Archive of Our Own

It’s been a few days since Yoongi offered to help Jungkook out for his nesting season, and things have been…

Strange.

When Yoongi is buzzed up into Jungkook’s apartment, he expects him to come out bounding towards him as usual, so full of energy that Yoongi isn’t sure if it’s the wolf in him or just simply Jungkook.

Instead, Jungkook opens the door bundled up like it’s the start of winter even if it’s the middle of June. A thick jacket on with mittens, the hood over his head, and his usual boots, only missing a scarf. His hair is ruffled, visible through the hood, his cheeks flushed a healthy pink, and Jungkook shoots him a tired-looking smile.

"Hyung," he greets, and Yoongi’s lips purse in concern.

"Are you still okay to go out?"

Jungkook bobs his head, already stepping past Yoongi, but Yoongi stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Cold?" he asks, and Jungkook nods again. Yoongi’s frown deepens. He’s learning more about werewolves every day, and there’s a lot he’s had to set aside. Wolves and werewolves were very different from each other, it turned out.

"Let me put this in first, okay?"

Jungkook drops his gaze and goes—

"Oh." Soft, like a breath of air. His flushed cheeks darken. He looks up again, wide-eyed, and there. That’s what Yoongi means by things being strange. It’s just one thing out of many, but it’s one of the most persistent things.

Recently, Jungkook’s been giving him these odd looks, his already-big doe eyes seeming to impossibly enlarge even more, taking up half of his face. It’s giving Yoongi palpitations.

"You brought me water?" Jungkook sounds like he’s about to cry, his throat choked up.

"I—yes." Yoongi reaches down, but Jungkook beats him to it. He grabs the 20-pack of bottled water and hoists it upwards like it weighs nothing, cradling it towards his chest like he thinks Yoongi’s going to take it away from him. "You mentioned bottled water is easier since it’s ready."

He saw yesterday that Jungkook was running out, and Jungkook already mentioned he hated grocery shopping so close to his nesting season. Too many scents and too many people, he had claimed. It’s Yoongi’s fault anyway; he had taken the time to prep a set of meals good for a week, but he hadn’t thought of hydration ahead of time.

"Thank you," Jungkook says effusively. He sniffs. He takes a step back, and Yoongi follows him inside, watching in confusion as Jungkook hovers at the doorway, obviously hesitating before he ducks his head.

"Wait here, hyung. I’ll go, ah, I’ll put it near my…" Jungkook stalls, swallowing. "My nest," he whispers, like he doesn’t want Yoongi to hear.

"Sure," Yoongi says, and he straightens up, reminded. He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Oh, is your nest done?"

"No!" Jungkook squeaks, and he hides behind the pack of bottled water, taking a step back. "It, um, needs more blankets, but it’s fine, it’s okay—"

"I can help you," Yoongi tries again, but Jungkook’s already speeding away. He hears a thud and a strange, vaguely Jungkook-sounding high-pitched noise in the other room, before it’s quickly cut off.

See?

Strange.

"All good?" He asks when Jungkook’s finally left his nest, and Jungkook nods. He doesn’t look Yoongi in the eye, avoiding his gaze with his cheeks flushed. He quietly gets Bam out of his crate, and Yoongi helps prep Bam’s things while he leashes Bam up. Toys and a 1-week supply of dog food go into a bag, and Yoongi slings it over his good shoulder once everything’s in place.

"Let’s go," Yoongi leads, and Jungkook and Bam both trail after him.

•··········•··········•

There’s not a lot of information online about a werewolf’s nesting season.

There’s not a lot of information online about werewolves in general, Yoongi has to admit.

Most of what he knows about them is from spending time with and talking to Jungkook, and even then, Yoongi isn’t very sure which parts of Jungkook are just him and which parts are because he’s a werewolf.

He’s seen nesting seasons come and go in the few years he’s been friends with Jungkook, and what he’s noticed is this:

Jungkook takes around a week to prepare, busy and harried every time Yoongi sees him, completely preoccupied with a million different things. He’s seen him irritable, he’s seen him whiny, he’s even seen him dead-eyed with fatigue, but without fail, it always looks like he’s having a terrible time. He’s helped Jungkook out in other ways, along with their friends, in the guise of treating him to meals, the rare times he’d show up. Yoongi had even babysat Bam one memorable year before he had gotten Tangie.

But never to the extent he was helping Jungkook now. Not so involved.

After his week of preparation, Jungkook then takes another week or so isolated. Completely off the grid, no texts, no calls, no replies on their group chat, just locked up in his apartment as he goes through his time of the year. Yoongi doesn’t see him until he emerges, more often than not looking worse for wear, but at least relieved it’s over.

Yoongi isn’t quite sure what happens during that week; Jungkook’s too quiet about it.

He thinks he knows enough to help Jungkook out before it, and he has his own assumptions and theories, one of which is more obvious than others.

What else would a nesting season even entail?

So far, he’s made sure that Jungkook’s refrigerator is well stocked with both food and water, a week’s worth of meal prep stacked on the shelves. He made sure it was perfectly balanced, taking into account Jungkook’s preference for red, rawer meat, but still with a good amount of fruits and vegetables and rice. It had taken him a good portion of a day to prep, cook, and pack everything, but it was worth it to see Jungkook’s eyes go wide and hear his sincere thanks when he received it yesterday.

"I’ll miss you," Jungkook weeps, hugging Bam close, and Bam licks his face.

Yoongi doesn’t tell him it’s only a week or so. A week is a long time for a dog, and Jungkook is sensitive and emotional as is. He only silently shifts and lets Jungkook pet Bam’s flank, his dark ears, Bam’s tail thwacking back and forth as Jungkook holds him close.

"My baby," Jungkook sniffs. He buries his face into Bam’s neck and pulls him closer to his chest, even as his dog tries to wiggle away from his death grip.

"Is he okay?" Taehyung whispers.

"I think so?" Yoongi tries.

"Hyuuung, take care of him, please, you know he’s needy," Jungkook grips Taehyung’s legs from the floor, and Taehyung laughs.

“Who’s needy? Him or you?” Taehyung teases, and Jungkook growls, Bam immediately echoing it. Taehyung grins, unbothered. "Aish, you know I will. At least Yoongi hyung’s taking care of you."

Jungkook makes a strange sound at that, and he moves his head, attempting to bite Taehyung through his slacks. Taehyung yelps, shoving him off, and Bam barks at the sudden movement. He wags his tail, and Yoongi steps back as Bam takes it as playtime. He weaves his body between Taehyung and Jungkook, chaos erupting for a few seconds before they manage to get him settled again.

Jungkook holds his hand as they leave Bam to Taehyung, and the back of Yoongi’s neck warms.

He’s still teary-eyed when they get back into Yoongi’s car, and Yoongi purses his lips tight before he throws out his offer.

"Do you want to drop by IKEA? Or well—something less overwhelming, there might be too many people there…" Yoongi trails off, looking at the wheel in consideration, and then down to his seat belt to buckle himself in. He absentmindedly adjusts his glasses.

"Why?" Jungkook’s voice is small.

"You said you needed more blankets for your nest," Yoongi reminds, and he watches as Jungkook’s wet gaze suddenly goes wide.

"Oh." He turns away from Yoongi, and the reflection in the window is blurry, but Yoongi catches him opening and closing his mouth, so expressive, yet a book in a language that Yoongi’s still learning how to read. He’s quiet for so long that Yoongi’s starting to worry he’s overstepped somehow, again.

"Okay," Jungkook says, just as Yoongi’s about to take it back. Yoongi presses his lips together, and Jungkook turns to him, his hand over his mouth. He’s not meeting Yoongi’s eyes, raising them to stare at something above Yoongi’s head. It exposes the front of his neck, his Adam’s apple prominent as it bobs up and down.

There’s a strange tension between them. The air feels strangely thick, and there’s—a tickle at the back of Yoongi’s throat, an itch at the back of his neck. His nostrils instinctively flare, and Yoongi’s brows furrow as he catches—something. An offness to the air. Not in a bad way, just…different. Indescribable to him. Beyond him.

"We can do that," Jungkook whispers. He looks away and covers his ears, tilting his neck towards Yoongi, the long line of muscle visible. He flicks his eyes back towards him, and Yoongi feels strangely caught.

Yoongi clears his throat and starts the car.

"There’s a smaller shop near my place. It’s run by an ahjussi—"

"Your age?" Jungkook interrupts, and the tension dissipates as Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Aish," he grumbles, shaking his head, and he says nothing as Jungkook giggles, even when Jungkook abruptly rolls down the window. He leans his head and takes a deep, visible breath, eyes closing. The tension in his shoulders eases.

Yoongi lets him be. He backs out of the parking lot and turns his eyes away. They don’t talk during the entire drive, the quiet between them peaceful. Only the music between them, his and Jungkook’s private Spotify blend. It switches between pop and hip hop, and Jungkook doesn’t sing along like he usually does.

Quiet, almost reflective in the way Yoongi catches him sometimes.

At certain points during the drive, he feels Jungkook’s eyes on him. Assessing, but not judgmental.

The ahjussi in the store helps them to some nice sheets, a thick blanket, and some soft, fluffy pillows.

"Thank you, hyung," Jungkook says when Yoongi drops him off. He still isn’t meeting Yoongi’s gaze. He touches his neck and bites his lip. "I think, ah…Just another day, and it’ll be time."

"Okay." Yoongi nods. "Do you need anything else tomorrow? Food and water enough?"

Jungkook’s grip tightens around the shopping bags. He puffs his cheek and scuffs his right shoe against the asphalt, back and forth, a minute passing as Yoongi shifts on his feet. He’s patient, doesn’t press, just waits for Jungkook.

"Would you, ah…" Jungkook trails off, and Yoongi blinks.

"What?" He asks. "Anything, really. Don’t worry."

"Would you have happened to have done your laundry yet?" Jungkook’s shoulders draw in, and Yoongi’s lip quirks.

"I have a few days' worth, maybe."

"Can you bring them?" Jungkook briefly meets his gaze.

Yoongi doesn’t even blink. "Yeah, sure."

Jungkook quickly bobs his head and takes a step back.

"Okay," he says. "Good. See you tomorrow then, hyung-nim."

It comes out stilted, too polite, and Jungkook bows, his face red. When he comes up from his bow, he lifts his shopping bag all the way up to hide his face.

"See you," Yoongi says, scratching the back of his neck, and Jungkook flees.

•··········•··········•

Jungkook asking for unwashed laundry is actually one of the less strange things about his behavior. It’s not the first time he’s done it; he’s asked their friends to bring over laundry before, and it always comes back clean and fresh. Yoongi’s just assuming it’s Jungkook's form of stress relief.

It’s still a little embarrassing to give a friend his underwear, so Yoongi always sorts it out. He packs everything but his underwear in a laundry bag, freshens up, and then heads over to Jungkook’s apartment first thing in the morning.

Again, Jungkook greets him at the door, looking like he’s wearing three layers. Pajama pants and a hoodie, more underneath, his messy hair peeking through the top of the hood.

This time, though, it feels different.

There’s a shift in his energy, and Yoongi doesn’t move from where he’s standing, laundry bag at his feet.

Yesterday, Jungkook looked dead on his feet. A fatigue you couldn’t replicate.

Now, Jungkook’s shifting back and forth, his feet covered in fuzzy socks, and Yoongi knows he’s taller, that Jungkook’s more muscled than him, but it’s even more obvious now with the way Jungkook is standing. The way he’s blocking the entrance to his door, a tension to him that Yoongi hasn’t seen before.

When Jungkook reaches out to take the laundry bag, his hands are shaking.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi rasps, and Jungkook’s nod is jerky. He says nothing.

He opens up the bag, takes in a deep breath, and just slumps. His eyes go half-lidded, muscles unknotting, body sinking to rest against the door frame. No longer fully blocking it the way he was doing earlier.

Yoongi swallows.

"It smells like you," Jungkook quietly says. His lips twitch, an almost smile, and Yoongi watches as Jungkook takes the shirt at the very top to inhale it. He presses it to his face, the fabric scrunching between his hands, his expression hidden, but the sound of him audible.

"Ah," Yoongi croaks. His fists curl. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Jeon Jungkook is smelling his shirt.

Jungkook lowers it, uncovering his face, and then somehow, despite being taller than Yoongi, he looks up at him through his long eyelashes.

"Hyung," he says, and his voice is strange. A tone to it Yoongi’s never heard before, a lilt that has his stomach warming up. Jungkook leans in, tilting his neck to the side, bottom lip drawn into his mouth before he releases it.

"Do you want to help build my nest?"

"Oh," Yoongi says in surprise. He straightens up, putting Jungkook’s strange behavior behind him. "Yeah, sure, I can do that." His mind is already whirling, wondering if he should have brought a screwdriver or something, and what kind of nest Jungkook wants.

Jungkook steps back, and it feels like permission, so Yoongi steps in. He takes off his shoes at the door, and—he’s expecting Jungkook to keep stepping back, to lead him to where his nest is, but—

Jungkook closes the distance between them as soon as his shoes are off. He hugs Yoongi, the laundry bag dangling beside him, and Yoongi’s startled. He raises his arms anyway and hugs Jungkook back in a delayed greeting, his stomach burning as Jungkook sniffs directly into his shoulder.

"You smell clean," Jungkook states.

"Ah. I showered before I went here," Yoongi tries to explain. Jungkook releases him, still holding onto his laundry bag like he thinks Yoongi’s going to take it back.

"Oh, I mean…you don’t smell like anyone." This time, Jungkook does what Yoongi first expected him to do. He starts walking, and Yoongi follows him, two steps behind.

"I went straight here."

"Good." It’s firm, but said cutely, and Yoongi’s lip twitches. Jungkook reaches behind him and takes his hand, and—it’s not like Jungkook’s never held his hand before. Yoongi remembers very clearly every time Jungkook held his hand before.

He’s just a little taken aback at how….affectionate Jungkook is? He’s always been affectionate with all of them, like a little puppy he’d always privately think, unsure if that was offensive to think about werewolves, but. This is different. This is Jungkook slowing down so they’re step by step, his other arm coming to curl around Yoongi’s, the laundry bag knocking his side.

This is Jungkook resting his head on Yoongi’s, sniffing at his hair, so attached to him that he’s on the verge of tripping over his own feet. This is Jungkook, nuzzling at his temple, Yoongi’s face starting to grow warm at the proximity and the touching.

He feels uncomfortable, but it’s the kind that comes from him just not being used to being touched like this. To Jungkook touching him like this. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or his face, or his body. He feels like he’s having acid reflux, and he reflexively clenches his stomach and swallows it down.

Whenever Jungkook mentioned his nest, Yoongi had tried to imagine what it must look like. A common bird’s nest, maybe? High sides and circular, with a depression in the middle. Not made with twigs, obviously, but blankets and sheets.

He saw a video online before describing the different nests that different birds can build.

It was a 15-minute video that went into brief detail on how they’re made of different materials, depending on what’s available to the bird, and their form was mostly related to function and the environment around them. Birds didn’t just nest in trees, but also on the ground, on buildings, or even inside cliffs. The nests in trees are just as varied, from simple, common cups to cavity nests inside tree holes for woodpeckers, and hanging, pendulum nests for weavers. There are platforms for hawks, and mounds and spheres in bushes. The shorebirds have their scrape nests, shallow depressions made in sand.

Beautiful, intricate things, really such wonders of nature.

Some birds don't have nests at all, such as emperor penguins, who simply lay their eggs on the flat ground, then cradle them between their feet to keep them warm.

And then there are pigeons.

Pigeons, who make minimal, flimsy nests, because they’re descendants of doves that used to nest in the holes of cliffs, and never really learned how to nest in cities.

Jungkook, apparently, nests like a pigeon.

Yoongi blinks, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of Jungkook’s room. There are two mattresses pushed together on the floor, right against a wall, with a singular towel rolled up near the head of one. A lone blanket is half off the mattress and dipping onto the carpeted floor.

"What do you think?" Jungkook shyly asks.

"Hmm." Yoongi very diplomatically says.

His eyes discreetly roam the room until he finds what he’s looking for. The shopping bags from yesterday, previously filled to the brim with new sheets, a blanket, and fluffy pillows, rest empty near the window. There’s a hamper near the mattresses, and that’s where Yoongi spots the familiar fabrics.

"Did you not like what we bought yesterday?" He carefully asks, taking the moment to take off his glasses and wipe them on the bottom of his shirt, and Jungkook leans in to hook his chin over his shoulder.

"It smells too much like the store," he mumbles in response. "I washed them and dried them, but then it smelled too clean."

Yoongi can feel his pout on his shoulder through his shirt.

"Can you make it smell like you?" Jungkook hopefully asks, and Yoongi’s neck heats.

"Oh. Yeah."

Jungkook stays close to him as Yoongi waddles to the hamper. It’s a little difficult to pull the sheets and the blanket out with how Jungkook is clinging to him, but Yoongi doesn’t even dare to gently suggest Jungkook give him space.

For ease, he dumps them on the mattresses with a little thump.

"Just…" Jungkook trails off, making a gesture with his hands, but Yoongi stares at him, uncomprehending, and Jungkook gives up on miming immediately.

He takes one of the sheets and pushes it back into Yoongi’s arms, smooshing it into his face and knocking his glasses, rubbing the fabric against his neck, his cheeks, his hair.

"Yah—" Yoongi jerks back, but Jungkook whines, and Yoongi can’t do anything but freeze.

He stays still as Jungkook takes the sheet, then presses his nose into it to inspect it, before he draws it away, a scrunch to his eyebrows that speaks of his dissatisfaction. Jungkook repeats the process, and this time, Yoongi holds still as Jungkook rubs it all over him.

He tries to draw a line when Jungkook tries to shove it up his shirt, but Jungkook whines even louder when Yoongi grabs his arm to stop him.

"You—you smell stronger there—hyung, please—"

And perhaps their friends are right when they say Yoongi lets Jungkook do anything. He releases Jungkook’s arm and just...slumps, looking up at the ceiling with his eyes closed, his face burning, as Jungkook happily rubs the sheet against his stomach, his chest, and—for the love of it all—even his armpits.

"Happy?" Yoongi can’t help the snip of his tone, but Jungkook only beams at him, and Yoongi’s lip twitches in a smaller, matching smile.

Aish.

He’s too weak.

Jungkook repeats the process with the other sheet, then another, then the blanket, even the pillows, until Yoongi’s left feeling rubbed raw, like he just had a body scrub at a spa.

Yoongi clears his throat once.

"Okay," he says. He doesn’t know what to say.

Yoongi clears his throat again.

"How do you want to build this?" he asks, because he has no idea what a nest is supposed to look like.

"Darker," Jungkook admits. "I want it…safe. And secure."

Yoongi slowly nods. He’s looking around the room again, his brain working as he thinks about how to make something structurally sound yet comfortable, something that would fit Jungkook’s specifics and satisfy him.

"Have you ever made a blanket fort?" he asks, and even in the dark, he can see Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

They get to moving around some of Jungkook’s furniture. His cabinet and his drawer, they push both closer to the wall where his mattresses are. They arrange his chair and his desk so that the mattresses are almost fully enclosed behind them. There’s only a small opening left between his furniture that’s big enough to fit him and Jungkook.

The whole time, Jungkook seems to grow more and more affectionate.

At first, he had been helping Yoongi, putting his muscles to good use as they moved the furniture against the carpet. As soon as they’re in place, a sheet draped and secured over the top, enclosing the nest and darkening the area further, and Yoongi started on the mattresses themselves, it’s like…

A switch is flicked.

Jungkook carefully and sweetly rubs his warm nose against the back of Yoongi’s ear while he’s tucking the sheet under one of the mattresses. His hands on Yoongi’s shirt are clenched like he can’t bear to let go.

Jungkook buries his face in Yoongi’s neck, already damp with sweat, the heat of his body flushed against his as he happily sniffs. They’ve never been pressed this close before, never this much contact between them.

Truthfully, it’s making it difficult to build a nest. And—Yoongi, shamefully, can’t control the way his body reacts.

It feels similar to anxiety, the way his heart pounds faster, and his breathing goes quick and shallow. His hands grow clumsy, shaky as he places a border of pillows so there’s a buffer against the hard furniture, making sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally hit his head or roll into them and injure himself.

He sits back, looking around the nest they’ve made, assessing it for structural defects or points of injury, when Jungkook crawls back in front of him.

And then sits on his lap.

"Ah—Jungkook—" he’s flustered, shifting his hips away. He doesn’t know where to put his hands. His face feels terribly hot. His stomach protests.

Jungkook whines.

He’s so warm, Yoongi’s noticed by now. He’s burning up; it’s like he’s running a fever, and he’s wearing multiple layers. It can’t be comfortable.

"Maybe it’s better if you take this off," he tugs at Jungkook’s hoodie in concern, and Jungkook clumsily nods. Yoongi helps him wiggle out of it, revealing a sweater underneath, and then Jungkook leans off his lap to tuck it into his nest, over one of the pillows. He’s sweating, Yoongi notices from this close, beads of sweat dripping down his flushed face, hair damp.

Yoongi frowns.

"Do you want some water?"

"Finish the nest first," Jungkook mumbles, and he rubs at his eyes, his mouth, shaking his head as he scratches at both sides of his neck.

"You sure?"

Jungkook’s head bobs, his eyebrows scrunched, and his lips twisted. Yoongi exhales, short and quick. He relents.

"Maybe this, too," Yoongi suggests. If Jungkook wants to keep going with making his nest, he can at least be more comfortable. He cautiously runs his hand over Jungkook’s sweater, and Jungkook dumbly, obediently nods.

"Okay." It comes out breathy, and Yoongi swallows. He tugs Jungkook’s shirt down as Jungkook strips off his sweater, keeping it from rising, revealing only a strip of his belly before Yoongi keeps it secure. Jungkook does the same thing he did with his hoodie, laying his sweater over one of the pillows.

"What else do we need?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer him, only crawls out of his lap, the loss of heat immediate and striking. He leaves through the little gap in the furniture and comes back seconds later, dragging Yoongi’s laundry bag.

He doesn’t dump Yoongi’s clothes out. Instead, he carefully pulls out each article of clothing one by one, sniffing it first to inspect it before he lays them over the other pillows. Layers of clothes, and Yoongi tries to help at first, but there seems to be an order to it that he doesn’t get, a criterion that Yoongi doesn’t know.

He sits and observes, trying to sus it out.

There are some clothes that Jungkook visibly rejects, his nose scrunching when he smells them, and Yoongi’s eyebrows lift as he throws them out the tiny gap, all the way outside of his nest. A small pile grows, but the rest stay.

Even as he works on finishing his nest, Jungkook sticks close. He turns and crawls back to Yoongi now and then, sniffing at him, rubbing at his shoulder with his face and chin. Yoongi indulges him, smiling in confusion even when Jungkook leaves again to add another shirt or pair of shorts to his nest.

He doesn’t know what makes Jungkook decide, but abruptly, he announces, "It’s done."

"Is it?" Yoongi asks, and Jungkook turns to him. His eyes are so big and dark, almost black.

"Do you like it?"

"Of course I do," Yoongi says. The base is stable, the edges are secure. It’s dark, like Jungkook requested, the light so minimal that Yoongi’s struggling to see anything farther than a foot away. Structurally sound and appealing. Soft and comfy, the sheet over them is light but does its job.

"It looks perfect."

Jungkook squirms. Even in the dark, he looks impossibly redder underneath his already present flush.

"Oh," Jungkook shyly says. Yoongi can’t help his quizzical smile.

He hasn’t seen Jungkook this shy in a while. This whole week, Jungkook’s been strangely shy with him, and Yoongi doesn't understand why.

"Does, ah," Jungkook starts, looking away. He takes a deep breath, then blurts it out in a whisper, like it’s a secret—"Does hyung want to, um, nest with me now?"

"Oh," Yoongi says, his eyes flickering over Jungkook’s face. "Sure."

Jungkook nervously bobs his head, and—Yoongi doesn't want him to be nervous around him. He wants Jungkook to be comfortable. To be himself. He doesn't know what else to do but reach forward and touch Jungkook’s thigh, a comforting motion meant to soothe.

"Hyung," Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

"Do you—do you want me to take my pants off already?" Jungkook shyly tugs at the bottom of his shirt and.

What.

"Take your pants off?" Yoongi echoes, flustered, and Jungkook blushes.

"Or, um, all my clothes already…? If hyung wants." he’s stuttering, tripping over his words, blinking quickly.

"I—" Yoongi’s face must be just as red as Jungkook’s. "What—why would you take off your clothes? Is it because you're feeling hot? Do you want me to turn up the air conditioner?" He’s rambling.

"So we can—" Jungkook clears his throat. Covers his ears. "So we can nest," he whispers in embarrassment.

Yoongi coughs. "Do you usually nest without clothes on?"

And his question must be so fucking stupid, because it knocks Jungkook’s shyness straight out, his friend dropping his hands to stare at him in disbelief.

"How else are we going to have sex?" Jungkook demands, and—Yoongi squeaks.

It’s an embarrassing sound, one he’d deny making for the rest of his fucking life. But he thinks it’s better than dumbly repeating sex ?!?!??!???? at Jungkook’s sweaty, flushed face.

"Oh," Jungkook says in sympathy. He pouts, leaning in. "Is hyung shy, too? It’s okay. You already did so much."

"It’s nothing," Yoongi automatically says, even as he leans back, his eyes wide and heart pounding as Jungkook shifts to his hands and knees, erasing the minimal distance Yoongi has made.

"I just—ah—" His eyes drop to the way Jungkook starts playing with his shirt.

He doesn’t think he’s even breathing.

"I just—I just wanted to help."

Jungkook exhales, and Yoongi can feel the heat of it against his face, his glasses fogging up. He’s dumbfounded, at a loss for any more words. Normally so eloquent and well-versed, his brain’s just white noise now.

What…?

"Hyung’s so cute," Jungkook sighs. He tilts his head, bares his neck.

Jungkook peeks at him through his eyelashes, and it feels like a significant motion somehow, the way he keeps his head there and waits.

Yoongi swallows. He doesn’t move.

Sex????? He thinks again.

Jungkook frowns.

"Hyung was so forward with me this whole week," Jungkook mumbles grumpily. His eyebrows draw together. "Now he won’t even touch me."

Yoongi opens his mouth to finally voice it out, to ask—what do you mean we’re going to have sex—but Jungkook moves before he can. He pushes Yoongi onto his back, and Yoongi’s hands fly up to grasp his shoulder, his waist, the first things he can reach, and Jungkook climbs into his lap and purrs.

Jungkook looks down at him. The sheet above him makes it so Yoongi can’t look at anything but him. Jungkook's eyes are so dark, blown open wide, the sweat already dampening his neck and his last layer. If Yoongi didn't know better…he’d say that Jungkook looks hungry.

"Hyung," Jungkook breathes, and he reaches down and tugs his shirt off.

Yoongi’s face burns, his saliva drying in his mouth. His heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest and dismantle the nest.

Jungkook’s not even shirtless. He’s still wearing a white tank top underneath his loose shirt, but it’s soaked in sweat, sticking to his skin, the defined contours of his body highlighted and made plain even in the dark. It’s fucking impossible.

"Jungkook," he helplessly croaks. Jungkook takes his hand, holds it sweetly, shyly, carefully.

"Like this, hyung," Jungkook whispers, and then he slides their hands up under his tank, lets Yoongi feel his overly heated skin, baby smooth and sticky with sweat. "Touch me like this."

"Jungkook," Yoongi repeats in a gasp.

Jungkook lets go. The proper thing to do is pull his hand out from under Jungkook’s shirt, to ask what the hell is going on, but—he can feel Jungkook’s nipple just by his middle finger, small and cute, and Yoongi’s hand twitches.

"Hyung," Jungkook moans.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for why Jungkook’s on top of him, moaning so sweet for him, legs spread wide over either side of his thighs.

Jungkook leans forward, and Yoongi jerks back, thinking for a second that shit, he’s going to kiss me, but Jungkook only embraces him. Nuzzles his neck with his nose, then close behind his ear. Yoongi’s no stranger to this; he’s seen Jungkook sniff at them, and he doesn’t know much, but he knows it’s a wolf thing. He’s done it enough today that Yoongi expects much of the same.

The slick, wet brush of Jungkook’s lips, though, is new, and he shudders, grip tightening around Jungkook’s hips.

"Why didn’t you…why didn’t you say anything sooner?" Jungkook whispers. His voice sounds—dreamy, a little hazy. He’s taking deep, open-mouthed breaths at the juncture of Yoongi’s neck.

"What?" Yoongi asks, just as lost as he’s been since Jungkook offered to take his clothes off.

He’s finding it difficult to think straight. Jungkook’s hot and heavy on top of him, embracing him so needily, and Yoongi’s trying his best to ignore the way his cock is chubbing up between them, or Jungkook’s own against his thigh.

He must be sweating everywhere because even Yoongi’s lap is damp.

Jungkook lifts his head and—fuck. He doesn’t look fully present. It’s the way he looks when he’s had a few drinks, loose and sliding easily.

"Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?" Jungkook pouts.

And Yoongi freezes, his eyes going wide. His mouth slackens, and all he can do is stare in shock at Jungkook.

"Who told you?" he manages to ask.

Jungkook blinks blearily at him.

"Told me?" he repeats.

Yoongi’s entire body is heating up, that sweaty flush you get when you’re thoroughly embarrassed. His stomach cramps. He wants to throw up.

"Did Hobah tell you?" his voice strains. He didn’t think Hoseok would, but "Jimin?" he tries.

He’s never said anything to Jungkook for a reason, content to quietly love him and care for him, because he knows Jungkook isn’t interested in him. He’s never shown a hint of it, even if he’s been…different the past days, strangely shy about a simple meal or an offer to go shopping.

"You told me," Jungkook says with certainty, and Yoongi blanches. Jungkook looks away and strokes his chest absently. "Or, well. Kind of."

Did he? He can’t recall. He’s sure he’d remember a pent-up confession if he made one.

"You offered to—you offered to help build my nest," Jungkook shyly says.

Yoongi stares. He thinks back on that moment when Jungkook was bemoaning all the things he had to do soon, how little time he had to do it, and Yoongi just quietly listening as Jungkook mumbled to himself about grocery shopping.

"I can help," he had said. He remembers he had offered to do meal prep and to help build Jungkook’s nest.

Yoongi licks his lips. He remembers being a little taken aback at Jungkook’s reaction. The way he had looked at Yoongi, as if it was his first time seeing him. How he couldn’t stop looking at Yoongi that day, staring at him with intense curiosity, enough that it felt like he was boring a hole into Yoongi's face.

Yoongi remembers, suddenly, the way Jungkook's head whipped towards him in shock when Yoongi offered to help him build his nest. The way Jungkook had blushed and refused, not able to look Yoongi in the eye.

And the way he said nest earlier, like it was a dirty word.

That’s too much, Jungkook had stuttered, and Yoongi had thought—well. He thought it was just Jungkook being Jungkook. Their maknae, who didn’t want to be a bother, who didn’t ask for help if he felt like he could do it himself.

It starts to sink in then, how little he actually knows. The longer his silence, the more Jungkook's sweet, dazed smile fades.

Jungkook’s nose does a particular scrunch, and oh no. Yoongi knows that scrunch.

He’s about to cry.

"Oh, hey, hey," he immediately says, and Jungkook sniffles, sitting back on his legs.

His face crumples, and fuck, it makes Yoongi’s heart ache.

"You only want to fuck me," Jungkook abruptly accuses, wobbling and watery, dangerously near tears, and Yoongi gapes.

"What?" he sits up, and he grips Jungkook’s shoulders, because no. No!

"You just wanted to f-fuck me and leave me," Jungkook’s voice cracks.

"I didn’t even know we were going to have sex!" Yoongi desperately blurts out, and he flushes just saying it. It’s enough to quiet Jungkook, though.

"I do like you," Yoongi hurriedly clarifies before Jungkook can start crying again. He hasn’t seen Jungkook this—easy to trigger, so emotionally labile, not since he first met him.

It’s strange. He never thought he’d confess or say it out loud, always beat himself up over it. It always seemed like such a difficult thing to say. How do you even begin to confess to a long-time friend when there’s never been anything but friendship?

But now, it’s so easy.

"I like you a lot," he says softly, and Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles again.

Jungkook sniffs. "I know."

Yoongi has to resist telling him that he just accused Yoongi of the very opposite, actually. He wets his lips, and he finally drops his hands, rests them on the defined jut of Jungkook’s hips, and just the firmness of his hold is enough for Jungkook to melt.

"I let you into my nest," Jungkook says glumly, bowing his head. "What did you think we were going to do?"

He’s blinking furiously, like he’s trying to keep himself present. He’s swaying a little on Yoongi’s lap, and Yoongi has to hold him steady.

"I thought—" Yoongi presses his lips tight, hotly embarrassed. "I thought you were going to sleep."

"Sleep," Jungkook repeats the word like it’s not real. He says it like it’s his first time hearing it.

"With the blankets and the pillows and the sheets," Yoongi tries to explain. He waves vaguely at the sides he had reinforced, because Jungkook’s a messy sleeper and rolls around, and he didn’t want Jungkook to fall off his nest. The pillows are propped up high enough that he won’t hit the furniture.

Jungkook stares blankly at him.

"And the food, for when you wake up…." Yoongi trails off.

Jungkook still isn’t saying anything, his expression growing more and more flabbergasted.

"That time of the year?" Yoongi tries for the last time, and Jungkook bows his head.

Yoongi panics, thinks he’s about to cry for real this time, but Jungkook lets out a snort, and then a giggle, and then he buries his face in Yoongi’s shoulder and shrieks in laughter, loud enough that Yoongi kind of wants to die, actually.

He awkwardly pats Jungkook’s back instead as Jungkook laughs into him, his whole body shaking with his amusement.

Why, he thinks. Why.

How does he get into these situations?

"Hyung," Jungkook finally says when he’s done. His eyes are sparkling, and he reaches up to cup Yoongi’s cheeks between his hot hands—and fuck, he’s really burning up, what the hell.

"You’re so cute," he says, and he leans in to press their lips together. Yoongi sharply inhales, and his grip on Jungkook tightens in surprise, his eyes wide. In the darkness of their fort nest, he can still see Jungkook’s eyelashes, the pores on his skin, and Jungkook pecks his mouth, quick and repetitive, until Yoongi finally relaxes.

He closes his eyes and kisses him back, melting, his heart racing because fuck. He’s actually kissing Jungkook. He's clumsier than he wants to be, but he can’t focus on anything but the taste of Jungkook’s mouth, their breath, how Jungkook’s nose bumps against his, their bodies close, and Jungkook so, so hot against him.

Jungkook pulls away, and he grins widely as Yoongi tries to chase after his mouth. His glasses are steamed up.

"Silly hyung," he coos, and well.

An amused, happy Jungkook is much better than a crying one, even if he’s laughing at Yoongi.

Jungkook’s still cradling his cheeks, and he squeezes them until they puff up, grinning wider.

"I’m a wolf, not a bear," Jungkook giggles, his nose scrunching, eyes disappearing with his smile.

"I know that—" Yoongi flushes, and Jungkook kisses him again until Yoongi’s mind goes blank, and he’s helpless as Jungkook tips back into his nest, drops his weight until he falls, and Yoongi’s sprawled out clumsily on top of him this time. He slides his lips to Yoongi’s jaw, pressing hot kisses there that make Yoongi exhale. He shudders as Jungkook tugs at his ear with his sharp teeth. At the same time, he slings his legs around Yoongi’s waist.

"I don’t hibernate," Jungkook continues, and he giggles again. He licks under Yoongi’s ear and then bites, a brief press of sharp teeth that sends a zing of fire down Yoongi’s spine.

"I go into heat."

And oh.

That’s why—

Ah.

Sex.

Yoongi had—

"Did I proposition you?" he manages to ask, voice strangled, face burning, and Jungkook snickers.

Fuck. No wonder Jungkook had said no the first time when Yoongi had offered to—build his—his—his sex pit.

“You courted me," Jungkook corrects happily.

"And ah…" Yoongi wets his lips, tries to keep his head on straight while Jungkook licks and sucks over his neck. Their hips are pressed together, Jungkook’s legs around his waist. Yoongi can feel him, how hard he is, how Jungkook’s sweating so much that Yoongi’s pants are feeling strangely damp in the front.

"You—ah, accept my courting?" he phrases uncertainly, and Jungkook purrs. He pulls away, tilts his head back to rest against his plush sheets. He bares his neck at Yoongi, eyelashes dark and shadowing his eyes.

"I invited you here, didn’t I?" Jungkook says breathily.

Yoongi gulps.

"Why—why does everyone call it nesting season?" he asks, just a little nonsensically, and Jungkook huffs.

"It’s rude to say heat," he grumbles. "You can’t use that word in polite company."

Yoongi is clearly no longer polite company.

He’s finding it hard to look Jungkook in the eye, and so his gaze drops down instead to Jungkook’s exposed, sweaty neck. Jungkook squirms, and he makes a soft little sound, a sort of whine Yoongi’s never heard from him before. He tilts his head back further, insistent, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing.

"Hyung, please," he exhales. Yoongi leans down, and he kisses the tip of Jungkook’s chin, brushing his lips down Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook moans. This close, Yoongi can see a strange, small bulge under his neck, right at the space where his neck meets the curve of his shoulder.

He lifts his hand, rests it on Jungkook’s shoulder, and gives the bulge a curious stroke with his thumb. The strength of Jungkook’s moan shocks him, and his gaze flies up, his eyes wide at the dazed expression on Jungkook’s face, lips parted.

He presses his thumb in harder, deeper, and this time Jungkook keens, hips jerking, shuddering underneath him like Yoongi’s touched his cock.

Yoongi’s fascinated, and so, so, so fucking aroused.

"Hyung," Jungkook slurs. He wraps a hand around the back of Yoongi’s neck and tugs, hauling his face back in closer, guiding him wordlessly to his neck.

Yoongi kisses him first, just a gentle press of lips against the swollen, firm bulge, and then he opens his mouth and sucks, flicks his tongue, feels it move under his touch.

Jungkook keens. His nails dig into Yoongi’s shoulder, his legs tightening around Yoongi’s hips. He’s panting heavily, shaking finely.

The pass of his tongue coaxes out a light…wetness. It has a scent, mild to his nose but sweet, and Yoongi sucks harder, intrigued at how—strangely appealing it is. Jungkook whines.

"I stink," he stutters. "Everyone—other wolves says I smell too strong—"

“No," Yoongi mumbles, leaving the bulge with a wet pop of his lips. He shakes his head. The scent is faint, but—Yoongi likes it. “You smell so fucking good,” he says into Jungkook’s skin.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, and when Yoongi lifts his head to peek at him, Jungkook's face is bright red, looking up at the sheet over them like he can see the sky.

Yoongi laughs, low and just…so, so fond.

“Jungkook ah,” he coos. He’s learning new sides to Jungkook. He thought he knew him well, but…

“You just say things,” Jungkook blubbers. Yoongi smiles as he strokes Jungkook’s neck, thumbs the swollen bulge until Jungkook quivers, tilting his head further to expose it even more.

“You have to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re just—you’re so blunt,” Jungkook whines, covering his face. “You tell me you want to build my nest with me, you tell me I smell good, but you won’t touch me!”

“How do you want me to touch you?” Yoongi leans in, and he nips at that swollen part of Jungkook’s neck, curious, and Jungkook jolts like he’s been shocked, his whole body jerking underneath Yoongi.

"Hyung," his voice breaks. "Are you, ah, going to bite me?"

"Do you want me to?" Yoongi turns his head, breathes into his ear, and Jungkook shudders. He’s quiet for a second, his throat moving in a silent bob.

"Not yet," Jungkook exhales. "Not there."

He cups the back of Yoongi’s head, fingers entangling through his hair, and leads him farther from his neck, to the curve of his shoulder.

"Bite me here," Jungkook pleads, and Yoongi obediently latches his teeth against the muscle. He bites down, and Jungkook’s hips lift, moaning out. It echoes and reverbs, the fort they had made keeping the sound close, resting just over their skin.

A wet sound, and Yoongi’s lap is really damp now.

"You like that?" Yoongi checks, unlatching his teeth, and Jungkook nods, the bobs of his head quick and firm.

"Yes, now off—everything off, hurry," Jungkook whines. He doesn’t stop moving, restless underneath Yoongi, writhing underneath him almost like he’s in pain, his legs rubbing back and forth and his hands squeezing Yoongi. “I want you to touch me there."

Yoongi gets their clothes off as quickly as he can, sticking as close to Jungkook as physically possible. He’s never imagined that he’d be naked with Jungkook, that they’d be this close, this intimate. Just yesterday, he had thought he still didn’t have a chance.

Now, he’s pushing off Jungkook’s tank top, revealing his chest, his abs, his tight, little nipples. Skin soft and burning under his touch, slick with sweat, the muscles jumping as his hands pass through them.

Now, Jungkook’s ripping his shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the dark nest. No time for Yoongi to be self-conscious or wonder what Jungkook thinks of his softer stomach, his less-defined pecs, no room for any of that when Jungkook hauls him in to press them close together.

The heat doesn’t bother him, only heightens every sensation, makes the slide of sweat erotic and raw in a way Yoongi’s never felt before with anyone else. He feels like an animal, like his body’s discovering sensations for the first time in entirely new ways.

And Jungkook’s scent. It was light at first, but it’s quickly filling Yoongi’s brain. He feels affected on some base level, his heart ramming against his ribs, blinking faster, saliva pooling in his mouth. He’s never felt anything like this.

He gets his hands on Jungkook’s sweats and pulls them off, underwear included. Hasty, in a rush with how Jungkook’s urging him to go, hurry, please, but—

It’s wet.

Did they spill something? Is the air conditioner leaking? Yoongi’s thoughts don’t even make sense anymore, hardly lucid, but he doesn’t understand what’s happening. What he’s feeling on his fingertips, brain blank as his hands slow down.

"Hyungggggg," Jungkook whines in protest, and Yoongi’s mouth falls open, his lips parting. He looks down, confused and intrigued, his fingertips sliding against the back of Jungkook’s thigh, feeling the curve of his ass, the softness of his inner thighs.

He’s soaked.

Just a little sticky, but not quite. Not viscous, not really.

He pulls his hand away to look at what he’s feeling, squinting in the dark to try to figure it out.

Jungkook lightly kicks his thigh, and Yoongi grunts.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook complains, and Yoongi shakes off his stupor. He pulls away to take Jungkook’s bottoms all the way off, and Jungkook spreads his legs. Knees up, dropping to his sides. His hands are beside him, messing up the sheets that Yoongi had so carefully placed.

Jungkook's cock sticks up, and he’s dripping pre, clearly dribbling down his shaft from the pinkened head, but it doesn’t explain how he’s so wet all the way down to his ass.

"Touch me," Jungkook needily breathes, and Yoongi swallows.

He wraps a fist around Jungkook’s cock and gives him a stroke. Jungkook’s legs shake as he exhales, his head tilting back.

"Yes."

"You’re so beautiful," Yoongi mutters, and he tightens his grip, adjusts it, presses closer to Jungkook’s bare ass, still oddly slick, so he can grind his clothed cock against him even as he jacks Jungkook off.

"Oh—hyung—" Jungkook whines. He bucks into him. "Please. Wanna feel you, please."

"Touch yourself," Yoongi’s voice comes out rough, but Jungkook obeys. His hand goes in between his legs as Yoongi pulls away to take off his sweats, and Yoongi can’t take his eyes off him. He’s watching so intently that he sees that instead of grasping his cock, Jungkook bypasses it completely.

His fingers travel beneath his balls, pressing at his rim, and Yoongi’s breath hitches at the resulting wet, slick sound. He sets his pants and underwear aside, then reaches out and meets Jungkook. Their fingers hit each other, and Yoongi feels for himself how Jungkook is leaking from his ass.

"Did you, ah, prep yourself?" is all Yoongi can ask, and his gaze flicks up to Jungkook’s face as the younger scrunches his eyebrows.

"What are you talking about?" Jungkook groans, lifting his hips, needy, and Yoongi appeases him by slipping a finger inside.

"You’re so wet," Yoongi explains, but he’s riveted by the sight of Jungkook’s face shifting, the pleasure evident, the way his body moves with such eroticism at the sensation he’s feeling.

Jungkook covers his face and groans, his other hand twitching where he’s still rubbing around his flushed rim.

"You don’t—you don’t have to point it out," he reprimands, voice catching on a whimper as Yoongi presses his finger in deeper and curves it to rub against the burning, slick wall. It goes in so easily, the muscles parting, and it feels obscene to think, but it’s like Jungkook was made to take it.

Like, he can take even more and just accept what Yoongi gives him.

He feels overwhelmed—he didn’t think he’d ever be in Jungkook’s bed—or well, nest—like this, and now that he is, it’s nothing he had imagined. Jungkook’s so sweetly needy, desperate. Demanding.

"You’re embarrassing me," Jungkook whimpers through his hand, the flush of his face peeking through his fingers.

But still so, so cute.

"I just—" Yoongi presses his lips together and chooses to shut up instead of saying anything more, withdrawing his finger to press another one in, nudging past Jungkook’s hand. More wetness comes squirting out between his fingers, and Yoongi swallows, his cock throbbing where it’s curved up to his belly.

"It’s hyung’s fault," Jungkook bemoans, reaching up to sling his arm around Yoongi’s neck. With how pliant he’s been for Yoongi, he’s entirely unprepared for how fucking strong Jungkook still is. He goes off balance almost immediately, grunting as Jungkook hauls him in close, his arm squished in between them, fingers still inside.

"It’s your fault I’m so wet." Jungkook harshly bites his ear, and Yoongi stifles his groan. He pushes his fingers deeper in response, and Jungkook clenches wetly around him. "You built me a nice nest, and you told me you liked me. Of course I’m wet."

"I like you so much," Yoongi repeats, even if it’s embarrassing to say, and Jungkook whimpers this time, shaking around him, wetness dribbling out of his hole. He tilts his head to the side and lets Jungkook mouth at his neck under his ear, the muscle there, sharp teeth nipping at his shoulder, jolts of pleasure racing to his cock.

"Do you—do werewolves get wet like that?" He doesn’t even know how to phrase it correctly, can’t even think of how to properly ask it, given how consumed his brain is with Jungkook beneath him. With how close he is to Jungkook, he can’t help but rock his cock against the back of Jungkook’s thigh, seeking pressure and friction.

"What? Do you not watch werewolf porn?" Jungkook’s beginning to sound frustrated with him, even as he squirms and thrusts back against Yoongi’s fingers.

But, "I, uh, no," Yoongi awkwardly stutters, "just…human porn, I guess—"

"Don’t talk to me about porn while you’re fingering me!"

Yoongi very cleverly shuts up.

You know, even if Jungkook was the one to bring up porn in the first place.

"Fuck me already," Jungkook moans, kicking his legs.

He turns his head and slots their lips together, kisses Yoongi deep and dirty and full of tongue, licking at his teeth, and the top of his palate, and Yoongi’s never been kissed this messy, this desperate. He’s trying to keep up as much as he can.

"How do you want it?" Yoongi pants, drawing away, a thin line of saliva connecting their mouths before it breaks.

Jungkook pushes him off, and Yoongi reluctantly pulls away so Jungkook can turn over and get on his hands and knees. He’s moving quickly, too eagerly, and almost knocks his head on the closet blocking them in, thankfully cushioned by a pillow.

They need more soft barriers next time, Yoongi idly thinks, before he looks back just in time to see Jungkook position himself.

The side of his head rests on one of Yoongi’s sleep shorts, his eyes half-lidded, looking up at Yoongi, shoulders notched against the mattress, ass up, back curved. His knees are spread wide, his hands reaching behind him to grasp his asscheeks and spread them apart.

"Fuck," Yoongi breathes.

He wets his lip and thumbs the wet, reddened rim winking at him. His thumb sinks in, easy, like it’s nothing, and he can’t help but think the same thing he did earlier.

It’s like Jungkook’s fucking made to take it.

Jungkook whimpers.

"Fuck me," he whines in upset, bucking back. He’s sweating even more, his hair damp with it, dripping down his temple. There’s a sheen to his back even in the dark, and when Yoongi’s roaming hand passes his stomach and chest, it’s just as slick with hot sweat.

"Wait." Yoongi replaces Jungkook’s hands with his own, spreading his asscheeks wide, and Jungkook makes a sound like he’s about to protest again, but it shifts abruptly into a keen when Yoongi leans down and seals his mouth around the pucker.

"H-ah—haaaaahhhhh—" Jungkook’s toes curl, his free hands fisting the sheets beside his head.

Yoongi sucks, his eyes closing, kissing deep and licking past the forgiving rim. He’s never tasted anything like this.

It’s nothing like the artificial tang of lube, even the flavored versions. It doesn’t even taste like a cunt. It’s something entirely different, and he twists his tongue to coax more of that perplexing wetness out.

He swallows it down, feels it linger in his mouth and on his tongue. If he had thought Jungkook’s skin was warm, he’s even hotter inside. Burning up, feverish around his tongue and his fingers.

His cock drips down onto the nest, joining the wet spot he had previously made, and Yoongi has the vague, passing thought that if he knew he was apparently going to have copious sex with Jeon Jungkook, he would have thought to put a mattress protector underneath the sheets.

"I’m going to die," Jungkook slurs. "Fuck me, ‘yung, I’m gonna dieee—"

"Aish," Yoongi rips his mouth away. "I don’t—I didn’t bring a condom."

Jungkook makes a sound that almost has Yoongi believing that he is actually, genuinely dying, before he whips his head back and glares at Yoongi.

It’s not particularly intimidating, not when Yoongi finds Jeon Jungkook just so very cute in everything he does.

"There aren’t werewolf-human STDs." It comes out low, almost a growl, Jungkook baring his teeth, and there’s a small, very base, very human part of Yoongi that feels a twinge of fear.

He thinks he remembers reading something like that, actually. Which explains why Jungkook was just never sick or caught the flu, and the only time he slowed down was when he was injured, and even then, not for long.

"Unless I bite you during the full moon," Jungkook amends in the silence. "Then you’ll become a werewolf too."

"That’s good to know." It’s a very big exception. Yoongi holds his cock by the base, and Jungkook wiggles in anticipation, melting happily back into the sheets, his canines disappearing under his lips.

Yoongi presses the head of his cock against Jungkook’s slick rim and then pushes in. Slow, yet firm, careful even if Jungkook’s been taking everything he’s given so, so well. He finds out very quickly he doesn’t need to be.

His heart races, a low groan erupting out of him as he just…sinks right in. His cock parts the rim easily, and Jungkook swallows him up, clenching and drawing him in, squirts of slick squeezing out around Yoongi’s cock.

Jungkook feels like a furnace, so warm around his shaft that it’s borderline uncomfortable. Yoongi’s mouth drops, his eyes fluttering close as he shifts his hips, deeper, no need to even saw back and forth to ease in. Just straight in, all the way until his hips meet the jut of Jungkook’s ass.

Jungkook shudders and moans. He bows his head, exposing his neck.

"G-good," Jungkook gets out through a mouthful of drool, his teeth bared. "Hyuuuung."

"Fuck," Yoongi groans, and he pulls his hips back, wraps his hands around Jungkook’s waist. When he thrusts back in, he pulls Jungkook back, and their hips smack against each other, loud, the slap of skin obscene.

"Yes," Jungkook cries out, euphoric as Yoongi fucks into him, over and over, a steady rhythm building, grip tight on his hips. Jungkook's so wet it feels so sloppy, the sounds ringing, Yoongi’s whole body hot at them.

"You’re taking me so good, baby," Yoongi ducks his head, just watching the way Jungkook’s hole swallows him. Each time he drives his cock in, he sees wetness spill out, his pelvis damp now, and his glasses are beginning to slide down his nose. "Love how you feel, shit, Jungkook ah."

"Harder," Jungkook begs, muffled into the sheet, and Yoongi grits his teeth. He lifts a leg, places it solidly to give himself more leverage, and gets to work.

Like this, he can get so deep. It feels too fucking good already, too intense, and Yoongi pants, his stomach burning up with arousal and pleasure. It doesn’t help that it’s Jungkook.

He can’t stop looking at him, just admiring the way Jungkook’s muscles flex, the way his back gleams with sweat. The flawless, smooth skin of his neck, his skin so soft under Yoongi’s wandering hands, such a juxtaposition to the dark lines of his tattoos.

He finds Jungkook’s nipples underneath his body, his vision hazy, and the scent of Jungkook overwhelming. He's well aware that Jungkook is sensitive there, but he’s been wanting to get his hands on Jungkook’s nipples for ages now, and he’s not disappointed.

Jungkook lets out a noise at his touch, pressing into it even as he tries to wiggle away. Yoongi squeezes his pecs, draws them close before releasing them, his thumbs pressing into Jungkook’s nipples before he takes them between two fingers and pinches.

"Ah-h!" It’s musical, and Yoongi groans at Jungkook’s exclamation, at the way he squirms and pants and whines. He pulls even as he keeps shoving his cock into Jungkook, trying to distract himself from the building blocks of his orgasm, already creeping up on him. He can barely see anything with how dark it is, how fogged up his glasses are, and Yoongi pinches his eyes closed.

It’s—he feels like a teenager again, like this is the first time he’s had his dick in something hot and wet, and Yoongi grits his teeth, trying to hold it off, stave it away until Jungkook comes first.

Yoongi leans in, presses their bodies together until his chest meets Jungkook’s sweaty back, his cock going even deeper, and Jungkook makes a strangled sound underneath him, guttural and desperate.

He unlatches his jaw, and in the last second, checks to make sure he’s not aiming for that lump in Jungkook’s neck he had asked Yoongi to avoid.

Yoongi bites down, right at the back of Jungkook’s neck, and—

Jungkook screeches, an ungodly sound, his back arching even further as he just—collapses. His hands scrabble for purchase, choking, overwhelmed noises escaping him, and Yoongi grunts around his mouthful of skin and muscle as Jungkook tightens up, squeezes his cock painfully tight.

A sob, a jerk of his thighs, and fuck, Jungkook’s coming on his cock, his own completely untouched. He clenches around Yoongi, drawing him in deeper, drenching him and the nest underneath with his cum and his self-lubricating asshole.

Yoongi’s never seen Jungkook during the full moon, but this—Jungkook’s practically feral. He hurriedly gets his hand underneath him and grabs Jungkook’s jerking cock, letting Jungkook fuck it into his wet fist. Milks him through it, his hand wet and hot with Jungkook’s cum.

He’s loud, howling as his orgasm hits him hard, and Yoongi has to unlatch his teeth, hold him down with his remaining strength as Jungkook thrashes and flails in his grip, crying out even as he keeps thrusting his ass back into Yoongi’s cock. He’s so desperate for it it’s scary, but Yoongi fucks him through it anyway, his heart pounding and vision blurred.

"Ah—I can’t—" Yoongi grits his teeth and bows his head, groaning through the clench of his molars as his orgasm overwhelms him. It’s been forming for a while, but it still takes him by surprise, the thrust of his hips turning jerky as he spills inside Jungkook.

The heat of his cum, his groans—whatever it is, it has Jungkook keening, pressing back into him.

"Yes," he whines, "yes, yes, inside me, need it inside me."

Yoongi grunts. He can only thrust a few more times, two, three, before he feels his cock start to soften.

Jungkook’s ass spurts, slick and cum along with it, and Jungkook gasps.

"Wait—" Jungkook says, panicked, and Yoongi pulls out.

"I said wait!" Jungkook yells at him, his hand flying out behind him, and Yoongi hisses as he grips Yoongi’s hip hard. "Don’t pull out, no—please, hyung, don’t do that to me."

"I—" Yoongi tries to stay, but he’s only human. "I’m getting soft, I’m sorry—"

"Why?!" Jungkook sobs, and oh no. Those are full-on tears. "Do you hate me?"

"I just came," Yoongi attempts to explain, but Jungkook just gasps for air in between his cries, his eyes squeezing shut, and fuck. His traitorous, soft dick slides out of Jungkook’s ass, limp and wet.

"It’s leaking—I’m losing everything—hyung, please, fix it—"

Yoongi feels like he’s on the verge of panicking. His eyes are prickling. He’s never been good with Jungkook crying.

"Don’t let it leak, please—I need it inside, please, please—"

He shoves two of his fingers back into Jungkook’s ass, the squelch loud enough to overcome Jungkook’s pleading, and Jungkook gasps. He's momentarily shocked into silence.

"Hyung," he says, and Yoongi swallows.

Some of his come or Jungkook’s wetness, he isn’t sure, whatever it is, it’s still leaking around his fingers, and he doesn’t want Jungkook to notice. He doesn’t want Jungkook to start crying again.

He fits another finger in, three fingers now, but Jungkook’s ass is too welcoming, and the fit isn’t as snug as it should be to keep Yoongi’s cum inside where Jungkook wants it.

His eyes flick up towards Jungkook, the way his ass is still up, the dazed look in his still wet eyes, how he’s…calmer. Pliant. Like he hadn’t just been crying.

The jump from three to four fingers isn’t terribly much, and he gets to watch Jungkook’s expression shift, his lips parting, thick eyelashes fluttering as a soft, pleased moan escapes him. Jungkook’s hole accepts him, swallowing his fingers into wet heat.

It’s a tighter fit this time, almost there, but a single creamy drop trails down his palm.

"‘yeong," Jungkook slurs. He dopily smiles. He hasn’t noticed that he’s still leaking, just a bit now, but still. "That’s better."

Yoongi’s gaze drops back down to Jungkook’s hole, eyeing the way the rim stretches around four of his fingers. His fingers aren’t particularly small or thin, but Jungkook’s taking him with ease.

He could probably get his whole fist up inside Jungkook.

Yoongi shakes his head to himself. No. He shouldn’t.

"More," Jungkook whispers, his voice raw, and Yoongi’s eyes fly up to meet his. Jungkook licks his lips, little pink tongue darting out.

"That’s…That’s going to be my entire hand, Jungkook." It comes out rough, raked through.

"More," Jungkook repeats. It’s soft, but pleading.

Yoongi sucks in a steadying breath.

"Okay," he says. He’s never done this before. He’s seen one video, a really long time ago, where someone got fisted, but Yoongi had truthfully been a little scared at the sight of it. He wets his own lips and stares down at Jungkook’s stretched, fluttering rim, his heart skipping a beat.

Slowly, Yoongi presses his fingers in deeper, nudging his thumb to the edge of Jungkook’s hole. He pushes it in, and beneath him, Jungkook shakes. His legs quiver, his head bowing, but he doesn’t protest, only exhales and bears down, and—

Fuck.

That’s his entire hand in Jungkook’s ass.

Jungkook softly groans.

Yoongi curls his fingers, tucks in his thumb. It feels like a very warm, snug glove, pulsing around him, still wet, but Yoongi’s focus is almost entirely on Jungkook’s face.

There’s no discomfort, only a calm, settled pleasure. So different from his earlier desperation.

"It’s like you’re knotting me," Jungkook happily mumbles, and Yoongi can only jerk his head. Right. That’s exactly what he’s doing. With his hand.

He carefully sits back, unsure just how long Jungkook wants him to stay there, or how long Jungkook wants his cum inside. All the while, he can feel Jungkook occasionally clench around his wrist, his knuckles, and Yoongi can’t help but occasionally flex and relax and twist his fingers so they don’t grow numb.

He’s never been good at meditating; his ADHD is too active, but there’s plenty for him to look at now.

Jungkook is quiet. A peaceful bliss on his expression that Yoongi appreciates in silence.

He lets his other hand wander, stroking up the back of Jungkook’s thigh, his ass, up his smooth back. Just a repetitive route, down and up, around and around, Yoongi quietly cataloging the cartography of Jungkook’s body.

The sensation of touch is magnified in the dark, and it seems to soothe Jungkook even further, sending him deeper and deeper into a lax state of mind. His body starts to slump, relaxing into his nest, uncaring of the wet spot he made underneath him, and Yoongi carefully follows, lowering his arm so his fist doesn’t yank out.

Even Yoongi’s heart rate slows, the panic from Jungkook’s earlier tears easing. Miraculously, he had managed a satisfying solution.

When Jungkook looks like he’s dozing, Yoongi carefully inches towards where his discarded sweats are so he can fish out his phone and at least read articles on Naver while waiting.

At some point, he thinks Jungkook starts to snore.

Yoongi’s lip quirks.

He’s reading an article on volcanic rock when Jungkook stirs again, lifting his head where it’s buried in one of Yoongi’s shirts.

"Cuddle me," Jungkook mumbles, and Yoongi looks up. He immediately puts his phone away, the dark swallowing his vision as soon as it’s put to sleep. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust back.

"Is it okay if I pull out?"

"Mhmm," Jungkook bobs his head. "I’m hungry now."

"Do you want to cuddle or to eat?" Yoongi carefully, very carefully, eases his hand out. Jungkook’s hole grips him at first, squeezing his wrist, then his knuckles, before his hand just slips out.

Jungkook shudders. He squeezes fruitlessly, rim fluttering around air.

His hole gapes, and it’s dark enough that Yoongi can only just barely see the reddened insides, the way they’re streaked with slick and the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t know how he feels about it.

"I want you to cuddle me while I eat," Jungkook answers, because he always knows exactly what he wants. Jungkook's stomach rumbles, and Yoongi surreptitiously wipes his hand that was inside Jungkook on one of the pillows.

"I’ll get you something," he promises, and Jungkook bobs his head before he lies down again.

"Come back soon, please," he mumbles.

Yoongi puts on a random pair of shorts before slipping out from the gap they had made, and stumbles out of Jungkook’s dark room into the hallway. He makes his way to the kitchen, keeping his hand close to his chest.

He washes his hands in Jungkook’s kitchen and then quickly takes out one of the meals he had prepped for Jungkook just a few days ago. It’s quick work to heat it, and he brings it as soon as it’s done back into Jungkook’s room.

When he comes back, Jungkook immediately lifts his head and smiles.

"Feed me?" Jungkook hopefully pouts, and Yoongi nods. He’s not sure about eating in the nest, but he doesn’t need to ask. Jungkook crawls out to join him, sitting primly on his lap, and Yoongi rests his back against the cabinet.

"What did you think when I offered to help you with your nesting season?" Yoongi asks, lifting a piece of meat with a pair of chopsticks, and Jungkook nuzzles into his shoulder.

"I couldn’t believe it," Jungkook mumbles.

And he tells Yoongi exactly how he took it in between bites.

•··········•··········•

"I'll help you prep," Yoongi says, and Jungkook trips over his feet.

"Help me?" he repeats, his voice faint as he stumbles, and Yoongi turns his head, expression calm. Unbothered, even as he reaches out to steady Jungkook by the elbow. Granted, his hyung is almost always at a default calm, unless he's losing, or overexcited, or stuck with a frustrating game, or trying to match their energy for their sake, then Jungkook’s witnessed his moods.

But, still.

"Yeah," Yoongi offers, and the two of them continue to walk, out of sync but perfectly at pace with each other. People walk by them from the opposite direction, a mix of joggers, people walking their dogs, and even babies in strollers. "You keep mumbling to yourself about all the things you have to do, and…"

Jungkook flushes as Yoongi shrugs.

"I’m here," Yoongi continues, as if it’s nothing, then repeats, "I'll help you."

Jungkook’s flush deepens, and he wants to look away, but he can't. His eyes are wide, his lip pulled in between his teeth as he stares at Yoongi’s profile. Unbidden, his nostrils flare, but he can't get much out of his hyung’s scent, just what he ate for lunch earlier. His aftershave, and then his normal, human scent underneath it, were muted and difficult for Jungkook to understand compared to fellow wolves. It shifts with emotions, just like wolves, but differently and not as strongly. He can’t read his hyung’s intentions, what he means, or how he’s feeling.

"You want to help me?" he says, and his voice comes out a little breathier than normal.

Yoongi blinks twice. A biker passes by behind him.

"Yeah. How many days of meals do you need? I’m free the whole day tomorrow to prep some for you so you don’t starve." He already looks decided, frowning in the distance as he thinks through it. Yoongi rubs at his jaw and hums.

"O-oh, you don’t have to," Jungkook automatically demurs, part of it to be polite, the other part just…still in disbelief at what his hyung is offering. He licks his lips, looking him up and down, mind racing.

"It’s really no problem, Jungkook ah," Yoongi insists, shaking his head, and Jungkook covers his face, the wool rough against his burning cheeks. "What kind of food do you want? Something high in carbs, huh?"

"Anything is good." Jungkook scuffs his shoes. "I, ah, um. yeah. Whatever’s good."

"That samgyupsal I made last time, you liked it, right?"

Jungkook presses his face firmer into his mittens, his stomach clenching with emotion. He’s never felt like this around Yoongi, but Yoongi’s never offered to help him with his heat before.

"Yes," he whispers. "I um. I liked it. I’d like that."

He hears Yoongi huff in amusement, and he feels Yoongi’s fingers reaching out to absentmindedly tuck his hair back behind his ear.

"What are you being so shy about now? Like you didn’t ask for seconds last time."

Jungkook had just been talking to himself as he usually did, trying to list out and organize everything he needed to do before his heat came. He can feel the pre-heat inching closer by the day. The chills are all he needs to know, but his increased hunger for both food and touch just confirms it.

Jungkook didn’t think that Yoongi would offer to help him.

He hadn’t realized…never even considered…

"You know I’m good at putting things together," Yoongi continues, "so I can help you build your nest too."

"Hyung!" Jungkook squeaks, jumping in place as his head shoots up from where he’s buried it in his hands, his mouth agape. He really almost falls on his ass this time; it’s like all his limbs stop cooperating with him, his coordination shot to pieces with how taken aback he is.

Help you build your nest, help you build your nest, help you build your nest.

It’s echoing in his head. It’s ringing in his ears. Jungkook feels like he’s about to explode, and yet Yoongi’s eyebrows only raise, pausing in the middle of their stroll. A jogger overtakes the two of them in the middle of the path.

How—? He looks so calm. How can he look so calm with how forward he’s being?

Jungkook wants to collapse on the floor. He wants to roll around and bury himself in the grass beside the path. He wants to scream until the birds fly away like in the movies. He wants to—to—he stares at Yoongi, his face flushing—he doesn’t know what he wants to do with Min Yoongi! He doesn’t know what he wants to do with this hyung!

"That’s—ah—h-hyung, aish, that’s a lot, that’s too much—" he’s rambling, he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it—he’s never been propositioned like this in his whole life! And from Min Yoongi of all people!

"Oh," Yoongi says, and he’s waving his hands in front of him, backtracking, eyebrows crinkling as his lower lip jutts out. "That’s okay, hyung’s sorry."

Jungkook shuts his mouth. He fears he’s so red he looks like fresh kimchi.

"The offer stands. If you want me to help you build your nest, just let me know," Yoongi sincerely says, and Jungkook can’t muster up any more words. He just ducks his head and nods, fingers wringing together.

Yoongi reaches out and takes his hands, squeezing them in between his, and Jungkook’s breath hitches. He doesn’t look up, but his whole body perks, hyperaware of his hyung for the first time.

"I want to help you," Yoongi tells him kindly, and Jungkook’s head jerks in a nod. Yoongi lets go.

Jungkook's squirming inside, his heart racing. It’s so loud he thinks Yoongi must just be ignoring it, but even when Jungkook takes in deep breaths, he can’t bring the pace back down to normal. His resting heart rate is usually in the fifties. How is it betraying him now?

"Let’s go?" Yoongi asks, and Jungkook swallows. He’s having a crisis, and Yoongi’s acting as if he offered to—to just change his coffee filter or something, rather than build his nest.

"Okay," he says, his voice faint.

He walks a little behind Yoongi, and just…takes him in. The way he walks, almost a little waddle to it, his hands in his jacket pockets. How pale his skin is, with bits of pink from his cheeks and lips, how his glasses frame his features, and the way his dark hair falls around his face.

He’s never…Jungkook’s never seen Yoongi romantically, or considered him as a partner. He’s always been that older, reliable hyung. A good friend. Their relationship has always been platonic. Jungkook’s problem is that he likes people who like him.

For Yoongi to offer to help him during his pre-heat?

To offer to help build his nest?

Jungkook flushes.

He never knew Yoongi thought of him in that way.

Jungkook looks at Yoongi with new eyes and starts to reconsider.

He continues to reconsider their relationship, more and more as his heat nears, and more and more as Yoongi proves he’d be a good partner—a good mate—with every little thing he does.

He’s already starting to see Yoongi differently because of how forward he suddenly is, but his opinion of his hyung only improves as Jungkook’s fridge is stocked with food and water, as Yoongi helps him find a place for Bam, and as Yoongi takes him nest shopping. It shifts completely by the time Yoongi comes to deliver a whole duffel bag full of clothes that smell like him.

His omega accepts him wholeheartedly by the time Jungkook shyly invites him in to help build his nest.

•··········•··········•

"It’s like asking someone over for ramen or if they’d like to meet your cat, you know," Jungkook stops talking to yawn. His eyes look like they’re getting heavier, growing half-lidded as he tells his side of the story.

At some point in his story, they made their way back to the nest, lying down on the mattress without a giant wet spot.

"What? What does that mean?" Did it not mean ramen and meeting their cat?

Jungkook giggles. "Nooooo. You’re so old, do you not watch dramas?"

Yoongi doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s pouting.

"It’s—for omegas, it’s like saying—I’ll help you build your nest, for your heat, and then fuck you raw in it and take care of you—"

"Ah." Yoongi covers his face.

Jungkook’s laughter sounds like hiccups.

"I swear, I really thought you were just going to sleep…"

"I was going to masturbate. A lot. Like a lot, a lot."

Despite how Yoongi literally just had his entire fist up Jungkook, the thought of Jungkook masturbating still has his face burning.

"I knew it then," Jungkook says drowsily. His words are coming slower, and he exhales in between them, lingering and slow. "The moment...you came with your clothes for me.. and you didn’t…you didn’t act like it was... strange." His last word is punctuated with a yawn, his mouth opening wide.

That was only hours ago. So much has changed for Yoongi in that span of time.

"It is strange," Yoongi teases, and Jungkook sleepily slits his eyes open, just barely so. His eyebrows are furrowed, and Yoongi smiles, leaning in to kiss them. "Not in a bad way. A regular Jungkook way, that I love."

Jungkook giggles, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

"I knew then...you’d be a great mate." He turns onto his stomach, getting comfortable, his nose almost immediately finding Yoongi’s shoulder. He sniffs at Yoongi’s neck, little audible breaths, before he ducks his head and sticks his nose into Yoongi’s armpit. Yoongi twitches, his automatic reaction to draw away, but he relaxes into it instead.

Yoongi softly laughs. He takes off his glasses and carefully places it on a far corner of their little fort, where they won’t roll onto it. There’s a moment where he thinks Jungkook’s already fallen asleep, a short snore escaping him, before Jungkook startles, woken up by his own noise.

"And," Jungkook takes a pleased, sleepy inhale, yawning again, slurring now with sleep, "I knew... you’d be a… great sire."

Yoongi blinks.

Great…sire…?

He opens his mouth and closes it, taken aback by his confusion, before he turns his head.

"Sire?" Yoongi hoarsely asks, and Jungkook smiles, barely seen with how his face is half-buried in his bicep and armpit.

"Yeah," Jungkook smacks his lips, nuzzling closer into him. He kisses the hair on Yoongi’s armpit, an embarrassed tingle forming in Yoongi’s stomach before Jungkook slings a leg over Yoongi’s hip, their sweaty bodies pressed close together under the blanket, and slides a clumsy hand down to cup his belly. "You spent…you spent my heat with me."

He says it like it’s obvious.

"I hope…I hope hyung got me pregnant," Jungkook wistfully, sleepily continues, tone dripping with aegyo, and then—

Like, he didn’t just drop a bomb on Yoongi—

He lets out a loud snore and promptly falls asleep.

"Pregnant?" Yoongi repeats, late, and to an already sleeping partner. He looks up at the blurry sheet above him, blocking the ceiling, his eyes wide.

Shit. He really knows nothing about werewolves.