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Only the best for you, baby.
Jimin fists himself, sliding his hand up and down his achingly hard cock rhythmically as the words that got him all worked up in the first place filter through his mind. The voice in his head croons gently, voice so low and gravelly the words almost seem to melt into each other. That voice. Deep. Lazy. So fucking sexy.
He pictures the owner of that voice dropping to his knees and wrapping his pretty pink lips around Jimin’s cock, sucking energetically. Jimin wonders if he’s ever given head. Is he even attracted to other alphas? Most aren’t. Is he gay? Or Bi? Curious? Jimin can work with ‘curious’.
Blinking hard, the alpha fists himself tighter, hissing at the pressure as he increases the speed, his warm candied orange scent taking on a more pungent note, thick and sweet. He’s so close. Just a bit more.
Baby
Baby
Baby
The alpha comes all over his hand and stomach, his shirt saved by his chin which holds the bunched material up and out of the way. He’s fully spent, a slight sheen of perspiration covering his skin. Thank fuck. That took a little longer than usual but it had to be done. His dealer will be here in twenty minutes and he’s always on time.
There’s a knock at the door just as Jimin slips on one of his best friend’s huge hoodies and a pair of sweatpants that could belong to any of his closest friends. He had showered faster than he ever has before and just in time. He can’t wait to just sit back, smoke and chill out tonight.
“One sec!” He shouts, swiping his lips with cherry chapstick before running his hands through his black hair.
“Yoongi-ssi! Hi!” He smiles with a small bow, internally cringing at the sound of his overly excited and slightly breathless voice.
The alpha smiles at him lazily, leaning his shoulder against the doorway. “What’d I say about calling me that, hmm, Jimin-ah?”
There’s just something about the look in Yoongi’s eyes that makes Jimin’s insides melt.
“H-Hyung,” he corrects himself, hating that he’s so affected he stutters in front of the gorgeous alpha. “Uh, I just got out of the shower.”
Yoongi raises an eyebrow and Jimin wonders what that means. It could mean anything from ‘shower, naked, I wanna fuck you’ to ‘what’s your point?’
“I need to grab my wallet, come in.”
Yoongi follows Jimin into the small apartment, remaining by the door with his boots on. The tears in his jeans are vast and show glimpses of pale skin, his skinny legs making Jimin’s mouth water. Shit. He’s down so bad for this guy.
Walking casually (or so he hopes) to his room, Jimin grabs his wallet and checks his hair again, stifling a groan when he spots the back of his hair sticking out at an odd angle.
“Fuck my life,” he mumbles, grabbing his wallet from his work pants. “How much did you say it was?”
Yoongi looks around, curious but non-chalant, hands in his pockets. “You know what? This one’s on me, Jimin-ah.”
With a confused frown, Jimin watches Yoongi retrieve a small brown paper bag from his cross body bag and hands it to him. It’s small but too heavy for his usual order, the top folded over twice and sealed with a little sticker of two cherries high fiving. Last time it was a tangerine. (Jimin may have saved every sticker slapped mindlessly on his deliveries, no one needs to know he’s the most sentimental alpha to ever exist.
“Hyung?” Jimin looks inside the bag, missing the way Yoongi smiles, pleased with how he’s being addressed. “This isn’t my usual.”
Yoongi’s eyes are everywhere but on Jimin, one hand lifting the ballcap off his head while the other hand runs through his blonde hair. Hot.
“Yeah, I uh, I grow my own shit and this is something new. Cleaner. Stronger.”
“Cleaner?” Jimin smirks. “What is this, organic weed?”
The huff of a laugh and shoulder shrug make Jimin want to drop his sweats and bend over, unheard of for an alpha. But he doesn’t care. There is a very primal part of Jimin that has his alpha yearning to submit to the alpha at his door in every way imaginable.
“I thought you might want to try it. There’s a bit of sweetness in it but not too much. Just enough to take the edge off the bitterness. I know you like sweets so…”
Jimin doesn’t know how or when he offered that information up to Yoongi and he doesn’t care. All he knows is that Yoongi remembered something random about him which sends butterflies going batshit crazy in his stomach. He clears his throat, forcing his brain not to start planning their wedding.
“That’s really…sweet.” Jimin smiles, his eyes disappearing and Yoongi’s cheeks flush pink.
“And it’s strong but it won’t knock you out,” the alpha adds quickly. “You have a pretty high tolerance but it should give you a nice buzz.”
Jimin smiles, biting his lip. Sweet. Stronger than usual. It’s like this batch was made specifically for him. It’s so romantic Jimin almost swoons.
Do you, alpha Park Jimin, take alpha Min Yoongi to be your lawfully wedded husband…
“Yeah. So uh, if it’s not your style it’s not a problem but I just figure maybe…”
Taking a step forward, Jimin places a hand on Yoongi’s arm, the blonde man startling at his sudden touch.
“Thank you, hyung. I’ll let you know what I think of it but I’m sure it’s great if you grew it.” Is that bold enough? Does it look like he’s throwing himself at him? Jimin sure hopes so.
“Yeah, sure. Uh…text me and let me know,” Yoongi says somewhat awkwardly, his own whipped meringue scent warming subtly. “Or call. Whatever you want.”
The alphas stare at each other for another moment or two before Jimin’s phone rings in his bedroom. From the ringtone, he knows it’s Hoseok. Motherfucker.
“Well, I should get going. Talk to you later, Jimin-ah.”
After Yoongi is gone and Jimin’s heart has slowed to a slightly more regulated pace, he grabs his phone and jacket, slipping out onto his small balcony, opening the bag Yoongi gave him. There’s a small dark jar of what he assumes is flower along with a handful of prerolls. He also spots two reddish pink lighters that remind him of his cherry chapstick. Which reminds him of the sticker. He removes it from the brown bag carefully, sticking it on the back of his phone case.
Music drifts from his phone as he texts Hoseok to come over. He taps on his Instagram app and types in the handle of a page he finds himself checking several times a week…or day.
Yoongi doesn’t post often, the last post being over a week ago, and unlike Jimin, the quiet alpha clearly isn’t going for any specific aesthetic. Yoongi’s posts are all pretty random. Stray cats on the street he must pass by, a sunset, a new pair of colorful Jordan’s. The most recent post is a picture of a broken pot on the hardwood floor with dirt scattered about, an adorable black cat poised in the middle of the mess. Tang, says the caption. Jimin hasn’t seen this cat before and wonders if Yoongi just adopted him. Jimin loves cats despite being allergic to them. But for Yoongi, he’ll take allergy meds every day if it means he can have a taste of him.
Just as he’s about to close the app, Jimin notices Yoongi posted a story maybe 30 minutes ago. Tapping on it like his life depends on it, Jimin smiles. It’s a still photo, zoomed in on a small cherry sticker. Jimin can see Yoongi’s boots below and the bottom of his own front door. Yoongi must’ve taken it right before he knocked.
“Fuck!” Jimin screeches, dropping his phone in horror. One glance at the screen shows that he did, in fact, heart the story. Grabbing a nearby pillow, he screams into it miserably. He’s such a loser! Yoongi is going to think he’s some kind of stalker.
But then his phone vibrates and the notification shows that he has a new follower. Who immediately likes his last photo. And then a couple more.
Jimin’s heart races as he grabs the paper bag he just received and quickly props his feet up on the railing and takes a picture of the bright cherry sticker, his socked feet and the night sky serving as his backdrop. Before he can change his mind, he posts it to his stories.
Within seconds, his phone vibrates again. Yoongi liked it.
He now screams into the pillow for a second time, both giddy and sick to his stomach. He is down so bad for his drug dealer.
🫦
“Ugh, take another one, you look cross eyed.”
“I do not!” Jimin pouts, analyzing the selfie he just snapped.
Hoseok grabs the phone from his small hands and takes a step back. “Okay, now try to look sexy.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jimin lifts the half smoked blunt in his fingers and raises it to his lips, taking a nice long drag. He looks up at the night sky, wondering just how pathetic he is, posing for pics he’ll post in hopes his drug dealer crush will like them.
Loser.
“Aaaaand done!” Hoseok smiles smugly, tossing Jimin his phone.
“Omg did you post it? I’ll kill you!”
“Nope.” Hoseok watches Jimin wilt in relief. “I texted it to Mr. Smoking’ Hot. Get it? Smoking?”
“First of all, you’re an idiot. Second of all, what the actual fuck, Hoseok?”
Jimin’s face flushes and his stomach begins to twist in knots as he checks his text messages. The first image is innocent enough, a cropped photo of him sitting on his balcony, smoking as he looks off in the distance.
The second photo though…Jimin is sprawled atop his chair, legs spread wide, head tilted all the way back as a steady streak of smoke trails upward from his plump puckered lips. His throat is on full display, glistening under the shine of the moonlight.
It looks like he’s getting head. Fuck. At least Hoseok didn’t write anything to Yoongi.
“You’ll be thanking me later,” Hoseok says, moving to the balcony door. “When his big, fat alpha cock is splitting you open. There’s nothing like it. Believe me.”
Hoseok leaves with a wink of his eye and Jimin groans to himself. Jimin has only ever been with omegas or betas but the second he opened his door to Yoongi last year, he knew he was a goner. The dealer’s sweet, creamy scent drives Jimin’s alpha fucking wild. It doesn’t matter his sub-gender, Jimin has wanted Yoongi since day one. Even more so after Hoseok, also an alpha, told him that same sub-gender sex is incredible. Since that fateful day so long ago, Jimin’s wanted nothing more than to sit on Yoongi’s cock and ride him until his knot stretches him.
Jimin:
[image]
[image]
Jimin:
I’m so sorry.
My former best friend sent those.
Sorry to bother you.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
I’m not sorry.
Not a bother.
Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.
Jimin:
Yeah! It def hits. And ur right about it being sweet.
My new fav.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Good.
Like I said, it’s a new strain and I want it to be perfect.
Jimin:
How new?
Am I the first to get it?
I feel special.
Was that too much? Why isn’t Yoongi responding?
Jimin waits impatiently as he stares at those annoying three dots that keep appearing and disappearing. He and Yoongi have never texted for this long before. Usually their chats are direct, to the point. How much weed Jimin wants. How much he owes. Time of delivery. They’ve known each other for over a year and yet barely know anything about each other that isn’t posted on social media. This is new, uncharted territory and Jimin’s stomach churns with delight and anxiety. Luckily, Hoseok is giving him privacy (for once) so Jimin can spiral in peace.
He finally puts his phone down assuming he won’t get a response but then it vibrates.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Yeah.
Jimin:
Sweet.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Hmm.
Those pics
Did you take them just now?
Jimin:
My former best friend did.
I swear I’m not that cringey.
Why??
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Just wondering.
I like your shirt.
His shirt? Jimin is literally wearing a well worn white t-shirt. Opening the picture again, Jimin turns beet red. Said shirt is hiked up a bit, his hand scratching his defined, toned stomach. Wait. Yoongi complimented a basic plain shirt. Probably zoomed in…Jimin blushes further. Does Yoongi like muscles? Thank God he worked out today.
“Jimin-ah!” Hoseok shouts from inside. “I’m ordering bulgogi and beer!”
“ ‘Kay!” He shouts back distractedly, his fingers typing away.
Jimin:Oh?
I just got back from working out.
I’m actually pretty gross, need to shower.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
You’re always showering when I see you.
Jimin:
I like being clean.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Good to know.
Hey, I gotta go.
Jimin:
Yeah of course. My bad.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
No!
I’m watching my nephew and he’s screaming his fucking head off.
Jimin:
Yikes.
I don’t do kids.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
I don’t typically either but...
Jimin:
Godspeed, hyung.
Hot ass Yoongi 🐈⬛ 🥵:
Goodnight, Jimin-ah.
🫦
Yoongi is posting more regularly on his Instagram account. Still seemingly random pictures of stray cats (one in particular shows an orange cat licking his outstretched hand, –Jimin almost melted), another sunset over the Han River, a window pane above a guitar perched against a wall while a rainstorm surges outside (Jimin frowns, hating all types of storms). All the usual posts you’d expect from anyone. He’s just a normal, typical guy.
Only not. Because when Jimin looks at Yoongi, he sees the sexiest man, regardless of subgender, he’s ever seen in his life. Yoongi has these sharp, feline eyes and the most beautiful precious pout (which he swears he doesn’t do). Jimin sees someone whose smile makes him lose his breath and with a mere brush of their fingers, goosebumps take over the younger alpha’s entire body. Don’t even get him started on Yoongi’s laugh or his forearms.
Stepping out of the shower, Jimin wraps a towel around his waist, towel drying his freshly cut black hair. His chest still hurts from working out earlier. His trainer, Jungkook, is relentless. Awesome guy but still tireless and has left Jimin gently massaging his chest and shoulders since working out that morning. Tonight might be a fitful sleep considering he sleeps on his chest.
The deep, savory flavor of kimchi-jjigae fills Jimin’s nostrils and he can hear it bubbling in the kitchen. Clutching the towel he jogs over to the stove, immediately turning the heat down and taking the tiniest of tastes. It’s missing something but he’s not sure what. Jimin may not be a dazzling chef but he can hold his own in the kitchen so the fact that he can’t figure out what the stew needs is beyond frustrating.
It’s not a big deal considering it's just him eating but it is a whole pot because Jimin clearly doesn’t know how to cook for one, and he doesn’t want to be left with sub-par kimchi-jjigae for the entire week. Granted, Hoseok did threaten to stop by to grab some stew to go so maybe he can help Jimin discover what’s missing.
Leaning his hip against the counter, Jimin unlocks his phone to google fixes for bland stew just as a knock sounds at his door. He can’t believe Hoseok actually made good on his threat and stopped by. His hyung hates cooking and mooches off of Jimin as often as possible.
Unlocking his front door, Jimin opens it an inch and then walks back to the kitchen, eyes glued to the phone screen.
“Come on in, hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “The jjigae is missing something but I can’t figure it out. Maybe you can–”
Jimin drops the ladle in his hand, freezing in place when he turns to find Yoongi, definitely not Hoseok, leaning against the doorway of his narrow kitchen, hands in his pockets. His signature smirk is missing. In its place is an expression of shock, his lips slightly parted and his eyes stuck on…
“Oh, shit! Um…” Jimin looks around for something to cover his half naked body. Why is he always such a mess around Yoongi? “I-I just got out of the–”
“Shower?” Yoongi finishes slowly, eyebrows raised as he clears his throat and slowly comes back to himself. His warm meringue scent sweetens, leaning more toward caramelized sugar. “Yeah…I figured. Do you, uh, always let just anyone in your apartment? I could’ve been an axe murderer.”
Considering Yoongi is acting nonchalant, or trying to at least, Jimin attempts to do the same.
“First of all, you’re not just anyone,” he rolls his eyes, pleased when Yoongi’s cheeks flush light pink. Jimin steps forward, feeling bold. “Second of all, are you an axe murderer?”
“N-no.” Yoongi is frozen again, eyes confused as to whether they should remain on Jimin’s face or his glistening torso.
“And are you going to hurt me?” He asks flirtatiously.
Yoongi shakes his head, his breathing quickening as Jimin gets closer and closer.
“Hmm.” Jimin tilts his head, staring in his hyung’s eyes thoughtfully. “Too bad. Sometimes a little pain is…fun.”
He has to stifle a giggle at how that light pink flush has deepened significantly on Yoongi’s face and he’s pretty sure the poor guy is choking on his saliva.
“I’ll be right back,” he all but purrs as he slips by, angling his body so his left shoulder and pec drag along Yoongi’s arm slowly.
Jimin quickly changes into sweatpants and a Rolling Stones tee. Still feeling giddy over the strong effect he had on Yoongi, he sits on his bed, tapping his thighs. Maybe he’ll be bad and let him wait out there for an extra minute or two. Maybe his scent will thicken even more. Sometimes, when Jimin is extra flirty, Yoongi’s scent will spike so suddenly it makes Jimin’s alpha scent drunk. Jimin giggles into his hand, flopping back onto the mattress as he tries to picture a very freaked out Yoongi.
Fuck!
“My kimchi-jjigae!” He all but screeches, bolting to the kitchen and practically knocking Yoongi right over.
The alpha stands at the counter in front of a cutting board, calmly chopping scallions. Setting the knife down, he scoops them into his palm and sprinkles it in the stew. Next he places perfectly cut cubes of tofu in, that float along the simmering surface until they absorb the broth and sink to the bottom of the deep pot.
“Are you wearing my apron?”
Yoongi glances down with a little pout. “Yeah, my shirt is white. I don’t want to get stained.”
“Oh?” Jimin cocks his head, hand on his hip as he gestures to Yoongi’s outfit. “And what grand ball are you and your exquisite garment off to after visiting my humble abode?”
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi returns to the pot, giving it a good stir. “Yah, Jimin-ah! So rude to your hyung and I’m just here fixing your jjigae.”
“Oh please—wait! You fixed it? No way!”
Jimin jumps on the counter wiggling in place as Yoongi lifts a spoonful for Jimin to try. He blows on the steaming sample before offering it to Jimin.
Even though it’s technically the perfect opportunity to obscenely wrap his lips around the spoon, it’s far too hot to even attempt. Besides, Jimin couldn’t focus on that anyway considering just how delicious the kimchi jjigae is.
“Oh my God. It’s perfect. What’d you do? Was it salt? It was salt wasn’t it? I knew it!”
Yoongi laughs with a modest shake of his head, adjusting the glittery pink apron covering the front of his body. He is clearly trying to play it cool but Jimin can see the tips of his ears turn pink.
“It’s no big deal,” he mutters, eyes trained on the bubbling pot. “It just needed a little more gochujang. And salt.”
“Salt! Ha!” Jimin shouts triumphantly before realizing he’s making no sense. “So…not to be rude or anything but…why did you come by? Not that you’re not welcome. I mean, you’re welcome any time. Well, obviously not when I'm not home. Not that I don't trust you!”
“Whoa, slow down.” Yoongi cracks a smile, placing the cutting board and knife in the sink. “I don’t really plan on swinging by if you’re not home. What would be the point?”
So why are you here?
Jimin can’t help but wonder why his drug dealer (yes, he whispers the words in his head, too) is at his apartment. He usually sees Yoongi every few weeks but it’s only been 8 days, but who’s counting?
“Oh, are you here because I texted you that my friends liked your new batch?” Jimin’s heart hammers in his chest. He had been so excited to share with his dumb pothead friends about the ‘new batch’ that was outta this world and made Jimin feel that way, too. Seokjin, in particular, who suffers from IBS was especially interested. In all Jimin’s excitement, did he give Yoongi the impression he wanted to place a huge order? Because he definitely can’t pay for it right now.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to waste your time, Yoongi-ssi, but I was going to get some later this month, maybe?”
Yoongi must be able to detect Jimin’s anxiety because he steps forward, placing a hand over Jimin’s folded hands on the counter where he taps away nervously. “That’s not why I’m here but that’s good to know. Unfortunately, I’m kinda limited on the new stuff but I can give them a good deal on the regular shit, if that works for them?”
Jimin frowns. It was the new batch that had everyone eager to get their own stash but even Yoongi’s regular weed is pretty phenomenal. He supposed he can share what’s left of his last purchase with Seokjin. Maybe he’ll just gift it to him. “Oh, okay. Yeah, that works. Let me know if you decide to grow more. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, I mean, you can get it!”
Jimin bites his lip. He wishes he could get ‘it’, ‘it’ being Yoongi’s di–
“I mean–” Clearing his throat, Yoongi tries again. “What I meant was that I have some set aside for…special customers. I guess.”
Jimin positively preens, smiling so wide that he can barely see, his plump cheeks puffing up. “Ohh, so I am special!”
Yoongi blushes again, removing and hanging the sparkly apron where he originally found it, eyes any and everywhere other than on Jimin. “You’re not not special, Jimin-ah. And don’t think I missed you addressing me so formally.”
“Sorry, hyung.” Jimin follows him back to the front door, knowing he must be wearing a shit-eating grin.
“So…what you’re saying is that I’m not not special and that you conveniently set aside some of your special fancy weed for little ole me?”
Yoongi laughs at the way Jimin bats his lashes prettily. “Well, yeah. Only the best for you, baby. I should probably get going. I think it has already started raining and I have my bike.”
Baby. Baby. Baby.
He said it again and, yes, Yoongi’s smirk lets Jimin know that the alpha knows exactly what he’s doing to him.
“Bike?” Is all he’s able to manage as Yoongi nods, hands in his pockets.
Jimin is internally going berserk, too many things flashing through his mind at once. Yoongi riding a motorcycle. A motorcycle! How is Jimin expected to respond to that like a normal human being? And after being called ‘baby’ again?
“Yeah, motorcycle. But I don’t have a jacket and driving in a storm isn’t exactly ideal.”
“Storm?” Jimin murmurs absently.
Baby.
“Hey, are you okay, Jimin-ah?”
The alpha startles back to reality, clearing his throat awkwardly. He tries to ignore how his scent becomes more bitter than sweet. “Yeah, yeah I heard about it. It’s supposed to rain all weekend. Hence all the kimchi-jjigae.”
“Ah, so that explains the huge pot.”
“Yeah.” Jimin smiles stiffly, hands in his pockets, unknowingly mirroring Yoongi’s stance. “I’m not exactly a fan of storms actually. I usually smoke til I'm ready to pass out and plug my ears.”
Yoongi frowns at the thought, the sugar in his scent toasting unexpectedly. “I can, uh, come back tomorrow. Check on you?”
The smile on Jimin’s face could brighten the darkest shadow and his alpha is suddenly ecstatic, the rain storm long forgotten. This is legit. Yoongi is into him. Officially. What a fucking relief. The not knowing is the stressful part. But this? Knowing Yoongi likes him back and being able to do something about it? Yeah, Jimin’s got that covered.
He’s about to nod when the boom of thundering practically shakes the apartment (at least Jimin thinks it might). He jumps with fright, a shriek catching in his throat, his hands flying up to clamp around his mouth should the sound escape.
Before Yoongi can react, gusts of harsh winds slamming against the window panes followed by an immediate downpour, drown out any attempt of conversation.
And then it strikes. Lightning. The bolt sounds as if it pierces the sky, tearing it open with the intent to destroy, to consume, to suck everything into its vortex.
The sound pierces through Jimin as if he were the sky itself and he screams into his hands, eyes squeezing shut. He is suddenly freezing and on fire all at once, his own body useless, not knowing how to reasonably handle a simple rainstorm. But it’s not a simple rainstorm. Not to Jimin.
Yoongi lunges forward, wrapping Jimin in his arms, slowly and carefully lowering them until they’re on the floor, Jimin practically in his lap. Another clash of lightning is enough to send Jimin lurching forward into Yoongi’s chest. But not before the bolt lights up the room and Yoongi can see the pure terror in the younger man’s eyes.
Small hands still clasped over his mouth as Jimin’s body shakes, Yoongi’s firm grasp somehow stops Jimin’s attack from escalating, though it doesn’t stop the shaking completely. It’s all rain and lightning and wind…Jimin’s mind swirling, overrun with fear. But strong arms are holding him together.
It takes a while, what feels like hours to Jimin, but the fog slowly lifts, the pounding rain settling a bit in his mind, his breaths are shallow and labored but at least they’re there. His limbs ache in a way they haven’t since he was a child and all he wants to do is sleep.
“Jimin-ah?”
Yoongi’s voice is soft, caressing Jimin’s ear with its deep timbre.
“Are you okay?”
Blinking groggily, Jimin nods, feebly trying to untangle himself from Yoongi’s hold. The alpha moves swiftly but carefully, hands never leaving Jimin’s arms as he helps him stand. Under any other circumstances, being able to touch Yoongi would be Jimin’s dream but not like this. Not like this.
He sways in place from side to side, still trying to get his bearings when he sags dejectedly against the blonde man who immediately scoops him up bridal style in his arms.
“Down…sorry.” Jimin slurs.
Yoongi moves swiftly to his bedroom, easing Jimin onto his bed just as another bolt of lightning slashes the night sky, Jimin whimpering into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin mumbles, fists pressed to his chest as he curls into a ball in his bed, making himself as small as possible.
“Shh,” Yoongi murmurs softly, brushing his hand through Jimin’s hair, scratching comfortingly at his scalp. Jimin sighs, eyes closed. “It’s okay, baby. Hyung is here. You’re safe, okay?”
Jimin nods the tiniest bit but it’s enough for Yoongi who stands to his feet. Jimin startles, panicked.
“Please don’t—”
“It’s okay. I’m just going to turn the stove off and make sure everything’s locked up.”
Jimin nods, eyes still closed, too spent to even lift his eyelids. Maybe he can just sleep this off like he usually does. And then it’ll all be over. The rain. The thunder and lightning. Humiliating himself in front of Yoongi. All of it.
Before he can berate himself further, Yoongi returns. His jacket and boots are off now and he moves noiselessly through the room, closing the door, shutting the curtains, pulling a blanket over Jimin before he slides onto the bed next to him.
“Is this okay?” He asks hesitantly, still leaning on his elbow, relief painting his face when Jimin nods. “Come here.”
Jimin lets himself be turned around and pulled into Yoongi’s side, his head resting on his shoulder.
“Just focus on breathing, okay? Breathe and rest, sweetheart. I won’t leave you alone.”
Jimin falls asleep curled into Yoongi’s chest, the man’s long, pale fingers combing through Jimin’s hair so…slowly…
Jimin’s eyes flutter closed and Yoongi…Yoongi spends longer than he intends just staring at the beautiful man he’s had a crush on since the first time he sold him weed. The pretty alpha in building 613 who likes sweet things and is even sweeter himself.
🫦
Keeping his eyes closed, Jimin remains where he is, on his side with his chest pressed to Yoongi’s. The man’s eyes are closed, face soft with sleep. The room is dark but Jimin can still make out Yoongi’s cat-like features. Sharp eyes, cute button nose, pouty lips. His skin is like porcelain, fine china that should be admired by all near and far. Physical perfection.
And then there was the storm. Yoongi could have left. He could have calmed Jimin enough, tucked him in and been on his way. Oh, no. He couldn’t have been on his way because of the storm. Is that the only reason he stayed? Because he rode his motorcycle and it wasn’t safe to ride home?
“Hajima.” Yoongi’s voice is so low, his chest rumbles against Jimin’s. “You’re overthinking.”
Jimin’s eyes widen. “How’d you—”
“You talk in your sleep.”
“Oh my God.” Jimin moves to sit up but Yoongi’s hold on him tightens, eyes still closed and voice raspy.
“Shh, sleep, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin pouts. “My pillow smells like burnt oranges.”
Yoongi switches their pillows with his eyes closed.
“But…” Jimin winces, not sure why he’s acting so whiny. “My blanket, too—ah!”
Jimin yelps as Yoongi tightens his hold around his torso, rolling them both until Jimin is on Yoongi’s other side. He then grabs Jimin’s switched pillow and slides it under the alpha’s head.
“Sleep.”
“How am I supposed to sleep when I said God knows what in my sleep?” Jimin hisses, trying to adjust his shirt which got twisted when they rolled over.
A small smile tugs at the corner of Yoongi’s pretty lips. “Nothing bad. You were scared. You didn’t want to be alone. Now come on, baby. Come back to bed.”
Come on, baby. Come back to bed.
Jimin reluctantly falls back into Yoongi’s side, allowing the alpha to sleepily pull him close and bury his nose in his hair.
After a moment’s silence, Jimin quietly speaks. “You stayed.”
Yoongi nods, nose brushing against Jimin’s tousled hair. “I couldn’t leave you like that.”
Jimin can’t stop the smile that stretches across his face and the warmth that spreads throughout his chest. He’s always thought Yoongi was hot and he constantly daydreams about having sex with him. But with Yoongi’s sweet words and sure embrace, Jimin wonders if maybe this could turn out to be more.
🫦
When he awakens a few hours later, soft golden light tinged tangerine filters through the crack where the curtains meet, bringing Jimin back to consciousness. Throwing his blanket off his body, the alpha sees that the bed is empty and before Jimin can stop himself, he darts out of his room. Yoongi left. Why is Jimin so devastated by that fact? Of course he left. Why would he stay when the storm was clearly over and—
The sound of utensils catches his attention and Jimin turns to his left where Yoongi stands in his kitchen, back in that sparkly pink apron Taehyung got him as a gag gift when Jimin finally moved out on his own.
“Morning.”
Jimin gulps. It should be illegal to be so fucking hot first thing in the morning.
“Wh-what’re you doing?” The alpha asks, coming up next to Yoongi.
The blonde smirks, holding up the utensil. “These are tongs and this,” he motions to the frying pan, “is pork belly. There’s even a rice cooker—”
“Shut up,” Jimin whines petulantly, covering his face. “This is so humiliating, hyung. You came for—I don’t even know why you came but you sure as hell didn’t sign up to take care of me while I basically have a panic attack and I can’t—”
Jimin doesn’t finish his sentence because mid-despair, Yoongi sets the spatula down, cradles Jimin’s face and kisses him tenderly. Though shocked, Jimin responds immediately, deepening the kiss almost instantly, his hands sliding up the alpha’s arms.
Yoongi laughs into the kiss but Jimin grabs onto his shirt and yanks him up against his front, impatient to feel more of him. The tongs hit the ground with a clatter, bumped by Yoongi’s minor stumble but neither alpha seems to notice.
They dive back in simultaneously, both of their alphas competing to dominate the other. And as much as he wants Yoongi all over him, Jimin can’t tamp down the feral animal within. He bites then sucks on Yoongi’s lower lip, licking into his mouth hungrily, eager for more.
And Yoongi is no better, his hands gripping Jimin’s narrow waist, raising the alpha’s shirt so he can trace the lines of Jimin’s ab muscles with his fingers. He lets Jimin continue his lead, but only in a way that lets the younger alpha know next time it’ll be Yoongi who takes the lead. Yoongi is so controlled. It’s hot. So hot that Jimin wants more.
Wedging his thigh between Yoongi’s legs, Jimin presses his body forward, their cocks rubbing against each other’s thighs and the friction is glorious. Jimin could do this all day, just kiss Yoongi and grind on him so he moans so pretty like he is right now right into Jimin’s mouth. The alpha swallows Yoongi’s gasps, dizzy and halfway drunk from how fucking perfectly Yoongi kisses him.
“Pork!”
“Huh?” Jimin goes back in for a kiss but his lips only meet Yoongi’s jaw as the alpha squeezes away from Jimin and runs to the stove.
“Shit.” Yoongi moves the pan, checking chunks of pork belly. Jimin couldn’t hate that stupid pork more even if he wanted to.
Jimin hangs his head between his arms, hands pressed to the wall, his mind trying to process the sudden loss of heat. Was the pork belly just an excuse to stop? Was Jimin too forward? Clearly he was forward but was it too much?
“Stop thinking so much and go get us bowls.”
Jimin nods obediently, opening his cabinets and retrieving dishes. He’s half hard and his heart is still racing wildly. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through breakfast but he does know one thing. He officially hates pork.
🫦
Breakfast is delicious, but also a bit awkward and only because neither alpha addresses the elephant in the room. The awkwardness slowly diminishes when they move to the couch to watch videos of kittens befriending the most unlikely animals. Jimin loves the gorilla with the kitten. Yoongi swears it’s ai. Jimin says the other alpha looks like a cat and that he’s allergic. Yoongi shakes his head.
“Aissh. And here I was thinking you were perfect. It’ll never work. I can't give up Tang.”
Jimin blushes at the implication that Yoongi has thought about them ‘working out.’ “I never said I don’t like cats. I love animals. I just take allergy meds.”
Yoongi leans his head back on the couch, eyes gazing over at Jimin. “Good to know. I rescind my previous statement then.”
Jimin’s heart races as he watches Yoongi watch him. Creamy meringue warms to gooey marshmallow as Yoongi’s eyes darken, making Jimin’s mouth water. Throwing all caution to the wind, the alpha partially lifts up, swinging his leg over Yoongi’s, and remains kneeling atop him.
“Is this okay, Yoongi hyung?” Jimin practically purrs, knowing full well that no sane man would push him away.
To his credit, Yoongi tries to say yes but he is quite literally speechless. His large hands wrap around Jimin’s lower hamstrings, pulling him forward as Yoongi’s hands take his hips, holding him in place. The alpha nuzzles his face into the soft fabric of the grey sweatpants, teeth tugging at the waistband.
“Baby, can I?”
“Fuck. Yeah,” Jimin breathes airily, helping Yoongi slide his huge sweatpants just below his ass.
The alpha gives him two quick pumps before leaning forward, kissing Jimin’s hip bone and then running his tongue along the underside of his cock until he reaches the head. The alpha takes Jimin into his mouth, tongue swirling around his length as his fingers dig into the plump flesh of Jimin’s ass, pulling him closer.
It’s unbelievable. Yoongi is unbelievable, making Jimin gasp, shake and whimper with what looks to be minimal effort. But his eyes are on Jimin’s the whole time, saliva gathering at the corners of his perfect mouth stretched wide around Jimin. It’s almost too much to handle and Jimin doesn’t know how he’s going to put off orgasming.
Then Yoongi takes him further, humming and swallowing, hands encouraging Jimin to fuck into his mouth. And he does, fingers fisting Yoongi’s fine blonde hair, Jimin pumps his hips, watching his dick slide in and out of that talented mouth. He can feel his impending orgasm building and wants more than anything to just paint Yoongi’s throat with his release.
Jimin rasps out Yoongi’s name.
“Yoongi hyung, I—fuck—”
The alpha silences him with a quick slap to the outside of Jimin’s thigh, not hard at all but sudden enough to distract him and Jimin comes. He comes hard and hot, eyes rolling back as Yoongi swallows his cum, tongue still massaging his pulsing cock to the point of over stimulation.
Sinking onto Yoongi's lap wearily, Jimin leans down, kissing him lazily. When the alpha sucks on his tongue, Jimin can taste himself and his wolf goes fucking crazy. His dick twitches between them and Yoongi raises an eyebrow suggestively.
“I want you…” Jimin bites his lip, “inside of me.”
Yoongi’s eyes go wide, full of surprise. One second he’s nodding and the next second he’s holding Jimin beneath his bare ass, carrying him to his bedroom.
No sooner than the alpha hits the mattress does Yoongi cover him completely with his body. He kisses Jimin’s bare hip, trails kisses down the alpha’s stomach and along his, once again, hard cock and then back up the other hip. All the while, he efficiently rids them both of their clothes.
“Anything I should know?” Yoongi asks as Jimin stretches to grab a condom and bottle of lube from his night table. “Any hard stops? Have you ever bottomed?”
Jimin shakes his head, so horny it hurts but also a bit nervous. His body wasn’t made to take an alpha. There isn’t a natural ability to stretch, to self-lubricate, to take a knot. But he wants it, wants to feel that stretch and he wants to feel it from Yoongi.
“No,” he admits. “But I want this. You. Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, hyung.”
Yoongi groans, throwing his head back with frustration as he opens the condom packet and slides it on himself as Jimin watches. “Please don’t say that. I’ve wanted to do this since the first time we met. It’s been so aggravating holding back from you, Jimin-ah.”
With a devious grin, Jimin fists Yoongi’s hair, pulling him down to meet his lips. “Then do it, hyung,” he challenges.
Jimin yelps as he is flipped over onto his stomach, remembering how something similar happened in the middle of the night. That was nice and all but this is so much better. He doesn’t have the opportunity to cry out or prepare himself when his cheeks are spread and something hot and wet, firm with the slightest give, drags across his hole. Yoongi is eating his ass. Min fucking Yoongi, with his perfect fucking tongue just blew him, swallowed, and is now eating him out.
Jimin sees stars. He has used dildos before but this is something wholly different. It feels as if bolts of electricity shoot through each limb, his spine, everywhere. The titillating sensation causes him to sputter incoherently into the mattress, his hands pulling at the sheets, trying to gain purchase even though the last thing he wants is to stop. No, Jimin wants more.
And Yoongi gives it to him. His knobby finger makes its way inside of Jimin, the glide smooth but slow, too slow but Jimin also knows the prep may take some time. He had joked before with Yoongi that a little pain is fun because, well, because it is. But he’s also not trying to land himself in the hospital with his asshole destroyed because he’s an impatient horny alpha.
The blonde alpha knows exactly what he’s doing, his tongue and finger working their magic. When he pulls back to insert another, lube drenched finger, turns his face slightly, biting down on the meat of Jimin’s ass. The younger man hisses but pushes his ass back up against Yoongi’s face, the older alpha chuckling to himself as he stretches Jimin wider, fingers moving in and out easily now. Jimin’s body goes rigid when Yoongi’s finger brushes that spot Jimin can never seem to get enough of when he plays with himself.
He’s swearing now, writhing on his bed begging Yoongi to fuck him.
“Please, hyung, please. Oh, fuck right there, hyung!” Jimin thinks he might come just like this and that’s exactly when Yoongi withdraws, leaving him cold, panting and empty. Before Jimin can even whine about it, he feels Yoongi’s cockhead prodding at his entrance.
Yoongi leans his forehead against Jimin’s, pressing slow kisses to his kiss-bitten lips.
“I got you, baby, okay?” He whispers, sliding his arm under and around Jimin’s waist which helps to tilt his hips just right.
The first thing Jimin notices is the burn. Hoseok has bottomed before so Jimin kind of knew what to expect but obviously describing a feeling and feeling a feeling are two totally different things. First there’s pressure and yes, it feels a bit odd. Even Jimin’s wolf seems a bit confused, not used to being so pliant, so open.
It takes longer than expected for Yoongi to actually work his way inside the younger alpha, taking extra care to pause every inch or so so Jimin could adjust. There is so much lube that it squelches when Yoongi pulls out slightly and moves back in again, still slow but not as slow as before and he eventually bottoms out.
“Are you okay, Jimin-ah?”
He notices how Yoongi grits his teeth, trying to force himself not to move and as much as Jimin wants him to, he also feels like he’s being split in half. Yoongi may not be tall, but he’s well-endowed, just like Jimin imagined. He breathes through his nostrils, trying to focus when suddenly Yoongi kisses him.
The kiss is both sweet and tender. Jimin loves the way his hyung’s tongue claims every crevice of his mouth. How the blonde hikes Jimin’s leg up over his hip, his large hand kneading at the meat of Jimin’s thigh. The slight angle change is enough to relieve some of the pain and Jimin nods.
Taking it slow, Yoongi begins moving in and out of the younger alpha, their kisses intensifying as his thrusts do. It feels even better than Jimin had hoped. It feels like when a band plays your favorite song at a concert. Or like how a flower bud feels as it blooms beneath the warmth of the sun.
“So full,” he mumbles into his mouth, making Yoongi swear.
“Jimin-ah.” Yoongi moans the name as he grinds himself into the alpha, eyes rolling back before he closes them, the effort of him trying to suppress how good he feels clearly one he’s failing at. “You feel so fucking good, Jimin-ah.”
“Yeah? Look at me, hyung. Look at me.”
The second Jimin feels Yoongi’s eyes on him, the moment immediately feels more intimate. His lips part, Yoongi’s name a mere whisper of Jimin’s breath as his body relaxes further beneath and around Yoongi.
The pleasure is now indescribable and Jimin knows that despite already climaxing, he’s going to come again.
“Does it feel good, hyung?” He asks, breath punching out with each thrust by the older alpha. “Do I feel good?”
“You want to know if you feel good?” Yoongi laughs with a shake of his head, burying his nose against Jimin’s scent gland, making his candied orange scent spike, mingling with Yoongi’s sweet meringue scent.
Yoongi begins moving faster, dropping open mouthed kisses all along Jimin’s neck and shoulder. He licks over the scent gland and Jimin almost comes untouched.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he groans against Jimin’s skin. “Ive never felt anyone like you. Tight, you’re so tight. Fuck—I could fuck you forever.”
“Then do it,” Jimin challenges him for the second time that morning.
And though he can’t technically do that forever, Yoongi does give Jimin the longest orgasm of his life. And Jimin clenches so tightly around Yoongi’s cock, the alpha can’t even pretend to be able to hold back his own climax. His scent bursts through the air, creamy, decadent, with a hint of candied orange peel filtering throughout.
Even with a condom, Jimin feels Yoongi pumping his cum into his body and that beyond full feeling spreads as Yoongi’s knot begins to form. He tries to pull out but Jimin locks his ankles behind Yoongi’s back, encouraging him to stay.
“Knot me…alpha.”
Yoongi freezes, the dark around his pupils burning crimson and a low rumble sounds from deep in his chest. Shoving himself into Jimin as deep as possible, Yoongi’s knot inflates until they’re locked together, Jimin keening from the impossible stretch and so glad Yoongi was beyond thorough earlier during his prep.
They lay in each other's arms for a few minutes just catching their breath until Yoongi turns them to a slightly more comfortable position, his hand massaging Jimin’s lower back.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“Okay. Sore. Full.”
Yoongi laughs fondly, his finger tracing the curves of Jimin’s face, so relaxed as he rests. So beautiful.
“It usually takes about twenty minutes before I can pull out.” He sees a blanket that was somehow pushed aside and pulls it over himself and Jimin.
Nose pressed up against Yoongi’s irresistible scent gland, Jimin barely slurs out, “don’t ever pull out. Full. So good.”
Yoongi chuckles to himself, kissing Jimin’s jaw before moving to kiss his lips softly. “Noted, baby.”
Jimin snuggles in closer, if that’s even possible and he may have dozed off for a few minutes. Or maybe longer because Yoongi is in the bathroom with the water running. Jimin realizes he’s been wiped mostly clean. As he sits up, his tailbone aches in a way it never has before and he can’t help but groan.
Yoongi pops his head in the room. He’s wearing a pair of Jimin’s basketball shorts.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he smiles wide.
Jimin blushes, which he finds utterly ridiculous.
Yoongi comes over and hands Jimin a cup of water and some meds. He waits until Jimin finishes the whole thing.
“I ran you a bath. I found some flowery epsom salt or something and thought that would help, too.”
“What?” Jimin stands and walks slowly behind Jimin, hand in hand. He’s not in real pain but he is uncomfortable and he has a feeling it’ll be worse later.
“Come on, I’ll help you in.” Yoongi ushers him into the bathroom and then the tub and as Jimin slowly lowers into the bath, he sighs, the relief almost immediate. The water is hot enough to forcefully relax his muscles but not hot enough to scald.
“Why are you doing this?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound rude, which he might because Yoongi is staring at him, confused.
“What? Aftercare?”
“Yeah.” Jimin looks down at his knees which are raised just above the water’s surface. “I’m not an omega.”
Yoongi huffs, leaning against the sink across from Jimin. “I don’t give aftercare because my partner is an omega. I give aftercare because why wouldn’t I help the person I just slept with? And as an alpha, you probably need the aftercare more than an omega so stop being difficult and let me take care of you, Park Jimin.”
Jimin bites back a smile. All this time he was so taken with how crazy hot Yoongi was that he never realized just how cute he is, too.
“I may not run them a bath per say, but, you know…warm wet towels, meds, food, water. I try to make sure they’re in a good headspace.”
“Even with your one night stands?”
Yoongi smirks. Stepping forward, he crouches down, bracing himself with the sides of the tub so Jimin is directly below him. The look Yoongi gives him makes Jimin’s insides burn. Smoldering, look straight into Jimin’s core.
“I don’t do one night stands.”
Jimin’s heart flutters and he knows he must look like a complete idiot smiling so big. Yoongi traces his finger along the curve of Jimin’s jaw and down his neck past his shoulder. Wordlessly, he leans over the bathtub’s edge, not caring if the water gets on him. He cups the back of Jimin’s neck and pulls him forward so his lips can latch onto the hollow area below Jimin’s clavicle, sucking the spot until a flush of pink colors the area. Jimin’s pleased when a moment later it begins to redden and he knows it’ll leave a mark. The idea of being marked in any way by Yoongi is thrilling.
“Hyung?”
“Hm?”
“Did you grow that last batch of weed for me?”
Yoongi nods against Jimin’s shoulder, breathing him in. “I wanted to try something new and you were always on my mind so…”
“That is so fucking romantic,” Jimin says sincerely, totally serious even though Yoongi laughs.
“I aim to please, baby.”
“And do you call me ‘baby’ because you know I like it?”
“That’s an understatement, baby. Every time I call you that you turn beet red and begin stuttering.” Standing to his feet, Yoongi moves back toward the doorway. “Now let me go change the sheets so I can start the laundry.”
Jimin shakes his head. He wonders if it's too soon to propose.
“Wait! One more question.”
“Nope. Why don’t you actually try relaxing? I heard it’s good for you.”
“Come on,” he whines, dragging the last word and stretching his arm out needily.
Yoongi takes the bait and his hand, leaning down to kiss him thoroughly. Before the alpha can stand back up, Jimin blurts out his question.
“Do you really have clients in the area or did you use that as an excuse to see me between ‘deliveries’? Come on, this is critical to my fragile alpha ego”
Yoongi barks a laugh. “I’m not answering that, you little brat.”
“Yoongi hyung!” Jimin huffs, slapping the water once and actually spraying it in his own face, making him sputter.
Yoongi finally stops, turning to face Jimin. “What do you want to know? You want to know if the first time I met you I knew I’d be wrecked over you? That maybe one time I bought flowers which I left at your neighbor’s door because I’m a chicken shit and panicked? Or maybe that I knew you liked stickers considering they’re all over your laptop case, phone case and water bottle so I always kept an eye out for stickers that reminded me of you? Pretending I did it for everyone and wondering if you’d connect the minuscule dots?”
Jimin gasps. “Hyung?”
Had Yoongi really felt like this since the beginning? Jimin remembered meeting Yoongi vividly. He was about to meet his friends to smoke before going out to some club Namjoon was crazy about. Jimin was shocked when he opened the door, not expecting someone so beautiful to arrive at his doorstep. With weed, no less.
He had given Yoongi his most dazzling smile but it faded as he watched Yoongi scan his outfit, the tightest leather pants on earth, a semi sheer top layered over a cropped vintage tee. Long silver earrings dangled from Jimin’s ears and he had even applied a slight smokey eye to his lids to make himself feel extra sexy. At the time, Jimin thought maybe Yoongi got the wrong impression of him somehow but now that he thinks about it, Yoongi’s eyes weren’t wide with judgment. Perhaps he felt exactly as Jimin had and unlike Jimin, whose default is talking too much, maybe Yoongi’s default is quite the opposite.
And Jimin remembers the flower incident. He remembers noticing them and pointing them out wistfully. Yoongi had stayed quiet, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All this time, Jimin envied his neighbor, a pretty girl a couple years older than him, when in reality those flowers were really meant for him to begin with.
His face blushes and his chest warms at the way Yoongi’s features become so fond as he gazes at Jimin.
“Is all that true, hyung?” He knows the answer but he wants to hear it, needs to hear it.
Yoongi leans down again, his lips caressing Jimin’s jaw until they meet the shell of his ear. The moment is thick with tension, Jimin leaning into Yoongi’s space pulled in by his scent. The older alpha opens his mouth, his breath warm and minty sends tingles down Jimin’s spine, and he whispers huskily…
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
🫦 🫦🫦