Chapter Text
PART I
Park Jimin is a ticking time bomb. These days it’s a matter of when instead of if. It could be hours, it could be weeks, it’s hard to say. But no matter how long it will take, it is inevitable. His time is running out. He can feel it in every bone; the very fibre of his being.
Namjoon is the only one who knows. When he’d found Jimin curled up in the back of the stockroom, back pressed into the darkest corner he could find while clawing at his head so hard he drew blood, he’d sworn to keep his secret. Sworn to find a solution before it was too late. Jimin had let him believe there was a chance, had let him believe he could be saved.
But though the truth was unspoken, they all knew. Once the virus took hold of you, there was no way back.
It’s been a slow night, only a few cats here and there, and a truck tearing past on the dirt road ahead. The more deserted the town, the more creatures crawl. But not this town, apparently. Despite being the only ones taking cover here, the streets remained empty. The boys had scouted ahead well.
Beside him, Taehyung lights up a cigarette. The flame illuminates his handsome face, licking across the dual scars edged into his cheek. The feline wordlessly holds it out to Jimin, but he shakes his head. He’s in control today. Better to keep the distractions to when he actually needs them.
In goes a deep breath, a lick of quiet against his sore throat. Patrol settles Jimin’s nerves in a way nothing else quite can. The beast inside of him turns quiet, leaving him to focus on what matters. When it’s just him and Taehyung, it’s easier to put his alpha on a leash. No whirlpool of scents, or different cultures clashing. It’s just them and the silence.
On nights like these, he wonders what the world will be like once this is all over.
Hours fly by until the next interruption. Both Taehyung and Jimin’s ears perk up at the sound of crushing leaves. Boots, leather, no remarkable scent at this distance; unmistakingly human.
Jimin folds a hand around Taehyung’s forearm, signalling to remain put. ‘ I’ve got this,’ he says wordlessly, with a single look. Taehyung nods curtly, reaching over his shoulder to draw his gun from his back.
With a swift jump, Jimin lands on one of the containers stacked beside the warehouse. Soundless as always, he creeps along the length of the box until he reaches the building, leaping onto the broken windowsill and slipping inside. He ducks down, slinking along the outer wall until he reaches the other side. His hand twitches beside the gun strapped to his thigh, ready to pull and shoot if he needs to. But for now, he’d rather remain empty handed.
The forest leaves a deep shadow on the western side of the warehouse, coating its walls in darkness. There’s another crunch of leaves, and Jimin’s ears sharpen. The intruder is scuttering around a little further south, just across the treeline. Jimin crosses the distance in a heartbeat, extracting his claws. This’ll be quick.
The intruder kneels down at the forest edge, seemingly looking for something. The wind picks up, and Jimin hangs threateningly above the figure when a waft of their scent fills his nostrils. His claws retract back into his fingers with lightning speed, heart thundering in his chest.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he hisses, grabbing the figure by the shoulder to turn him around.
Jimin’s hand is clamped around Jeongguk’s mouth in a heartbeat to muffle the scream. Big, brown eyes stare up at him, softening with recognition. Jeongguk’s shoulders slump, and Jimin lets him go as if burned.
“Hey,” the human says sheepishly. He gives a stupid little wave, and irritation flicks in Jimin’s chest.
“Don’t fucking ‘hey’ me,” he snarls, signalling at Jeongguk to get up. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be outside at this hour?! What the fuck were you thinking ?!”
Jeongguk blinks, looking down at the crushed leaves between his fingers. Jimin watches the horror drain all the colour from his cheeks. “Shit,” he says, head shooting back up to meet Jimin’s eyes. “They aren’t supposed to be pressed outside! I need to capture the vapour before it evaporates.”
The agitation on the human’s face crushes Jimin’s heart, and he sighs. “It’s just leaves, Jeongguk,” he says gently. “You’ll find some more.”
Jimin expects a lot of things. He expects Jeongguk to explode with anger, to disagree, to run off, to jump him, but he doesn’t expect him to stay silent. It’s as if he’s nailed to the ground, unable to take another step. Or another breath, for that matter. Is he even breathing?
The leaves have fallen from Jeongguk’s palms, laying withered and empty around his feet. Even with his face hidden beneath the long strands of his unruly hair, Jimin can tell he’s distressed. He can smell it on him, even if it’s faint. His fingers twitch as he fights the urge to hold out a hand.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside.”
Jeongguk doesn’t move, doesn’t answer. He simply stares at his feet as if they have all the answers. Jimin’s stomach turns. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, preferably not ever. The silence tramples him, and from the depths of his soul, his alpha digs his nails into his chest.
He should run, but he cannot leave Jeongguk out here by himself. It’s too dangerous.
To his surprise, Jeongguk doesn’t say a word. The battle inside of him is ever so present, but he holds himself firm. “I need the leaves,” is all he says, before turning around and walking back into the forest.
Jimin curses under his breath, darting after him. “Can’t you do this tomorrow? When it’s light out?”
“No.”
Another sigh passes through his lips. If he’d expected Jeongguk to listen to him, he must’ve hit his head. Not after everything that’s happened between them. “How many do you need?”
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Taehyung is in a state of murder when they return, eyes sharp and unforgiving. Seeing Jeongguk beside Jimin doesn’t surprise him, but his sour scent is all the warning Jimin needs. He’s in for a treat.
“Go inside,” he tells Jeongguk, hoping to spare him, but the human doesn’t move.
“Joon smashed the pot with arcanumi,” he tells Taehyung, holding up the bag of leaves they’d collected.
Taehyung raises an unimpressed brow. “And he told you to restock in the middle of the night? I highly doubt it.”
Jeongguk shakes his head, lowering the bag. “He didn’t.”
Taehyung’s brow twitches. “For fuck’s sake, Jeongguk.”
When the human flinches, Jimin broadens his shoulders and steps in front of him, giving his friend a sharp look. “Hey,” he says lowly. “Keep it down.”
“He’s going to get us all killed!” Taehyung says, pointing an accusing finger at Jeongguk.
Anger thunders through Jimin’s chest, but Jeongguk interrupts him before he can explode. “If I don’t have my materials, yes.”
Both hybrids stiffen. Their gazes cross, a shared pain swirling through their eyes. Jimin turns around to find Jeongguk staring into the distance again, the bag of leaves clamped tightly in his fist. He reaches out before he can stop himself, the human’s name falling from his lips, but Jeongguk steps back before he can get a hold on him.
“I’m going inside,” he says, turning around on his heels and bee-lining for the back entrance of the warehouse.
Jimin is nailed to the floor, agitation scratching at his chest. It’s wild and feral, digging its way to the surface. A low whine catches in the back of his throat, and Jimin wildly shakes his head, trying to regain control. Everything inside him screams to run after Jeongguk. Catch him before they lose him completely, but he can’t . He can’t risk it.
A deep sigh blows against the back of his neck. “How much longer are you going to torture yourself?” Taehyung asks.
“Until I cease to be,” Jimin grits through his teeth, forcing himself to turn his back on the warehouse.
Taehyung clamps a hand around his shoulder, squeezing tight. “He might be the only solution, you know?”
Jimin’s head snaps towards his friend, a growl threatening to tear past his teeth. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Taehyung smiles sadly, hand sliding from Jimin’s shoulder, back to his gun. “We all see it, Jimin.” We all see you’re going insane.
“I’m fine.”
Taehyung hums, humouring him. Jimin wants to scream. It wants to tear, it wants to feed, it wants to bleed . But he can’t. Not yet. He’s got things to do, lives to protect. He can’t let it take control. What if he hurts them? What if he hurts him ?
“I’m going around the block,” he grits out, marching past Taehyung, leaving the hybrid and his worries behind to drown in his own.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
It’s been two years since the virus swallowed the world. It tore through terrain and air, finding home in one hybrid after another. It ate at their soul until only the core remained; pure animalistic instinct. Humanity forgotten, the infected hybrids tore everything to shreds. Their beloved companions, owners, neighbours, everything. No one was safe. And to most of the population’s despair, the only way to survive was to annihilate the virus. Annihilate the hybrids.
Everything tumbled to pieces until only chaos remained. People turned against each other and their own, and the world divided into two. No one knew who to trust, and while the majority agreed it wasn’t the hybrids’ fault, precautions still came.
At first it was safe houses, to keep them contained and protected. But humankind was never made to fight the top of the food chain, no matter how hard they believed to be the ones on top. They were outnumbered, and with more and more hybrids turning feral, the world became a minefield. Population spread, people ran, and every hybrid would be killed on sight, feral or not. Naturally, to protect themselves, the hybrids returned the favour.
Jimin had wandered the forests by himself for months. He had lost track of his pack at the beginning of the scourge, so it was just him and the grumbling beast inside of him. It was too dangerous to leave the forest to look for them. He had no way of knowing where they went, or if they were alive at all.
Loneliness gnawed at his bones, and more often than not Jimin found himself wondering whether surviving was worth it. Would this ever end? What kind of world would be left?
A hunter found him eventually. No words were exchanged between them. The man had aimed for Jimin’s head the moment he caught wind of him. But while Jimin was at a disadvantage without a gun, he did have his knives. He had heard him approach from miles away, so while the bullet did find a home, it hadn’t been his heart. The hunter, however, hadn’t met a similar fate. Jimin had made it fast, a snap of the neck and it was done. But the guilt had found him all the same. Hand clamped around the gaping hole in his bicep, he’d slid deeper into the forest.
When Jeongguk found him, he’d been near delirious. The shirt Jimin had wrapped around his arm was drenched in blood, but Jimin didn’t have anything else on him to staunch the wound. The human had approached him carefully, hands beside his head in a sign of peace. The words he spoke had been a whirlpool to Jimin’s ears, undecipherable through the static.
Pretty , he’d thought as the world swirled around him. His eyes had fluttered shut. If this were the end, at least God had given him a sign.
The next time he woke, his fever had broken. There was a campfire nearby, and his arm was neatly cleaned and bandaged.
“You’re lucky I found you in time,” the stranger, Jeongguk, had said from where he was crouched near the fire. “Considered amputating your arm with that nasty infection.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Jimin had said, voice close to a growl.
It hadn’t fazed Jeongguk like it should have, like how all humans scuttered away at the sight of a hybrid. He’d simply finished roasting the bird he’d caught and handed it to Jimin as a peace offering, claiming he needed to eat if he didn’t want to faint again.
And the rest was history.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
It’s only after their shift that Jimin caves. He passes Jeongguk’s room on his way to the showers. The pull is too strong. If he doesn’t give in he might burst. Jimin soundlessly slips inside, leaving the door open a crack. Jeongguk is fast asleep, buried under a pile of blankets to keep the cold autumn air away. Jimin wonders how he’s going to survive winter if he’s already this cold.
In another world, Jimin would have crawled under the blankets with him; felt his smooth skin under his fingertips. Instead, he kneels beside the cot, taking a deep whiff. Jeongguk’s scent had always stood out to him, from the moment they met. Jimin hadn’t questioned it, too intrigued by the broad-shouldered, kind-eyed man. He hadn’t quite known what it meant back then, but in hindsight the signs were unmistakable.
Soft linen and a hint of lavender. Clean as soap, and yet so unmistakingly Jeongguk. It cleared Jimin’s head as much as it clouded it. A tender touch of peace in his horrid existence.
Jimin studies the soft hairs on Jeongguk’s neck, the golden skin peeking from underneath the blankets. The things he’d do to sink his teeth into him. To feel it break beneath his canines, to taste his blood seeping onto his tongue. To make him his. Theirs.
Jimin startles so hard he tumbles backwards onto his ass. He scrambles back, feet scuffing across the floor. He shouldn’t have come here. This was a bad idea. Fuck fuck fuck.
Yet he cannot bring himself to move. Too enthralled by the sight before him, by the scent clogging his pores. The beast inside of him howls his name. As if it’s the only word it knows.
Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk.
The rustling of blankets makes him freeze. Jeongguk shifts around, turning to his other side. For a moment Jimin fears he’s woken him up. He racks his brain to come up with an excuse as to why he’s here, but when Jeongguk’s face comes into view, his eyes are still closed. He smacks his lips and burrows deeper into his man-made cave.
The tension in Jimin’s shoulders eases, and he forces himself to take a deep breath and focus on his surroundings. It’s alright. He’s in control. He’s in control. But it isn’t just lavender or soft linen that meets him with every breath, there is a tinge of something else.
On hands and knees, Jimin draws closer, confused. It’s a scent he knows all too well, and isn’t used to swirling somewhere… else. Following his nose, Jimin carefully settles beside the bed, hand curling around the top blanket wrapped around Jeongguk’s frame. He peels layer after layer away from Jeongguk’s sleeping form, careful not to wake him, until he reaches a brown, ragged fabric hidden between Jeongguk’s chest and the sheets. Jimin’s heart stutters.
So that’s where it went.
Jimin swallows, fingers trailing along the torn material. It went missing a few weeks ago, right after his rut. He’d expected it back with the rest of his laundry, only for it to never return.
His scent is faint, thoroughly washed out and evaporated after seemingly many nights between Jeongguk’s arms. Jimin doesn’t know how to feel. Part of him is preening, the other is terrified. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Do humans even know what this means? Is Jeongguk not a human after all? What the fuck is going on?
Jimin doesn’t know how long he sits there, simply staring at the man holding his pelt to his chest as if it’s his most prized possession. It makes him feel some type of way.
Like belonging.
Shit, this is bad.
In a moment of weakness, he pushes close, forehead falling on the edge of the bed, just beneath Jeongguk’s elbow, close to his stomach.
“What are you doing to me,” he mumbles, shoulders hunching.
After soaking his lungs with Jeongguk’s scent in another deep breath, Jimin pulls back. His fingers dance above Jeongguk’s face, hesitant to touch. He strokes a wild strand of hair behind the human’s ear. His fingers burn at the touch. Jeongguk’s hair is as soft as he remembers, a petal in the wind.
Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow. Jimin quickly pulls back and gets up. Without looking back, he rushes towards the door and slips through. A whisper of his name catches his ears. It’s so soft, any other person would have missed it.
Jimin drags himself to his bedroom, leaving his heart with his pelt.
The next morning he slips into Jeongguk’s room during breakfast. He pulls his pelt from between the heap of blankets and draws it into his chest. The wisest thing to do is to take it back to his room, lock it away and put an end to this. But what harm can it do?
They had been close, after all. If this is what Jeongguk needs in exchange for the distance Jimin put between them, who is Jimin to deny him?
Jimin thoroughly coats the fabric in his scent, rubbing it along his wrists and his neck. A little goes a long way, and if this brings Jeongguk comfort, Jimin won’t take that away from him too. He’s hurt him enough as it is.
When he’s done, Jimin tucks the pelt under Jeongguk’s pillow, hoping it’ll leave a hint of his scent there too. This should be enough. It’s all he can offer. He doesn’t want to think about the consequences, about what Jeongguk will do when he finds out.
But he’s avoided him well enough up till now, how hard can it be?
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
For the next few days, Jeongguk doesn’t reach out to him. Doesn’t even spare him a glance. Not whilst Jimin is looking anyway. Jeongguk had stopped asking Jimin to come into the forest with him for harvest weeks ago, but for some reason, seeing him leave with Hoseok by his side today touches a vulnerable snare.
“Put that mug down before you break it,” Taehyung says from his left, pulling the cup of tea from between Jimin’s trembling hands to put it back on the table. Jimin hisses when some of the liquid drips onto his skin, flashing Taehyung a glare. His friend glares right back. “Should have put it down when I told you to.”
Jimin snarls, hissing when Taehyung hits him across the head.
“Behave.”
Stupid lynx.
Yoongi hands him a napkin from the other side of the table with a sympathetic smile. Jimin takes it, grumbling. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Can’t help it. You make a pitiful sight.”
Jimin flips him off. So much for decent friends.
“No one’s forbidden you to talk to him, you know,” the hybrid says. His sleek, black tail swishes idly behind him, and Jimin follows the movement in a desperate attempt to calm himself down.
“ I did,” he mutters, reaching for his mug again once he’s flexed the anger out of his fingers.
“I told you he is torturing himself,” Taehyung says to Yoongi, lifting a brow.
The panther looks unimpressed, reaching for another serving of scrambled eggs as he shrugs. “Never said I didn’t agree.”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “I’m right here, you know.”
“Oh, we know,” Seokjin pipes in from another table. “We can smell you in the hallway at this point.”
“You’re not even a fucking hybrid, you ass.”
“I don’t need to be.”
Jimin groans, burying his face in his hands. Maybe he should just lock himself up in one of the cellars and let the beast inside of him take over. If he’s not torturing himself, his friends will. Better get it over with.
A tug on his ear pulls him from his palms with a snarl. He shoots daggers at Taehyung with his eyes, flattening his ears on top of his head to keep them away from his friend’s nimble fingers.
“Don’t be dramatic,” the lynx tuts. “Here, have another slice. You’ll be even more insufferable if you’re hungry too.” He drops a piece of toast on Jimin’s plate, followed by a scoop of soggy beans. Canned food all tastes the same at this point, but it never gets less disgusting. Sadly, it’s the best they could do with the current resources.
They’ll need to make a trip to the city soon. Jimin knows he’s next on duty, and it rattles his nerves. The last thing he wants is to leave the base behind, or Jeongguk out of his sight to be precise. He is already restless as it is, distancing himself even further will definitely put him on edge. Though his friends would argue he already is.
The cellar becomes more and more inviting.
A ruckus outside silences the hall. Everyone is instantly alert, hands reaching for weapons under the table.
“A pack of coyotes,” someone calls from the hallway, followed by rapid footsteps. “Feral.”
Jimin is on his feet before Taehyung can pull him back to his seat. He’s about to tumble through the back door when a hand grabs his arm. He turns around with a snarl, claws out and fangs pricking his bottom lip.
Namjoon doesn’t flinch, simply tightens his hold on Jimin’s arm. “I think it’s best for you to stay inside.”
“Like hell I am,” Jimin barks, trying to pull free from Namjoon’s grip but failing. The man is relentless.
“Jeongguk is fine,” he says calmly. Jimin is about to yell some more, but Namjoon silences him with a single gesture. “He and Hoseok are the ones who rang the alarm. They are back inside.”
Relief floods his senses and all the fight leaves Jimin’s body. His shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He forces the blinding red coating his vision away. Jeongguk is safe.
Namjoon studies him for a moment, a frown pulling at his brows. “Meet me at my office,” he says, finally releasing Jimin from his iron grip.
“I’m fine,” Jimin says, but even he doesn’t believe it. He sighs at Namjoon’s unimpressed look. “I’ll see you there.”
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
His vitals are the same. Nothing to worry about. Which is unexplainable, and ironically worries them more. There is no reason for Jimin to go feral yet , so why does he feel like he’s about to crawl out of his own skin?
“I think you know what to do,” Namjoon says, rolling his chair back from his computer and turning around to face him. Jimin doesn’t like the look on his face, nor the words he speaks next. “He won’t mind.”
Anxiety spikes in Jimin’s veins. “Joon, I can’t.”
Namjoon’s face softens, and he reaches over to put a comforting hand on Jimin’s thigh. “You won’t hurt him, if that’s what you’re scared of.”
“But I will ,” Jimin says exasperatedly. “Maybe not now, but in the future. I can’t risk it.”
“You’re risking more now by not listening to your instincts,” Namjoon says gently, that sympathetic look Jimin hates more than anything back on his face. “They’ll drive you insane.”
Jimin is about to retort something back when the door to Namjoon’s office swings open. They both look up, and Jimin’s heart sinks into his stomach when his eyes fall on the familiar figure in the door opening.
“Hyeri’s vitals are dropping,” Jeongguk says to Namjoon. His eyes, however, are stuck on Jimin. “We need to try the antidote to stabilise her before it’s too late.”
Namjoon is beside him in a wink, forcing Jeongguk’s eyes to shift to him. He hands the taller man the papers in his hand, and waits as he scans through the documents.
“Well, shit,” Namjoon says.
“Yeah.”
The doctor hands the papers back to Jeongguk, glancing quickly at Jimin. “Stay with him for a bit. I’ll be right back.”
“Namjoon,” Jimin growls warningly, but the man is already out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The silence is deafening. Like an itch in his ear he cannot reach. They stare at each other longer than is appropriate, but no matter how hard he tries, Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from the only person he wants to see. It’s not a want, it’s a need.
After a while, Jeongguk seems to shake himself out of his own stupor, taking a step closer. And another, until he’s within reachable distance. Jimin doesn’t dare breathe.
“Are you okay?” Jeongguk asks, voice soft as the wind.
“Are you?” Jimin counters within the same breath. He clears his throat, explaining himself when Jeongguk shoots him a confused look. “Heard you found the coyotes.”
“Oh,” Jeongguk says. “Yeah. Hoseok smelled them before they even crossed our borders.”
Jimin’s skin prickles at the other hybrid’s name. “Like the good guard dog he is,” he scoffs to himself, shaking his head in embarrassment when he realises he said that out loud.
If Jeongguk heard him, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he takes another step closer, and Jimin’s muscles tighten.
Jeongguk lifts a hand, hesitating midway. He wriggles his fingers unconsciously, pulling them into a loose fist as if to stop himself. “Can… can I touch you?”
Jimin stiffens, eyes darting everywhere around the room except to Jeongguk. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re agitated.”
“I’m aware.”
Jeongguk sighs, hand falling back along his body. The sour scent of disappointment, of rejection, wafts through the air. Jimin bites his lip. He’s such a fucking dick. The beast inside of him howls, slamming against Jimin’s ribcage as a punishment, because how dare he.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk mutters, taking a step back.
Jimin blinks. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have.” Jeongguk turns around, hurrying towards the door to get away from here.
Jimin isn’t sure whether it’s guilt or desperation that makes him call out, but he can’t let Jeongguk leave the room. Not after he’s hurt him. Again. He can’t… he– “Wait!”
Jeongguk pauses, hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t move, not closer or further away, just remains where he is. His voice is small when he speaks. So small. “What did I do?”
A stone anchors itself in Jimin’s chest, heavy and painful. It chains him to the spot, rips at his insides, ready to tear him to shreds. “Jeongguk–”
Jeongguk swings around, and inside, Jimin howls at the sight of him. “Did I upset you in any way?” he asks, a glimmer in his eyes that looks an awful lot like tears. “Was it the pelt?”
Jimin has him between his arms in a heartbeat, pulling him close to his chest. Jeongguk sinks into him with a shuddering sigh, hands gripping tightly at the shirt on Jimin’s back.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jimin says, face buried in Jeongguk’s neck. He’s soft. So, so goddamned soft.
Jeongguk is stronger than he looks, years of training and discipline sculpting his body. He holds Jimin like he’s holding the world. Like he cannot afford to let go. “Then why are you avoiding me?”
Unable to find the words, too scared to actually lose him, Jimin finds himself tongue-tied. He shakes his head, a shiver trailing down his spine as Jeongguk holds him closer. “I can’t–”
Jimin swallows the whine pressing at his throat, pushing it down the best he can. He must control himself, he must keep it inside. If he lets it out he’ll lose control, and he can’t afford that. Not with Jeongguk in his arms. Especially not with his mouth against his neck.
“Talk to me,” Jeongguk murmurs. “Alpha.”
Within a breath Jimin has himself flattened against the wall on the opposite side of the small room, putting as much distance between them as he physically can. It’s not enough, never enough. His heart is hammering in his chest, screaming.
And Alpha stretches his claws, awakened at a single call.
Jeongguk’s eyes are wide, shocked, and he takes a step towards him.
“ Don’t come any closer,” Jimin growls. The strain in his voice is so evident that it makes him wince. This is bad. Really, really bad.
“Jimin,” Jeongguk stutters. “Fuck, I’m sorry I–”
Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the claws in his chest. “I think it’s best if you leave,” he says. “Now.”
As Jeongguk scrambles to get out of the room, a part of Jimin shatters. When the door closes his knees buckle and he sinks to the floor with his head in his trembling hands. It’s how Namjoon finds him an hour later, completely out of it. The doctor wordlessly hands him a blanket, and sits beside him on the floor until he returns back to himself.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Life becomes hell after their encounter in Namjoon’s office. No matter how hard Jimin tries to put his focus elsewhere, his heart bleeds for the man. Ever since Jeongguk addressed his alpha personally, there’s no holding him back. He’s coming closer and closer to the surface, and Jimin isn’t sure how long he can keep the authority. He’d asked Namjoon to end him, begged even, but the man had flat-out refused.
“You know our beliefs, Jimin,” he’d patiently explained over and over again. “No being is truly lost as long as they have free will. We won’t act until it’s truly necessary.”
“I will tear him to shreds if you don’t!” Jimin yells, hands slamming on Namjoon’s desk between them. “You need him more than me!”
“You will shred yourself before you lay a finger on him, Jimin,” Namjoon says calmly. “We all know you’d never hurt him.”
Jimin screams, frustration tearing through his throat, and stomps out of the office.
His wolf is agitated, not due to Jimin’s temper, but due to Jeongguk’s absence. The human had gone out on scout patrol with Seokjin and a handful of hybrids earlier this morning. Their supplies were running dry, and going to the city was their absolute last resort. If their surroundings gave up on them they’d have no other choice, but for now they tried to stall as long as possible.
The remainder of the day flies by painfully slow. Jimin helps stock up on wood for the fires, running into one or two feral hybrids along the way. With every creature he kills, Jimin’s heart hardens. It’s a matter of survival at this point, it’s either them or him. And Jimin had never met another hybrid that was fine with turning into a beast. They all feared it more than death, and while Jimin mourned who they once were, he also knew that there was nothing of them left in the bodies he killed.
“I swear to fucking God, when will you start bringing your gun on excursions,” Taehyung grumbles as he cleans a wound on Jimin’s thigh. “It’s like you want to be turned.”
“She didn’t bite me, Taehyung,” Jimin says with a roll of his eyes. “Calm down.”
Taehyung swats at his face with the blood-clad cloth in his hand. “She could have, you fucking mutt. Who the fuck is going to console Jeongguk when you die, huh?”
Darkness spreads before Jimin’s eyes. “Don’t–”
“You know I’m right!”
“Speaking of Jeongguk,” Seokjin intercepts before Jimin can claw Taehyung’s eyes out, “We ran into a group of wolves. Think that could be your pack, Jimin?”
The world freezes over. All logical thought is strained from his head. Jimin’s voice is deadly cold when he speaks, all emotion evaporated. “Where is he?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “He’s fine , Jimin. We agreed to meet up with them later to exchange some information on their surroundings. They didn’t want to merge.”
Jimin is on his feet before anyone can get a hold on him, crowding into Seokjin’s face.
“ Where is he?”
Jimin’s voice thunders through the room, silencing all the chatter in the hospital ward. The tension cuts at his throat, but he needs to know. Needs to see for himself whether Jeongguk is alright.
“How should I know?” Seokjin says, but the attitude has disappeared from his voice. He’s awfully timid. “Try his room?”
Jimin is out of the ward within moments, ignoring Taehyung’s yells of having to finish wrapping him up. Wound be damned.
Jeongguk is not in his room, neither is he in the office. Jimin’s wolf becomes more restless by the minute, Jimin isn’t sure how it’s even possible at this point. All he knows is that he needs to find Jeongguk fast, before he actually crawls out of his own skin.
He finds him in the lab, bent over a bunch of files. His glasses are stuck between his messy curls, a deep frown tugging on his thick brows. He yelps when Jimin twists him around with both arms, scanning over his body for injuries.
“What the– Jimin?”
“Are you hurt anywhere?” Jimin asks, lifting one of Jeongguk’s arms and then the other. “Did they touch you?”
He smells of the woods and something unfamiliar Jimin can’t quite pinpoint. It’s driving him crazy.
“You mean the wolves?” Jeongguk asks, letting Jimin fret over him. He dutifully turns his back to Jimin when the hybrid signals at him to turn around. “They didn’t hurt me. They were very kind, actually.”
Jimin grumbles under his breath, but keeps his words to himself. Wolves are never just kind. Not to humans.
Jimin sinks to his haunches to check Jeongguk’s legs, ignoring the deep flush that coats the man’s cheeks. “What did they look like? Did they have any tattoos?”
“Not that I know of,” Jeongguk answers, tapping his pen to his lips in thought. “They all had the same earring though. Some kind of spike?”
Not his pack then. It doesn’t ring a bell either. When he deems his check-up complete, Jimin lifts back up to his full height, meeting Jeongguk’s curious eyes. “Don’t meet with them.”
Jeongguk splutters. “What? Why?”
“It’s dangerous,” Jimin states plainly. “I don’t know who they are. Wolves aren’t fond of humankind.”
Jeongguk smirks, cocking a brow. “I noticed.”
Jimin grumbles to himself. “Not like that.”
After studying Jimin for a moment, Jeongguk lowers his pen to the table, taking a careful step closer. He brings a hand to Jimin’s shoulder, and Jimin fights the urge to jump him. But he can’t find it in himself to move away either. He craves Jeongguk’s touch like caffeine.
“What are you so afraid of?” Jeongguk asks softly.
Whether he means the wolves or something else entirely, Jimin can’t really tell. Nevertheless, his answer remains the same. His eyes fall shut, brows drawing together as he whispers, “Everything.”
Jeongguk’s touch is electrifying. As if it goes straight through Jimin’s skin and clothes, into his soul. He drinks in Jeongguk’s scent, soft, soft lavender. Fuck, he misses him. Needs him like the ground he walks on, the air he breathes.
“You’re hurt.”
Jimin’s eyes flutter open to find Jeongguk’s worried gaze. He’s staring at Jimin’s thigh, where dried blood coats the tear in his trousers.
“It’s nothing,” he tries, but Jeongguk pushes him into his desk chair and disappears into the backroom to grab his supplies.
Jimin lets his head fall back with a groan. This is going to be a problem. It’s already hard to keep himself in check around the human, let alone if he’s touching his thighs. The thought alone could make him go feral.
When Jeongguk returns he’s gotten rid of his lab coat, the arms of his black, skin-tight turtleneck shoved up to his elbows. The belt around his equally black trousers accentuates his slim waist, and Jimin grabs onto the seat of the chair with both hands to keep himself in check.
“What happened?” Jeongguk asks as he sinks through his knees before him. The vision of the man between Jimin’s legs like that makes his thighs clench. Fuck.
“Ran into a bear hybrid. Nicked me with her claw before I, uh…” Jimin hesitates, knowing how much Jeongguk grieves the way things are, “...overpowered her.”
Jeongguk blows on the wound after disinfecting it with alcohol, making all the hairs on Jimin’s body stand on end. He sifts through all the random pockets of his brain to find the most horrid picture he can manage, focussing on the organs splattered across the forest bedding as Jeongguk takes care of him.
“Please bring a gun,” Jeongguk utters, carefully wrapping a bandage around Jimin’s thigh and fastening it with a few plasters. The dance of his fingers along his skin makes Jimin’s thighs tingle. “I know it makes you feel inhumane, but I don’t think I can handle it if you–” He swallows tightly, hands crumpling the remaining bandage between his fingers. “If something happens to you.”
If you get turned.
Jimin cards a hand through Jeongguk’s messy, dark hair, cupping the nape of his neck to tilt his head towards him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, thumb running along the human’s skin.
Jeongguk stares at him with such intense eyes that Jimin cannot look away. He’s plastered to the sight of him, to what he’s trying to convey, that the world around them falls away. His ears twitch atop his head, and Jeongguk’s eyes flicker up to them with an equally intense gaze.
He rises without a word, forcing Jimin to now crane his head to look at him. Jeongguk takes the tip of Jimin’s ear between his fingertips, softly rubbing the skin just above the two rings pierced through the shell.
A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine, thighs clenching together to stop himself from getting hard, but it’s no use. The damage has already been done.
“They reminded me of you,” Jeongguk murmurs, fingertips sliding along the shell of Jimin’s wolf ear. “Because they had earrings too.”
“It’s not that uncommon,” Jimin says, voice strained. “You humans pierce your ears too.”
“That’s true.”
Just a taste. Maybe he can have just one taste. It might settle his wolf, push him back into a dormant state if Jimin gives it what it wants. What he wants. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
“Jeongguk,” he croaks, voice deeper than usual.
The human lets go of his ear, hand falling on top of Jimin’s shoulder. He gives Jimin a questioning look, head tilting slightly to the side like it does whenever he’s confused.
Jimin’s hands find the backs of Jeongguk’s thighs, pulling him between his legs. Jeongguk comes willingly, sliding his other arm around his shoulders too. His lips are slightly parted, ready to welcome Jimin’s in between. One of his hands curls around Jimin’s neck and he leans down, eyes fluttering shut.
The door of the lab slams open, and they jump apart as if burned. A dishevelled Namjoon stands in the doorway, shoulders taut, eyes wild.
“It’s Hyeri,” he says, fingers clamping onto the doorknob. “We’re losing her.”
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Jimin stays put in the hallway. One hour passes, two, three. When the door to the cellars finally opens and Namjoon steps out, it takes one look at him for Jimin’s heart to sink. The deep shadows under his eyes make him look old. When their eyes meet, Namjoon shakes his head. He clamps a hand on Jimin’s shoulder and gives him a soft squeeze.
“Don’t leave him there by himself,” is all he says, before slinking away in the direction of his private rooms.
He finds Jeongguk beside her on the floor. Hyeri’s head is in his lap, and he softly cards his fingers through her wild hair. Death hangs onto her limp form, eyes void of their usual spark. The sight of her hits Jimin straight in the chest, and he sinks down beside Jeongguk on the ground.
They sit in silence for a while, paying their respects. Hyeri had been one of the first to volunteer in case she got bitten, to help them find a cure. Now, she is one of many they lost. While her cheerful presence had been long gone, the memory of her remained within her eyes. Jeongguk had gone to hell and beyond to save her, but that journey had come to an end today, where they finally put her to rest.
“You tried everything you could,” Jimin whispers gently, hands twitching to reach out.
This time he doesn’t fight the urge. Not when Jeongguk looks this close to breaking himself. He wraps him up between his arms, pulling him against his chest. The human’s already trembling shoulders start shaking, and Jimin lays his head between the mess of Jeongguk’s curls, closing his eyes. He holds him as he cries, gently stroking his back. Alpha is awfully quiet, respecting this vulnerable moment as one that’s only shared between him and Jeongguk.
When the lab assistants arrive to take her away, Jeongguk presses a soft kiss to her forehead, promising to reunite her with the forest first thing in the morning. Jimin’s arm is firm around his waist as they lift her onto a stretcher, covering her body with a sheet.
It takes some bribing to pull Jeongguk away from the lab. He’s desperate to find out where he went wrong, to make things right, even when he knows he can’t. Hyeri won’t be coming back, even if he finds the antidote now. And no matter how cruel it is, Jeongguk needs to hear it. Needs to retract his claws from his work and sleep to be able to survive tomorrow.
Jimin wipes his helpless, angry tears, and holds him when he threatens to collapse. “Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers in Jeongguk’s hair, hand trailing up and down his spine.
When they reach Jeongguk’s chambers, Jimin doesn’t have any energy left to make the right decisions. It takes one pleading look from Jeongguk to follow him into his room. They crawl into Jeongguk’s bed together, ever the mess of endless blankets. It’s a tight fit, but it all fades away when Jimin wraps him into his arms.
His wolf remains silent, almost as if it’s asleep. But Jimin doesn’t trust it, not with how it’s behaved the past month. It might be respectful now, but Jimin prays he doesn’t have to fight it when the morning comes.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
They burn the remains of Hyeri’s body in one of the pits, surrounded by her favourite flowers. Jeongguk performs the ceremony she taught him, precise and delicate in every step he takes. The fox had been separated from her family in the early stages of the scourge just like Jimin was. It had been an easy thing to bond over.
They’d been close, the three of them. Back when they met, Jimin and Jeongguk had still been a unit, stuck together after merging with Namjoon’s cause. He’d been the first human Hyeri had warmed up to after joining their group a few months later. Jeongguk had always asked the right questions, and Hyeri had always answered dutifully.
Now they bid her goodbye as one of their own. While no one wanted any of this to happen, they all shared the gratitude of finding one another in the gravel of this world. Their shared humanity and trust was all they had left. It’s deeply cherished, especially in moments like these.
Once Jeongguk falls back into his spot beside Jimin, the hybrid slides an arm around his waist. They’d been attached to the hip after waking up this morning, and Jimin had felt strangely at peace. They watch as the flames lick higher and higher along the beams of wood, catching fire one by one.
It’s a risk they’re taking–to make a fire this big. But they’d all agreed to respect everyone’s final wishes, no matter the consequences. Some of the group had volunteered to watch their borders during the ceremony, out of respect for those who were close to Hyeri. It’s the least they can do for her, after she sacrificed a lonely death for science.
Not everyone signs up. Not even half of the group. Most sign the form for annihilation, and are killed in a manner of choice before the virus swallows them whole. It’s a silent respect within the group, for everyone to make their own decision.
At first, Jimin had offered himself up for research, knowing how important it was to find a cure. But these days, he’s not sure whether he’s made the right choice. If Hyeri turning has already had such a big impact on Jeongguk, would he even survive Jimin’s? He isn’t stupid, he knows the connection they have goes deeper than friendship. The last thing he wants is to put him through more pain. He can’t do that to him.
When he signs his withdrawal form that night, Namjoon doesn’t question him. The look in his eyes is conflicted, but laced with respect. It’s a mutual understanding that while they all want Jimin to live, they cannot risk losing Jeongguk in the process. Not when he’s one of the best scientists they have.
“Don’t tell him,” Jimin says when he hands Namjoon the form. “He’ll refuse.”
“I know,” Namjoon says, pain laced through his voice as he tucks the envelope away in his lab coat. “I’ll take care of it.”
I’ll be the one to do it, when the time comes.
“Thank you.”
When Jimin slips into bed, Jeongguk is already fast asleep. He holds him close to his chest, basking in soft linen and lavender. Just one more night, he tells himself. Just one more night, and he’ll leave him be.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•