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The only warning that Hoseok gets is Yoongi offhandedly mentioning that he’s going off suppressants while tossing his pizza crusts Hoseok’s way after he’s done nibbling off all the cheese.
The jagged crust is already tearing it's way down his throat before he realizes what Yoongi said. When his brain does register the older man’s words, he immediately chokes.
“You what?”
It isn’t unheard of in the slightest. For alphas and omegas to take long term suppressants in order to stave off their biological cycles long enough to finish school, or establish a career or do whatever else they want to do when they aren’t slaves to themselves every three months or so.
“Doctor says I’ve been on them too long.” Yoongi half smiles, and tosses his hand over the back of the couch behind Hoseok. “Don’t worry.”
Hoseok isn’t worried. Yoongi is Yoongi. If it’s just them two in their house, he can forget about the alpha/beta division between them. He can’t smell Yoongi, his nose far too weak and betas don’t give off a scent at all so it’s almost like subgenders don’t exist.
Yoongi doesn’t even act like an alpha. He’s a little aloof but that’s just Yoongi and he’s never been that way to Hoseok. More like a grumpy cat, angered at being awoken than a prowling alpha. The only thing about him that tips anyone off that he’s an alpha is his general noncompliance with anything anyone tries to get him to do. Hoseok is honestly so surprised he even listened to his doctor in the first place.
As much as Hoseok doesn’t consider Yoongi an alpha, he’s only ever known him when he was taking those pills. When he was potentially drugged into being docile. Hoseok just doesn’t know what type of person he is when he’s unsuppressed.
He isn’t scared.
Quite the opposite.
Hoseok has literally been in love with Yoongi since the first time he saw the alpha. Yoongi was always like the cool older brother of his best friend, despite not being much older than Hoseok himself. When Namjoon finally introduced them after filling up their high school days with talking about Yoongi, Hoseok was sure that if he had a real scent, he’d be pulsing out pheromones. If he was an omega, he’d have soaked through his jeans.
All at the way the blonde alpha narrowed his eyes at him, like he just awoke and couldn’t be bothered at the moment. He’d languidly stretched a hand forward, engulfing the entirety of Hoseok’s hand to the wrist and he seemed to not notice the whimper the younger man gave at the sight.
And it’s been about three years since then. Three years of graduating high school together, and going to college and eventually moving in with each other when Namjoon bailed to go live with his mate.
So, maybe this will be a good thing. Suppressants aren’t meant to be taken forever. Apparently, they can have some killer side effects.
Hoseok should be grateful he’s a beta.
Er. Rather, he is grateful.
Yeah. Definitely.
Despite seeing Namjoon laid up every few weeks with migraines that bleed from one morning into the following Tuesdays, he can’t help but want. If Namjoon wanted to, he could toss his pills out and his omegan body would immediately kickstart him into a heat and he could get pregnant and start a family. Seokjin could, at any time, draw him close and nip at his neck. At the swollen gland exclusive to omegas and alphas. And claim him like Taehyung did to Jungkook.
And bond.
That’s probably what Hoseok envies most about omegas. Betas don’t mate. They kiss and date and fuck and get married but mating isn’t something they can physically do. They can be bit but it would be like biting into the fake skin silicone neck given to alphas in rut to help them knot. It isn’t real. They aren’t real.
Apparently, it’s euphoria. It feels like a constant warmth in your chest, or a cool, alpine swoosh as some people describe it. Everyone is different, unique to the relationship and your mate. It’s an intimacy so far outside of Hoseok’s reach, he craves it like no other.
It sounds like bliss.
He tosses that idea away quickly. He doubts being an omega is something in his cards.
He's not sculpted like Jungkook, with a sharp hourglass shape and bulging thighs that even he catches himself looking at sometimes. If only because how the fuck does someone walk around with those? Then he sees Namjoon walk into the room with his own pair hidden beneath sweatpants and Hoseok figures it’s an omega thing.
Despite being uncharacteristically big for an omega, Namjoon still resembles one in other ways. His soft, dimpled cheeks are innocent and his edges are soft; pliant in a way only omegas can be with his rounded chest that will one day drip with milk.
Hoseok isn’t like that, really at all. He’s lithe, dancer muscles thin and he doesn’t have much curves to speak of. He’s got long legs but he flails too much to use them much for elegance. There’s a certain image you have to have to be an omega, in his opinion, and he doesn't have it.
Then again, Jungkook could snap Taehyung in half but he’s very much an omega if his clockwork heats are anything to go by so maybe it's more in how you act.
He’d take being an alpha too!
Sometimes he growls when he’s annoyed just to feel if the rumbling in his chest is natural or not. It never is. It feels so forced that he looks around just to make sure nobody caught him doing that. Also, it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t quite have the body for it.
He’s not big like the alphas in their pack. Seokjin is big in every sense, gangly arms and shoulders so broad, you wouldn’t be able to pass him in a narrow hallway. But even Jimin has that quality about him that makes you crane your neck to hear him speak, never mind the fact that Hoseok is technically taller than him.
Yoongi is probably the least alpha alpha in the group. He sits more than he prowls and he doesn’t respond to the petty challenges that Taehyung throws his way.
Taehyung is the typical whelp alpha. He starts more fights with Jimin than there are seconds in a day and it’s mostly all in good fun but the apartment he shares with Jungkook can only take so many human-sized holes in the drywall before it’s more plaster than actual wall. Another big thing he does is pulses out his scent, or so Hoseok is told because he can’t fucking smell anything.
It sucks being the only beta. They don’t mention it to him, ever, but he can tell they feel bad. He’s babied more than Jungkook sometimes and there’s no reason other than because he’s lacking. Not presenting is his biggest regret, despite having zero control over it.
And they’re right to pity him.
Often times, it feels like he’s in the room but not in the conversation. There’s an undercurrent of emotion that he can’t tap into because it’s only conveyed via scent. He laughs along with them when they bully Jimin for his rosewater scent that apparently smells more like an omega than anything even though he has no fucking context.
But it’s who they are. Who they all are . He can’t ask them to just stop acknowledging their sense of smell because it makes him feel left out.
Because he’ll never be in their loop.
When they’ve gathered over Taehyung and Jungkook’s for an impromptu dinner, in various piles of each other around the room, the subject is brought to their attention.
Hoseok just listens as they discuss how hard his rut will hit after over three years suppressed and Hoseok may not be an alpha or omega but he’s helped Taehyung through his rut a few times so he at least has an idea of how bad it is normally.
Yoongi is different. Because he’s crushing so fucking hard on the alpha that he can’t see straight.
“Are you gonna call a service or just roll solo?” Jungkook asks, as Taehyung shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth. Two bodies, one brain. It’s been a week or so since Yoongi stopped his daily dose of suppressants but nobody can really tell yet. The paired couple took a good, long whiff of him when him and Hoseok first settled onto the couch beside them but he must not smell much different because all they did was shrug and disappear into their kitchen to make some snacks.
Yoongi tosses back the rest of his soju, probably in preparation to answer but Taehyung is too quick.
“Why isn’t Hoseok helping you?”
Yoongi’s head snaps to where Hoseok is bundled up beside him, fuzzy blanket tossed over the both of them because Hoseok is cold and Yoongi has no legal right to run this warm.
In truth, he’s practically fantasized about helping Yoongi through his rut. Opened his mouth a dozen times in the past week to offer to tend to him during his rut. Thought it may have been a good idea.
For a second. And then his skin crawled with how skeevy that is. To pretend to not be attracted to the way Yoongi’s face will scrunch up in arousal and to not be able to show how much he loves how primal Yoongi will be.
It was fine with Taehyung. His duties consisted of wiping the sweat from the alpha’s forehead when he worked himself too hard, muscles bulging because biology is telling him he needs to run far, and fast forever . He’d tossed him protein bars when the young alpha was too jittery to sit for a home cooked meal and when he finally burnt out, Hoseok always took his nimble fingers to work out the tense parts of his friend's body, starting from his neck on down so when the alpha was back in his own head, he didn’t ache for days.
Tending to alphas in rut isn’t sexual if initial attraction isn’t there, so it’s not like Yoongi would ever make a move on him, even rutting. Even so, it still isn’t right on Hoseok’s end to be so attracted to Yoongi. He shouldn’t even offer. Hoseok shakes his head and tunes back into the conversation.
“You’ve fucked Hoseok?” And that’s probably the meanest Hoseok has ever heard Yoongi. His pills must be working their way out of his system because the way he leans on his knees, half obscuring Hoseok from everyone else and staring intently at Taehyung is all alpha. The vulgarity also sends a jolt of arousal straight through his belly, surprisingly enough. Once more, Hoseok is so fucking grateful he isn’t an omega. How could he explain getting wet to just his best friend swearing?
“ No! He just fed me and stuff.” Taehyung races to correct, eyes darting between Yoongi’s daggers and Jungkook’s pouting lip. “Just kept me alive, I swear!”
This has to be a joke, Yoongi can’t genuinely think he would comfort Taehyung in that way. And be angry about it!
It’s a mean joke to pull on Taehyung, especially with his omega near. The whole ‘ angry alpha’ prank. Plus it makes Hoseok’s heart hurt so he yanks Yoongi back by the extra fabric of his sweatshirt with a huff.
“I’m a beta, hyung. I am more than capable of helping alphas through their ruts without fucking them.” He goes for strong but it comes out petulant, and whiny and he’s expecting Yoongi to snort but ultimately sit back into his seat like a dragon sleeping upon his horde. Subdued like he always is.
Instead, he stumbles to his feet, nostrils flaring and jaw squared. His fists curl rhythmically and a quick glance around the room tells him that they boys are smelling his unsuppressed scent for the first time. Such brats. They don’t even try to hide how disgusting they find his aggressive pheromones as they playfully fake gag to each other.
He looks, sick. And Hoseok may not be officially tending to his rut but he can sure as shit get his friend/crush back into their apartment before he faints.
They say their farewells and although Hoseok is pretty worried about Yoongi’s far away gaze, the youngest boys seem to brush it off as they wave their goodbyes.
There’s no words spoken between them on the ride back. As they pull into their lot, a strange warm chill runs down Hoseok’s back and his throat tightens like he’s going to throw up so he lets the weird silence linger between them.
____
The silence ends up lasting for another week.
It’s not overt. It’s just a steady decline of text messages between them that really tips Hoseok off. Recently, Yoongi really only messages him once a day to see if he got home and Hoseok is too much of a coward to confront the alpha yet. He’s probably the least of Yoongi’s worries right now. He’s probably trying to juggle finding a service with the anxiety of asking Hoseok to leave for a week so he can fuck whoever he rent for the week. All in the name of rut.
He’d be angrier if their group chat wasn’t flooded with people as equally annoyed with Yoongi’s absence as him. It’s not just Hoseok he’s ignoring, it’s everyone. Which somehow makes the pill easier to swallow.
They don’t have the best schedules to hang out but they have a few hours between Yoongi’s night classes and their day jobs to chit chat or get lunch. Normally Yoongi will just find Hoseok along the route he walks to get home and they’ll get whatever is closest and more often than not, Hoseok uses these times to wonder if this is what it would be like if he ever went on dates.
Would they slap Hoseok’s hand away when he goes to pick up the bill like Yoongi does? Would they wordlessly offer bits of their own plate Hoseok’s way like Yoongi does?
It’s not that he’s not interested or doesn’t find anyone attractive, nothing like that. People just don’t seem to like the weird subgender amalgamation he is, if he could guess at anything. They’re not biting for the beta that acts like an omega with none of the slick to back it up.
It’s become something he doesn’t even search for anymore. Back in high school, he was eager to be rid of his virginity like everyone else but people avoided that type of talk with him like the plague.
They’d chat with him about school projects or what color he’s dyeing his hair next or their favorite tv shows but the second Hoseok batted his eyes or tried to hint that he would very much like to be fucked, they scattered like spooked birds.
Maybe that’s why he fell for Yoongi so hard. In the aftermath of all these quiet rejections, the alpha was always nearby and would swaddle Hoseok in his jacket, warming his soft frown and would take him out for burgers or to a movie he mentioned he’d like to see.
Often times, Yoongi would yank him straight out of the darkness no matter where it crept from. And who wouldn’t fall in love with someone like that?
Hoseok hears Yoongi putter in their tiny kitchen, most likely heating up some ramen to eat while watching TV. Despite ignoring Hoseok, his main base these days tends to be their living room couch. It’s probably an alpha thing as Taehyung also refused to be confined to his room when he was rutting. Something about protecting the house?
Hoseok groans and rolls over. He feels like he just went three rounds with Jungkook. His muscles ache and even the weight of his blankets don’t feel right. His neck is sore and he only makes it worse when he tries to massage it.
He scares himself by looking up his symptoms and when he’s worked himself up into an anxiety attack, he shoots Namjoon a message who confirms without a doubt, No, you do don’t have meningitis no matter how bad your neck hurts.
His heart skips a beat when he sees Omega Presentation in the possible diagnoses. He only has muscle pain as a symptom anyway, so there’s no way. He isn’t leaking slick or giving off any sort of scent. Yoongi would’ve told him if he smelled either.
The window is open and the noise from downtown Seoul spills in. His phone jingles a sweet tune from the mobile game he tried to distract himself with before giving up and just jamming to the theme music idly.
Still, there is too much silence in this house.
He flicks open his phone to the messaging app. Yoongi’s contact photo is so handsome. It’s one the alpha took all by himself, with no prompting whatsoever! It’s of both of them, but Hoseok is out of focus, blurry in the background and it’s clearly a candid as he isn’t even looking at the camera. Yoongi smiles sweetly, medical mask tugged to right beneath his chin to expose his pudgy cheeks.
Hoseok’s fingers trace the outline of Yoongi and for a second, all he can think of is how his hair would feel pulled between his fingers.
His cunt pulses like a heartbeat when he’s involuntarily flooded with all the times Yoongi looked delectable. Two Halloweens ago when Hoseok managed to convince him to go as a cat, that time in senior year when he grabbed Hoseok’s waist to stop him from tripping. Any time the man wears a baseball hat is truly detrimental to his health.
His fingers skirt down his stomach, his t shirt drawn up over poking ribs. He doesn’t do this often, mostly because it never leads anywhere. His pussy is practically for show. Typically only found with omegas but he’s apart of the scant population of betas that are born with one. It only ever slicks up when played with and never as much as an omega even out of heat.
He rubs a finger through his folds and winces when the skin pulls. Spit is easier but more often than not, he gets preoccupied with twisting his tongue over his fingers and falls asleep before he can be reminded to go back to the main course.
But Yoongi’s face is fresh in his mind. And he’s been so alpha lately that Hoseok can help but do something.
His wet fingers make the glide simpler, immediately brushing against his swollen clit. It feels good, abstractly. Like he could take it or leave it.
Fantasies don’t work like the internet said they would. He can imagine Yoongi looming above him all he wants but it’s a great disconnect from reality. His fingers are thin and almost short compared to Yoongi’s. They’re tentative and uncertain because Hoseok has never even successfully touched himself let alone came whereas Yoongi has had enough one time partners and one-week girlfriends to know what to do with a pussy like his.
He wishes he had the courage to just buy a vibrator but it’s normally Yoongi who collects their mail and he would rather spend forever with his fingers that don’t even reach very far inside him than have his crush see that he bought a sex toy.
He could ask Jimin but the alpha would leak it to the rest of their group or tease him mercilessly forever and that’s equally unfeasible.
So he’s stuck trying to find a way to shove his fingers deep inside himself to the spot inside his cunt where the internet says will feel like fireworks. Times like this makes him wish more than anything that he could be an omega. He’s heard everything feels good. Some oversharing omegas have told him that they can get off just by playing with their nipples. Thanks Kihyun.
Even so, he mostly avoids his chest, the muscles ache painfully when he moves and the whole area feels full, if that makes sense.
He whines in annoyance when he begins to feel raw, not enough pleasure when he rubs his clit to forgive the soreness. His thighs shift against each other and he drops his hand to the bed, defeated.
The knock on his door is loud, assertive, and he squeaks as he scrambles to right his clothing.
“One second!” His voice is breathy and he hopes Yoongi mistakes it as sleepy versus horny. His stomach fills with lead when he thinks oh fuck, did he hear me?
It’s brushed away when he rationalizes that no, Yoongi couldn’t have heard him. He was so quiet, barely even whimpered because it just doesn’t feel good enough to moan.
But the smell.
Betas don’t have pheromones but the scent of sex is unmistakable. Especially to an alpha close to rut.
The scream he lets out is quiet, and mostly air but still, his heart rate skyrockets. His hand fumbles beneath the bed as he searches for the lighter Jimin dropped behind there a few weeks ago. Frantically, his trembling hands manage to coerce a flickering flame from the lighter and he lights a few candles on his bedside table.
One is Hawaiian Paradise and one is Alpine Bliss and they smell totally gross together but at least it’ll disguise the scent of sex.
He tears the door open a second later and Yoongi wastes no time in pushing past him. He grunts, footsteps heavy as he prowls around Hoseok’s room. He’s looking for something and whatever it is, he isn’t finding it.
The alpha yanks curtains aside and he crouches to peek under Hoseok’s bed and this is probably another weird subgender thing that’s lost in translation to him. It’s not something Hoseok cares about. He just hopes the shitty candles are enough to hide what he was doing.
When Yoongi has searched behind his curtains and beneath his bed, and in his closet and even just outside his window and down onto the street below, he seems to deflate, tension bled completely from his shoulders. He looks Hoseok up and down and he can’t help but shift in his extra long t shirt. It’s his usual sleepwear but Yoongi looks at him like he’s naked and it isn’t unpleasant but it’s different. He can’t tell if it’s disapproval or something else in Yoongi’s eyes so he just stays still as he’s analyzed.
“C’mon, made you some japchae.”
That seems to be Yoongi for ‘ i don’t know what happened but something happened but i don’t know so you aren’t in trouble and also im sorry about ignoring you’ so Hoseok just sighs in relief and follows Yoongi out towards the couch.
Hoseok’s cheeks are red, and his hair is probably a mess from where he tossed and turned but the noodles are hot in his belly and Yoongi is joking with him about how the sauce is splattered up around his mouth and the chill of the previous week is forgotten for now so he just laughs along and goes with it.
--
Hoseok’s been thinking about it.
No, really!
It actually makes perfect sense.
He’s a beta! Which means he’d be of perfect, sound mind to take care of Yoongi. He couldn’t be thrown into heat and he would never get the biological urge to challenge a rutting alpha because he’s a fucking beta.
Yeah, he still loves Yoongi and all but he has enough respect for the guy to not make the entire thing about his affection and his feelings. This is just a service between friends. One Hoseok will do gladly. He just has to run it by Yoongi.
And Hoseok was all ready to run it by the alpha. He’d written out a pretty, decorated pros and cons list before they left for movie night and afterwards, he was going to sit down with Yoongi and tell him why nobody can help him through rut better that this beta! That he’d never work harder than for his hyung!
His hyung, who is currently giving him the world’s most obvious side eye as he drives them home from movie night. This time, they all gathered in Seokjin and Namjoon’s living room and huddled up for a scary movie or something, Hoseok isn’t 100% sure as the second he laid his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, he was out like a light.
He only woke a few minutes before they left and it was to Yoongi shifting to accept something Jimin was handing out to him.
“Their omegas are pretty casual about the whole thing, and they don’t make it weird.” Hoseok’s ears perk up as he read the card’s small print from where Yoongi holds the card in front of his face.
From what his blurry vision allows, it’s some fancy heat service where each of the omegas have their own card as Yoongi is currently holding one that belongs to a Kim Hyuna omega.
Neither of them have noticed he’s awake but suddenly he’s too angry to sit still. A fucking rut service? Someone is going to come into the house they share? Together? And she’s going to be the wet hole Yoongi needs for his rut?
They’re going to fuck ten feet from where Hoseok lays his head?
His muscles jerk, uncoordinated as he fights to get to his feet. Both Jimin and Yoongi startle as they both go to steady the beta.
“M’ fine.” It’s dismissive and too cold to be from Hoseok but there’s something gnawing at the edges of his subconscious. It feels oppressive and angry and sad and almost betrayed?
It’s new and he fucking hates it.
He shakes out of other people’s arms as he fights his way to the front door. Getting into their car was a blur, and Hoseok isn’t even sure he actually said goodbye to anyone. Pretty sure he just walked straight out of Seokjin's house to sit with his arms crossed in the passenger seat.
There’s snow on the ground but he’s so hot, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam lifted off his bare skin in the winter air. He’s been running too hot lately and he’ll have to schedule an appointment with his doctor because this fever and achy muscles have been going on for a few weeks, at least. When he crosses his arms, he almost cries out due to the intense ache his tits immediately throb with.
As he parks the car, Yoongi glances at him sideways for the hundredth time and he can’t take it anymore so he snaps his head to the side and stares right back.
“Something wrong, ‘Seok?”
Whatever is making him so angry fucking hates that nickname and that sweet, almost indulgent tone of voice Yoongi has. Like he’s a child to be coddled.
It’s like he has no filter. Like every livid moment he’s ever had is condensed into this tantrum and it’s weird because distantly, Hoseok knows that he has no claim on Yoongi. For fucks sake he’s a beta with a secret crush. What did he expect? Yoongi to just never use a service, for no reason? He’s a virile, young alpha newly off suppressants. Of course, he’s gonna take an omega.
Even though his anger is irrational, he can’t stop the indignant scoff that rips from his throat.
“ Fuck off.”
He hears Yoongi walk behind him into their apartment and even though he just accepts Hoseok’s anger, his eyes never leave the beta’s head as he hurries to lock himself in his bedroom.
---
Hoseok doesn’t come out for an entire day.
The first few hours are spent fuming. How fucking dare Yoongi flaunt that card in front of his face? Hoseok isn’t nearly as secretive as he’d like and he’s bet his life that everyone in their pack knows of his crush on Yoongi.
And even after Yoongi knew he was more than capable of taking care of an alpha in rut, he still took Kim Hyuna’s card. Because he didn’t want Hoseok. Not even to take care of him platonically.
He angrily swipes away his friend’s chat bubbles as they try to message him. He even growls when he sees Jimin’s smiling face.
He gave Yoongi that omega’s information.
And for now, in his addled state of mind, that’s enough to hate him.
However, nobody, especially not Hoseok can stay livid forever and his anger burns out after a few hours and all that’s left behind is wet sadness.
Yoongi didn’t want me. We do everything together, but not this.
And then his mind blanks for the next hour as he sobs into his pillow as quietly as he can muster.
Rinse, repeat.
Eventually, the guilt tears his apart and he individually messages his friends with personalized apologies because he feels that bad. Yoongi’s messages go unread even though his fingers hover over them hungrily. It’s the principle.
In the group chat, they’re discussing the movie they’re gonna watch tonight and when Hoseok scrolls up a bit to the messages he missed, he finds out they're piling into Jimin's studio for the night. Such close quarters is the exact opposite of what he needs tonight.
He quickly types out that he isn’t feeling well enough to hang out with them and that he’s gonna sleep it off. A wave of drowsiness hits him as Jimin spams the chat with sad face emojis so he sinks under the waves, eager to sleep through the worst of his sickness.
----
Hoseok awakes like he’s swimming through molasses.
He shifts and the blankets are so soft, that he almost doesn’t want to get up at all. Surely, his own bed has never felt this good? He could stay here forever.
Just then, his stomach rolls angrily and he can’t sit still with the ache in his gut. There’s a gnawing emptiness that refuses to be ignored. Blearily, he manages to count on his fingers how long its been since he’s eaten. Even the ache in his chest is eclipsed by his hunger.
He fumbles for his phone to check the time and yelps when he drops it on his face, unable to firmly grip the plastic with his shaky, sweaty hands.
His door is thrown open, flooding his dark room with the brilliant blue light from the TV. He winces, whining softly as his eyes pulse with pain from the sudden light.
It’s gone as quickly as it came and he’s left blinking to adjust his eyes in the darkness.
There’s a cool hand on his forehead and he chases it instinctively, the fire brewing beneath his skin lashing out violently like a popping fire. His mouth is dry and when he goes to speak, his voice cracks pathetically.
He’s shushed immediately, cooed at in a way that makes him shiver.
“ -hungry, baby?”
He nods, curling to sit up when Yoongi’s hand caresses his wet skin all the way down to a jutting collarbone, one big hand pressing him firmly down into the mattress. It’s overwhelming, with Yoongi looming over him, bracketing him right back down onto his bed but it’s so comforting; The best he’s felt all week.
“ Stay . Hyung will help.”
And Yoongi’s word is law.
He’s going to help because he said he was going to help. Yoongi would never lie. Hoseok will be fine if he stays in bed and waits for the alpha’s return. His chest burns where he was touched, held. He’ll stay here for as long as Yoongi asks.
He clenches his eyes to block the light as Yoongi slips from the room. Something isn’t right. The abyss behind his eyes is too dark. His gut rolls again and a cramp wrings a soft cry from him.
His hands stretch upward, t shirt riding perilously high on his thighs as he seeks out the cooler sheets he hasn’t laid on yet. A steady whine builds in his throat as something bitter tinges the air, and it makes his heart stutter for some reason.
He must not notice Yoongi sneak back in because he’s startled when the alpha settles beside him on the bed.
“Shh,” Yoongi rasps, placing the box of pizza on the bedside table as he scoots up towards the headboard. “S’okay, honey.”
Hoseok sniffles and when he fights to sit up again, Yoongi doesn’t outright stop him. Hoseok smiles dopily as he draws the younger man closer with two hands under his arms . His mouth waters as Yoongi lifts him so he’s lying in between parted legs, the alpha’s arms settling to rest on the small swell of Hoseok's folded stomach.
This isn’t right. This is a scene straight out of all Hoseok’s fantasies. Yoongi’s undivided attention , his alpha scent thick in the air and he’s even hand feeding him.
He opens his mouth obediently, not even sure what Yoongi is putting into his mouth until the warmed up grease drips onto his tongue. He munches on the pizza happily, curling his fingers absently in Yoongi’s sweatpants like a kneading cat.
The alpha’s tiramisu scent shouldn’t compliment the pizza at all but Hoseok still finds himself inhaling deeply to get more of it, loving the combination.
Wait.
His scent?
Hoseok sniffs the air, batting away Yoongi’s prompting hand full of pizza despite the grumble the alpha lets out. Through the fog of his brain, he manages to, at the very least, realize that he shouldn’t be able to smell the delectable pheromones Yoongi is pulsing out.
The older man snarls when Hoseok moves to sit up, his free arm an iron band around his waist.
“ Yoongi, ” He cries, muscles tensing because something is wrong but he doesn’t know what. His body is soft and warm, muscles relaxed down to their very marrow but his mind is racing.
“Finish your food.”
Hoseok shifts a bit, just to tense the security of Yoongi’s grip and he doesn’t move a fucking inch . He’s sinking again, being lulled by the siren call of coffee and rain and winter somewhere soft and warm, just by the authoritative tone the alpha uses. Hoseok nods, and chomps at the pizza dutifully.
He isn’t allowed up until he eats it all, even the crust. This isn’t something he’s accustomed to; the devotion, the pampering. It makes his heart race and his breath come in heavy. Especially because this is Yoongi. Yoongi is softly purring in his ear, nuzzling his sore neck with his nose and kissing the raw skin when Hoseok rips a big bite off.
Once he’s swallowed the last of the food, he’s on autopilot, tongue peeking out to lap at the remaining sauce on Yoongi’s long, musician’s fingers instinctively.
The coffee spikes into something sharp, like liqueur and it makes Hoseok’s cunt pulse so intensely, he cries out. Yoongi’s fingers fall from his mouth to wetly trail alongside his mouth.
They’re not idle for long, a second later, they grip the edge of Hoseok’s jaw and force him to bare his neck. His grasp firm but not painful, just enough to have Hoseok keening.
All at once, Yoongi’s tongue is laving a path through the sweat that has undoubtedly built upon his skin and it sends Hoseok’s hips jerking helplessly.
“Please.” His voice is whiny, but it has Yoongi hurrying to shush him, bending his knees so he can cradle Hoseok. “M’ hot.”
“Yeah, baby. You’re in heat.” He murmurs against the raised skin of his new scent gland. He’s so doused in the alpha’s scent, his new nose can’t discern his own pheromones from Yoongi’s.
The world spins for a second, then tips on its side.
It all makes sense. The fever, sore muscles, the persistent ache in his chest, and the sore neck was just his body manifesting a scent gland.
He’s sure the heat is suppressing most of his anxiety about the situation as right now, he can’t focus on much more than Yoongi’s approving growl as it rumbles through his back.
The pressure in his chest releases all at once, like a taut rubber band breaking in a snap.
“ Oh god, ” Hoseok whines, hands flying up to cover his chest.
Behind him, the alpha inhales and turns his head a bit to the side.
The TV is low but it can be heard through the wall with how quiet they are. It’s all the noise in the apartment for a few beats. It’s silent until the first drop of milk drips down the slight bulge of Hoseok’s tit.
Betas don’t have milk and if he needed anymore evidence that he’s an omega, it’s coming straight from his chest.
He’s fully drawn onto Yoongi’s lap before he can even think about scurrying away.
“Let me go! It hurts. ” He puffs his chest up, aching as it is and uses the voice that works on Taehyung. It’s about as authoritative as Hoseok can get and it never fails to put Taehyung in line when he’s particularly mischievous during his ruts.
Behind him, the alpha’s chuckle is dark, like he doesn’t give a fuck. Like Hoseok can act however he wants but they both know who’s the alpha and who’s in rut.
He cries out when a warm line of liquid drips from his other nipple. After that, it freely dripples down and his chest is going to be so sticky and tacky when the night is done.
Hoseok squirms when Yoongi’s hands begin to crawl beneath his t shirt. He claws at the invading fingers, but it's inevitable, especially when Yoongi is whispering against the shell of his ear, button nose nuzzling his budding scent gland.
“I always fucking knew you weren’t a beta.”
He can only fend off Yoongi’s wandering hands for so long and the second he loses, the alpha rewards him with a harsh suck against his throat.
He should’ve spent the money on the blood test to see once and for all if he was going to be an omega. Then he wouldn’t be bouncing on his hyung’s lap and spiraling into his first heat.
Yoongi shifts, knee prying apart Hobi’s legs even as he fights against it. His scent is new, and is vaguely reminiscent of a summer Popsicle but so terribly sweet. His nose twitches, now he can smell Yoongi’s pheromones and how they make something intoxicating with his own.
Hoseok should be able to tell Yoongi stop, but his hands pinch and prod at his peaks hungrily. Hoseok shivers, as he smooths his hands from the base of his newly swollen chest to his nipples, snarling when milk freely pours over his knuckles.
And even though he’s gentle and even though he’s cooing in Hoseok’s ear, it still fucking hurts.
The constant stimulation on his tit is maddening, and it isn’t long before the pressure is building in his gut.
His hands curl weakly around Yoongi’s wrist and he’s whining as the alpha roughly rubs his nipples with the calloused palm of his hand over and over and over. When Hoseok inhales, it’s all Yoongiyoongiyoongi and his brilliant mint scent. It’s more bitter dark roast, than creme coffee but it's so fucking striking and potent , draped over them both like a blanket. It’s thick in their apartment too, so heavy he doesn’t know how he didn’t smell it before.
“Please, hyung! It’s too much.” Hoseok has never cum from anyone’s hand but today might be that day.
It’s so embarrassing. To cum on his crush’s lap when he never even knew he’d be going into heat ever . And from just getting his tits played with. He feels like the dumb omega slut cast in every porno ever. Shame rouges his cheeks because he’s sure he’s soaked Yoongi’s sweatpants straight through.
He shakes his head, craning his neck away so he doesn’t have to see the outline of Yoongi’s hands as they shift beneath his shirt.
“M’ so sore, alpha!” He whines, imploring the alpha to remember he’s not here to cum , he’s here to take care of Yoongi while he cums. He was never supposed to get this way, drunk on pheromones and grinding on the alpha’s leg.
As if hypnotized by the way he squirms, Yoongi mechanically lathes his fingers in spit before returning them to tweak his nipples, knee grinding up into the omega’s clit. Yoongi rasps in his ear, and he sounds breathless.
“It’s okay, s’okay. Cum, baby. You gotta cum.”
The pressure in his stomach snaps a second later as Yoongi forces him harder against his knee.
“ Oh! C-Cumming! Yoongi!” He thrashes as much as he can with Yoongi ensnaring him at every turn. He can barely even jerk his hips forward to chase his orgasm with how tightly he’s being held. In hindsight, he can recognize it as an alpha in rut thing, refusing to let their omega go but in the present, he just enjoys the possessive gesture.
Goosebumps trail across his skin and he can't stop shaking. When the shudders slow to quivers, he relaxes in Yoongi’s grip, limp and pliant.
In an uncharacteristic act of bravado, Yoongi taps the wet spot above Hoseok’s pussy twice, rapping harshly against his clit. Hoseok can feel the mouth at his neck twist into a smirk when he whimpers and his hips jerk automatically.
He gets barely a second of respite, a scant few moments of the alpha petting him anywhere he can reach, tongue worrying his scent gland.
Then, his world spins, life coming into focus like a roll of film with frames missing. His cheek is pillowed into the blanket and his back is bowed in a stance he immediately recognizes as a mating position.
Hoseok sobs and it only seems to make the alpha more excited as his huge fucking hands wrap around his hips and yank. His legs end up splayed on top of Yoongi’s thighs, cunt pressed right over the bulge of the alpha’s cock and with his face pressed onto the comforter, he really does play the part of a bitch in heat.
Face down, ass up.
“Always knew you’d be so perfect like this. You’re dripping, Hoseokie.”
His knuckles trace the seam of his cunt through his wet panties, his free hand making sure his omega’s spine stays arched. He’s slick straight down to his thighs, the fabric of his underwear unable to soak up the worst of his lubrication. Hoseok feels drunk. The type of drunk that would knock him on his ass come morning but right now, he feels fine. Like he’s safe, and could stop at any time but why would he?
Maybe it’s fate that he presented like this. That he presents right when Yoongi goes off suppressants. Maybe they’re soulmates.
It’s hard not to think so when Yoongi’s lips are tracing the thin band of his underwear, kissing reverently as he tugs the fabric down.
Yoongi’s breath gusts across the back of his thighs and he can’t help but clench in anticipation. His hands are warm as they smooth over his skin, and Hoseok can’t see him, but his gaze feels appraising, like he’s a prized stud.
A cool finger spears through his heated folds and it should be unpleasant but it’s so tantalizing. Hoseok would love nothing more than to rip around Yoongi’s fingers. Impossibly long and so thick, just two would feel like a full cock to his virginal cunt. Must be something primal, to want to be so consumed by his alpha.
“H-hyung,” His words have no more fire, just teary desperation and he’ll take anything that’s given to him. His consciousness surfaces only by the contact of Yoongi’s flesh on his own, a balm to his heat induced temporary insanity.
“Can alpha play with your pink pussy? Wanna see how many fingers you can take before you split. ”
His words are sympathetic but they conjure an image in Hoseok’s mind. An image of him crying, sobbing from the harsh intrusion of three of Yoongi’s fingers tearing but still shoving his hips back, eager to feel the alpha’s nails scratch at the spot in his pussy the internet says is amazing. He’s never heard of an omega not being able to take someone, to have to be stretched. It’s mostly just foreplay and he’s torn between accepting the fingers and outright demanding his cock.
Finally, he’ll get to feel what he’s hungered after for years. Every time Yoongi flicks through his sheet music. Every complex composition he plays on his cheap Yamaha, pale fingers pressing all of the right notes and none of the wrong in perfect tempo. So precise. Clean.
He doesn’t care if Yoongi is only coddling him because of his rut. He doesn’t care that his presentation is making him act like a little bitch in heat, and he’ll probably cry when he remembers this moment in a week or so. He doesn’t care that this will probably ruin their friendship because he was on borrowed time anyway. He can’t keep doing what he was doing, the elephant that was on his back every time they were in the room together.
The oppressive weight of knowing that if his feelings aren't reciprocated by now, they never would be.
Right now, there is none of that. There’s just his saliva dampening the comforter, his own fingers twisted up in his tongue. Heat, from everywhere, pulsing off his skin like the sun lashing into space with solar flares. Weight of Yoongi’s palm on his back, and the scent of alpha thick in his nose.
There’s everything but fear and Hoseok can’t fathom why people would ever take medication to get rid of this .
“You drifting, baby?”
Yoongi’s weight is fully laid over his back, his entire body bracketing him at every avenue. His elbows are keeping him aloft, even as Hoseok strains upward to keep contact instinctively.
He pecks Hoseok’s cheek playfully, and somewhere out of the omega’s view, a belt buckle is yanked open. Yoongi’s mouth is pouted cutely, and his lips are slick, it makes Hoseok’s heart hurt because he’s already cum from the alpha once tonight and he has never even kissed him.
He must deeper into this floaty head space than he thought because he doesn’t realize he’s whining in his throat until Yoongi shushes him, tutting at his wobbly lower lip.
“Seokie,” Yoongi drifts closer, as if reading his mind and smiling so wide it must hurt. “Kiss me, honey.”
Hoseok is sure he doesn’t move, can’t move with how boneless he feels so it’s all on the alpha to connect their lips at last.
Their first kiss is sweet. It’s warm. Not frenzied like the rest of their movements for the past few hours. The angle should be awkward but they manage to fit together nicely. He knows his lips are wet with drool but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind as he presses a chaste kiss to his softly parted lips.
The alpha turns his head, and Hoseok naturally follows his lead, allowing a tongue to creep into his mouth and trace his own. It spreads a new heat down to his marrow and when they pull apart, even in the dim light, Hoseok can see the way the alpha’s eyes glaze over as the rut reaches its zenith.
They lean into each other as his blunt cock head rest against Hoseok’s quivering entrance, mouths wet and touching but for now, content to do no more. He’s so fucking wet. He’s never even been half as soaked as this. Yoongi could slip in with a thought.
“Let me in.”
Hoseok is going to speak up. To say he will always let Yoongi in. Even if he wasn’t in heat, there isn’t a scenario in which he would deny Yoongi. From their first moment, the alpha could do anything he wanted and he’d thank him.
But then he begins to push inside and Hoseok understands what he meant.
Despite his desire to let the alpha within him, his muscles aren’t used to the bruising pressure that is forcing inside and they lock up. He cries out into Yoongi’s mouth and his nails almost tear through the blanket in his alarm.
It isn’t torture, not by a long shot. But it’s such a deep, visceral ache that he almost wants Yoongi to back up and try again when the pain is gone. He’s about to voice this to the alpha when his hands seize the narrowest part of his waist and yanks .
With a squeal, Yoongi is buried up to the hilt inside him and he’s so much bigger than Hoseok ever thought he could take. A gasps rips from his chest, and when he involuntarily clenches, he can feel every line of Yoongi’s cock. Every ridge and vein and Hoseok can even feel how he swells just a bit more when he’s firmly trapped within his depths.
He pants, and is allowed to catch his breath for a second before Yoongi pulls out and it feels like he’s tugging the bottom of his stomach out with him.
The grip on his waist cinches tighter, and Hoseok moans when he realizes Yoongi’s fingers touch all the way around. He’s just a touch taller than the older man but when he’s beneath him, surrounded on all sides by his vibrant coffee pheromones, he feels so terribly small.
He chokes when Yoongi shoves in again, sobbing into the comforter when his cock batters the bottom of his cunt.
“I barely fit, baby.” The alpha sounds amazed, like having his omega writing beneath him is all he can think of, all he can focus on.
Hoseok can do nothing but gurgle and take the thrusts of the man above him, his senses entirely encompassed by rut. Each shove inside is a shove that steals the breath from his lungs and sends his stomach quivering.
It’s easy to sit here and let the alpha work out his rut with each squelch into his pussy. Easy to drift in between pleasure and happiness and back again over and over and not notice Yoongi pulling out entirely.
He doesn’t realize overwhelmed tears are building until they’re dripping down his face and joining his spit in the puddle where his face lays.
It’s uncomfortable and although his cunt twinges weakly, he needs the alpha back inside him. If he dies tomorrow, he needs this today.
Hobi is flipped over easily, with one hand on his hip that guides him to his back as gently as the rutting alpha can manage.
Everything is dark, but both their eyes are well adjusted. The color-shifting nightlight Hoseok has in the corner of his room casts Yoongi in brilliant vermilion and he looks intimidating for half a second until it shift to a softer color and he’s Yoongi. The love of his fucking life.
His blonde hair is askew, and his shirt is rucked up just enough for his cock to spill from his open zipper. The look in his eyes is familiar. It’s the one he had when they first met, right after dance class and he was sweaty and half clothed in his loose tank top. When Hoseok moved in with him and had to wear the alpha’s clothes that first night because his stuff hadn’t been shipped yet.
The heat strips him of all doubt, all self-loathing and he can see so fucking clearly that that look in Yoongi’s eyes is affection. It’s lust. At it’s very base and primal state, it’s want.
His legs fall open all by themselves and there’s no more fumbling after that. Hands grab his thighs and then Hoseok is being pushed into roughly, Yoongi’s cock hitting his spot with terrifying accuracy. He keens and cries and Yoongi swallows all of these noises in his grinning mouth, sending a few growls of his own down Hoseok’s throat when he hits the end of his cunt.
Hoseok pants when his hands are wrenched up over his head in one, long fingered grip. He tests the strength, just to hear Yoongi snarl and rock into him harder.
He closes his eyes for a second, overwhelmed and at a loss because no matter where he goes, he can’t escape the battering pressure inside him.
“Watch who’s fucking you or I won’t knot you.”
He’s probably bluffing. What rutting alpha would willingly pull out of a wet omega just before a knot? Then again, if there were such an alpha, it would have to be someone as petty as Yoongi.
And he can’t risk that when the very word ‘knot’ makes him open his mouth to gurgle out a moan, fighting to keep his eyes open and trained on how Yoongi’s hips rotate.
It’s made infinitely harder when the alpha ducks his head, tongue lapping teasingly at his swollen nipples. They still hurt but some heaviness is back and he’s torn between wanting respite for his aching chest and for a wet mouth to suck him down.
Yoongi decides for him as he scrapes a canine over his blushing peak. His lips seal around his tit and he isn’t playing anymore when he sucks, drawing the sweet, omega milk down his throat.
The pressure in his stomach is building once more, his clit throbbing to be touched, flicked, anything the alpha is willing to give, but Hoseok’s misery is ignored.
“ T-thank you, thank you, thank you.” The omega babbles mindlessly. He’s gonna die if Yoongi doesn’t know how much he needs to be fucked and knotted and loved.
“So polite .” He coos, unlatching from his tit and tracing his tongue along Hobi’s new scent gland.
If he wanted to, he could claim Hoseok. Bury his teeth in his gland and bond them together for life. Their heat and rut would sync up and their scents would mingle forever. It’s so tantalizing. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. And it’s right here.
All it takes is a soft nibble against his leaking scent gland and an angled grind against his clit to send Hoseok spiraling, cunt constricting like a vice around Yoongi’s rapidly swelling cock.
He whites out, caught in the loop of yoongialphayoongi once more. When he returns, it takes a second for all of his muscles to unclench. Hobi’s teeth ache in a way that tells him he was clenching them as hard as he could.
“ Oh!” He squeaks, suddenly so much fuller than the last second.
Yoongi growls, lip pulling up in a snarl as he works his knot past Hoseok’s stretched entrance. With a sharp jerk, he’s buried inside. So deep, it hurts. It’s like a stomach ache but so much more because it’s caused by Yoongi, and his cock as it carves out a place within Hoseok.
Yoongi grins and abstractly, Hoseok wonders why. All for a second, until he feels the first surge of cum inside him. It satisfies something primal in him, he assumes the omega part of his brain and all he wants to do is say thank you over and over again.
Thank you for choosing me, thank you for knotting me, thank you thank you, hyung.
He doesn’t realize he’s actually saying the words until Yoongi’s fond smile filters through his brain haze.
“Thank you, Seokie.” A big palm covers the entirety of his stomach as it fills with cum. It’s barely noticeable, but as a dancer, Hoseok is intimately familiar with his own body so the difference is clear.
It feels like it’s the middle of the night. The in between, Twilight Zone hours that fill the space but aren’t real come morning. He feels secure in covering Yoongi’s hand with his own, with smiling up at the alpha and whispering through chapped lips.
“Love you, hyung.”
Yoongi’s silence doesn’t even scare him because this is barely a confession. By now, the depths of his affection must be obvious. His hyung is his hyung. There’s no way he’ll lose him.
“Hyung loves you so much, Seokie.”
And before he can snap his gaze back up to Yoongi, his teeth are buried in his shoulder, perilously close to his scent gland and it’s clear what he means.
It’s an intent to claim. Something done when you intend to mate.
That’s forever, Hoseok’s eyes say.
Yeah, I know, Yoongi’s grin says back.