take cock, tight but pliant.

Namjoon calls him gorgeous between thrusts, encouraging Jungkook to rest his upper body against his folded elbows. Lower. Even lower.

Time blurs. Jungkook enjoys the heavy slap of Namjoon’s balls against his clit – and soon, the swell of his knot that forces the alpha to slow down.

Instead of burying his knot deep into Jungkook, Namjoon turns his thrusts shallower. Jungkook’s entrance suckles greedily on the thick cockhead inside him, but Namjoon wraps a hand around his swelling knot and comes like that, pumping and squeezing his cum inside. It’s a bizarre sensation, being so wet inside yet mostly empty. Jungkook doesn’t understand what the alpha is after – until he does.

Namjoon pulls out and flips Jungkook’s skirt up, hooking two fingers between the sensitive lips of his cunt.

Messy, exposed.

How is Jungkook meant to ever look Namjoon directly in the eye again?

Jungkook shudders from head to toes as Namjoon starts rubbing his clit with his other hand: fast, steady circles that have Jungkook’s cunt quivering.

He comes with a muffled whine, clutching the hem of his skirt, and the contractions make Namjoon’s cum gush and ooze out of him, down his thighs and onto the bed below, the high thread count sheets.

A pleased hum follows. Namjoon is gathering his own release with two fingers to push it back inside Jungkook, using it in place of lube. Jungkook flinches at the oversensitivity but doesn’t even think of trying to get away or calling him out for giving so easily into his depraved instincts.

Cum is a deterrent, alphas with their possessive alpha brains tend to think. At least Namjoon hasn’t rubbed it into Jungkook’s scent glands yet.

“Here we go,” Namjoon says and draws his fingers away. As though gravity is no longer a concern; he has taken care of it.

///

Namjoon seems endlessly amused by Jungkook’s orgasms and the fascinating variety of ways they can be pulled out of his trembling body.

He keeps saying that a good omega comes when their alpha deems it necessary. And his stance is that omegas need to come a lot.

Namjoon fingers Jungkook in the shower, and again on the couch, despite Jungkook’s weak protests over the fear of ruining the fancy leather.

Eventually, Jungkook starts to suspect that Namjoon simply wants to tire him out in order to get to the deeper levels of submission underneath. The orgasms lose focus, turning fuzzy and unclear. Jungkook feels the physiological effects still, the short burst of feel-good hormones, but there’s a disconnect, an ever-widening gap. Like sinking back into a sea made of velvet.

To the alpha’s credit, his plan is working. Before midnight, Jungkook’s cunt is sore and tingly, and his mouth is latched onto the alpha’s scent gland, huffing and tasting as much as he can before the alpha loses his patience and makes him submit.

When it happens, Jungkook keens happily as Namjoon presses him into the couch cushion, not to fuck but to settle the score once and for all. Namjoon can’t be that much heavier than him, but Jungkook feels tiny under his larger frame, baring his neck and letting the alpha scent him all over: his neck and wrists, his belly, even the mound of his pussy.

Jungkook’s eyes are closing, but he vaguely registers Namjoon carrying him to bed, tucking him in. The sheets smell like they’ve just come out of the dryer, even though he can’t remember Namjoon leaving him alone for very long.

“It’s not your nest, but I tried decorating a little,” the alpha hums, and oh how Jungkook wishes he were more awake to examine his surroundings.

Sleep takes him like a tidal wave. In his dream, Namjoon turns into a huge, grey wolf who drags him into a dark cave by his ankle. Jungkook isn’t scared of him. He knows what Alpha wants. He’s a good omega now, exactly where he should be.

///

A sleek mocha pot bubbles cheerfully on the stove as Jungkook helps himself to a second slice of toast. Namjoon explained earlier that he tends to skip breakfast, but he developed an affinity for toast during an exchange year in central Europe. He lived in one of those medieval towns that are straight out of a fairytale but filled with street litter, noisy motorbikes, tired dams, and disillusioned office workers like any other corner of the world.

Listening to Namjoon speak, Jungkook manages to spread butter and expensive-looking blueberry jam on a slice of toast. The alpha catches him and insists on feeding him by hand. It’s a silly proposition to Jungkook, who has fed and groomed himself for years, but his omega is delighted by the offer.

While there are alphas who’d try to restrict what their omega can eat or drink, Namjoon doesn’t seem to fall into toxic stereotypes. He keeps feeding Jungkook until he turns his head like a sullen child at a final piece of fruit and pours more coffee into Jungkook’s cup until it cools down too much to taste nice anymore.

“I’m rather useless in the kitchen,” Namjoon reveals after the meal, scrubbing the plates with a yellow dish sponge, “but I love watching you eat. I often find myself thinking of food as fuel, but something about watching you… I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words.”

Jungkook blushes bright red – he catches his reflection in the hallway mirror to verify that. It’s almost midday by then, but Namjoon doesn’t seem eager to let him leave. Similarly, Jungkook can’t come up with one good reason to go home where nothing or no one is waiting for him – besides a nosy neighbour who likes to smoke on their second-floor balcony and shoot judgemental stares at anyone who enters the building.

Concluding that Namjoon isn’t a neat freak, Jungkook sits up on the kitchen counter and swings his bare legs back and forth. He’s only wearing a large t-shirt from Namjoon’s closet, as well as a pair of plain panties he changed into in the bathroom. His hair is loose and a bit unruly, though in a cute, sex-tousled way.

The tap stops running, and Jungkook realises he’s been zoning out again.

“Hyung,” he says at the very same moment that Namjoon starts with, “Jungkook-ah.”

“You go first,” Namjoon says, wringing out the sponge and putting it on a rack to dry. His hair falls softly over his forehead, the specks of grey momentarily highlighted. He’s so attractive. Mature. An alpha who knows what he wants.

Jungkook swallows, but the lump is not in his throat. It’s his heart that feels tight.

“If it’s not too much trouble…” Jungkook crosses his ankles to stop his legs from moving. “If you’re not too busy, could you maybe try to put me properly in omegaspace? I was pretty far down yesterday, but… I was also tired from work and fell asleep before I felt truly ah – done.”

Namjoon draws a breath, and Jungkook prepares mentally for a list of excuses.

“I can, darling,” the alpha says instead, his expression neutral. “Would you prefer to begin now or later? I know that going down involves a bit of discomfort for you, so feel free to take some time to relax first if you need to.”

How observant, Jungkook thinks. Discomfort is one way to put it.

“It’s fine,” he says out loud. “I’ll be relaxed enough afterwards.”

Namjoon hums in acknowledgement. “Would you prefer sexual or non-sexual?”

Jungkook licks his lips, thinking about how Namjoon didn’t even knot him last night, even though Jungkook could smell that he wanted to, and Jungkook wouldn’t have minded. He’s an alpha with plenty of self-restraint.

“You decide,” Jungkook says, pushing his tongue against his cheek in a way that’s hopefully coy instead of obnoxious. “I’m good with either. Or both.”

Namjoon nods. Pensive, calculating. Giving up the right to choose is symbolic to Jungkook. He wants to make this work. He wants –

A sharp snap makes him jolt. Namjoon just snapped his fingers; he’s pointing at the kitchen floor in front of him.

For a tiny moment, Jungkook wrestles with his pride and his independent adult headspace pointing out how ridiculous it would be to kneel for Namjoon.

The moment passes. Jungkook gets on his knees on the hard floor tiles, looking up at the alpha who’s perfectly relaxed. Namjoon may have his hangups about many things, but he’s confident in his role as a dominant alpha, and that’s terribly attractive to both Jungkook and his inner wolf.

“Stay on your hands and knees until I tell you otherwise,” Namjoon says. “The floor is a good place for an omega like you.”

Jungkook nods, swallowing his humiliation as he follows Namjoon to the living room on all fours and curls up on the thick rug while Namjoon takes the couch. They watch some inconsequential reality show for a while, but Namjoon is in a talkative mood.

“You know, Jungkook-ah, I always thought that I’d have an omega of my own at this big age of mine.”

Deciding that he’s expected to reply, Jungkook says, “You’re not that old, hyung.”

“Maybe not, but it’s how people’s lives are supposed to go. Get mated, build a working dynamic and then a family. In any case, I started telling myself that I was some great rebellious mind against societal norms even though I’d sometimes fantasise about an omega and feel guilty about it because that wasn’t supposed to be for me.”

And how do you feel about it now? Jungkook wants to ask.

Namjoon leans over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “The moment Seokjin hyung told me he’d offered you the job, I knew I was in big trouble.”

“Why? We had never even met.”

“I was curious, so I coerced Seokjin hyung to show me pictures in advance. I had conjured up this whole personality for you: sweet yet willful, extremely aware of your beauty but hesitant to date around because of some bad experiences. Submissive, too. I was pretty fucking sure you’d be a submissive omega.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches. “Were you disappointed that I wasn’t quite like you pictured?”

“Hmm. I was annoyed at myself that so many of my predictions turned out to be true. You terrify me, Jungkook-ssi.”

“How so?” Jungkook manages to ask.

“I’m afraid you’d let me do the most depraved things to you, and we’d both enjoy ourselves.”

“I don’t see the problem, frankly,” Jungkook says. “You wouldn’t hurt me for real. Not in a way I hadn’t asked for.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Namjoon agrees.

They sink back into a comfortable silence. Namjoon’s hand is twisted tightly in Jungkook’s hair, tugging at random intervals, just to keep Jungkook anticipating for the next rush of tingly pain that comes with goosebumps on his arms and shivers running down his spine.

Throughout the day, Namjoon’s cock remains in his pants. The most Jungkook is allowed to do is to mouth at his half-hard length through the thick material of the alpha’s sweatpants. Jungkook also gets to ride Namjoon’s clothed thigh, but he’s not allowed to tip over the edge, no matter how wet and twitchy Jungkook gets. It’s such a dark contrast to the unrelenting barrage of orgasms from last night that Jungkook can only applaud the range of methods to get him fully down.

After easing Jungkook off his thigh, Namjoon makes him pull his stained panties down to his knees. He doesn’t touch Jungkook beyond lightly prodding at his slit and commenting that he still looks a bit red down there – as if it’s not solely Namjoon’s fault!

Jungkook whines and tries to offer the alpha his mouth or his other hole, but Alpha seems uninterested.

“It’s too much work, darling,” he says, tapping his fingers on the dry clench of Jungkook’s asshole. “And how can I be sure that you won’t gag on my cock the moment I put it in your pretty little mouth?”

Jungkook is forlorn because Alpha isn’t being fair. Lube exists, and Namjoon hasn’t even tried his mouth once. Jungkook could suck him off so well.

When Jungkook gets frustrated and tries to sneakily touch himself underneath the long hem of his t-shirt, Namjoon pins his hand against the floor and quickly slaps Jungkook’s cheek.

They negotiated different types of impact play beforehand, and there’s absolutely zero force behind Namjoon’s hit, but Jungkook’s head spins, and his cunt starts to leak at the instant feedback for being naughty. That’s how he understands that he’s quite far down already, and Namjoon has achieved it with very little contact.

God, he’s all the way down in omegaspace – in the home of an alpha he barely knows. A sudden wave of fear washes over Jungkook, quickly replaced with a fuzzy, happy feeling.

He needed to let go. He wanted this. Namjoon is helping him so that he can go back to work and not embarrass himself every single day.

“That’s quite a few emotions for one little omega,” Namjoon comments from above, sniffing at the air. “Do you want to come up, or should I push you deeper and let you switch your brain off for a while?”

It’s the last possible moment to backpedal, Jungkook realises it, too. His thoughts feel like chocolate pudding. He squirms and knocks his forehead against Namjoon’s thigh.

“Please,” he whispers. “Want it. Wanna – want more.”

“Okay. I trust you, sweetheart.”

With that, Namjoon scruffs him tightly. The rush of happy hormones is so intense that Jungkook blacks out for a few seconds.

He comes back to himself, though. He’s not one of those omegas who remember nothing about their deepest omegaspace. Jungkook is very much in his own body, able to move and even talk with some effort. He’s just… seeing things from a different perspective. His brain is calm, quiet. He craves pleasure and safety but also pain.

He’s a difficult omega.

The thought comes and pops like a soap bubble. Goodbye, mean thought!

Jungkook is taken to the bed, which Namjoon has filled with soft clothes from his own closet, as well as a few plushies. Jungkook hugs a koala plushie to his chest as Namjoon pushes his legs up and apart. He’s still wearing the oversized t-shirt and nothing else.

Namjoon pets the slick folds of Jungkook’s cunt in unhurried motions.

“You get so wet, baby,” he observes.

Jungkook chokes on his own breath. Sweetheart is one thing, or darling. His hips buck up as the touch becomes feather-light, barely there.

“Would you let me spank you here?”

A ragged moan comes out of Jungkook’s mouth, a terrible noise of want.

“Ask me to do it, then,” Namjoon croons, steadying a hand on Jungkook’s hipbone. “Tell me why you need it.”

Jungkook needs stimulation like he needs air. He tries again to push his hips up from the bed, and Namjoon restrains him.

“I – I just need it to hurt,” Jungkook mumbles, too much spit in his mouth, his nostrils itching at the intensity of Namjoon’s scent.

“Like this?” Namjoon croons, gently pinching his clit.

Jungkook shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes because he needs to explain and make the alpha understand. “Maybe I’m…  Maybe I’m fucked up, but it feels so good when it hurts. Like I uh – like I’m a naughty little omega who only gets fucked into the mattress after his punishments, always sore and aching, so I’ve had to learn to take my pleasure with a side of pain…”

Namjoon swears under his breath. The scene flickers around the edges, just for a moment. Jungkook spreads his legs wider without being prompted and pleads, for no good reason: “Please, please, please alpha.”

Right then, Namjoon brings his hand down on Jungkook’s cunt. And again before he’s even managed to take a breath.

The pain is bright and sweet, coming in waves that wash over Jungkook’s quickly reddening clit and swollen folds.

Namjoon says he can come whenever he’s able to, but he maintains a steady rhythm.

It lasts forever. Jungkook clutches the plushie more tightly, thinking about how he hasn’t come all day despite Namjoon’s big words about pleasuring his omegas. The next slap catches his clit particularly well, and Jungkook trembles through a warm, pulsating orgasm that’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. It feels good but leaves him craving for more.

“Knot,” Jungkook demands.

“Greedy baby,” Namjoon says. “I just let you come from your spanking, and you already want more?”

“Wasn’t a punishment,” Jungkook argues, which makes Namjoon laugh in a raspy voice that resonates somewhere below Jungkook’s breastbone.

“No, you don’t get punished, do you? You’re too well-behaved.”

Jungkook looks guiltily to the side. When he’s down like this, he has no filter. Everything becomes transparent glass, including him.

So of course he tells Namjoon about his earlier spanking fantasy. He’s not always good. He can be naughty.

Namjoon laughs again, more shakily, because he’s fitting his cock into Jungkook’s puffy cunt, fucking in. There’s more pain, and Jungkook floats happily for a while.

“Good to know that if you ever get loose, I can simply spank your cunt tight.”

Jungkook whines at the idea. Namjoon is playing with his clit, every touch an intricate blend of pain and pleasure.

Jungkook comes again, biting the plushie in his arms. Namjoon’s fingers never leave his sore clit. How many times? Jungkook thinks.

“One more,” says Namjoon, the mind reader, the alpha of Jungkook’s dreams.

One more, Jungkook will give him that.

///

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and Jungkook has his life together. His skin is moisturised and there are no runs in his stockings.

He packed and ate a healthy lunch today.

Thursday is a rainy, gloomy day. Jungkook remembers his umbrella but forgets his keys. Jimin and Yoongi have the spare one, so he takes the bus to their place after work.

Yoongi takes one look at him and declares, loudly, that Jungkook is in a relationship.

“It’s not true,” Jungkook hisses at him, smoothing the hem of his new skirt, knee-length and suitable for the office. He steps out of his shoes and notices a small run in his stockings, right over the ankle bone.

“What’s up with the skirt then? And the way you’re blushing?”

“You’re supposed to be the evasive, uptight hyung,” Jungkook says, though he can’t prevent a smile tugging at his lips. He forgot his keys and still has something to smile for.

Yoongi has been cooking, and they insist that Jungkook stays for dinner. It’s their ploy to get him to confess, but Jungkook is a walled garden. He sips on the grape juice Jimin poured him and thinks about how much he likes being a male omega, all the societal difficulties put aside.

He can choose to embrace his omegan features or disguise them in a way that female omegas can’t easily get away with. Most people think that a person’s primary sex is all but trivial, one’s sexual preferences shaped through subgender and subgender expression.

But Jungkook wants to be seen as a man, too. A man who wears a skirt, a man who gets down on his knees for his alpha. Isn’t there something particularly thrilling about that?

When Jungkook finally gets home and crashes into bed, he can’t fall asleep. He traces the edges of his pussy, thinking about how he’s used to self-soothing by touching himself, even if it doesn’t always lead to orgasm.

He calls Namjoon, fingers tucked in the crease between his thigh and crotch, and Namjoon makes him list three reasons why he should be allowed to touch himself. Then, he guides Jungkook through the most infuriating masturbation session, as if to show him how much better it would be with the alpha there.

Jungkook goes to sleep with his nipples pinched sore and pussy still pulsing pleasantly between his legs.

On Friday, Jungkook is back to wearing his usual pair of slacks. Namjoon pulls him into his office during lunch and asks about it, innocently enough.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” he guesses, and Jungkook shakes his head. It’s just hard to pick what to wear. He gets into his head, second-guessing everything.

“Would it help if I picked your outfits from now on?”

Jungkook’s stomach clenches wildly. Namjoon would do that?

“Yes, if it helps lighten your mental load,” Namjoon says warmly. “Not to mention that I would enjoy it, too.”

“You would?”

“Yes, Jungkook-ah. I would,” Namjoon says with a grimace. The exact meaning of that expression haunts Jungkook over the weekend because Namjoon is out of town.

///

“Please sign here,” says a bored-looking delivery boy, tapping at the screen of his device.

It’s Sunday evening, an insane time for home deliveries, but Jungkook is still left with four sealed bags featuring the logos of various luxury and high-end brands.

In one of the bags, he finds a hand-written note.

I’m sorry for having to leave so abruptly. My dam was in poor health, so I had to go take care of her and make arrangements for a carer.

On Monday, please wear the outfit in the pink bag. Leave your hair down and put on the bracelet in the small, white bag.

Jungkook clutches the note to his chest, willing his heart to stop racing. Not only is Namjoon a caring, responsible son, he went to great lengths to arrange all this for Jungkook. Spending all this money on him.

With trembling hands, Jungkook opens the two bags Namjoon mentioned and finds a pale pink blouse, a cream-coloured skirt and brown Mary Janes. It’s the most overtly omegan outfit he would’ve ever worn to the office, but because it’s Namjoon who made the call – telling Jungkook that it’s okay – he barely hesitates before trying it on.

The bracelet he digs out of the other bag is simple but ridiculously expensive, no doubt. Jungkook is too scared to search for it online, so he just clasps it onto his wrist and takes a few photos of himself in front of the mirror.

Everything about the outfit is tasteful and innocent enough, but Jungkook sends Namjoon a mirror selca with the daring caption: Thank you for the gifts, Alpha. Do I look pretty?

Namjoon texts him back right away, as though he’s been constantly looking at his phone.

The prettiest omega I’ve seen. I hope you like wearing them, baby.

Jungkook’s fingers hover over the keyboard before he adds, I’m sorry about your dam. I hope she gets better soon.

Thank you, sweetheart. I hope so, too.

Despite the sombre end to their conversation, Jungkook goes to bed so giddy that he can barely fall asleep.

///

Jungkook arrives at work earlier than Namjoon – earlier than almost everyone. He goes to the break room and makes instant coffee for himself, fiddling with the tastefully ruffled sleeve of his blouse while waiting for the coffee granules to dissolve fully.

He can feel the ankle straps of his new shoes. The leather hasn’t softened yet, conformed to the shape of his feet.

“Excuse me, who… Jungkook-ah?” comes a disbelieving voice from the door. Jungkook spins around so fast that he almost trips over his feet.

Seokjin appears large and imposing in the doorframe.

“What are you wearing?” the beta asks.

Unprepared for his cousin’s sharp tone, Jungkook can’t come up with an answer in time. A deer in the headlights. Seokjin storms into the space and grabs Jungkook’s wrist.

“This Van Cleef bracelet,” he says. “Who bought it for you?”

Jungkook pulls his hand out of Seokjin’s grip. “Maybe I got it for myself. Since you got me this job.”

“No, you didn’t,” Seokjin says coolly. “And that outfit is not your style.”

Before Jungkook can react, the beta hooks his fingers under the collar of Jungkook’s blouse to take a look at the label.

“You bought this with your own money, too? If so, I’ll have to check your payroll details a bit more closely.”

Humiliation makes Jungkook see red. He pokes his cousin in the chest, forcing the beta to take a few steps toward the exit. Jungkook isn’t that much shorter than him, and he’s wearing shoes with a bit of heel.

“You’re being such an asshole, hyung. Who are you to tell me what my style is? I can wear any type of clothes I want.”

Seokjin spreads his arms in mock surrender. “Not if some sleazy alpha with a bit of money is forcing you to wear something you wouldn’t be comfortable with in the first place!”

The thing about Seokjin is that he never raises his voice at Jungkook. Maybe in a joking manner, to scold him over something silly. But never like this, face red and eyes dark.

Jungkook bursts into tears.

It’s awful to cry in front of Seokjin whose anger dissipates just like that, his protective beta instincts kicking into high gear. He tries to pull Jungkook into his embrace, but Jungkook shoves past him, covering his face with his hand as he runs to his desk.

It takes minutes for his heart to stop racing. Jungkook blows his nose and wipes his face, relieved that Namjoon hadn’t instructed him to put on any makeup – because he would’ve done so if asked.

Seokjin has always tried to control Jungkook’s dating life to some extent, but he’s never been like this. Angry, hostile, like it’s all Jungkook’s fault what kind of alphas he attracts. Foolish little Jungkook, always eager to please.

Fuck him. Fuck Kim Seokjin and his close-minded expectations.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Jungkook lets out a small yip. He drags his palms down his face again, hoping that his eyes aren’t too red as he looks up at Hoseok.

“I uh… I’m…” Jungkook’s throat burns and he can’t think of one single white lie.

“You were in the break room with Kim Hwejang-nim, correct? Do you want to talk about what happened? He has no right to make you cry just because he’s the owner of the company.”

Jungkook bites his lip. How much did Hoseok see? The door of the break room is transparent glass.

“We were discussing a private matter,” he reveals quietly. “The chairman is… he’s actually my cousin.”

If Hoseok is surprised, he masks his reaction well. He gently pats Jungkook’s shoulder. “Whatever the topic was, I’m sure he feels horrible about upsetting you.”

Because I’m an omega and should be treated delicately? Jungkook nearly asks but bites his tongue.

“We usually get along well,” he says out loud, shaking his head. He can’t help but notice how Hoseok’s eyes linger on him.

“I think Namjoon just arrived. If you need to talk to him.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“You…”

“I figured he’s courting you. Is that why Seokjin hyung is so mad? Defending his dongsaeng’s honour?”

Frantically, Jungkook looks around. They’re still alone. Hoseok is smiling a bit, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m not…” Jungkook swallows thickly. Namjoon isn’t courting him, is he? They have an agreement. Is that worse than being courted by him?

“Hyung doesn’t know,” he whispers, leaning closer to Hoseok. “Please don’t tell him, boojang-nim. My cousin is already angry, and I don’t want to come between their business partnership. This is such a mess…”

Hoseok squeezes Jungkook’s shoulder gently. “Namjoon and Seokjin have always butted heads over various things. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about them. Just take care of yourself.”

A million different questions burn on Jungkook’s tongue, but he thanks Hoseok for the advice and remains at his desk, trying to work. At lunch, Namjoon texts him to say that Jungkook looks even better in person, and he clings to that thought for the rest of the day.

///

Over the week, Jungkook becomes a frequent guest at Namjoon’s house. They’re making up for the lost weekend, for all the missed opportunities to make each other come.

Namjoon praises Jungkook for wearing the outfits he’s picked out, sometimes frilly and pastel-toned, other times in darker colours and simpler cuts. The common theme is that every outfit still has at least one piece that’s unquestionably omegan.

Jungkook loves it.

Loves feeling pretty in his clothes, posting cute selcas on his social media and getting complimented by old acquaintances and friends alike.

Pretty, handsome, “Are you single, perhaps?”

Seokjin leaves a like under every picture, but he hasn’t addressed their fight in person or tried to apologise to Jungkook.

Noticing that he’s spending more and more time thinking about it, Jungkook finally brings the topic up with Namjoon – while he’s warming his knot.

“Seokjin hyung thinks I’m being courted by some rich alpha with bad intentions.”

For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t say anything. He’s slow to speak after popping a knot, and to be fair, Jungkook just pulled the figurative rug from under his feet.

“Do you think he’s right about that?”

“About you courting me, or you having bad intentions?”

Namjoon grunts as if to say “Both.”

With a wince, Jungkook tests if Namjoon’s knot has gone down enough for him to turn around in his lap. Not yet.

“I don’t think you have bad intentions,” he says, staring at the wall in front of him. He doesn’t say anything about courting. Wants Namjoon to take initiative.

“It’s weird,” he continues, “how Seokjin hyung thinks that I need an alpha, but he won’t approve of anyone who tries to approach me. As if I have terrible judgement and will only get myself into trouble if I’m left to make decisions for myself..”

Namjoon sighs, burying his face in Jungkook’s nape, his canines just barely scraping the sensitive skin.

“Jungkook-ah…”

Finally, Namjoon’s knot deflates enough for Jungkook to pull himself off. He cups his pussy before Namjoon’s seed starts to leak out, wondering what Seokjin would think if he saw him like this.

“I hate disappointing him,” Jungkook says, his heart simultaneously in his throat and in the pit of his belly. “Even though he’s a pretentious fucker who thinks he knows everything about me.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says again, pushing a towel between Jungkook’s legs.

“Yeah. You don’t like when I talk about Seokjin hyung.”

Namjoon frowns, like he’s looking for the magic words that could stop Jungkook from spiralling further. Would he need to push or pull?

Jungkook doesn’t know the answer. His chest aches as he thinks about all the pretty clothes and jewellery Namjoon has bought for him, how much the alpha pays attention to his needs, both irrational and sensible.

“If I asked, would you spank me for saying mean things about my cousin?”

Namjoon is still frowning. “Do you feel like you deserve to be spanked for that?”

“No, because he was mean first.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

Jungkook touches the necklace he’s wearing. Another gift from Namjoon. Gold for the Golden boy.

“Would you spank me for no reason? As maintenance?”

“Not right now,” Namjoon says softly. “You wouldn’t be able to differentiate things.”

Jungkook pouts even though Namjoon is right. He’s right about most things.

///

Jungkook racks up mild infractions that eventually earn him the spanking he was after. He zones out during an important meeting about the conference they’re headed to next week. He accidentally dresses himself in a black shirt even though Namjoon told him to wear white. He doesn’t pay enough attention to traffic and almost walks under a bus near the office.

Namjoon sends him a formal invite to his office, and Jungkook’s hands shake from anticipation as he clicks to accept. The alpha hasn’t engaged in almost any play inside the office – after that one time he fingered Jungkook in the meeting room – so this feels like a rare treat to Jungkook.

He waits outside Namjoon’s office so that he can be perfectly punctual and knock on the door when his watch says 3:15. Namjoon invites him in, clearly amused by Jungkook’s appearance.

“Sit down, Assistant Jeon.”

Desire winds and coils in Jungkook’s belly. He takes a seat, thinking back to his first meeting with Namjoon. And the second one. All the meetings that eventually led up to this.

“I’ve been getting reports of your lacklustre performance, Assistant Jeon. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Jungkook presses his knees together. He’s wearing cute, knee-high socks underneath his slacks. He doesn’t care whether or not Namjoon finds out, they’re for him, mostly.

“Hmm?”

“I wore the wrong shirt because I overslept and got out of the house in a rush, daepyo-nim.”

Namjoon pushes his glasses up on his nose. “And after that?”

“I was still tired, so I couldn’t pay attention to the meeting. I thought I would go to the café across the street for a coffee, but I was thinking about something, so I didn’t see the bus coming, and the driver had to slam on the brakes.”

“That was very silly of you,” Namjoon says.

“I was very apologetic, of course,” Jungkook continues, stumbling over his words. “I bowed to the driver and then apologised to Hoseok hyung – I mean Manager Jung. He gave me the meeting materials to study at home tonight.”

“How very generous of him.”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat up.

“Seeing that you’re little more than an inattentive brat.”

“Sir, I’m…”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, playing the part to absolute perfection.

“You represent this business with your actions. I already take care of your appearance, but do I need to start micromanaging you further? Is that it?”

“No, sir. I’ll be better, I promise…”

“Stop tapping your foot against the floor.”

Jungkook grabs his own knee, swallowing down the need to apologise because he knows that would only anger Namjoon more.

“What should I do with you, Assistant Jeon?”

“I’m not sure, daepyo-nim.” Jungkook looks down into his lap. Namjoon’s chair creaks, he’s probably standing up.

“Bend over the desk.”

Jungkook looks up, inhaling. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing for you to understand. Elbows on the desk, please.”

When Jungkook doesn’t move, Namjoon slams a hand on the desk. “Right here, Assistant Jeon.”

Jungkook stumbles off the couch. Namjoon doesn’t smell angry; he smells like Namjoon, like sloppily applied scent blockers, and his necktie is just a little crooked.

But his eyes.

Blood rushes into Jungkook’s head as he bends over the desk, his back slightly arched and feet hip-width apart.

Namjoon’s hand comes down on the back of his neck. The grip isn’t tight, as if he trusts that Jungkook won’t try to squirm away.

Then, he brings his hand down.

Over the clothes, the hits are hard and precise. Jungkook focuses on breathing through his nose and unclenching his jaw.

There is no pattern, no count, just a blooming, blossoming hurt. Namjoon spanks him for a long time. Jungkook keeps his hands glued to the table. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It stops.

“Stand up, Assistant Jeon.”

Jungkook obeys.

“I have work to do. Go be a good boy for Manager Jung.”

Nodding, Jungkook moves to the door. His fingers are about to touch the door handle when he feels Namjoon’s hot breath at his ear, the alpha’s arm around his shoulder.

“That wasn’t too intense?” he whispers.

Jungkook shakes his head.

“You sure, baby?”

He nods, and Namjoon’s lips brush against the shell of his ear in a barely-there kiss.

Back at his desk, Jungkook sits down with a wince, wondering if he could sneak off into the bathroom to check himself for bruises.

That’s when he realises that he’s in love with Kim Namjoon.

///

One day before the conference, Seokjin invites Jungkook out for lunch. An obvious olive branch, which Jungkook grasps onto because he’s tired of Seokjin skirting around the part of the office where he works. Jungkook texts Namjoon the details as he’s supposed to; the alpha immediately reads the message but doesn’t answer.

“Are you coming?” Seokjin asks over his shoulder in his usual, flippant style. Jungkook pockets his phone and scurries after him.

At the restaurant, Jungkook orders something cheap off the menu because he’s too nervous to eat, but he keeps sipping on his large soda while Seokjin replies to an urgent work message.

“I seem to have been too harsh with you,” the beta says all of a sudden, placing his phone on the table with the screen down.

“What do you mean, hyung?” Jungkook asks. The bracelet Namjoon got him is on his wrist like a terrible conversation starter. It’s a coincidence that the alpha told him to wear it today.

“I was quick to dismiss anyone trying to court you, as well as your autonomy on the matter.”

Straight to the point, Jungkook notes.

“You haven’t needed any guidance from me lately, so I assume your relationship is sexual in nature, or at the very least, there’s some level of dynamic involved.”

Jungkook nearly inhales a mouthful of soda and presses a paper napkin to his mouth.

“I’m not asking for any details, but I would be grateful if you confirmed this to be the case.”

“Hyung… I…” Jungkook coughs, and Seokjin quickly pours him a cup of water.

“Yes,” he says, disarmed by Seokjin’s genuine expression. “I’m in… that kind of relationship with someone.”

“Is it going well?”

Seeing that it’s not an actual courtship, yes.

Is Namjoon his boyfriend? Situationship?

Jungkook coughs again, turning a few heads from the nearby table because the lunch restaurant is so small and cramped.

“I’m getting what I need, as an omega.”

No matter how badly Seokjin may want to know who Jungkook is with, he seems satisfied with his answer. The beta digs into his meal as soon as it arrives and encourages Jungkook to eat, too. When Jungkook runs out of food, Seokjin swaps their plates and claims that he’s no longer hungry.

He apologises to Jungkook on the way back to the office.

“Hyung is sorry,” the beta says, hands in his pockets because it’s cold. It may snow later in the week.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says. “I called you a pretentious fucker behind your back.”

“Aish, you brat.”

Jungkook chuckles. “What did Taehyung think of us fighting?”

“He was furious with me. He said it’s my fault you don’t want to introduce me to the people you date.”

It’s hard to imagine Taehyung angry, especially on someone else’s behalf. 

Jungkook holds the door open for Seokjin as they get in, and Seokjin says, “Thank you, pup.”

///

Jimin is clearly over the moon.

“We matched with a really cool alpha on Scenter!”

Jungkook turns around, even though they’re second in the queue and he hasn’t decided what to order yet. “You’re looking for an alpha dom on a dating app?”

“And we found one, I think,” Jimin says, beaming. “We invited him for a threesome at our place this weekend.”

“How long have you even known him?” Jungkook asks, mildly scandalised. “He could be dangerous!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and explains that they’ve already met in a public place – twice. He’s charming and handsome and has a well-paying job, but he also has a bit of a mean streak.

“He’d be perfect for us, I swear. He seems like the type of person who can deal with my bullshit, and he can also fuck Yoongi hyung when he’s in one of those whiny moods…”

“Ew, I don’t want to hear about it.”

A group of teenagers moves out of the way, and Jungkook goes back to looking at the menu. He orders a large boba tea even though he has to wake up early and catch a ride to the conference in Hoseok’s car.

“How’s your love life, puppy?” Jimin asks as soon as they’re back outside.

Jungkook shrugs. Cold air makes his nose sting, and he momentarily regrets getting a large cold drink. Omegas and their temperature regulation issues.

“You can’t just shrug like that. You keep smiling like an idiot, did you know?”

Jungkook nearly drops the takeaway cup. “I don’t?”

“You do. I think you’re in love.”

 “It’s complicated,” Jungkook huffs, about to continue when Jimin leans over to take a long whiff.

“You smell different. It’s not just the scent blockers.” The beta steps back. He can’t see Jungkook’s outfit, his cute sweater vest and the clips in his hair because he’s wearing a jacket and a beanie. “I can’t put my finger on it. Yoongi hyung is just as puzzled.”

“Isn’t it enough for you to know that I’m happy and well?”

Jimin frowns. “I’m just worried that you’re ashamed of something. Or that you have stopped trusting us.”

That stings. Jungkook opens his mouth and closes it. He doesn’t want to start another fight with a person he loves, but anything he says will sound like a stupid excuse to Jimin.

“It’s just… I feel like I’m finally discovering what I want out of a relationship, and it’s messy in some ways.”

“In what ways?”

Again, Jungkook can only hurt Jimin’s feelings, no matter how he replies.

“It’s hard to explain that to a beta. I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Please try at least.” Jimin elbows Jungkook in the side, pleading instead of playful.

They’ve reached an indoor mall; Jimin was supposed to restock on skincare and Jungkook was supposed to buy a new pair of shoes to wear at the conference. Now, Jungkook just wants to go home and hide in his nest until it’s time to leave.

But Jimin is holding onto Jungkook’s arm, concerned for all the wrong reasons.

“It’s hard, coming to terms with your own limitations,” he says at last. Jimin tilts his head in confusion, so he musters the courage to continue. “I thrive when he restricts me, and that’s the wrong thing to say as a modern omega.”

Tears threaten to well in Jungkook’s eyes, but he refuses to cry in the brightly lit central plaza of a mall, sweating because he hasn’t even pulled the zipper of his jacket open.

“I ah… I enjoy being his bitch. Did you flinch at that word, hyung? Did you think that poor little Jungkook has lost his mind, demeaning himself openly?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Does he call you that?”

“And that is precisely my point.” Jungkook turns around, crying now, swallowing down the taste of salt in the back of his mouth. “I should get home, it’s late. I need to message my alpha about who I’ve been with, and which route I’ll take home – even though I’m already sharing my location with him in real time.”

He pulls his phone out for dramatic flair, waving it around.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin says, trying to touch Jungkook’s shoulder, but Jungkook simply steps out of reach. He’s bigger and stronger and faster than Jimin.

“I’ll call you later, hyung. Don’t worry about me.”

Jungkook rushes out of the mall and to the metro station. Namjoon picks up his call on the second ring, and by that time, Jungkook has managed to stop crying. He says he couldn’t find any shoes he liked, and Namjoon says they can look through his closet in the evening to finalise his outfits for the conference.

“I want to feel pretty and professional, hyung. What if I make a fool out of myself?”

“Darling, you could never look foolish,” Namjoon croons. “Has something upsetting happened? I thought the conversation with your cousin went well.”

The train car jostles, and an elderly man nearly falls over. Jungkook was picking his cuticles, so he didn’t notice that the poor man was standing right in front of him.

“Eoreusin, please take my seat,” he says, the mortification eating him alive as he slips out of the way. The people next to him remain on their phones, indifferent, while Jungkook feels bad for doing the right thing a little too late.

“Are you still there, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Jungkook says right away. He catches his reflection in the window as the train enters a bridge, the black vastness of the Han River and the starless sky making it seem like they’re floating in space. Him, the elderly man, and the strangers on their phones.

///

Jungkook is slightly embarrassed when Hoseok’s car pulls up in front of his run-down building complex, but things only get more awkward when he finds Namjoon sitting in the passenger seat.

Right, he doesn’t have a licence. Jungkook gets in the backseat and throws his backpack on the empty seat next to him.

“Thank you for driving all the way here to pick me up,” Jungkook says guiltily, and Hoseok reassures him with a smile.

Another thing he notices right away is that he can smell both of them. Two alphas, Namjoon’s smoky scent and Hoseok’s soft spiciness, cinnamon and nutmeg.

Yes, undoubtedly an alpha’s scent.

They’re smiling and cracking jokes. Hoseok asks if Jungkook is cold or warm, fiddling with the air conditioning. Namjoon offers them both a piece of gum. Hoseok refuses. Jungkook accepts.

The drive will be two and a half hours, and the rest of the team will be arriving in two other cars. It’s easy to forget about the others. This hardly feels like a work trip, passing through the hills and valleys, idly listening to the two alphas – and clearly close friends – banter about various topics.

“Namjoon-ah, have you told Jungkook about that time in university when you swore to get a PhD in environmental philosophy?”

Jungkook perks up at the mention of his name, looking around and realising that he has no clue how far from Seoul they’ve gotten. It’s still early, and the clouds look like they’re touching the sky.

“I didn’t know that,” Jungkook says, oddly ashamed. He knows that Namjoon went to Seoul National University, and that he has one sister. He knows that Namjoon doesn’t like eating seafood but enjoys all things sweet.

And yet, he thinks he’s in love with the alpha, based on just that.

“What changed your mind?” he asks lightly.

“I thought that an alpha’s job was to make money,” Namjoon replies, honestly, without smiling or joking around. “I guess it’s everyone’s job in today’s society, but I wanted to be able to provide for my future mate. I think that’s equal parts noble and toxic.”

Hoseok glances at Jungkook over his shoulder, and he’s suddenly reminded that Namjoon isn’t aware that he knows.

“You’ve told me before that you gave up on finding a mate,” Hoseok says. He’s egging him on, and there’s nothing Jungkook can do.

“Well, I –” Namjoon clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road. “I said I wasn’t actively looking for one, not that I had closed the door permanently.”

“So, you can see yourself being mated within, let’s say, two years?”

Namjoon is quiet for a long time. Jungkook’s heart aches; he knows what will happen if the alpha says no, oh he’s going to say no, he’s…

“Yes,” Namjoon says. “I can see myself happily mated in that time.”

“That’s nice, chingu-yah. You deserve happiness.”

Namjoon hums, and the sound pierces through Jungkook’s already tender heart. He leans back into the seat, tugging on the seatbelt so that it doesn’t touch the side of his neck.

“You’ve been single for a while, too,” Namjoon comments next.

“I actually met someone. Two people, in fact. A beta and an omega.”

Jungkook thinks about his fight with Jimin and curls into himself.

Namjoon makes a joke about Hoseok having his hands full or something, Jungkook is biting his lip.

Over the journey, Namjoon’s scent has been growing a bit thicker, stronger. He wants to ask if the alpha has blockers in his bag, but that would seem rude.

“Jungkook-ah.”

“What?” Jungkook mutters, blunter than he would’ve liked.

“I made sure to book all of us rooms in the same wing of the hotel,” Hoseok says. “Do you need hyung to pick you up from your room when it’s time to go?”

“I’m not a child,” Jungkook cries out, not understanding what Hoseok is after. Namjoon’s scent has deepened even more, and he’s not saying anything.

“Just making sure,” Hoseok mutters. “We had an early start to the day, and you’re unfamiliar with conferences like these.”

“I can handle myself but thank you.”

Hoseok doesn’t push it. Instead, he takes the exit lane to a large service station with shops and fast-food kiosks. He pulls Namjoon out of the car without asking Jungkook anything. From inside the car, it looks as though the two of them are having an argument near the petrol pumps. Hoseok is gesturing wildly while Namjoon tries to push a credit card into the machine.

Jungkook is perplexed.

Eventually, Namjoon leaves Hoseok to refuel the car and rushes inside the building. He comes back with three corndogs and a skewered potato snack. Somehow, the alpha’s scent has completely disappeared as he pushes food into Jungkook’s hands.

“Eat,” he tells Jungkook, not moving an inch before Jungkook has taken a large bite. With a nod, he closes the car door again and leans against it like an idol bodyguard while Jungkook eats.

Only when Namjoon goes back to his seat in the front does Jungkook catch a glimpse of the heavy-duty scent suppression patch on his neck, just visible above the collar of his shirt.

Hoseok is still outside somewhere. He probably needed to use the toilet.

“Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook says quietly. “I got into a fight with my friend last night. I seem to mess up all of my relationships.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Kook-ah.” Namjoon glances at the half-eaten corndog in Jungkook’s hand. Alpha disapproves.

Jungkook takes another bite, frowning because the food is delicious.

“Were you fighting with Hoseok hyung out there?” he asks once his mouth is empty.

Was it about me? Jungkook adds silently.

Namjoon sighs. “It wasn’t an argument. Since when have you called him ‘Hoseok hyung’ anyway?”

It’s almost like Namjoon is acting jealous, crossing his arms and taking a bite of his own corndog. They’re parked next to the recycling bins, and a few birds are aggressively fighting for a paper bag with some fast-food scraps in it.

The sound of Hoseok opening the car door is louder than an explosion. Hoseok snatches the third corndog out of Namjoon’s hand and exclaims, “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!”

///

When they reach the convention centre on the outskirts of a mid-sized city, the sky has cleared up, and Hoseok and Namjoon are back to joking around like nothing happened.

Hoseok hands everyone their keycards, and Namjoon welcomes the team, explaining that Seokjin will join them on the second day. It soon turns out that Hoseok has placed Jungkook in the single room that’s the farthest from Namjoon’s suite, the rest of the team members paired up into the rooms in the middle based on subgender and preference.

Jungkook is lost.

First, Hoseok seemed to be on board with his and Namjoon’s relationship, but suddenly the alpha is doing everything in his power to separate them. In his room, Jungkook quickly changes into the outfit Namjoon instructed him to wear for the first business lunch where they’re supposed to rub elbows with some executives who have shown interest in their services before.

The black, cropped blazer looks great with a pair of loose-fitting slacks. Jungkook combs his hair neatly and adds a pair of hoop earrings. Nothing too flashy, given his position.

For a moment, Jungkook allows himself to imagine what it would be like to accompany Namjoon to his business meetings as his mate instead. Laughing at the misomegynistic jokes of the executives and helping his alpha make more money.

Jungkook grimaces at the mirror. The thought makes him sick – other people, other alphas regarding him that way. The CEO’s little wife… I wonder if he’s a strait-laced prude or just another expensively dressed whore?

Jungkook rushes out of his impersonally furnished room, walking determinedly down the first stairs he finds, even though he has no idea where the lunch is being served. He’s about to text Namjoon when Hoseok ambushes him sitting on the stairs which are covered in blue and purple carpet with abstract squiggles on them. The same outdated pattern repeats in the lobby and in the hallways.

“Jungkook-ah, this way.”

“Ah… thank you, hyung,” Jungkook mutters, scurrying after the alpha who walks briskly with his hands in his pockets.

At lunch, Namjoon is seated at the end of the table, answering an endless stream of questions. Jungkook ends up sitting next to Hoseok, keeping his head bowed as he takes small bites out of his chicken.

Namjoon, too, is barely eating, but it’s likely because he’s so invested in the conversations around him.

“Eat more,” Hoseok tells Jungkook, who clenches his fists under the table. He wants to tell Hoseok that he’s not his alpha, that he doesn’t have to take instructions from him.

The lunch ends just as abruptly as it began. Jungkook tries to leave on his own, but Hoseok tags along, giving him an unsolicited tour of the convention centre gardens, which consist of a small pond and a few dead bushes.

Jungkook thanks Hoseok for showing him around, trying to excuse himself with a polite bow, when the alpha grabs his wrist. A shiver of uncertainty runs through Jungkook. They’re alone in the garden; it’s cold outside and business deals are being made while Hoseok is playing chaperone.

But Hoseok releases Jungkook immediately, muttering an apology for touching him without asking first. “It’s just…” the alpha tries to continue. “Be careful, Jungkook-ssi. Can you promise me that?”

“I promise,” Jungkook says.

///

In the evening, when Jungkook goes back to his room, he sees that Jimin has tried to call him three times, and Yoongi two. He calls both of their numbers but gets directed to voicemail.

Jungkook gives up, leaving his phone to charge while he takes a long shower, scrubbing his body with the complimentary shower gel, which smells like watered-down hand soap. He turns the water warmer and warmer until it is scalding his skin, turning him pink all over, but even then, the amount of sensation doesn’t feel enough.

Someone knocks on his door, and Jungkook stops with his hand on the temperature knob.

The sound is unmistakable even over the water. Jungkook reaches for the fluffy hotel robe hanging right outside the shower cubicle and tiptoes to the door, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

The knocking has stopped. The security chain is in place.

Jungkook cracks the door open, as much as the chain allows. No one is in the hallway, but one of the doors farther down the corridor slams shut at the exact moment when Jungkook manages to peek his head through.

///

Jungkook’s hair has grown enough to put it up in a small bun. He walks down to the convention hall feeling confident and professional in his silk blouse and form-fitting trousers, even though his shoes are old and his watch ran out of batteries yesterday.

On any normal day at the office, Namjoon would’ve noticed. He would’ve scolded him or administered some kind of sexy punishment for being forgetful.

In the lobby, Jungkook finds cardboard signs pointing to the Renewables Energy Conference 2025. The slight spelling error grinds Jungkook’s gears. His English skills leave a lot to be desired, unlike Namjoon’s, but even he would’ve been able to spell the name of the field they’re all working in.

“Jungkook-ah,” a familiar voice calls out to him. Seokjin is waving at him from the double doors at the end of the hall. “Hoseok suggested that you could take some notes for me today.”

Jungkook walks up to him.

“Am I your assistant now, hwejang-nim?” His tone is joking, but his frustration must be evident on his face because Seokjin frowns.

“When I’m not busy, you could hang out with Taehyung. I thought you’d prefer that to tailing Namjoon who looks like he swallowed a bee for breakfast.”

Jungkook agrees, mostly because he doesn’t understand what’s going on. He follows Seokjin and tries to make himself helpful. Taehyung, whom Jungkook wasn’t even expecting to see here, sips on an iced coffee to the side somewhere, not even trying to weaponise his good looks in Seokjin’s favour.

Not that Jungkook’s cousin needs a pretty omega on his arm to do business.

The morning hours drag by, and Jungkook ends up chatting with Taehyung more than he expected. He barely sees Namjoon, though Hoseok comes to check up on him twice. The alpha has a slight limp which wasn’t there yesterday, but he smiles and reassures Jungkook that it’s nothing serious.

“I’m not sure why Seokjin hyung brought me here,” Taehyung reveals eventually. He’s wearing jeans and a casual button-up shirt, and it turns out he didn’t even have time to pack properly.

“I think he got a call from Hoseok hyung and changed his mind,” the omega continues. “It was a little strange, I’m not going to lie.”

A sense of foreboding grows in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach over the lunch break. Taehyung leaves him to go to the bathroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure if he should wait or head over to the auditorium where a few industry experts will be giving a lecture and hosting a panel discussion. Jungkook shouldn’t hang out with Taehyung just because he’s a fellow omega. He’s here to work, Taehyung isn’t.

Before Jungkook can make up his mind, a hand wraps around his bicep. Tightly.

“Found you, omega.”

Namjoon is whispering, but he might as well be yelling right into Jungkook’s ear. His inner omega keels over and submits, his lashes flutter and nostrils flare –

“Alpha, you’re in…” Jungkook swallows thickly. Everything makes sense, just like that. Instincts override his lingering confusion. Jungkook springs to his feet and starts leading Namjoon in the opposite direction from where the crowd is moving. They can miss the lecture.

“Omega,” Namjoon repeats, sounding helpless.

“You’re in prerut,” Jungkook says, pulling the alpha into a dimly lit corridor which seems to have missed whatever round of renovations that was responsible for the blue and purple carpets. He’s not sure if they’re even supposed to be in this part of the building or if someone left the door unlocked by accident.

“Hoseok found out first,” Namjoon says. He’s breathing heavily and crowding Jungkook against the wall but keeping his hands obediently to himself. Jungkook examines his face and spots a faint bruise on his jaw, almost perfectly covered with concealer.

“Did you… last night, in the hallway?” Jungkook asks, voice trembling slightly.

“We didn’t mean to hurt each other,” Namjoon says. “He tried to pull me back into my room and twisted an ankle in the process.”

“Why?” Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment, fighting all the omegan responses his body is trying to produce in reaction to Namjoon’s scent. “I don’t understand anything. He knows about us, hyung.”

Namjoon’s scent spikes. “Hoseok doesn’t think I deserve you for my rut because I’ve been such a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Jungkook argues, but he’s already glancing left and right, weighing his options.

“Jungkook-ah, you don’t even know that…”

“Later, hyung,” Jungkook hisses and gets down on his knees. The carpet – a hideous orange this time – looks filthy, but there’s no time to waste. He starts undoing Namjoon’s belt with nimble fingers.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Helping,” Jungkook says bluntly. He already has Namjoon’s half-hard cocking in his hand and he’s coaxing it to full hardness. “We need to get your scent settled. All of the important stuff happens today, so you just have to last until the evening. Seokjin hyung can take care of the rest.”

Namjoon lets out a pitiful noise, almost grabbing Jungkook’s hair but going for his shoulder instead, as if he’s scared of tousling Jungkook’s hair.

“You should use me, Alpha,” Jungkook says. He lets his mouth open, pushing his tongue out: look how pink and wet.

Naturally, Namjoon can’t resist for long. He takes his cock in hand and slides it all the way to Jungkook’s throat. He’s not unkind about it, doesn’t smash his pelvis into Jungkook’s nose, but he also doesn’t care when Jungkook gags loudly.

Use me, that’s what he asked for.

Namjoon starts fucking his face in shallow jabs. Jungkook clings onto the alpha’s thick thighs, focusing on relaxing his throat, trying to make it easy and simple for Namjoon so that he doesn’t even have to think about anything. He’s just a slick, warm channel for his alpha, probably leaking onto the stained carpet.

It’s eerily quiet besides the sounds of Namjoon’s cock shoving past his gag reflex and pulling back, covered in drool. Prerut Namjoon isn’t one to shower Jungkook with praise and words of endearment, but Jungkook can still feel the way the alpha squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

When his knot starts to swell, Jungkook tries his best to tend to it with his tongue while letting Namjoon wrap his fingers around the base. Most of his bitter-hot cum goes down Jungkook’s throat, but a few streaks of it end up on the carpet behind them, at Jungkook’s hairline and on the front of his blouse. Rutting alphas come so fucking much.

Jungkook remains kneeling on the floor as Namjoon tries to wipe his mouth with a paper napkin he had in his pocket. It’s so gentle, after something so rough.

“Jungkook-ah, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like this is okay, like I’m… not way out of line.”

“I asked for it, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but you don’t know what horrible things I want to do to you. I’m such an asshole in rut, Hoseok had every right to keep me away from you.”

Jungkook hums, lowering his eyes. He has to go to his room and take a shower, preferably an ice-cold one. He’ll miss at least half an hour of the conference, probably more.

“Jeon Jungkook. Look at me.”

Jungkook looks.

“I love you,” Namjoon says. Dick hanging out of his pants. Air that smells like cum and mildew.

“Say it again,” Jungkook says and staggers to his feet without Namjoon’s help.

“I love you, Jungkook-ah. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

Jungkook’s head swims. Namjoon is tucking himself away.

“I’ll go first,” he blurts out. “Wait a few minutes and go make yourself presentable. I’ll join everyone after the presentation and panel discussion are over.”

At the door, Jungkook turns to say:

“I love you too, Alpha.”

Then, he slips into the hallway and runs directly into Kim Seokjin who couldn’t find his business partner anywhere and thought he’d gotten lost on his way to the auditorium.

///

On the list of top ten weirdest things that have happened to Jungkook: Helping an alpha through a surprise rut cycle in a poorly equipped business hotel suite.

His memories of the rut are a little hazy, but he knows that Taehyung stayed in the room next to them for the entire duration of Namjoon’s rut, supplying them with water bottles and hotel food and clean sheets and towels – and even checking in on Jungkook to make sure he was still consenting to everything. Smart thinking on Hoseok’s part, tricking Seokjin into bringing him along.

When they finally stumbled out of the suite, tired and aching, Namjoon paid for a deep cleaning while the receptionist glared at them like they had vandalised their fine establishment on purpose.

Taehyung acted as their chauffeur, too, and on their way back to Seoul, the first snowfall of the year caused a chain collision which they narrowly avoided. It blocked the road for hours, though, forcing them to share a bag of crisps for lunch as they watched emergency vehicles and snow plows drive past them.

Back in Seoul, Yoongi had nearly broken into his flat with the help of the ahjumma with three pet rabbits. Jungkook had texted his friends a few times, but he’d been too vague.

To Yoongi’s surprise, Jungkook melted into his arms and refused to let go until the poor omega was gagging at Namjoon’s rut scent, which still clung to Jungkook’s pores. He went to buy groceries while Jungkook showered – again – and cooked him a decadent meal.

Jungkook told him a lot of things, and it felt so good to open up to someone. He hugged Yoongi again, pushed him into his nest and told him he wasn’t allowed to leave.

That’s when Yoongi joked that their new alpha might have a problem with that.

“Your new alpha is stupid,” Jungkook said but asked Yoongi to show him a picture. And there he was, rimless glasses and heart-shaped smile.

“That’s my supervisor at work,” Jungkook blurted out. “Namjoon hyung gave him a sprained ankle.”

Later at work, Hoseok told Jungkook what a mindfuck it had been when Yoongi had returned from his expedition smelling like his best friend’s untimely rut. Jungkook laughed so hard that he fell off his chair.

Jungkook made up with Jimin as well, though a bit later. He was still hurt by the beta’s distrust, even if he logically understood that he’d caused some of it himself by keeping them in the dark for so long.

The snow had melted just as quickly as it had fallen, but Jungkook took Jimin ice skating at an indoor rink. It was a peace offer, a way for them to prove to each other that they could rebuild any trust that had been lost.

Namjoon got a bit jealous, calling ice skating a ‘date activity’. It was sort of adorable to see him sulk like a pup even though he knew that Jimin was happily mated and being courted by Hoseok.

The final hurdle, of course, was his cousin.

Jungkook and Seokjin never fought over the issue, but a tension remained, and that exists even now.

Jungkook finds himself at his cousin’s doorstep, just like the day he entered the company. The only difference is that Jungkook is wearing butterfly clips in his hair and an outfit picked by his alpha.

Seokjin is alone in his office. The pillow which Taehyung often kneels on is unoccupied, as is the couch next to the window.

“I sent him on an errand,” Seokjin offers in explanation before Jungkook can ask. “How are you?”

Jungkook says that he’s well, clasping his hands together. Seokjin says that he’s glad. They quickly run out of pleasantries, though. 

“You…” Seokjin starts again, sitting behind his imposing desk, “you are quite serious about dating Namjoon, aren’t you?”

Jungkook licks his lips. “I will ask him to mate me during my next heat cycle.”

The grimace on Seokjin’s face fades quickly, but it’s there. “Some part of me thinks that I would’ve acted this way regardless of who you decided to mate, but I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean, hyung?”

“If it must happen, at least it’s someone I’d personally trust with my dongsaeng’s life.”

In confusion, Jungkook stares at Seokjin much more directly than he’s used to. “You… you approve of us?”

Seokjin lets out a dry chuckle. “Is that so hard to believe? I know I didn’t take to the news very well, but you must understand that it was quite the shock when you came out of that door…”

Jungkook nods to save them both from recounting how Seokjin nearly punched Namjoon in the face to defend his cousin’s honour because he assumed that Namjoon had lost his mind and assaulted Jungkook. Fun times, indeed. 

“All I will say is that I’ve made my peace with this,” Seokjin says, tilting his head. “The only problem left is that Namjoon is your superior, and you never declared your relationship to HR.”

“Will Namjoon hyung get into trouble?”

Seokjin hums. “He definitely should. But there are certain… loopholes in the system, regarding omega employees specifically. You can sign a confidentiality form, and our HR rep will take care of the rest.”

Jungkook nods thoughtfully. “How about my job?”

“What about it?”

“Will I get to keep it?”

“That’s up to you,” Seokjin says softly. “We’ll give you glowing references, should you decide to move on.”

Jungkook glances at Taehyung’s pillow again. He feels conflicted; doesn’t want to make such a drastic decision.

Seokjin takes a nondescript folder out of his desk drawer and hands it to Jungkook. “I already gave Namjoon his copy. Go through everything together before signing off on anything. After that, you can think about your next move for as long as you want.”

Jungkook takes the folder, bowing slightly.

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin says when he’s about to leave. “You look beautiful in that outfit. Pink suits you well.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook says and heads toward Namjoon’s office, greeting everyone on his way. Jungkook’s alpha is in the middle of a Zoom call when he slips in quietly and kneels next to Namjoon’s feet, his head on the alpha’s knee.

“Missed you,” Namjoon whispers, running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair.

“Missed you too, Alpha.”