Chapter Text
“Jimin.”
“Mmm?”
“Jimin.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Jimin-ah.”
“Uh-huh, what’s up?”
Something bit his neck, hard, and Jimin flew upright with a yelp, almost headbutting Taehyung where he sat on Jimin’s lap.
“Tae, what the fuck,” Jimin groaned, falling back to the bed.
“You were taking a long time to wake up,” Taehyung said simply, and Jimin let out a quiet laugh and leaned up so he could sloppily kiss the sharp line of Taehyung’s jaw and inhale the almost alarmingly delicious scent that was getting stronger every day.
“Shake my shoulder or something, you animal,” he mumbled into Taehyung’s hot skin, and Taehyung wrapped his arms around Jimin’s neck and tilted his head back so Jimin could kiss down his throat.
“That’s boring,” Taehyung said, deep voice only a little breathy as one of his large hands moved to the back of Jimin’s head, pulling Jimin ever so slightly closer to that sensitive junction between Taehyung’s neck and shoulder. “And this woke you up much faster.”
Jimin couldn’t really contest that, so he just slipped his arms around Taehyung’s waist to hold him a little tighter, then hummed and dragged his tongue from the dip between Taehyung’s collarbones to the point of chin.
It never escalated beyond Taehyung warm and pliant on Jimin’s lap, content to sit still as Jimin layered kisses all over his neck and tugged the collar of his shirt away so he could carefully work a hickey into the skin below Taehyung’s collarbone, just where a shirt could barely cover it. It was sleepy and soft, unbearably hot in a way that Jimin didn’t feel any need to pursue further, and the words were so heavy on Jimin’s tongue he could hardly stand it.
“Why’d you wake me up?” Jimin said, more as effort to distract himself than because he actually needed an answer. “I thought we didn’t have anything to do until dinner at Seokjin-hyung’s and Namjoon-hyung’s.”
Taehyung immediately let out a groan of the decidedly unsexy variety and said, “I’ve got to do a video conference.”
“But doesn’t your leave officially start today?” Jimin said, pulling back enough that he could look at Taehyung’s despondent face. “I thought no one was supposed to contact you.”
Taehyung grimaced, looking both put-upon and a little guilty, and said, “Okay, yes, and that’s definitely the policy for other people, and I absolutely don’t tolerate interruption of leave for the other employees, but I maybe told Soojin that she could call if it was an emergency, and she sounded like she was going to cry, and I couldn’t just tell her no, especially because it’s not like anything’s, you know, actually started yet.”
He’d dropped his head just enough that he could peer up at Jimin fetchingly through his bangs despite how he towered over Jimin from his place on Jimin’s lap, and Jimin shot him a wry smile.
“You’re allowed to follow the rules you literally created for your own company,” Jimin said, and Taehyung groaned again, hunching forward so he could bury his face in Jimin’s shoulder. But it wasn’t like Taehyung needed Jimin to tell him that he was a chronic overworker who always wanted his employees to experience as little stress as possible, even if that was at his own expense, so Jimin just rested his chin on Taehyung’s head and rocked him back and forth, cooing a little teasingly, “Poor Taetae, always trying to fix everyone’s problems and bad decisions.”
“They make such bad decisions,” Taehyung agreed, muffled by Jimin’s shirt. “I wish more people would wake up in the morning and just choose not to be absolute idiots.”
Jimin could hear the pout in his voice before he pulled back so Jimin could see it on his face, and Jimin pouted back supportively.
“What do you need from me?” Jimin asked, and watched as Taehyung’s mouth curled up suggestively.
“What a question to ask, Jimin-ssi,” Taehyung murmured, letting his eyes drag up and down Jimin’s body. He slid his tongue out of his mouth, licking his lips so slowly it was an obvious tease, and just as Jimin was about to lean forward and catch that sly tongue between his own lips, Taehyung rolled off him, popped off the bed and onto his feet, and shot Jimin a blinding smile.
“But actually all I need is your laptop right now, because I didn’t bring mine.”
And Jimin had groaned and complained and thrown himself back against the bed with a dramatic wail, and Taehyung had laughed just like Jimin had known he would.
Jimin set Taehyung up in his kitchen, laptop and phone charger and orange juice and two pieces of toast with strawberry jam, and when Taehyung had assured him that he’d be fine alone for a bit, Jimin had showered, gotten dressed, nominally done his hair, and then peeked into the kitchen as he was pocketing his phone and wallet.
Taehyung was sitting at the counter with the video conference up on the laptop, a call with Soojin and another assistant running on the phone, and what Jimin was pretty sure was an email thread with two different lawyers and an entertainment company CEO. Jimin couldn’t hear much, just quiet murmurs from the laptop and phone, but he could hear the way everyone was saying Kim Taehyung-nim, as if Taehyung wasn’t sitting there with messy hair, thick nerd glasses, and Jimin’s t-shirt slipping down his shoulder enough to reveal the edge of the darkening hickey Jimin had just left on him.
Taehyung looked up and beamed when he noticed Jimin, and Jimin waved and blew him an overly-dramatic kiss, which Taehyung subtly caught out of the frame of his webcam, and then sneakily pressed directly on top of his hickey, making his touch look casual instead of pointed.
Jimin laughed off the resulting flash of heat, because if he let himself get turned on by every sexy thing Taehyung did, he’d never be able to go out in public again, and flashed Taehyung a peace sign before he left.
~
Jimin’s heat partner leave had also technically started that day, and, like the hypocrite he was, the first thing he did was go to the company building and check on all his classes. That ended up being a much quicker process than he’d thought it would be, because each time he stepped into a room, all of his lykan students shot him the same horrified look and variations of the demand, “What are you doing here?” and then aggressively shooed him out and insisted that his partner needed him much more than they did.
Sufficiently chagrined, Jimin retreated to HR to quadruple-check that his heat-partner leave had gone through and was unsurprised when the man in the office told him that it was probably the best paperwork they’d ever received—Taehyung, after all, had been the one who filled it all out. Jimin had just signed in the appropriate spots and given Taehyung hundreds of kisses as thanks, because Jimin hated paperwork.
He hesitated before going down to the small practice rooms, but when he texted Taehyung to ask if the conference was over, Taehyung just sent him back a crying face, so Jimin sent one back in sympathy, and went to dance off some of his tension.
He shuffled through Usher and Jay Park, Wonder Girls and Whitney Housten, alternating between freestyle and sections of choreography as he lost himself in the pure freedom of movement. He’d meant to keep it loose, relaxed, purely for the sake of soothing his own body and mind, but he got caught up in executing the moves perfectly, just like he always did, and it was only when the song changed unexpectedly that he realized he’d been drilling the same sequence for almost ten minutes, ignoring the music to focus on making his arms just that much tighter here, and his hips that much smoother there, and his footwork that much sharper right at the end.
But he’d been doing hip-hop, something he and Jungkook had choreographed just to challenge themselves, and it was hard to dance hip-hop to Frank Sinatra and Samara Joy, so Jimin just stood there grinning like an idiot and maybe liking it a little too much that Taehyung had taken up residence in every part of his life, even his dance playlists.
By the time Taehyung texted saying he was finished, Jimin was already on his way back, and when he opened his apartment door, it was to an armful of Taehyung declaring, “I missed you so much!”
And Jimin just laughed and replied, “I missed you, too,” because it was true.
They spent the rest of the time before dinner lounging around the apartment, drifting around with a pleasant sort of aimlessness. They watched part of a show on the TV in the living room, then part of another show on Jimin’s laptop in the bedroom. They turned on music while they made lunch, and Taehyung kept hip-checking Jimin any time Jimin turned away from him for more than a few seconds, so they barely got anything done until Jimin pinned Taehyung against the counter and kissed him boneless to the sound of Ella Fitzgerald crooning around them.
Taehyung was still hurting, pausing occasionally to grimace and curl into himself, but every time Jimin asked if he wanted to lie down with a heating pad, Taehyung shook his head and clung a little more tightly to Jimin. So Jimin made him more tea, gave him a half-dose of painkillers when Taehyung insisted he didn’t need the full dose, and returned every one of the affectionate touches Taehyung gave him.
Taehyung vacillated all day between being extra soft and sweet and almost comically cranky, either smiling so wide it felt like Jimin’s whole world had gotten bigger, or glaring at everything that wasn’t Jimin with his eyebrows drawn tight together and his lips pursed into a furious scowl that was honestly pretty intimidating, even accompanied by Taehyung’s still-undone hair and old, loose t-shirt. One moment all he’d want was to be cuddled on Jimin’s lap with Jimin’s fingers stroking against his forehead, and the next he’d be popping up and barking out that everything in Jimin’s apartment was wrong, snarling and pacing and glaring until Jimin had moved the couch so it was facing the kitchen, the loveseat so it was facing the hallway, and the kitchen table so it was jammed into the corner with all its chairs crowded around only one side. And then Taehyung would be sweet again, curled up against Jimin chest while he pushed his hands up Jimin’s shirt and ran the pads of his fingers up and down Jimin’s spine, over and over again.
When it was time to get ready, Taehyung asked Jimin to shower with him, and despite having already showered, Jimin agreed. Yet again, there was no escalation, just Taehyung humming and drawing shapes on Jimin shoulders with the shampoo, and Jimin trying to blow bubbles into Taehyung’s face just so he could see the way his nose scrunched.
They got dressed between kisses and playful, not-so-sneaky gropes, and when Taehyung pulled on one of Jimin’s shirts that was loose enough to show the edge of his hickey, Jimin wasn’t even surprised.
He was surprised, though, when Taehyung’s hand stopped him picking his own top, and instead passed him a deceptively simple brand-name t-shirt that had definitely come from Taehyung’s closet, not Jimin’s.
“But this is your shirt,” Jimin said.
“Yes,” Taehyung replied, and Jimin decided not to question it.
The moment the shirt settled over his torso and he saw the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face, Jimin laughed and crowed Taehyung against the door to steal another round of kisses.
“Possessive Taehyungie,” Jimin teased against his lips, and Taehyung responded by murmuring, “It was either this or bite you again.”
“I wouldn’t have been opposed,” Jimin murmured back, and then danced out of reach before Taehyung’s eyes could get any darker.
They took Taehyung’s car but Jimin drove, because Taehyung seemed a little spacey, staring out the window and drumming his fingers against the dashboard and his own chest and Jimin’s thigh while he hummed along to whatever was on the radio. He tried migrating across the center console three times, eyes fixed on Jimin’s face, and all three times Jimin had to gently remind him that he couldn’t drive with Taehyung in his lap.
“This honestly seems like a design flaw more people should be concerned about,” Taehyung said, after the third time, and he sounded so serious that Jimin had to fight to hold in a smile as they pulled onto the street Seokjin and Namjoon lived on. “What if there was nowhere else for me to sit?”
“I think at that point you get in a different car,” Jimin said, and Taehyung looked aghast and affronted and ready to argue, but by then Jimin was already parallel parking behind Yoongi’s car.
Hyejin opened the door, yet again to Seokjin bellowing, “Hyejin-ah, what did I tell you?” but that didn’t matter, because she and Taehyung were both already letting out identical shrieks of delight, and a moment later they were tearing through the apartment into her room, still screaming.
“I don’t know which one of them is worse,” Seokjin lamented from the kitchen, and Jimin bent down to line up Taehyung’s carelessly discarded shoes.
“At least when she wants to be picked up it’s easy,” Jimin called back, and Taehyung’s shout of, “I heard that, Jimin-ssi!” was echoed by a laugh and a younger, higher-pitched, “Yeah, Jimin-ssi!”
Jimin toed off his own shoes, tossing a “hello!” at Yoongi and Namjoon, who were sitting together on the couch, bent over something on Namjoon’s phone. They let out almost identical grunts of acknowledgement, but neither of them looked up, and Jimin openly laughed at them as he made his way to the kitchen. Hoseok passed him in the kitchen entryway, carrying a plate of watermelon out to the dining area, and instead of greeting him, he just shot him a knowing look at asked sweetly, “Is that Tae’s shirt?”
“Fuck off, hyung,” Jimin replied, quietly and just as sweetly, and Hoseok laughed.
Seokjin, from where he was stirring jjigae at the stove, took one look at him and scoffed, but it was the fond kind and not the judgmental kind, so Jimin ignored it and boosted himself up to sit on the counter like a kid.
“Is it a shirt swapping kind of day,” Seokjin asked, “or just a Tae marking his territory kind of day?”
Jimin wondered if there was a difference.
“Swap,” he said. “But I think I got the better deal—I’m pretty the shirt he’s in cost about as much as a pack of ramen.”
“It’s definitely not about the quality,” Hoseok said as he came back into the kitchen, falling effortlessly into the conversation like he always did. “I’m sure Tae-yah would be happy to wear your ratty clothes instead of his designer shit all day every day if he could.”
“Not all my clothes are ratty,” Jimin said, a little miffed, and Seokjin and Hoseok let out surprisingly similar cackles of laughter before Hoseok leaned against the counter next to him and stared at him with one of those appraising but supportive kind of looks on his face.
“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked, reaching out to ruffle Jimin’s hair, which Jimin accommodated with a dip of his head. “Any questions or concerns?”
“I think I’m feeling okay,” Jimin said honestly, kicking his feet and letting them gently thump against the cupboards below him. “I have probably a million questions, but I think that’s mostly just because it’s a new experience and I’m a little nervous.”
Both Hoseok and Seokjin nodded understandingly, and Seokjin reached out the same way Hoseok had to ruffle Jimin’s hair.
“Do you feel pretty prepared for everything?” Seokjin asked, and Jimin couldn’t help the slightly disbelieving laugh he let out.
“Hell, no,” he said, and Hoseok wordlessly raised a hand to give him a fist bump of solidarity.
“Honestly, that’s the only right answer,” Hoseok said. “I feel like all you can really do is trust that your partner knows what they need, and trust that if they picked you, you’re what they need.”
Jimin tried not to absolutely glow in response to that, but given that both Hoseok and Seokjin had endeared little smiles on their faces, he’d probably failed.
“I do have a question, though,” Jimin said, and only hesitated for a moment after Seokjin and Hoseok’s encouraging nods. “It’s about, um, nesting.”
They didn’t have time to do anything but share a strangely surprised glance before Hyejin was darting into the kitchen with wide eyes and blurting out, “Taetae-oppa’s sad and hugs aren’t making him better.”
Jimin was at the door to Hyejin’s bedroom before he even realized he’d moved, and he was pretty sure he heard Seokjin laughing somewhere behind him and telling Hyejin that Jimin would take care of it, but he was much more concerned with the sad lump of a man sitting on Hyejin’s bedroom floor.
“Hey, Tae,” Jimin said softly, and when Taehyung looked up, Jimin could see the shine of welling tears in his eyes.
“Hey, hey,” Jimin crooned, dropping immediately to his knees and wrapping Taehyung up in his arms, pulling at the other man’s limp body until he had Taehyung mostly on his lap. “Hey, baby, why are you sad?”
This close, Jimin could tell that Taehyung smelled subtly different, like wet leaves and stale baked goods, but the scent did something—Jimin could really only describe it as brightening—as soon as Taehyung was tucked into his arms.
Taehyung had his face buried in Jimin’s neck the moment he was secure on Jimin’s lap, and it was only after he’d taken a few deep breaths that he let out a quiet laugh and said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, stroking over one of his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Why were you sad?”
Taehyung laughed again, half amused and half embarrassed, and said, “I just missed you.”
Jimin felt his cheeks lifting in a smile and said, “You’ve been in here for, like, three minutes.”
Taehyung pinched his side, and Jimin yelped and tried to push Taehyung off, but Taehyung held on like a leech, and as a result, they both tipped over onto their sides, Taehyung’s face still tucked into Jimin’s neck, and Jimin’s arms still around Taehyung’s shoulders.
“I hate hormones,” Taehyung said, blowing a huge breath out onto Jimin’s skin and making him squirm. “They make me such a stupid mess.”
“Never stupid,” Jimin assured him, pushing Taehyung’s hair out of his face so he could see his eyes. “It’s a little cute.”
“You’re only saying that because I’m not sobbing because you got up to get a water bottle,” Taehyung said, but his lips were almost curving up into a smile, so Jimin just replied, “That’s why we’re putting all the water bottles in easy reach.”
The curve of Taehyung’s lips expanded to a full smile, and Jimin smiled helplessly back, and they were still there, lying on the floor and grinning at each other like idiots, when Yoongi popped his head in and said, “Namjoon says you shouldn’t fuck on his daughter’s floor.”
Jimin could barely hear Namjoon’s aggrieved call of, “Hyung, I did not say—!” over Taehyung’s quiet laughter. Taehyung refused to let go, which made standing a whole process, and the moment they were on their feet, Taehyung pulled Jimin’s head in so he could sniff his hair and then aggressively rub his own hands through it like he was trying to purge Seokjin’s and Hoseok’s touches. Which, Jimin belatedly realized, was probably precisely what he was trying to do. They wandered back into the kitchen with Taehyung wrapped around his back like a limpet, and all four of their hyungs smiled with varying levels of endearment, smugness, and lasciviousness, and Jimin ignored all of them.
At some point Jungkook had shown up, slipping in and quietly taking a seat, and if Jimin thought that he looked a little on edge he definitely wasn’t the only one, because he saw both Yoongi and Seokjin throwing concerned looks Jungkook’s way as they finished up with the food. But at that point Hyejin had convinced Namjoon to turn Mario Kart on, and Taehyung had dragged Jimin in front of the TV to play with them, and Jimin had been too busy falling over laughing at how efficiently Hyejin was slaughtering all of them to pay much attention to Jungkook’s atypical reservedness.
By the time Seokjin had brought out all the food, spread across the coffee table in the living in the most laid-back meal Jimin had had with the group of friends, Taehyung had detached himself from Jimin enough to drift from person to person, cuddling up under arms and against backs, rubbing his cheeks and hands and head against them and accepting the bites of food that they offered him. When Jimin asked Hoseok if Taehyung was scenting everyone, Hoseok had just nodded, and Jimin had watched fondly as Taehyung layered kisses all over Hyejin’s tiny cheeks, only to do the same to a dramatically and falsely protesting Yoongi only moments later. At some point Seokjin had noticed that Taehyung was a little more possessive than usual, and spent a good ten minutes goading everyone into getting close enough to touch Jimin, then laughing at how Taehyung would suddenly be right there, wedging himself between Jimin and whoever had dared come close enough to touch what was his.
As always, positions shifted and seats moved, and Jimin was laughing with Hoseok one moment, talking with Namjoon another, and then finding himself curled up between Hyejin and Taehyung, watching dolphin videos on Hyejin’s tablet. He couldn’t help but notice, though, that for the first time, Jungkook seemed to be avoiding him, never sharing a seat, never reaching out for the same banchan, never bumping into him in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. And it wasn’t just that—Jungkook shifted uncomfortably any time Taehyung plopped himself into someone’s lap and started nuzzling against their shoulders, frustration evident on his face, and any time Taehyung was near, Jungkook reached for him almost desperately. His face would relax as he took his own turn being cuddled by Taehyung, who would coo and pat his cheeks and stroke his arms and gently nudge Jungkook’s face away from his neck whenever it got too close, then Jungkook’s expression would fall again the moment Taehyung popped up to make another round. Jimin watched the way Jungkook’s hands clenched and unclenched in his lap every time Taehyung drifted away from him, and when he caught Yoongi’s eye across the room, he saw that Yoongi was watching just as carefully.
The moment Taehyung was distracted, engaged in some serious conversation with Jungkook in the corner of the room, Yoongi grabbed Jimin by the shirtsleeve and dragged him into the kitchen.
“Okay,” he whispered the moment they were through the doorway but still within eyesight of Taehyung should he need to suddenly check where Jimin was, as he’d been doing all evening, “I realize it’s a little late for this, but I think it's probably important for you to have a little bit more context for Taehyung, Jungkook, heats, and nesting.”
The switch from comfortable and happy to entirely overwhelmed was instantaneous, and Jimin felt himself lean back, like a few inches of distance could lessen the impact of that tidal wave of potential information.
“Damn, hyung,” Jimin said weakly. “You couldn’t let me ignore JK’s angst-fest and live my life in peace?”
Yoongi looked pained at that. “Look, I know he’s being kind of assholey about this, and while I don’t mean to, like, excuse his behavior or his total disregard for appropriate boundaries with Taehyung, I do feel like it might be helpful for you to understand part of why he’s being like—” He gestured back into the living room, where Jungkook had Taehyung practically pinned against the wall, and Jimin would have abandoned Yoongi in a heartbeat except that Taehyung looked up just in time to catch Jimin’s eyes and offer him a small smile that clearly communicated that he was fine, if a little annoyed.
Jimin let out a breath and turned his attention back to Yoongi.
“Fine,” he said. “Enlighten me.”
"Look,” Yoongi said, “alphas are weird about, like, providing and shit.” In an undertone, he added, “Honestly, that’s part of why I’m so much happier with Hoseok than I would ever be with an alpha."
Jimin folded his arms across his chest, an intentional move so that he looked just as receptive as he felt, which wasn’t very. "What do you mean?"
Yoongi’s lips pressed together tightly, but it seemed more like sympathy and less like frustration, so Jimin tried to relax his shoulders and give an encouraging nod, because as much as he didn’t really want to talk about this right now, it probably wouldn’t hurt.
It took Yoongi a minute of opening and then closing his mouth before he continued, as if he wasn’t quite sure that the words were going to be right. Eventually he settled on saying, "It's a big deal for alphas to take care of their pack.” He shot another look toward Taehyung and Jungkook, a perfect mix of both understanding and irritation on his face. “Their—their omega.” He continued before Jimin could protest, speaking faster than Jimin had maybe ever heard him speak as he said, “And even if they were never technically dating, the alpha part of Jungkook still thinks of Tae as his omega. In all the years they've known each other, Jungkook is the only person Taehyung has ever spent his heats with, but now Taehyung’s suddenly made plans with you, and I think Jungkook’s losing his shit over that and probably feels, on some level, like he’s failed in his duty as an alpha. Like he's failed to provide the comfort and safety and security and affection that an omega needs during heats.”
“And I think I get that, hyung—” Jimin said, but Yoongi cut him off.
“I don’t actually think that’s the problem, though.”
Jimin shut his mouth, mostly because Yoongi looked stressed, which was rare, and then felt his mouth drop back open when Yoongi confided, “The problem is that I don’t think Taehyung’s ever nested before.”
Jimin tried to think about that. Jimin realized he didn’t have enough context to even have thoughts about that. Jimin pictured, in his mind, how casually and constantly Taehyung had added to the nest currently taking up most of the floor space in his living room. Jimin said—
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Listen,” Yoongi said, stepping close and grabbing Jimin by the shoulders, speaking in a low, urgent voice. “Taehyung has never spent a heat with anyone else, and aside from his first heat he’s never spent a heat alone, which means that unless he was on suppressants, every single heat was spent with Jungkook, and I know for a fact that Taehyung has never nested with Jungkook. And not like he’s had a nest and not let Jungkook in it, because I do that all the time, I mean that as far as I know, Taehyung has never even built a nest.”
“What?” Jimin said again, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. And sure, he may not have been an expert in lykan behavior, definitely didn’t know the particulars of heat behavior in the same way Yoongi or Hoseok or Seokjin or even Namjoon did, but everyone knew that nests were a more vital part of heats than partners were.
“Look, I don’t know,” Yoongi said, running his own hands through his hair, “but that’s not normal, you know? I can’t even imagine not building a nest—I literally can’t imagine. And I know that we always talk about how indulgent Taehyung is with JK, how he’ll give him anything, but I think that maybe we’re all misunderstanding something, because Jungkook has definitely wanted to nest with Taehyung, and Taehyung has never—” He shrugged, a loose, jerky motion, and said, “I wondered if Taehyung wasn’t like that, if for some reason he just didn’t feel any need to build a nest, because he’s never nested during a heat and no one has ever even seen signs of a nest in his apartment, but your floor right now tells a very different story.” Yoongi deflated suddenly, like he'd used up all his words and all his energy, and finished with a quiet, “Now I’m desperately trying to figure out why Taehyung would be consciously stopping himself from nesting with his literal best friend for so many years.”
It took a while before Jimin could do anything but just stare at Yoongi. He was aware, vaguely, that he could hear Jungkook’s raised voice, but he was too busy in his own head to give it much attention.
“Yoongi-hyung,” he said eventually, settling on the one thing in his mind that he couldn’t shake, “Taehyung’s been on suppressants for almost a year.”
Yoongi nodded.
“Even though his doctor recommended against that,” Jimin added, because Taehyung had let slip how dangerous suppressants over an extended period of time could be more than once.
Yoongi nodded again.
“And Taehyung hadn’t—he and Jungkook hadn’t slept together for a while, like, a few months, before the first time he slept with me.”
Yoongi’s raised eyebrow indicated that that was probably news to him, but he still nodded to show he was following.
Jimin took a breath and strung together a whole slew of half-wondered thoughts to say, cautiously, “He told me that before this, he’d only suppressed occasionally. And he hasn’t said anything about it, exactly, but I think—I think it’s probably safe to assume that part of the reason for that is that something happened between him and Jungkook.” There wasn’t exactly a question there, but Jimin already had an answer from Yoongi’s face before the sudden, overwhelming scent of burnt spices and ashy flowers flooded the apartment and every head whipped toward the edge of the room where Jungkook still had Taehyung cornered.
Both Jimin and Yoongi ran the few steps back into the living room in time to hear Jungkook yell, “I don’t know why you’re getting so mad about this!” and Taehyung yell back, “I know you don’t, why the fu—”
Taehyung cut himself off, eyes darting to where Hyejin was frozen behind Namjoon’s legs, and Jimin watched him take a deep breath and try to push past Jungkook as he said, “It’s really pointless to talk about this, Kookie. I’ve been super vocal about my decisions.”
Jungkook didn’t let him go, catching Taehyung by the wrist and tugging him backward as he insisted, “It’s not like I’m offering to be your heat partner, Tae, I know you and Jimin are—”
Taehyung ripped his wrist out of Jungkook’s grip and snarled, “Because I don’t need a heat partner, Jungkook, because I have Jimin.”
Yoongi had a hand on Jimin’s arm. Jimin wondered, for a moment, if it was to hold Jimin back, but then he saw the warning looks Hoseok was shooting Yoongi and figured it was actually for Yoongi’s sake. Either way, he appreciated it. Seokjin had moved to Namjoon’s side, dropping a hand on Hyejin’s head as she peeked out from behind Namjoon’s legs, her tiny hand over her nose, and Jimin wondered how overwhelming the room must be to anyone who could smell more than just Taehyung.
“You’ve known him for like six months, Tae!” Jungkook snapped, and it was the first time he’d seen either Jungkook or Taehyung with their lips pulled back from their teeth like they were a second away from tearing into each other.
“Fuc—” Taehyung started, then cut himself off again with a ferocious shake of his head. He let out a snarl of a breath, then inhaled deeply and said, clearly trying to sound collected, “Don’t be so informal. Call me hyung.”
“Oh my god,” Jungkook said, blatantly rolling his eyes and ignoring the way that made everyone in the room bristle. “You’ve known him for like six months, hyung. Are you seriously going to nest in his living room?”
They’re weird about providing and shit, Yoongi had said, and Jimin was pretty sure he understood that as much as he possibly could, but also this was absolutely none of Jungkook’s business, and he opened his mouth to say so only to be beaten to the point.
Taehyung scoffed, a dismissive, aloof sound Jimin had definitely never heard him make, and said coldly, “I’ll nest wherever the hell I want, Jungkook-ssi, because I never have and never will need your permission.”
He turned away, clearly signaling that the conversation was over, but Jungkook reached out again, demanding desperately, “Then why can’t you just nest with me?”
“Because I told you I was in love with you!”
Silence.
The burning in the air subsided, replaced by that same sad, damp scent from earlier, and even though Taehyung had whipped back around to scream his words directly into Jungkook’s shocked face, no one needed to see his expression to know just how anguished he was.
“I told you I was in love with you,” Taehyung repeated into the silence, like once hadn’t been enough. “And you laughed.” His voice broke, his hands came up to his face, and for one second it looked like he was going to crumple.
But then his hands went to his hair, pushing it back from his face as he straightened, and he said again, voice calm and measured, “You laughed, and you said that I’d get over it.”
Jungkook didn’t seem to be aware of the tears slipping down his cheeks until Taehyung reached out with both hands and brushed his thumbs under Jungkook’s eyes.
“I did,” Taehyung said gently. “Jungkookie, I did.”
More and more tears came streaming down Jungkook’s face, but Taehyung was already taking a step back, already turning to the room with one hand twisted into his t-shirt above his stomach and the other lifting to press against his nose.
“I think I’m going to go home,” Taehyung said. He was quiet, like he’d run out of energy for anything louder, and his steps as he walked toward the door were a little shaky, but no one stopped him.
“Thank you for the food, hyungs,” Taehyung said politely, offering a half bow but not actually looking at anyone until his gaze fell on Hyejin, and his face softened. “Sorry for yelling, Hyejin-ah.”
“’s okay,” she mumbled, and Taehyung managed the barest sliver of a smile before he was toeing his shoes on and slipping out the door.
Namjoon bent to pick Hyejin up, whispering a quiet, “Maybe let’s go in your room for a minute, Hyejinnie,” and she wordlessly clung to him, leaving the others in silence until they heard the click of her bedroom door.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Jungkook burst out the same time Yoongi demanded, “Was he in heat?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Jungkook pleaded.
“Was he in heat?” Yoongi demanded again, and Jungkook buried his face in his hands.
“You fucking idiot!” Yoongi shouted, and Seokjin rushed forward to hold Yoongi back, and Jungkook was crying, and Yoongi was yelling, and Seokjin was trying to yell over him, and Jimin just stood there staring at everything and processing absolutely nothing until he felt warm hands on his face and Hoseok filled his vision.
“Hey,” Hoseok said, and Jimin latched onto the even, soothing tone of his voice like it was the only thing that made sense in the world. “Jimin-ah, I need you to listen to me.”
Jimin’s hands flew up to Hoseok’s wrists, holding on and grounding himself with the feel of warm skin and sharp bone, and Hoseok said, “Are you listening, Jimin-ah?”
Kind of dumbly, Jimin said, “Taehyung hates it when JK’s sad. He said it’s fucking devastating.”
Hoseok offered him a sweet, wry smile, and said, “Taehyung’s not wrong.” His hands tightened against Jimin’s face just enough to draw Jimin’s attention away from where Seokjin was trying to pry Jungkook’s hands away from his face while still holding Yoongi back. “But Jimin-ah, we can take care of JK. Right now, you need to go take care of Taehyungie.”
And that was probably the most sensible thing that had been said by anyone the entire night, so Jimin nodded, held still while Hoseok fetched the food Seokjin had packed for them in anticipation of Taehyung’s heat, accepted a gentle hug and Yoongi’s car keys from the older man, and then left without another word.
~
Out of habit, Jimin went to Taehyung’s apartment first, and it wasn’t until he was standing in front of the silent door that he realized it was probably pretty dumb to assume this was where Taehyung had been headed when his favorite pillow was on Jimin’s floor.
So Jimin drove home and thought about how that’s what Taehyung had called it too: home . Jimin parked, and carefully stacked all of Seokjin’s food in his arms. and then approached his own front door and found it unlocked like he’d thought it would be.
Taehyung, for the first time, was in the nest.
The nest was still mostly just a pile of blankets and pillows and clothes, but Taehyung had curled up on his side and burrowed into the center of it so that only his head was visible, cushioned on Tata and turned toward the door, like he’d been waiting for Jimin to come home.
“I made a nest on your floor,” Taehyung announced quietly as soon as Jimin shut the front door behind him.
“You did,” Jimin said.
“It probably sounds dumb for me to say, but I really I didn’t realize,” Taehyung told him, and Jimin let himself smile.
“I could tell.”
Taehyung inhaled a little shakily, and the mass of soft things on top of him shifted like he’d curled into himself a little tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Jimin asked, setting the food containers down and taking a few steps closer, careful to not touch the nest as he crouched down.
A few tears leaked out of Taehyung’s eyes, streaking across the bridge of his nose and out the corners of his eyes before dripping down to darken the plush red of the Tata pillow.
“I didn’t mean to take over your house,” Taehyung said quietly. “I’ve never nested before. I wasn’t sure if that was something you’d be open to. I—” He closed his eyes and turned his head to press his face into the Tata pillow. “Sorry,” He whispered. “I probably should have told you.”
Jimin wasn’t sure if he meant about the nesting, or about not realizing he was nesting, or about Jungkook. Jimin reached out, still careful not to disturb any part of the nest, and touched his fingertips to Taehyung’s hair.
“What should you have told me?”
Taehyung made a strangled sound, like a sob, or a sigh, or a whine, and Jimin pushed his fingers through the wild mess of curls until he could gently scratch his nails against Taehyung’s scalp. When Taehyung spoke, it was into the pillow, so muffled that Jimin could barely hear him.
“That I was in love with him.”
“Tae,” Jimin said softly, and then repeated it when Taehyung refused to look at him. “Tae. Hey, look at me for a second.”
Jimin tugged gently at Taehyung’s hair, trying to encourage him to show his face, and when Taehyung finally rolled his head enough for Jimin to see the shine of his eyes, he looked terrified.
“I think,” Jimin said, “that I already knew. And it’s okay.”
Taehyung stared, and Jimin watched as tears started pouring down his face like a waterfall.
“It’s okay,” Jimin said again, and Taehyung buried his face back in the Tata pillow and cried.
They stayed like that until Taehyung reluctantly rolled his head so his face was visible again, and Jimin couldn’t help the way his lips twitched in a smile as soon as he saw Taehyung, tear-blotchiness and all.
“This is probably going to be a pretty bad heat,” Taehyung confessed, worming one hand from where it was buried to clutch Jimin fingers against his burning palm. “’s why you’re not supposed to take suppressants like I’ve been doing.”
“It’s okay,” Jimin said, yet again, content for the moment to let Taehyung switch the subject. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”
Taehyung pulled Jimin’s hand down to his mouth to press a kiss against it. “Can you give me a minute to actually build my nest? If it stays a mess like this, I’ll cry the whole time.”
“Of course,” Jimin said, bringing Taehyung’s hand to his own mouth to return the kiss.
Jimin reluctantly detached from Taehyung and backed up enough that Taehyung could crawl out of his pile to sit cross-legged on the floor as he reached out for the closest blanket.
Jimin puttered around in the kitchen, checking that he had enough water bottles and electrolyte packets and protein bars, and making sure there were enough meals to keep them fed for at least a week, since Taehyung had admitted he wasn’t sure how long this heat would last. Jimin tried to keep quiet and unobtrusive, observing as Taehyung methodically folded blankets and arranged pillows and stuffed Jimin’s hoodies into the cracks, but he made sure to stay close in case Taehyung needed anything.
It took about an hour and a half before Taehyung sat back with a satisfied little grunt, during which time Jimin had really done nothing but make them both tea, reply with a thumbs-up to Hoseok’s text that Yoongi didn’t kill JK so we’re good! Have fun with Tae! and dare to disappear for a few seconds into the bedroom so he could grab them both pajama pants.
“What do you think?” Taehyung asked, and when Jimin looked at him, he was on his knees by the nest and waiting expectantly for Jimin’s answer.
“It looks great, Tae,” Jimin said, less because he thought it did and more because he knew you couldn’t insult an omega’s nest. Mostly it still just looked like a pile of blankets, though there was definitely a distinct shape to it now, with raised edges and a sunken-in center big enough for a couple grown men to curl up in.
Taehyung hummed in satisfaction, carefully tucking Tata under the edge of a blanket, and then looked back at Jimin with his tongue peeking out between his lips and asked, “Do you want to get in with me?”
Jimin set down his tea.
“You want me in your nest?” he asked. He could hear the vulnerability in his own voice, and he couldn't have given less of a damn, because he’d assumed that Taehyung wouldn’t allow him inside.
“Yeah,” Taehyung said, sounding worried. “Is that okay?”
Jimin answered by bending down and catching Taehyung by the chin so he could tip his face up and kiss him breathless.
“That’s perfect,” Jimin told a gasping Taehyung when he pulled away. “I’m honored, Tae-yah.”
A soft growl was the only warning he got before Taehyung tackled him into the nest, rolling him in among the blankets and pillows and clothes like he was just another feature that needed to be perfectly arranged, and Jimin laughed and helped Taehyung pull off his shirt and pants, then Jimin’s own shirt and pants, and then let himself be manhandled under a thick layer of blankets until they were curled up together in the center of the nest, mostly naked and pressed too tightly together and still kissing, kissing, kissing.
Despite how Jimin could definitely feel Taehyung's hard dick pressing into his hip, when Taehyung took over the kiss, he brought it down from wet and sucking to sweet and tender, chaste little pecks against the corners of lips and soft nuzzles into cheeks. Jimin followed his lead easily, content to tuck his fingers into the waistband of Taehyung’s underwear and keep his touches light instead of demanding.
Without the sparks of arousal to distract him, Jimin could appreciate how phenomenal the nest actually was, how wonderfully it smelled of Taehyung, and he tapped Taehyung’s shoulder to pull his attention away from where he was mouthing absently along Jimin’s collarbone.
“Tae,” he said seriously. “I’m going to be honest, I thought this would be really uncomfortable, but I could probably live in here.”
Taehyung beamed at him, wrapping all four limbs around Jimin’s body and squeezing him in the most enthusiastic and invasive hug Jimin had ever received.
“Thank you!” Taehyung said. “Thanks, I thought it would be nice!”
“The nicest,” Jimin confirmed, and then they were kissing again.
They stayed in the nest the rest of the night, curled up and gently touching each other, and Taehyung had murmured that being cuddled and kissed was probably all he was going to need for most of his heat. Jimin assured him that sounded like a dream, and Taehyung hummed and petted down Jimin’s arms and gave him endless little love bites all across his chest.
After Jimin had gotten up long enough to turn off the lights and not a moment longer, Taehyung whispered into the darkness, “I’m pretty unguarded during heat. I might say things.”
“What kind of things?” Jimin asked, mind immediately and unfortunately going to the unsubstantiated claims that all omegas, regardless of their ability to bear children, told their partners that they wanted to get pregnant during heat. “Things you don’t mean?”
“No,” Taehyung said, and the calmness in his voice made Jimin pause. “Things I really do mean.”
There was enough light to see the gleam of Taehyung’s unblinking eyes, and Jimin thought of what he’d yelled at Jungkook, and then of what he’d said to Jungkook before he left, and Jimin took a breath, leaned in until his forehead was pressed to Taehyung’s, and whispered back, “Then I guess I’ll just have to say things back.”
“I guess you will,” Taehyung said, and kissed him.