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Namjoon feels like a wrung out towel after a show. Squeezed until there is nothing left, his skeleton the only thing keeping him upright, ready to topple over any second. His muscles ache in that satisfying way after dancing for hours and he should order tea to his room because he can feel his throat starting to get scratchy, overused from all the yelling. He reminds himself to fish out the propolis spray from his suitcase Hoseok recommended him.
There’s water clinging to his torso as he tightens the towel around his waist and stretches, walking out of the steamy bathroom. He’s not prepared for Taehyung sitting on his bed, smelling alarmed. Namjoon imagines himself as that wrung out towel, getting soaked again and regaining shapeshifting abilities, moving again, because it’s not time to rest yet if one of his pack mates is here. This means something is wrong.
His brain does a quick scan of events. No injuries during the performance. They all seemed fine when they finished, if exhausted, but that’s normal. No one smelled particularly like anything except sweat, because they were still wearing scent blockers. Namjoon tried to look at all of their faces individually, how he always does, tried to see if he should be concerned, if there is a crack in the facade, if he should visit anyone’s hotel room tonight to check in. He found nothing. What did he miss?
“What’s going on?” he asks, already on edge, not wanting to waste more time.
Taehyung looks at him with so much pity in his eyes that it shocks Namjoon. “We have a situation.”
//
“Heat?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean he’s in heat?”
“Hyung, just—“
“Are you sure?”
“I think I can recognize the state pretty well.” Taehyung effectively shuts him up.
In his underwear and shorts now, Namjoon sits on his bed, head in hands. Million pictures run through his mind, some awful, some not so awful that he immediately feels guilty about and has to bite the inside of his cheek. The door opens. When he looks up, Yoongi is looking at the two of them, hair still wet from the shower.
“What happened?”
Taehyung sighs. “Jungkookie is… in heat.”
Namjoon swears he can physically feel Yoongi’s eyes on him. He keeps his own trained on the floor, the expensive carpet of a fancy hotel halfway across the world from their home. He thinks his hands are shaking a little.
It’s a few moments of silence, before Yoongi takes a deep breath. “Okay. His suppressants failed?”
“I think so, yeah.” Namjoon doesn’t need to look up to imagine Taehyung biting his lip.
“Remind me to talk to Doctor Kim when we get back.” Yoongi says because Yoongi is good and responsible and he’s thinking about so many things Namjoon should be thinking about, but he feels like his head in underwater and just parts of the world are coming through. “Who’s with him?”
“Jiminnie.”
“That’s good.” Yoongi clears his throat. “Namjoon-ah, you okay?”
He wants to scream. He wonders how soundproof these rooms actually are. But then that would scare them. Maybe not Yoongi, he’s seen Namjoon through his worst. Taehyung, probably. He doesn’t want to scare Taehyung. He doesn’t want to scare anyone.
“What are we gonna do?” he asks instead of answering, finally looking up at them. “Have you called manager hyung?”
“No.” Taehyung shakes his head. “Came straight to you.”
Among the mess, that’s a comforting thing to hear. Even after all these years, Taehyung’s first instinct is to run to Namjoon when something happens. He keeps waiting for the day that stops happening, when they see something in him he’s seen his whole life, when they realize he’s not the most reliable person, that he maybe doesn’t deserve all this trust and happiness they’ve thrown at him.
“I’ll take care of that.” Yoongi waves his hand and catches Namjoon’s eyes. “What are you gonna do?”
Namjoon’s stomach drops out of his body, through all the floors of this hotel, ending up at the cold pavement outside. “What?”
Yoongi and Taehyung exchange a look that speaks way too much. Namjoon doesn’t like that. He feels uneasy, like his skin is about to start peeling off, leave him bare, bones and flesh and all the ugliness inside just out in the open for them to see.
“First of all, calm down.” Yoongi squats in front of him, placing his hands on Namjoon’s knees. “It’s going to be okay. He’s safe, he’ll be fine. We’ll move the flight. We’ll see what we’ll do about the shows. Leave it to me. I’ll call Jin hyung. I’m asking you, what do you want to do?”
Namjoon knows what he means. He considers playing dumb, but every second wasted in this hotel room is a second Jungkook suffers. He swallows. “I don’t know.”
“Hyung.” Taehyung takes a seat next to him and carefully places a hand on his shoulder. “I think you do.”
“He’s in heat.”
“Exactly.”
“I can’t just—“ he bites his cheek again. “I don’t know. What are you suggesting, I just—we haven’t even—god, I hate this.”
He hides behind his hands, dragging them roughly over his face, trying to focus on any physical sensations that isn’t his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
“You can do whatever you want.” Yoongi says, like it’s that simple.
Namjoon scoffs. “I can’t though, can I? We wouldn’t be here if I could.”
They don’t talk about this, usually. With Yoongi, he hasn’t spoken about it in a few years. With Taehyung, ever. But it’s a known thing. Acknowledged but not discussed in the pack, that Jungkook has been in love with Namjoon since the beginning of time. That Namjoon fell right back, somewhere, somehow. Between Jungkook growing up and getting his tattoos and finding himself, becoming his own person, this beautiful human they all watched bloom under their guidance, Namjoon saw something more. It’s useless to deny it. It’s useless to indulge too, because nothing can be done about it.
Jungkook isn’t the only one who grew. They are so big right now Namjoon sometimes gets dizzy if he thinks about it so much. He hates the phrase on top of the world but it does feel like it and it suffocates him more often than it brings him genuine joy. This is a promise 7 of them gave years ago and Namjoon swears to himself every day he will not be the one to jeopardize what they spilled blood for countless times.
Yoongi is giving him that gentle smile that makes Namjoon want to curl up in a ball. Crawl back into his mother’s womb. It makes him feel like he’s too young for this, that he truly is a kid and forever will be, no matter what he accomplishes, no matter how much he does. Yoongi is his hyung and he’s Namjoon’s rock and in moments like these, Namjoon wants to hide away because his gaze is too knowing. Turns Namjoon’s skin useless, sees right through him.
“He’s struggling.” Yoongi tells him. “And so are you. And you know, heat or no heat, his answer would be the same. Has been the same. Don’t do anything because you feel like you have to, I’m just telling you that you can. If you want to. It’s going to be okay.”
No one can guarantee that. No one can guarantee Namjoon there won’t be a headline by tomorrow about him and Jungkook. They take precautions but they never truly know who’s working with them, who’s working in hotels they stay in, restaurants they eat at. There is no way for Namjoon to know, without a doubt, this will not come back to haunt him and ruin them.
“Hyung.” He’s surprised to hear his voice shaking. “I’m scared.”
Taehyung keeps stroking his back. Yoongi’s hands are still on his knees. “That’s okay. He’s scared too. I’m just telling you that I think you should go to him.”
Namjoon might be the group leader and pack alpha but he’d be nowhere without the support from all of them, especially his hyungs. They are his pillars and Namjoon’s always looked at them for guidance, for advice on how to proceed, what to do. Yoongi has never been wrong before and Namjoon desperately doesn’t want him to be wrong about this either.
He turns to look at Taehyung. “Did he say anything? Does he want me to come? I don’t want to—“
Taehyung laughs and covers his mouth, scrunching his nose cutely. “Namjoonie hyung. He doesn’t have to tell me anything. Trust me, you will not make a mistake if you go.”
//
“It’s me.” Namjoon announces as he lets himself in the room with Taehyung’s key.
Jungkook’s scent gets in his pores immediately. Under his skin, his fingernails, it lives where Namjoon’s hair grows out of his scalp every day, but right now it’s the strongest Namjoon’s ever experienced in his life. Overpowers Jimin’s scent completely, who he finds on the bed next to Jungkook, stroking his hair.
“Hyung.” Jimin smiles at him, like he was expecting him. Namjoon tries not to overthink that. “Hi.”
Jungkook is on his stomach, shirtless. Sheet pooled around his waist, covering just a part of his body. Namjoon can see his strong thighs flexing, his toes curling as he struggles through a wave of cramps. He’s covered in sweat already. He looks over his shoulder.
“Namjoonie hyung.”
That’s all he says. There is a tired smile on his face, Namjoon knows it well. One he wears when he’s exhausted or when something doesn’t go as planned but he’s laughing through the pain and disbelief that this could happen to them. He doesn’t seems scared. He doesn’t seem angry Namjoon is here.
Jimin presses a kiss on top of his head and stands up. Jungkook’s hand twitches to pull him back in, but he fists his pillow instead. Jimin looks at Namjoon as he comes to stand in front of him and there is that encouraging expression on his handsome face too, one that makes Namjoon blush so badly.
Then he gets on his tiptoes and wraps his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders, pulling him in for a tight, quick hug. “You’ll be okay. I love you.”
Namjoon feels too awkward and raw to answer that in a capacity he would like, so he just gives him a smile he knows Jimin will understand. And then they’re alone in the room.
“I’m sorry,” Is the first thing that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth as soon as the door closes. Namjoon’s heart squeezes in his chest and he drags himself to bed, sitting on the edge, leaning against the headboard. “I’m sorry, this sucks, I don’t know what happened, I took my suppressants, you know I did, you know I always do, they’re all up to date, I just—“
“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay.” Namjoon looks at his pretty, long hair. “It’s okay, don’t apologize. Not your fault. These things happen. Rarely, but they do. It’s okay.”
Jungkook scoffs, on his elbows now, clearly trying to find a comfortable position. Namjoon can’t really think about all the positions he’d like to put him in to ease his discomfort. “Still hate it.”
“Ahh, I know.”
Then they look at each other. Namjoon looks at his beautiful eyes, his Bambi eyes that haven’t changed since he came into Namjoon’s life. Full of stars and love and Namjoon’s harbor on stormy days. His path back home, that one thing keeping him afloat when it feels like the waves might just get him this time for good. Jungkook is looking at him and Namjoon is his hyung, his pack alpha, his leader. His forever role model, Jungkook said. He’s looking at Namjoon for guidance, he’s wondering what is he doing in his room. Why is he here.
“I came… I came to see if you’re okay. If there’s anything I can do.” He cringes at himself.
For a poet that’s made millions because of his lyrical abilities, he feels tongue tied in this moment, defenseless against the face of a boy. There are so many love songs about Jungkook he’s never shown anyone, not even Hoseok and Yoongi, that he believes will never see light of day. He wonders how many this night alone will birth and how tragic they will be.
Jungkook laughs, but it’s not unkind. He goes back to staring at his pillow. His body keeps trembling and twisting constantly, it’s clear he’s pushing through the pain. He’s always been good at it and Namjoon’s always hated that fact. Wanted to shield him from it.
“I, uh—I think I need you to be a little more specific, hyung.”
Right. Of course. Obviously. Namjoon can’t believe this is how this whole thing is going down. If you paid him money to guess over the years, this situation would not come to mind. He takes a deep breath and all it does is suck more of Jungkook’s scent into his lungs. Cookies and chocolate and that warmth you only feel when you’re finally home late at night after a long day and you can rest. You can lie your head down on a pillow and exhale. The comfort of your soft, childhood blanket enveloping you, the knowledge that you will be okay.
“Sorry, I’m bad at this and you deserve the best I can be, so I’ll try.” Which is probably intense and over the top but Namjoon is intense and over the top and Jungkook has always looked at him like he hung up the moon and all the stars, so.
It used to scare him. Still does. To be on the receiving end of so much admiration, so much trust that no matter how many times he falls, how wrong he does by him, Jungkook’s look doesn’t change. The strength of his hugs for Namjoon doesn’t lessen. He used to tell himself it was just hero worship, silly puppy crush at the beginning. But here they are, very far from their beginning and it’s still here. Showing no signs of weakening, somehow.
“You can say no. But I came here wanting to take care of you. Whatever that means for you. I am here for… whatever.” But that sounds like he’s doing this just for Jungkook’s sake, which isn’t true and he doesn’t want him to see it like that. “I am also… I want, whatever, as well. Not just for you. But for me as well.” Which somehow sounds even worse. “I mean, for both of us. I didn’t come here to—I just mean, I want to be here for you, but only if you want me to as well and I will leave if you don’t and I won’t be upset. And I will stop talking now so you can tell me your thoughts.”
His face is on fire. How is he still so clumsy? How is still tripping over himself? He’s sure of Jungkook’s love, his devotion is not questionable. Yet, Namjoon lives in fear of disappointing him, of making him think he made the wrong choice years ago in standing by his side.
“Aish, hyung.” Jungkook chuckles, in that adorable way only he does, even in this state. “You’re cute. We want the same thing. I just need to know if you… only want it for tonight.” He struggles through turning his head so their eyes meet. “Because I can’t do it then. I want to, but it would. It would kill me.” He laughs again, like it’s a light matter. “I’m all alone without you, Namjoonie hyung. I can’t bear the thought of it. So if you just want it now, I can’t, I’m sorry.”
There is a spear in Namjoon’s chest. He wants to squish Jungkook until he pops, wants to fill him with so much love that there isn’t a second in his life where he dares doubt it.
“You know that’s not it.” he swallows. “If that was the case, this would have happened long ago. I’m just scared. For all of us. I worry.”
“I worry too.” Jungkook presses his forehead against his pillow and takes a deep breath. Namjoon can’t believe they’re having this conversation while he can smell the slick leaking out of him. “We all worry, hyung.”
He half crawls to Namjoon, head next to his thigh. Namjoon strokes his hair and Jungkook nuzzles into it, eyelids falling shut, not in distress this time, but relaxation.
“Okay. We can worry tomorrow. Come here.”
Namjoon has in mind climbing on top of him, letting Jungkook sink into the bed, but he outruns him. Sits up and the sheet falls and he’s straddling Namjoon’s lap faster than Namjoon can comprehend it happening. His hands land on Jungkook’s waist and Jungkook’s find way to his shoulders. Namjoon is still shirtless, Jungkook’s room just a few away from his own and their hallway shut off for anyone.
“Like this.” He squirms on his lap. “We can—later, whatever, just—like this, please.” and then he stops, stills in Namjoon’s hold and looks at him. Blinks, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. Namjoon holds his breath. “Rapmon hyung.”
It shocks a laugh out of him. “Will you call me that forever?”
Jungkook smiles cutely. “I think so, yes. Will you kiss me?”
He wouldn’t be able to find words good enough for that even if he tried, so he doesn’t. He just nods and closes his eyes, feels Jungkook shift on top of him and heat pool in his stomach as their lips meet. Jungkook always talked about hearing bells when he meets his soulmate and Namjoon always found it cute, idealistically romantic, but there is ringing in his ears right now, so it’s not as funny anymore.
Jungkook’s lips are soft, the inside of his mouth might be Namjoon’s new favorite place. He wants to devour him, consume him completely, lick inside every part of his body until there isn’t a place he doesn’t know intimately. He brings him closer by the waist and Jungkook grinds down, restless, needy. So beautiful it’s unfair, it’s unreal he’s seeking out Namjoon when he could have the world at his feet.
Jungkook kisses well and Namjoon struggles to keep up with his pace. He can’t imagine how desperate he is, he’s been patient and good and waiting, all this time. But now that he’s found Namjoon is growing hard under him, Jungkook gasps against his teeth and rolls his clever little hips, wanting more.
He can’t help but groan, head thrown back, perfect invitation for Jungkook’s teeth. He thinks about reminding him of marks, but decides against it, decides to indulge whatever Jungkook wants, reward him with equal greed.
When he drags his nose under Jungkook’s ear, over his scent gland, Jungkook shudders and fists his hair, but doesn’t pull him back. “Alpha.” He whimpers and tries to get even closer. “Sorry, sorry, fuck, that’s—“
“Don’t be sorry.” Namjoon strokes his back. He still hasn’t looked down, hasn’t seen his whole body. “It’s okay, everything is okay. Whatever you want, Jungkook-ah.”
“Want you.” he grinds down, right over Namjoon’s clothed cock, nails digging into his shoulders. “Really want you to fuck me, hyung, can we, please? I hate it, it hurts and it’s awful and—just—“
Namjoon twitches, which is embarrassing, because Jungkook can definitely feel it. But he thinks he owes him some of the embarrassment, with how Jungkook is begging for him, naked on his lap. Namjoon imagined this differently, slow and taking his time after a proper first date maybe, someday. But he can’t pick and choose and if he gets Jungkook any way, he will take it. If they figure out how to pull this off without getting an aneurysm, he will get that date and soft and slow. For now, it’s not what Jungkook needs.
Namjoon drags his hand from his back over ribs, down to his stomach. Muscles fluttering under his touch, Jungkook’s breath coming out faster. Even more, down until he can feel his wetness, look and see the mess he’s made of Namjoon’s shorts. It’s obscene. It’s the hottest thing Namjoon’s seen. Jungkook all but humps his hand, unable to sit still, so Namjoon takes pity on him and doesn’t waste more time.
He’s so warm inside, waxes everywhere, smooth all over. So wet it drips down to Namjoon’s knuckles immediately as he scissors two fingers inside him.
“Already did that.” Jungkook pants, pawing at his shorts and managing to pull the waistband down along with his underwear. “Already—it’s good, hyung, it’s fine, I need this, please, come on—“
Namjoon nods, beyond words. His brain has shut down. He helps Jungkook take his cock out and hisses when he drags the tip over his folds, coating him in his slick. His hands squeeze Jungkook’s hips in a way that must be too painful, but he gets no complaints. Just Jungkook’s focused face, the way he gets when he wants to do something right, when he wants to learn or win something. He looks between them as he guides Namjoon into his body, a dream come true.
Namjoon keeps his eyes on Jungkook’s face, puts all of his strength in not bucking up his hips. Jungkook frowns halfway through it, breathing through his nose.
“You’re okay.” Namjoon noses under his jaw and gets his thumb on his clit, lightly rubbing. “You’re okay.”
“Mhm.” Jungkook nods, eyes closed, relaxing to let him in, sinking down. “Fuuuck. Thought of this so much, hyung.”
The confession hits him right in throat and he buries the sound threatening to come out of him in Jungkook’s neck. Then he’s sitting on top of him and Namjoon is inside him fully, Jungkook’s weight on his thighs and Namjoon’s hands all over, hungry, selfish.
“Hyung’s gonna make it better.” He promises. “Sorry I kept you waiting, I’ll make it better, yeah?”
“’S okay.” Jungkook shakes his head and runs his fingers through Namjoon’s hair. “Hyung, I love you, it’s okay.”
He says it so easily, like it’s not the biggest privilege granted to Namjoon in his already lucky life. Like it’s anything, like loving him forgives the years of not being together, of Namjoon being scared and keeping them both lonely.
Jungkook kisses him, maybe sensing Namjoon’s brain going into overdrive. He starts moving, up and down a little, rolling his hips, trying out different things. He clenches rhythmically around Namjoon and Namjoon thinks he should be granted an award for staying so still. He wants to let Jungkook set the pace, take care of him properly.
“Fuck, please.” Jungkook gasps, falls forward and Namjoon understands.
He’s never been more grateful for all those hours at the gym as he helps Jungkook move on top of him. Gets more comfortable on the bed and grabs his ass properly, dragging him up and down, moaning because of how tight he is, how perfect.
“Alpha.” Jungkook’s eyes roll back into his head and he smells so happy, so satisfied, Namjoon’s alpha preens with pride. “Fuck, so good, don’t stop.”
“I got you.” he promises. “Hyung’s got you, that’s it. You look so pretty, baby.”
Namjoon is not as liberal with his pet names as some of them so they hit way harder when he does use them, he knows this. He watches as Jungkook blushes and scrunches his nose and if he could, he would hide too. But he can’t, he’s all Namjoon’s to look at and take in.
“Prettiest boy in the world, can’t believe this.”
Jungkook kisses him, messy and barely there, interrupted with little whines Namjoon punches out of him. “Hyung, hyung, fuck me, fuck me so well, please, ah, that’s it, ‘s so good, so good, fuck me.”
He keeps babbling and Namjoon licks over his Adam’s apple, above his collarbone, half crazed with need to sink his teeth and mark him, mate him on the spot. But that would be insane. He can’t, not now at least. Maybe he will, one day. Maybe he will find a way.
“I’ll take care of you.” he groans, throbbing inside him. “I promise, we’ll find a way, hyung loves you, I love you, Jungkook. Baby, I love you too, you’re so good, thank you.” he feels a little like he could cry, he’s not sure. He’s so overstimulated, but he doesn’t mind it, not like this. Not when it’s Jungkook clouding his senses. “Thank you for waiting, for being mine, thank you.”
“Yeah. Shit, I know, it’s okay.” Jungkook holds his face, traces his eyebrows with his thumbs. “Hyung, it’s okay, I know. We’re good. I feel so good, you’re taking care of me so well, alpha.”
He knows what he’s doing, but Namjoon will allow it. It’s always been impossible to say no to Jungkook, it’s a law of nature. Namjoon doesn’t expect him to sneak a hand between them and start touching himself so quickly, but he is in heat, it must be hell on his body.
“That’s it, come on.” Namjoon encourages, fucking up into him, Jungkook’s fingers knocking against his cock as it slides in and out. “Cum for hyung, yeah? For alpha, cum for alpha, just like this, on my cock.”
He does, getting louder and louder, whinier by the second, squeezing so tight Namjoon hisses. Then he falls forward and Namjoon can feel his cunt pulsating around him. His knot starts forming. “More.” Jungkook begs. “More, Namjoonie hyung, more, shit, please.”
So he manages to touch him at an awkward angle, his hand between their bodies as Jungkook remains dead weight on top, grinding down a little, still needing it. It doesn’t take much effort to get another orgasm out of him and it’s delicious how responsive he is, how he’s clinging to Namjoon’s arms.
“Fuck, hyung, you’ll knot me, right?” Jungkook moves to look at him, like the possibility of a negative answer genuinely scares him.
“Shit, come here.”
Namjoon pulls out, maneuvers Jungkook’s body so he’s on his hands and knees, though he falls chest down immediately. He gets rid of his clothes so he can move properly. He’s so hard it hurts. His knot begging to be buried deep inside Jungkook’s perfect body, in his ready cunt, wet and waiting, where he belongs. Jungkook arches his back for him, presents, spreads his legs more as Namjoon holds himself by the base and slowly starts pushing back in.
They moan together, a beautiful harmony. Jungkook fists the sheets and Namjoon covers his hand with his own, holding his hip with the other.
“Mine.” He says, aware of it only when it leaves his mouth. He starts fucking him. “Mine, all mine. My boy, my omega, my Jungkookie.”
Jungkook is gasping for air as Namjoon picks up the pace, body getting jostled on the bed. “Yours, yours, I’m all yours. I’m all yours, hyung, please, knot me.”
“Fuck.”
“Knot me, please, wan’ it, need it—“
“Shit, baby—“
“Pleasepleaseplease, need it, need you, in me, come on, in me, knot me, knot me, knot me, ahhh, oh my god—“
Namjoon doesn’t know what kind of sound he makes as he bullies his knot inside Jungkook. He thinks he passes out for a second but when he comes to, he’s still relatively upright, not suffocating him. And he’s definitely filling him up. There’s a blissed out expression on Jungkook’s face.
“Fuck.”
Jungkook giggles and pulls him down. They twist around until they’re on their sides and Namjoon brings him closer, hand on his lower belly, nose buried in his neck.
“You’re—you’re staying, right?” Jungkook looks at him over his shoulder as best as he can. “You’re staying, this is happening? You’re with me?”
Namjoon kisses his nape and takes a deep breath, feeling his muscles relax. “Yeah, Jungkook-ah. I’m staying.”