Chapter Text
Jimin recently graduated from university with a degree in something fancy-sounding, almost immediately snatched up by some big conglomerate looking for fresh blood in their marketing department. He isn’t one to brag, but he has worked damn hard to make sure his credentials are beyond stellar and his references glowing. In fact, he worked so hard over the past six years that his entire college experience is a blur of libraries, pen ink and too much caffeine. A string of all-nighters, practice room mirrors and the click of calculator buttons. The smell of sweat, car exhaust and burnt coffee.
Six years that will go to waste if anyone in the building looming in front of him finds out that he is a Werewolf.
Jimin shifts his grip on the messenger bag slung around his narrow shoulders, tugging just to feel the familiar weight as it bumps against his thigh. It holds all the papers he needs to prove that he is as human as they come, no furry ears or sharp claws or wild runs beneath a full moon. No second-class citizenship or stigmas or fear. Just human. Just Park Jimin, professional office worker.
But there is a ringing in his ears that refuses to go away, and it’s only getting louder.
Everything is going to be all right, he tells himself. You paid way too fucking much for these fakes to be caught. There is no way they could know. You thought of everything. It’s fine.
But his hands still shake so badly that he almost spills his coffee.
The muffled strains of Taeyang’s Eyes, Nose, Lips jars him from his thoughts as his phone buzzes to life in the pocket of his slacks. Fuck, maybe he should have changed his ringtone to something more professional. Jimin juggles his coffee and wallet in one hand as he digs his phone out with the other, hastily jabbing at the little green button to accept the call once he sees Hoseok’s goofy face light up the screen. “Hey, Hyung. I’m kind of busy right now. First day of work and all.”
“Jiminie! Of course I remember that it’s your first day of work! I just called to wish you good luck.” Even over the phone, Hoseok’s familiar voice puts Jimin more at ease. He can feel some of the tension bleed from his shoulders the longer Hoseok talks. “I know you are probably thinking of every possible way this could go wrong, so I wanted to talk you down from whatever ledge you’ve worked yourself up to.”
Hoseok knows him too well.
“I’m so fucked, Hyung.” Wandering over to take a seat on a nearby bench caught in the shadow of the company building, Jimin sighs. “They’re going to figure me out as soon as I walk through those doors. I’m going to walk in there and they are going to see a monster and fire me on the spot. They’ll call the police and I’ll spend maybe ten years in jail for identity fraud. After I get out, there will be a permanent black stain on my record and no one will hire me because I’m a useless Wolf who thought he could be something more. Then I’ll have to run back to Busan with my tail between my legs and my parents will say ‘I told you so’ and never let me live it down.” Jimin knows he is being dramatic, but it’s not like what he’s saying is completely absurd. He has seen it happen before. They all have.
Jimin can hear a slight whine from inside his head. His wolf rouses briefly from the drugged haze of the suppressants. He catches a faint disappointmentfrustrationsadnessfear before his wolf pushes a simple stop hiding through their bond-link. But they’ve been over this a hundred times—being a wolf gets you nowhere in life. Humans treat you like shit, giving you looks of fear and disgust, doors of opportunity close in your face and you end up working a shitty job in a sketchy part of town. No, it’s better to hide than go through that. Jimin calms his wolf down with a soothing thought before tuning back in to whatever Hoseok is saying on the other end of the phone.
“You were so thorough when you faked the papers and blood test. You’ve been on suppressants for that past three weeks, which you and I both know is plenty of time for them to circulate throughout your system and become effective,” Hoseok says soothingly. “There is no way the company could know you are a Wolf, Jiminie. It will all be okay.”
Jimin lets out a long breath, expelling his fears into the cool, morning air. He appreciates Hoseok so much in this moment because he knows everything Hoseok is saying is meant for him. Hoseok would never forge his papers or try to hide his wolf. He always tries to follow the system and do things the right, legal way. For years Jimin has watched him audition for all the best dance companies and crews, only to be turned away time and time again because of his Wolf status. But Hoseok never gives up. He refuses to believe that there isn’t a morally sound way to get through this barrier. So when he says, “Nobody has to know you are a Wolf, Jimin—not until you are ready,” Jimin believes him.
A small silence settles over them as Hoseok allows Jimin to stew in his thoughts, not pushing. “Hyung, I just…” Jimin starts, not really knowing how to put his thoughts into words. “I just feel so naked.”
Hoseok hums in understanding. “Is it the suppressants?”
“Yeah.” Jimin knows they’re necessary. He knows that suppressants stop omega heats and curb Wolf instincts, knows they’ll keep his eyes from flashing omega gold at inopportune moments, but he also knows they fuck up his system like nothing else. They strip him of his wolf’s sense of smell, his reflexes and his energy until he feels vulnerable and exposed. They are poison after all. He feels his wolf give a weak shiver.
“Jiminie, I’m not going to lecture you about suppressants again. You know I can’t support you taking that shit.” Hoseok sighs and Jimin immediately feels guilty, thinking back to when Hoseok’s last relationship fell apart because his ex-fiancé chose suppressants and his career over Hoseok. “But you also know I won’t try to stop you. I understand why you are doing what you are doing. I understand it’s the only way for you to pass off as human. That doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”
“I know, Hyung. I appreciate it.” And he really does. “I think I have to go in now or else I really will be late for my first day.”
Hoseok snorts rather unattractively. “Not like it would be the first time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Take care, Hyung. Thanks again for checking up on me and try not to worry too much,” Jimin says warmly, so grateful for his friends.
Hoseok signs off with a cheery goodbye and final well wishes before Jimin is left in the silence of his own mind once again. He eyes his watch a little spitefully as it ticks down the seconds until he has to face his fears. It’s now or never, so with squared off shoulders and Hoseok’s encouragement looping through his mind, Jimin marches toward his future with all the confidence he can muster.
The receptionist at the front desk gives him a bored once-over before asking for his name and appointment information in an almost impressively monotone drawl. When Jimin tells her he is the new intern, she points a perfectly manicured finger towards the elevators and directs him to the top floor. Pushing past the fog of suppressants and nerves, he attempts a smile and sincere ‘thank you’. Jimin’s brand new shoes squeak on the perfectly polished marble as he makes his way into the lion’s den.
At his floor, a round-faced human named Junsu who claims to be from HR meets him. Junsu takes Jimin on a whirlwind tour of the office, hitting all the important spots like the bathroom and the break lounge. Every little quip or joke that Junsu throws out puts Jimin more and more at ease, until he finds himself laughing along. Not even once does Junsu raise an eyebrow in anything like suspicion over Jimin’s identity. They sit down together to fill out some paperwork, just normal personnel file stuff, and Jimin hands over his Proof of Humanity with a confident flourish that makes Junsu smile. It feels like he is in the clear, the heavy weight of anxiety lifting form his shoulders.
“So this is the final stop, your very own cubicle. Look, I even wrote your name on it.” Jimin laughs at the little paper sign that says ‘Welcome Park Jimin!’ in Junsu’s messy chicken-scratch.
“Home away from home,” Jimin says, and for the first time in a long time, feels that sense of easy camaraderie he has been chasing for what seems like forever. It feels so good to be human, to be smiled at and complimented and taken seriously rather than feared. It makes the muted grey of the world while on suppressants worth it.
Just then, a young man walks into the room. Even with his dulled senses, Jimin can tell he is a wolf. It’s something about the corded muscles of his biceps and the way he carries himself with a subtle grace too quiet to be fully human. His wide, curious eyes remind Jimin of the weathered sea glass he use to collect as a kid on the misty beaches of Busan.
Jimin’s heart trips over itself before speeding up into a rapid race. Another wolf! They could help each other out, partners in crime to keep their secret under lock and key. They could—
“Oh, you’re here,” Junsu says with no small measure of exasperation, motioning the young man over. “I forgot to mention, Jimin, but we have a new company-wide policy.” Junsu looks a little sheepish. “All new employees must submit to being ‘Sniffed’.”
Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no nononono. Jimin had been so close, so close to pulling it off. He’d been sure this company didn’t have a Sniffer; he’d been so sure.
“This is our Sniffer, Jeongguk. To tell you the honest truth, the guy gives me the heebie-jeebies. He looks normal enough, but he’s actually a monster. You can see it in his eyes. I hear those Weres’ have got barbed dicks or some shit. Can you imagine? Don’t know why we still put up with them.” Jimin holds back a flinch at the harsh words, but Jeongguk stands there like nothing is wrong, barely blinking at the blatant insults being hurled at him. “It’s just a formality—a precaution, you know? The whole thing is silly. I mean, the documents and blood test should be enough, but apparently those have been faked before. Just being careful.”
Jimin nods numbly, too shocked to protest. Wolves are the only creatures able to smell other Wolves, so sometimes the wealthy companies will hire a Wolf to play tattle tale, to sniff out their brethren and report them to the authorities. Only a traitor would take a job as a Sniffer. This Jeongguk is a traitor to his people and Jimin hates him on the spot.
He must be glaring at Jeongguk, because Junsu chuckles. “You really don’t like Weres’, huh? Don’t worry—if he get’s out of hand, we’ll just collar him.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it sounds all too real.
Jeongguk looks up at Jimin through his lashes, his eyes dark and mysterious, giving nothing away. When he speaks, his voice is soft and lilting. “I’ll proceed now,” is all he says.
Jimin gulps as Jeongguk floats towards him with all the supple grace of a predator. In the confines of his mind, Jimin’s wolf stirs, fighting off the stupor of the suppressants. The wolf growls faintly, recognizing a threat from the spike in Jimin’s emotions. Without their sense of smell to guide them, both Jimin and his wolf feel too exposed to this unknown threat, this traitor Wolf.
Jeongguk’s eyes search for something, flicking back and forth across Jimin’s features as he steps forward. His hand is warm and calloused when he reaches for Jimin’s neck, thumb pressing in slightly as if asking for better access. Asking for submission. It’s such a blatantly alpha gesture that Jimin automatically complies, leaving his scent gland open. Jeongguk moves forward again, tucking himself into the crook of Jimin’s neck, nose brushing against the sensitive skin there. Shivering, Jimin’s hands clench around nothing. His nails bite into the soft curve of his palms, so unsure and vulnerable with this Wolf-boy burning hot and solid against him, touch like a brand against his neck. Jimin blames it on his Heat Cycle—it would be his time of year right now if he hadn’t taken those suppressants. Maybe the ghost of his Heat is screwing with him, making him want dangerous things. Jeongguk lingers, thumb brushing in a soothing gesture under the cut of Jimin’s jaw before someone obnoxiously clears his throat. Junsu.
Jeongguk leaps back as if he’s been burned, hands balling into fists by his sides. Jimin can’t look him in the eye, can’t look anywhere but his own foot scuffing awkwardly against the carpet, so embarrassed by the way he had automatically submitted to such a Wolf. A traitor. And all the guilt of liking a traitor’s touch. The intimacy of it all feels dirty, voyeuristic eyes on them in judgement.
“Well?” Junsu says loudly into the tense silence. “What is the result?”
This is the moment I lose everything I’ve ever worked for, Jimin thinks, finally looking up to meet Jeongguk’s stare. If he is going to hell, he is going down looking at the man dragging him there. Glaring defiantly, Jimin dares Jeongguk to say something, dares him to accuse Jimin of being a Wolf.
Jeongguk blinks once. Twice. And then, for some reason beyond Jimin’s comprehension, Jeongguk says, “He’s human.”
What? Human? Jimin has to keep his jaw from dropping open in shock. Why in the world would Jeongguk decide to leave Jimin be in his little charade? Is it for blackmail? Future sabotage? Pity? Or maybe Jeongguk really didn’t smell the Wolf on him. Maybe the suppressants are really that effective. No matter which way he looks at it, it doesn’t make sense.
“I knew it. Well that’s fine then. Just fine,” Junsu says smugly, breaking the moment. “You can be on you way, Were’. Scamper back to your little den or wherever you go.”
Jeongguk still hasn’t taken his eyes off Jimin, just giving him the oddest look. “Sure,” he drawls.
Jimin has been having odd stomach cramps all day and a hot shower sounds like the best thing in the world right now, but there is something neon and yellow stuck to the bottom corner of his desktop screen when he comes back to his cubicle that evening, excited to pack up and go home. It’s an unassuming square, a generic sticky note. Probably off-brand. There are only three words on it, printed neatly so the words are painfully legible. “Take tomorrow off” it reads.
No… it can’t be…
Suddenly, Jeongguk’s odd looks from earlier clicks as Jimin feels something funny and warm settle deep in his belly. A warmth that is all too familiar.
Fuck Jeongguk and his alpha nose. Jimin can feel his own Heat closing in around him, and knows that Jeongguk must have smelled it too. But it’s impossible! The suppressants should have stopped his body’s natural processes, including his Heat. Maybe he hasn’t been taking them for long enough for them to be in full effect? Or maybe the symptoms will be a milder version of his typical cycle? The moon knows all omega heats are different—Taehyung’s are certainly nothing like Jimin’s—so maybe the suppressants are just meant to change the nature of the Heat? Maybe Jimin is being paranoid and nothing will come out of the pulsing warmth in his belly.
Jimin groans as he plops down on his spin-y chair. It seems like he is out of the frying pan and into the fire.
"Are you insane? What are you doing here? I told you to stay home!” Jeongguk hisses in Jimin’s ear, a little red in the face. “What about your heat? You’re not seriously telling me you can’t feel it, right?"
Jimin yanks his arm back from where Jeongguk has it in a death grip, a little woozy from the combination of suppressants and pre-Heat symptoms. "I can't just bail on my second day of work! This is a very prestigious internship program. Do you even know how hard I had to work to get in here? Do you realize how many people would kill for my position? Thousands, Jeongguk!” Jimin looks around, surreptitiously checking to make sure none of their coworkers are skulking around close enough to hear. “I can hold it off for a day until the weekend," he whispers, frowning stubbornly.
"That's not how biology works, Jimin.” Clearly frustrated, Jeongguk pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “You can't just tell it to fuck off until it's more convenient.” Does this kid get off on speaking down to him or is it an alpha posturing thing? Either way it’s getting old real fast. Jeongguk continues with a lowered volume. “I know you’re on suppressants—hell, all I can smell on you is chemicals and hormones—but whatever you’re taking, it’s complete shit.” Jeongguk narrows his eyes, making Jimin feel very small all of a sudden. “Let me guess: you thought you hit the jackpot when you took the first batch and all they did was fuck up your sense of smell and give you a mild headache instead of the debilitating pain and nausea you heard horror stories about when your little omega buddies tried suppressants for the first time.” Jimin flinches. Jeongguk pretty much hit the nail on the head, but he doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know how scared Jimin was after hearing the stories of Hoseok’s ex-fiancé and that mess of a situation. He doesn’t need to know that Jimin got the suppressants through a friend of a friend who promised him a better outcome if he was willing to pay the big bucks. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause they’re fake. Your dealer is a fucking fraud. Bet he has you paying a premium too.” Sighing, Jeongguk scratches awkwardly at the back of his head, ruffling his hair and looking away. “If you really want suppressants that badly, I know a guy. He’s a good Hyung. His name is Namjoon. He'll get you sorted."
Furious, Jimin recoils. “Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you are to tell me how to live my life? Just because you are an alpha doesn’t mean you can control me. I can figure out my own suppressants, thanks.” Stupid alphas and their stupid control freak tendencies. Jimin doesn’t need someone telling what to do in that derisive tone. He suffered through 18 years of his parents doing just that, and he doesn’t need some hotheaded boy-alpha taking up the mantle. “Kindly fuck all the way off.”
Jimin feels Jeongguk’s eyes on him as he huffs off, wide and confused and maybe a little intrigued.
As the day wears on, Jimin starts to get more and more uncomfortable. He feels restless and a little feverish, his vision occasionally going hazy around the edges. He has this tight feeling in the pit of his stomach that keeps building in intensity. But his boss has just given him a big assignment—due Monday, thank you very much—and Jimin feels as if he’s been tossed into the deep end after only one swimming lesson. At this point, he would happily sell his soul to Excel if it meant finishing this goddamn project even a minute faster.
Jimin is so caught up in budget spreadsheets and raw data that he doesn’t notice how late it has gotten. The office is more or less empty—just lost souls remaining. Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes and squirming in discomfort on his chair. He just feels on-edge. Like he needs something, but can’t quite put a finger on what it was. He rubs his thighs together and shivers at the tingles it sends up his spine. The tight feeling in his lower belly has become a throbbing ache, radiating outward until it feels like his whole body is buzzing. A couple more hours, he thinks. Need to make through a couple more hours.
Just then, Jeongguk stumbles in, nose twitching and eyes a little wild. “Jimin, you—“
That’s when Jeongguk’s alpha scent finally hits him, overcoming the faulty suppressants for the first time. It’s warm—the musky smell of alpha combined with just a hint of something sweet. Jimin’s jaw goes slack with the intense wave of desire that crashes over him, a strangled sound ripped from his throat. He can feel slick seeping into his underwear as he grinds back into his chair a little. “Oh.”
“Jimin, you need to go home. Right now.” Jeongguk speaks through gritted teeth, but the words come to Jimin hazily, as if through a thick fog. Jimin vaguely registers that Jeongguk’s nails have extended into claws and are digging into the doorframe.
“I—oh.”
That’s when the full Heat hit.