Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

October  

Yoongi’s nipping at his scent gland even though he's unable to produce a scent. Jimin keeps pushing him away. “You know you can’t even leave a ghost of a mark.” He puts his whole hand to the alpha’s face, smushes it into the pillow, and gives a heavy sigh.  

He’s naked beneath him in the hotel bed, just a light sheet is covering his lower body. He’s still got the ‘just fucked’ flush in his face.  

Yoongi gives a deep huff. “Fucking you is so nice but being unable to leave marks drives me crazy every time.”  

Jimin brings a knee up to hold. It’s getting late. He should go soon so he doesn’t get too tired and fall asleep in the rented room. He’s never once stayed the night. “That’s the price we pay for fucking in secret.”  

Yoongi nods, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing two cigarettes out of the pack. Right, secret. Because if anyone found out, especially Yoongi’s father, they’d both be dead. “Smoke before you leave.”  

“Who said I was leaving?” Jimin gives him a raised brow.  

“You’re getting fidgety, you’ve changed positions three times in the last minute. You always get antsy before you go.”  

He lights the cigarette for Jimin, like he always does. He takes a deep inhale, blows out a stream of white smoke into the bedroom air. “My legs get restless when I’m tired,” he admits. “Kinda hurts.”  

He thinks it might be restless leg syndrome, or just the fact that he does so much dancing. He’s only able to see Yoongi after a show so his body’s already tired by the point they get together. Everything they do pushes each of his muscles to their very wits' end.  

“Your eyes get hazy too, a little like you’re high, when you’re sleepy.”  

Jimin gives him a weird look. They’ve been hooking up for almost two years now, he can’t really remember when the whole thing started. They’d been teasing each other for years before that. Yoongi became one of the managers of Dandelion four years before, which didn’t mean much. All the dancers knew it was a holding place to get his foot in the door.  

Most nights he still spent his time at “work” drinking with his friends, watching the omegas dance and throwing back shots until his driver or bodyguard or someone drove him home. None of the Dandelion workers really understood what Seokjin’s real role was. They just knew they hated the arrogant alpha.  

Jimin had run into Yoongi in the back hall, heading to the staff-only bathroom. He was in between shows and really had to use it. He’d walked in without knocking and stumbled upon Yoongi zipping up his jeans.  

“Oh,” Jimin gasped, a little exaggerated. When Yoongi turned around, he was already looking at the omega the way he always did. Like he wanted to devour him. “Sorry.”  

“Are you?” Yoongi stepped away from the urinal to wash his hands. He kept his eyes on Jimin in the mirror.  

Jimin knew how he looked, with only lace beneath his robe, shorts cut off at the thigh. His skin was glistening from the glittery sheen Taehyung had sprayed on him.  

“How long do you have until your next set?” He asked. He’d turned and leaned against the counter.  

“Fifteen minutes.” Jimin eyed the urinal. He really had to fucking pee. He looked back to the alpha.  

“I can step out…,” he started to walk past him and Jimin caught the moment he allowed his deep scent to spark with desire.  

Without even thinking, he caught his hand. “Wait.”  

Yoongi turned and gave Jimin the same sly grin he gave when he would give the workers directions. “Dance pretty and don’t let anyone get near you,” is what he said every night. He truly didn’t know his purpose at Dandelion, but they all loved having him around more than his father, Min Junso.  

Yoongi looked down at the hand Jimin held, his fingers were already trailing up the alpha’s arm. "My father says pretty things should always remain untouched,” Yoongi’s eyes were hooded and dark, “but you deserve to be touched."  

Jimin's tongue grazed over the bottoms of his top teeth. "Then touch me." 

It was a flurry of movement from there. He was pressed to the wall, to the door, bent over the counter of the sink. Yoongi’s teeth stung as they nipped into Jimin’s bare shoulder, down his back where he had intricate moons tattooed.  

“Don’t leave a single mark,” Jimin said firmly. “Your father will kill me.”  

Yoongi chuckled just before pulling Jimin’s tiny shorts down. “Now we can’t have that, can we?”  

It became a normal arrangement from there. It was hard at first. Junso was mostly still around as he didn’t really trust Yoongi to run the club on his own. At the time, his father felt Yoongi was still far too young to manage the two dozen omega dancers. But they found ways to meet up when he was out of town, in the early hours of the morning after the club was closed, and on the highly rare occasion sometime during the day if they knew they wouldn’t be seen together.  

Much hadn’t changed over the years, except Junso was expanding and more at the club was beginning to fall on the young alpha’s shoulders.  

“Are you calling a car, or do you want me to drop you off at your place?” Yoongi asks when they’re both dressed. As usual, Jimin had swapped his club clothes for something comfier just before coming over.  

“Junso is in town. I’ll call a car,” he pulls out his phone, swiping until the rideshare app opens.  

Yoongi laughs. “It’s not like he’s going to see us together, it’s four in the morning. We’re not even in either of our neighborhoods.”  

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. You know I’m not taking any chances.”  

There had been a few close calls over the last two years, but not enough that had ever made anyone suspicious enough to put two and two together.  

Yoongi doesn’t walk him out when the car arrives. He doesn’t kiss him at the door or even tell him when they’ll get together next. It’s how it always goes.  

But he does stand at the front door of the hotel room and watch until Jimin gets to the elevator. Then he calls his name just as the doors open. Jimin turns and Yoongi’s giving him that smile again, the one where Yoongi finds something so amusing.  

“Hm?” He makes his voice light the way he knows he likes it.  

“Happy Birthday!” he says before shutting the hotel door.  

November  

It's the first snowfall of the year. Jimin loves winter. It doesn’t often snow heavily in Busan, a place he tries hard to forget. Winter helps with that. As the flakes drift slowly to the ground, each of them unique in shape and size, he wishes they weren’t ephemeral. Daegu is experiencing a cold wave, but the ground is still not cold enough for anything to stick.  

The snow won’t stick to him either, he feels a heat thrumming beneath his skin. He coughs lightly. He’s coming down with something. He takes one last pull from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground, stubbing it underneath his boot.  

“Jiminie!” Taehyung’s head pops out from the side door, a bright and boxy smile on his face. “It’s almost time, you need to let me finish your hair.”  

Jimin takes one last deep breath of the cool night air before turning on his heel. “Coming, Tae,” he tries to make his voice sound cheery.  

Taehyung tsks when Jimin sits down in the chair. There’s a flurry of omegas surrounding them, each face captured in mirrors as they fawn over their own features. Jimin’s the only one lucrative enough to have someone assigned to do his hair and makeup.  

“The Lilac of Daegu must keep up appearances,” Junso has always said.  

Jimin’s happy he isn’t around this weekend. Dandelion always feels more relaxed when the owner isn’t in attendance.  

Taehyung frowns at Jimin in the mirror. His long, perfectly manicured fingers run through Jimin’s light hair. “You got it wet from the snow,” he sighs. “All of my perfect work, ruined.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s going to get messed up when I dance anyway, Tae, it’s fine. Don’t try too hard tonight.”  

Taehyung started out at Dandelion as a dancer just a few months after Jimin. He wasn’t perfect at it, compared to the other omegas who’d been working for the club for years. But he was alluring and entertaining. Alphas and omegas alike came for his theatrical performances.  

He and Jimin bonded instantly, the two youngest in the entire club. They shared stories, Jimin gave him dance lessons, while Taehyung played artist with his face. A year after Taehyung arrived, Jimin went out onto his stage, donned in rhinestones that matched his hair and the lighting in his songs. His customers went wild as he sparkled through each twirl.  

“Who did this to you?” Junso gripped his chin, gesturing to his face and the glitter sticking to his body. Jimin had chewed on his lip, worrying a line into it. His eyes flicked over to Taehyung’s stage, the sparkles on his deep skin catching his eye. “I did,” he lied.  

They were in the middle of the club, so Junso couldn’t punish him thoroughly for untruths. He held his jaw tighter, a smile plastered quickly on his face. He appeared as though he was congratulating Jimin for this evening’s thick crowd. “Don’t lie to me,” he said between gritted teeth.  

Jimin bit back a gasp as the tips of his fingers dug deeper into his flesh. “Taehyung,” he blinked tears quickly from his eyes.  

Junso turned, watching Taehyung spin around the pole. He landed less gracefully than most. “Hmm,” he hummed, letting Jimin’s face go. “Perhaps his talents could be useful elsewhere.”  

Taehyung’s duty in the club was changed to stylist the following day. His main dancer was Jimin. Junso ordered him to make sure that the omega looked perfect for his stage each evening. “Devote all of your energy into making him more unique than the others,” he’d said.  

Taehyung had been excited. With dreams of being an art student, Jimin became his canvas. Each night he challenged himself with creating new looks. He used makeup to highlight the omega’s light ochre eyes. His jewels would be the exact color of the corset he’d be wearing.  

Their bond grew stronger as they spent more time together. “Jimin, I saw this omega wearing this piece online,” he’d pull up a model from social media. “I think I can recreate this look,” and he did, more beautiful than the picture had shown.  

“Don’t try too hard?” Taehyung scoffs. “It’s not within a Capricorn’s nature to try anything other than hard.”  

Jimin rolls his eyes again. Taehyung reaches down beneath the makeup counter to grab a blow dryer. He turns it on and begins redrying Jimin’s hair. Jimin doesn’t think he needs it, but he allows himself to close his eyes for a moment, beginning the process of getting into the Lilac persona.  

Taehyung has had the dryer on for one minute when Jimin feels like he’s overheating. Warmth flushes beneath his skin, too hot and nauseating. His eyes open. He watches his face visibly go pale in the mirror before him. He sits up, angling away from Taehyung and the blow dryer.  

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung shuts off the dryer and asks.  

Jimin grits his teeth and pushes the sick feeling in his gut away, giving a small shake of his head. He huffs. “I’m fine,” he swallows and repeats it to himself. “Just hot, I think I’m getting a fever.”  

Taehyung comes around the other side of the chair, spinning Jimin so he can analyze his face. “You do look pale,” he sticks the back of his hand out to rest against Jimin’s forehead.  

Taehyung hisses. “Fuck, Jimin, you’re burning up,” he steps away, shaking his hand from the too hot contact.  

Jimin wets his lips with his tongue. “I’ll be fine. I think it’s just a winter cold, weather change and all. I’ll take some ibuprofen, can you go find me some?” He reaches forward and grabs his water bottle from the counter.  

Taehyung eyes him. “Maybe you should just go home and rest?” 

Jimin almost chokes. “No?” His voice is too loud, a few of the other omega dancers in the room turn towards him. He lowers. “I’ve never missed a night, not in all the years I’ve been here. Junso would have my head.”  

“But he’s not here,” Taehyung whispers. “Just yell Yoongi-ssi you need the night off. He would let you.” 

Jimin sits forward and peers at himself in the mirror. There’s still a sick feeling pooling in his warm belly and his face hasn’t returned to its normal color. But he needs to be on stage in thirty minutes. He tries to avoid contact with Yoongi at work unless it’s desperately necessary. “Tae, I can’t. Please, ibuprofen. I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll go home as soon as my stage is finished.”  

Taehyung hesitates. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this at all. But Jimin is stubborn so he just sighs. “I’ll be right back.”  

Jimin swallows four pills with water that Taehyung returns with. “Make me pretty, babe,” he purrs with a smile. Lilac has come out to play.  

Taehyung works to cover the pallor of his skin with concealer and foundation. Extra gems are applied to distract from Jimin’s complexion. The heat beneath his skin doesn’t fade, something he doesn’t mention to Taehyung. But each time he touches his face, placing glue and rhinestones one by one, Jimin can tell he feels it.  

He slips out of his robe and sweats, wishing desperately to stay naked. The dressing room air attempts to cool him. He pulls a silk-two piece, a mesh featured robe that matches. Each item is light in weight but still bothers his sensitive skin.  

“How many minutes until I go on?” he asks Taehyung. He tries to stand impossibly still, there are beads of sweat gathering at the small of his back.  

“Five,” Taehyung says. “I hear Ye-ji’s final track now.” He’s looking at Jimin with worry in his eyes. “You can still ask to go home, it’s not too late.” 

Jimin shakes his head. “I’ll be right back, just one more smoke,” he slips out the back door before Taehyung can protest.  

He welcomes the chill at once. The alleyway is closed off on each side, brick walls piled up high on each end. He’s lucky, it means no one can see him when he bends over and lets himself groan out in pain.  

He’s getting worse. The heat is radiating from the epicenter of his belly, tight and hot. He takes deep gulps of the air, thinking that if he forces it in, he’ll cool off.  

It doesn’t work. There’s a lump in his throat he can’t swallow. His stomach swoops and the heat slices through him. Jimin bends over again and gags. This is not a winter cold.  

“Jimin-ah!” Taehyung’s voice brings him out of his miserable state.  

He springs up, pressing the sick feeling down. He touches the earring dangling on the left side. “I thought I dropped it,” he lies easily to Tae as he slips through the backdoor.  

Taehyung eyes him but doesn’t press further. “Can you do this?”  

Jimin gives his best dazzling smile. He’s been doing this for years. Lilac was born out of a need to be something, someone other than himself. A mask to use to push through life's hardships. A winter cold was the least of his personal worries.  

“Of course, I can,” his voice has the sultry hilt to it that drives the people of Underground Daegu wild. “Lilac was made for this.”  

Tonight, the club is bathed in red. It’s Jimin’s most enticing color. There are investors here this evening. Junso is planning to open a second club within the next year. He told them yesterday before he left. “Make a lasting impression,” he looked between all the omegas who worked in the club. “If you dream of something bigger, a stage of your own like Lilac here, you’ll all put on the shows of a lifetime.”  

Jimin thought it weird that he would leave town before an investor's party, but he assumed his son, the heir to this one day, would take over for the evening. Jimin spots him among the guests at the club. He’s sitting in the middle of an enclosed box, exclusive to only those who’ve been invited by the Min family for the evening. Jimin thinks he looks out of place. He doesn’t normally sit this close.  

There are alphas and powerful omegas filling the club this evening, all here to see him put in his show. He takes a deep breath from behind the curtain. His vision swims with the fever. He blinks a few times to clear the spots.  

“Forty-five minute set and then straight home,” Taehyung says behind him. He spanks Jimin’s ass gently, like he always does. The heat on Jimin’s skin is almost stinging.  

The music cues and Jimin steps out on the floor.  

“Good evening, everyone,” he purrs deeply into the club air. “Lilac has arrived.”  

Jimin has worked for Dandelion for seven years. He knows the ins and outs of the club like the back of his hand. So, it’s easy for him to do tonight on autopilot. Tables are packed, drinks flow, and all eyes are on him, despite him not being the only dancer.  

There are smaller stages that border the perimeter of the club. Omegas, some of them his friends, flaunt for the attraction and bills of the people that surround them. Each stage is open to the club, inviting them to look and touch as much as the dancer allows.  

Jimin’s stage is quite the opposite. It sits in the middle of the club, like a maroon velvet box. It’s so high up, stairs are the only way to reach it. Junso designed it so that Jimin could be seen from every angle of the top and bottom floors. Each evening, he slinks out down a catwalk, allowing the audience to drink in every inch of him before he ascends the stairs and slips into his cage.  

“A cage?” Jimin asked the first time Dandelion was revealed to him. He was fresh off the train from Busan. “But how will they see me?”  

Televisions line the club as well, projecting Jimin’s dance at precise angles and shots. The omega who works the camera captures him perfectly.  

“They’ll see everything,” Junso replied. “But they can’t touch.” He used his long pointer finger to lift Jimin’s chin, forcing the omega to meet the alpha’s gaze. “Something this pretty should always remain untouched.”  

This evening’s audience is at the edge of their seats, literally. He watches them lean forward as he slowly makes his way to the stage.  

Step by elongated step, eyes are glued to him. His hips swish slowly to his intro tune of the evening, something with deep pianos and a low thrumming beat. He counts the steps in his head, making sure he’ll arrive at the climax of the song, ready to spin as everything explodes in sound.  

Someone hoops, another hollers when he hits the stairs. Jimin throws a blinding grin towards the praise. Lilac thrives on this. He uses it to build his energy up. He turns to face the main crowd, the Min Family lounge is directly in front of him. Jimin drops on the bottom stair, spreading his legs open. He stares down the alpha in the middle, much like he does Junso every evening.  

“You must always keep your eyes on me in the beginning,” he’d said.  

“Why?” Jimin asked.  

“Human society is based on want. Life is based on want,” he’d stroked Jimin’s hair as they met each other’s gaze in the mirror. “We want what doesn’t want us. It’s as simple as that. If you pay them no mind in the beginning, they’ll want you more. It is their desire that will drive them mad.” 

“When will I know to look at them?” Jimin dropped his eyes to the counter.  

“You’ll smell the cue in the air.”  

Junso’s alpha son hasn’t stopped staring. Jimin knows it’s the point, but it’s the way he’s holding his gaze. Yoongi has never openly looked at him so intensely before. Jimin uses it to his advantage, locking in as he spreads wider, showing the audience what they came for. The alpha’s brow goes up, and his mouth quirks in amusement.  

Jimin purrs before pushing himself back up. “Who’s ready for a show?” he asks.  

The crowd explodes in praise.  

He’s covered in sweat by the time he reaches the cage. He wonders how he might be able to hold onto the pole with wet hands. His stage tonight might need to be strictly floor dances, the pole will be more of a prop than anything else.  

His dainty fingers grip onto the metal, using it to move his body and hold himself up. He’s five minutes into his set and he can already feel his sickness exasperating itself because he’s using extra energy. He should have listened to his senses this morning. He knew there was an ache in his muscles that didn’t feel right.  

The song changes and he slips into his first dance of the night. He allows the music to take over his body, his limbs flowing languidly around the large cage. The crowd feeds him praise after praise. He watches the money count rise on the small screen inside the metal bars. Each dancer can see how much they’ve earned throughout their performance as the guests fund their shows continuously.  

Lilac always makes the most.  

He rolls his hips to the beat, dropping down onto his knees. His body is thankful for the break from standing. He fights hard to stop his shoulders from sagging. The heat is starting to ramp up again. He tugs at the string in the middle of his chest, letting the robe fall to the floor. It leaves him more exposed, which the crowd loves, and allows for one less layer on his sensitive skin. He’s so hot at this point, he feels like he’s tingling.  

His nimble fingers trail over his body, touching places he knows the audience wants to. The alpha in front of him, Junso’s son, follows each movement. Jimin starts to pretend his own hands belong to him. A strong grip on his thigh, a hand stroking down to touch himself through the fabric of his silk shorts. His brain remembers the exact way the Yoongi touches him when they’re together. He sees the alpha’s Adam's Apple bob when he swallows. Jimin throws his body backwards as the song crescendos, arching his belly into the sky. It’s when he notices he’s wet for the first time. The energy in the room erupts.  

He sits back up, panting. He hasn’t danced a lot so far, but he’s out of breath and nervous. This has never happened before. He’s met the gazes of the most attractive alphas and omegas on any night in Dandelion. Never once has he been physically turned on by their attraction.   

He keeps dancing despite the difference. Jimin spends the next few songs interacting with the different areas around Dandelion. He moves in and out of the cage tonight, unafraid to go closer to the crowd without Junso’s watchful eye. However, anytime someone gets close to trying to brush their fingers across his skin, grab for the silk, Jimin slips further away. His eyes always find the heir’s.   

His earnings have skyrocketed this evening, and there’s still ten minutes left in his set. Junso will be so proud. The investors will be incredibly pleased.  

His vision is getting blurrier as the time ticks on, the torridity is overwhelming. He thinks he’ll pass out the second he makes it backstage. He knows Taehyung will be upset with him. He’ll say ‘I told you so’, he’ll make him go straight to the emergency room where some alpha doctor will prescribe him medication to make the fever go away. It doesn’t sound all too bad, but he just needs to make it through the last two songs.  

The first is a fast number. He always thought building the energy back up just before the end of the show was the way to keep the audience still wanting more. It holds Jimin’s most jarring movement, the climb.  

His bare feet fit perfectly between the bars of the cage. He welcomes the cold that the metal brings as he ascends the side, step by step. The sweat on his skin attempts to be a problem, but he just moves slower than normal. His eyes find the Alpha’s again when he reaches the top. He watches him carefully.  

The flame ignites when Yoongi bites his lip. Jimin thrusts forward against the cage, an audible moan coming out of him. The audience screams in satisfaction. Jimin watches as they all react in different ways, some of them touching the partners of their own. In more private, secluded areas of Dandelion where people only watch the screen, he knows there are people touching themselves.  

He slinks towards the middle of the cage, climbing backwards towards the middle. He’ll slide down the pole to end the night. It’s not until his legs are wrapped around the metal and he begins to go down, much quicker than he ever has, that he realizes. There’s slick coming out of him. 

Jimin presented at seventeen, a little later than others his age in Busan. He was assumed to be an omega at birth, a subgender test told his parents the results. They raised him as such, full of shame to have their own son be of the lowest class.  

They put him on heat suppressants immediately, forcing Jimin to reject all instincts about himself. The suppressants hid everything that revealed his omega nature, including his scent.  

Junso, though he claimed to respect omegas as he was married to one, required the same. Daegu was a city much different and more accepting than Busan, where subgenders held only little class difference. But the omegas of Dandelion were required to be on suppressants for their safety and convenience. A heat could take you off the stage for days. An omega scent was the most enticing thing to alphas in the world. Junso couldn’t afford a fiasco, all because an alpha became too seduced by both visual and olfactory senses.  

Jimin has never experienced a heat before, but he’s not foreign to the signs of it. The warmth beneath his skin suddenly makes sense. This is not a winter cold. It’s exactly the opposite.  

The slow song comes on and Jimin gathers himself from the floor. He just needs to walk out of the cage. He needs to descend the stairs. The nearest bathroom is closer than backstage. Now that he’s realized what’s going on, the deep nausea has returned.  

He steps down the stairs delicately, appearing light on his feet. He’s really trying not to bolt from the room. The dozens of alpha scents, now closer to him since he’s left the cage, are threatening to drive him wild.  

His eyes must give him away because this time when he catches Yoongi’s gaze, there’s concern there. Jimin sees his nostrils flare as the dancer drops into his final squat on the bottom step, legs spread wide for the audience to admire. For the first time in years, Jimin’s own scent begins to penetrate the air. The alpha slips to the edge of his seat, his mouth starts to form a word to call out to him.  

Jimin almost whimpers, he’s losing control. He hops up, bows, then blows a kiss to the crowd. “A good evening to all.”  

As conspicuously as possible, he hurries to the bathroom.  

The bathroom is located just to the left of the back hall. It very clearly says staff only. Jimin bursts in, gasping for breath.  

Jimin slams the door behind him. His heart is pounding. The second he’s alone and the music has left him, the heat implodes. He crumples in front of the toilet, stomach twisting painfully as his insides threaten to burn him alive.  

He grips the porcelain tightly, trying not to throw up or pass out. He thinks it might help, but he really doesn’t want to. He pants, rippling the water below.  

Someone starts pounding on the door. He hears his name being called, but there’s a ringing in his ears. He’s never felt anything like this before. Fists hit against the door again.  

“Jimin!” No one in the club calls him that except for Taehyung. He grits his teeth and pushes up from the floor. Pain explodes in his muscles. He’s sweating everywhere now as the heat fully sets in. He needs to get out of here and back to his home quickly.  

He throws open the door, expecting to see Taehyung but finding the young alpha instead. Jimin freezes.  

Publicly, Jimin has spent three years tiptoeing Min Yoongi, the heir to Underground Daegu. He’s a mystery around Dandelion. When Jimin started, he was barely around, only coming once every few months with his father. Sometimes he would be seen flanked by two other alphas and an omega socialite, but no omega that belonged to him. His neck is bare.  

He’s both alluring to and feared by the dancers of Dandelion, none of them know if he’ll be ruthlessly in charge like his father.  

Jimin tries to close the door, but Yoongi stops it, holding on with ease. “Jimin,” he says to him in a voice he’s never used before. It makes something thrum inside of him, to hear his name said gently like that.  

He whines. “Something’s wrong.”  

Yoongi nods. He takes his hand off the door then raises them both as if to show he’s not a threat. “Can we close the door for a second? Just to talk.”  

Jimin nods back. Yoongi steps in, closes the door, then creates as much space as possible between the two of them. He keeps his mouth slightly open.  

Jimin tries hard not to collapse again as another surge of heat makes his skin tingle with pain. He can’t help the whimper that escapes him.  

“Your scent…” Yoongi’s voice is almost a whisper. “I caught it when you–when, on the stairs?” he scratches at the back of the neck. “I wasn’t the only one.”  

Jimin can barely focus on him, the flame is so blinding. He whimpers again.  

Yoongi fidgets on the other side of the small bathroom. He’s doing a good job of hiding his physical distress, but Jimin can tell in his scent, he’s affected by his heat. He’s in too much pain to tell what kind of scent he has.  

“You need to get out of here, you–dancers aren’t supposed to–” Yoongi swallows. “Something bad could happen if you stay in the club.”  

Jimin whines high and drops to his knees, looking up at the alpha through his lashes. “It hurts,” his voice is rough as he tries not to cry. “P-please help me.”  

Yoongi freezes in front of him. “Jimin, I c-can’t. Not like this.” 

“Please, just get me out of here,” he looks up at him with tears in his eyes.  

The pounding at the door begins again. Jimin’s eyes go wide with panic. If another alpha followed him and tried to corner Jimin or advance on him, Yoongi might become upset. Jimin believes it’s his duty, much like his father’s to make sure no harm comes to the dancers of Dandelion.  

The door shakes with the force of the knocking. The handle jiggles. Yoongi starts to cross the room and Jimin wishes he could tell him to stop but his stomach twists again. He feels more slick start to wet his silk. He sobs. 

“Jiminie!” It's Taehyung’s voice.  

Yoongi opens the door. Taehyung gasps and pushes past him, dropping down and grabbing Jimin’s shoulders. He doesn’t even have time to register why the alpha might be there. “Jimin, Jimin look at me, what’s going on?”  

The door closes again. Jimin can only tell Yoongi is still in the bathroom because his shoes scuff across the tiled floor when he makes his way to the other side again.  

“Tae it burns,” Jimin moans, pressing his face into Taehyung’s bare neck.  

Taehyung hisses at the warmth from Jimin’s forehead. “Y-you’re in heat, but how?”  

All the omegas at Dandelion know that they’re required to take their daily suppressants. Delivered to them each day at the beginning of their shift like clockwork. You’re not allowed to dance in the club without them. They’ve seen rebellious omegas try everything to hide the pills, tongue them and more, all to be found and fired.  

Jimin wouldn’t dare attempt to cheat the system, especially when he was already breaking the biggest rule of them all. Being Dandelion’s pride was his only ticket to freedom. “I don’t know,” he cries. There are hot tears leaking onto Taehyung’s shirt.  

“What did you do?” Taehyung looks up at Yoongi. There’s a venom in his voice that Jimin’s never heard before.  

“N-nothing,” Yoongi says. “I noticed it when he was dancing. I came to check on him. I was telling him he needs to get out of the club.”   

“He does,” Taehyung agrees. He caresses Jimin’s hair. “We don’t drive here. I can’t take him home. I have to keep working,” Taehyung’s voice cracks at the end. He lifts Jimin’s chin to meet his glossy eyes.  

“I’ll take him,” Yoongi says. “I’ll make sure he’s safe.”  

“You have to stay with him,” Taehyung says firmly. If Jimin were more coherent right now, he’d scold Tae for using that tone with their boss’ son, but he’s barely holding on. “You can’t leave him alone for a second. Someone could find him and–” 

“I won’t leave him,” Yoongi says. “I swear. I’ll take him to my place. It’s highly protected. I’ll give him a room and give him food when he comes out of it. I’ll take care of him.” 

Taehyung doesn’t know that Yoongi is the only person Jimin would be willing to go with right now.  

“Is that okay?” Taehyung asks Jimin.  

All Jimin can do is nod. He’s desperate to be anywhere but here.  

Jimin shivers at the cold air that hits his skin when they step into the parking garage just beneath Dandelion. It’s both welcoming and jarring at the same time. Taehyung has an arm slung around his waist, supporting Jimin’s weight. The fire in his belly threatens to take his consciousness once more. He stumbles, but Taehyung catches him.  

“Just right here,” he hears Yoongi say. A door is opened, Jimin is pushed in the backseat.  

Taehyung’s large hand closes over his own. “It only lasts a day or two, Jiminie. It’ll be over soon, okay?”  

Jimin’s crying again. Taehyung places Jimin’s small black duffle next to him. He leans up towards the driver’s seat, where Yoongi has already slipped in. “All of his things are in here like his phone, his wallet, and clothes and stuff.” 

Yoongi nods.  

“I don’t have any way to get in contact with you, so please tell him to text me when he comes out of it.”  

“Seokjin,” Yoongi says. “He’s, my bodyguard. He’s still in the club, probably still in the lounge or around looking for me. I’ll call him as soon as I pull away and tell him to find you. He’ll be upset I left without him. Don’t tell him what’s going on. The fewer people that know, the better. Just say Jimin got sick, and I’m taking him home. But he’ll give you my number.”  

Taehyung huffs. “Okay. Seokjin.”  

“He’s tall. Very handsome, lavender hair.”  

Taehyung gives a quick shake of his head. “We all know him.”  He kisses Jimin’s hot forehead before murmuring a ‘thank you’ and slamming the door.  

The drive is a blur. Jimin spends all of it in a ball, biting inside of his cheeks so hard it draws blood. Anything to distract him from the pulsating in his stomach.  

Yoongi doesn’t make a sound the entire time until his phone call. He just drives with all the windows down, probably trying to air out the heavy scent of Jimin’s heat and cool the omega off. Jimin can tell he’s uncomfortable but he’s too out of it to say anything.  

He starts speaking to someone, who responds to him on Bluetooth with exasperated sighs and clipped tones.  

“If you’d just make my fucking job easy for one day, Yoongi!” he hollers.  

Yoongi quips back. “Hyung, I'm not trying to make your job fucking hard. I just went home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Jimin whines as another wave rocks him forward. Yoongi hangs up quickly after that. Jimin catches his eyes in the rearview at a stoplight. He looks as scared as Jimin feels.  

Jimin becomes more awake to the world as the fresh air attempts to cool him a bit. He can assess his surroundings. Yoongi pulls into a lower level garage of his sleek, tall building. They’re enveloped in darkness until Yoongi opens a second door that leads to a row of a few cars. He whips into the spot closest to the door.  

Jimin tries to pull himself into a sitting position, but his bones feel as heavy as the metal cage he dances in. Yoongi’s at the door before he can even sit up. He reaches in, touching his arm and Jimin’s hisses. His skin feels like the worst sunburn imaginable.  

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says. “I just need to get you inside.”  

It’s a struggle to do so. Jimin almost starts tearing up again at each touch of his body, and he’s embarrassed to say it also arouses him to be touched by Yoongi. Slick drips down the inside of his thighs, and he prays to God he doesn’t leave a trail to Yoongi’s apartment.  

He whimpers in the corner of the elevator on the way up to the fifth floor. Yoongi’s scent flares in such a small space. Jimin bites back his thoughts. He just needs to make it to bed. If he makes it to a bed, he can sleep this off. It’ll all go away.  

But more slick gushes down his leg, and Yoongi can’t hide the primal growl in his chest. He physically turns away from the omega, a hand pressed to his nose. But his scent gives him away.  

It’s heady with arousal and desire. It’s the very type of pheromone that’s Lilac’s driving nature. Jimin thrives on being enticing to other people. He takes a deep breath, and he can’t stop the next words from tumbling out of his mouth as his instincts completely take over.  

“Alpha,” he sobs, dropping to his knees in front of Yoongi. “Alpha, please help me.”  

The elevator dings and Yoongi slides to the left, stepping out into his apartment. “Jimin, I c-can’t–I–” 

Jimin crawls forward after him, ass raised a little higher in the air.  He grabs at his tight jeans. He’s soaked fully through his shorts now. “It hurts so bad,” sobs. “Please fuck me.” He’s never had to beg Yoongi for it before.  

Every omega knows the only way to end the initial pain from a heat is to be knotted by an alpha. Jimin’s never been knotted before, he’s never needed to be. When they fuck, Yoongi never knots him, not ever.  

But he needs it now.  

Yoongi presses himself against one of the walls in his living room. “Jimin, no. Just, use my guest room. You can have the whole place to yourself. You know I have toys and—” 

“No,” Jimin whines low in his chest. He pulls himself into a standing position. “It won’t be enough. This is my first heat,” he drops his voice to a soft, immature tone, “Alpha, please. I’ll be such a good omega for you. Please h-help me.” He starts to tear up again.  

Yoongi’s vetiver scent spikes with spice. Jimin’s head cleared a bit in the car, and he’s finally able to pinpoint the earthy tone that he’s so used to. It makes his gut flash hot, and he bends over, stifling a deep gag. He looks back up with glassy eyes. “Please!” He almost screams, voice catching on the end.  

Jimin watches the decision run over the alpha’s mind. His features twist and change as he ponders. “Jimin, it’s not fair—” 

Jimin nods furiously. “It is. I swear it is. I’m okay with it if you are, please just help me take this pain away,” he pleads. “Alpha, please. You’re the only one I trust to do this.”  

His throat bobs as he swallows. He takes a deep breath, which makes his scent flare even more. Jimin’s clary aroma is filling the house quickly. He bares his neck even more, focusing in on the alpha. He’ll make it seep into the sofa’s fibers if he must. He needs his help.  

“Okay,” Yoongi says slowly. “Okay, I’ll help you.”  

Jimin’s happy when the alpha reaches out a hand towards him. “Follow me.”  

He takes Jimin to his bedroom, his king sized bed lies in the middle of the wall. It’s simply decorated in dark tones, deep blues and greys. His scent is heaviest in this room, and Jimin can’t control himself as he immediately climbs onto the mattress, nosing into the pillows and blankets. He’s never felt this way about Yoongi’s scent before.  

He falls onto his back, rolling around for a moment before he sits up on his elbows. The flame is ramping up again, he’s starting to sweat. Yoongi hasn’t followed him to the bed. He’s standing with his back against the wall, worrying a line into his bottom lip with his teeth.  

“Yoongi,” Jimin murmurs his name for the first time. He sees something shift in the Alpha’s gaze. “Please,” he mewls.  

There’s a low rumble that comes from Yoongi’s chest. “You’re sure? Tell me you’re in your right mind.”  

Jimin sits up but spreads his legs, more slick gushes out of him onto his inner thighs and Yoongi’s bedding. “I’m sure. I’m in so much pain I just need it to go away, please help me. Alpha, I promise,” he gasps as his hand trails down near his cock, “I’ll be so good for you.”  

Yoongi throws himself from the wall with a deep growl. Things move quickly after Yoongi’s in his space. Their instincts completely take over.  

Clothes are strewn onto the floor. Jimin’s elated to be out of his wet silk. His small fingers immediately go for Yoongi’s cock head. He’s half-hard already, but Jimin knows he needs to be fully hard to fuck him.  

Yoongi must catch on to his apprehension because his hand goes down to clasp around Jimin’s and guides him through strokes. “It’ll be like other times, just a lot longer. Is that okay?”  

Jimin feels breathy already. “Mhm.”  

Yoongi strokes along with Jimin until his cock stands full and hard, too full to even fit in Jimin’s small hand completely anymore.  

“I should prep you—” Yoongi says. “Lay back.”  

Jimin does what he’s told, like a good omega should. He’s flat on his back with his knees in the air. He wants to present, but it seems that Yoongi needs him this way.  

He shutters when Yoongi takes his full palm and runs it along the length of Jimin’s ass and around his thighs. He’s collecting slick. “Jimin-ah,” his voice is husky and even. “Jimin-ah, are you sure? I have to ask again.”  

“Please,” Jimin’s gritting his teeth. The flames inside him are licking up every inch of his body. He just wants relief.  

“Okay, okay.”  

One finger slides in so easily, Jimin is already soaking with slick that’s collected over the hours. The Alpha inserts another, and the squelch of them being sucked up inside is loud, but not louder than the high pitched gasp Jimin’s gives.  

“Please, oh please, alpha more. Need you inside me, please.” Jimin pushes his ass down further, forcing Yoongi’s fingers deeper. He feels too empty still.  

Yoongi wiggles his fingers and inserts a third, there’s no resistance. Jimin’s fresh hole is ready to be taken.  

He pulls all of them out and Jimin sits up and in a frenzy. He grasps Yoongi's arm. “Oh no, please. Please Yoongi put them back,” he’s sobbing. His eyes are so wild. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to fuck you now, hm? Let’s turn you over.” Jimin has never been handled so gently. 

Jimin flips in a flash, ass high in the air. Yoongi can see his hole pulsing, ready to be filled. His dick tingles painfully. “Just one more time tell me it’s okay. Tell me you really want this.”  

Jimin emits more of his scent into the room. He wants the alpha to be drunk on it. “Yes. I want this.”  

Jimin wasn’t prepared for the girth nor the length of the alpha’s cock to feel like it did during heat. He enters slowly, Jimin can tell he’s trying to be gentle. But his alpha scent is heavy and Jimin’s scent is drowning him. He picks up pace quickly.  

Jimin starts to tingle all over as the slide and slip of a cock buried inside him tries to break through the heat. His pants and high gasps start soft, until they escalate in sound. The louder he gets, the faster Yoongi thrusts.  

His hands are tight on Jimin’s hips, gripping so that neither of them loses balance. This isn’t like any of their other times. There’s no laughing, no taking shots between positions. It’s pure work to get the task done. Jimin’s legs already feel like jello from the heat taking all of his energy. But he prevails because he must make it through this.  

“Right there!” Jimin calls loudly when Yoongi bottoms out. Jimin comes hard and fast, slick still gushing out of him around Yoongi’s cock. The bed and his belly are sticky with semen.  

Yoongi presses deep into Jimin’s ass, burying himself hard and stills there. He hasn’t come yet. The slap of their skin against skin fills the room. Jimin feels even more clear headed now that he’s been pushed through his first heat-given orgasm.  

He pays attention to the way that Yoongi’s holding him, grinding their hips in rhythm. He takes in the scent that’s both alluring and claiming at the same time. He allows himself to feel the drag of cock against his walls, it’s delicious in a way he couldn’t have imagined.  

He comes again, surprisingly. The alpha behind him lets out a low chuckle. “You’re such a sensitive little omega.”  

Jimin moans high and tries to push his ass back further. “More, alpha. I need more. Fill me up all the way.”  

“Jimin-ah, I have,” Yoongi says.  

“I don’t feel full enough, please what can we do? I need more.”  

Yoongi stills inside of him and Jimin wriggles. He hates the lack of friction. “I t-think, I think I have to knot you now then.”  

It’s one thing to be fucked by an alpha during a heat, but it’s another to be knotted. Other than scenting, knotting between is the highest level of trust and intimacy there is. Yoongi’s never even scented him before. Not in all the months they’ve been hooking up.  

There wasn’t a need to, he had no scent to hide because of his blockers and didn’t want one to transfer.  

Jimin whines. He doesn’t care. The omega inside of him knows he won’t be completely satisfied until it gets what it wants. “Need your knot. It’s probably so good, Hyung,” he purrs. He tries to twist around to see his face.  

Yoongi’s long dark hair is swept into his eyes. They’re both glistening with sweat and Jimin’s slick is all over at this point. “Please, pretty alpha, knot me. It’s okay.”  

Yoongi growls. “Don’t fucking call me pretty.”  

Jimin manages to chuckle just a bit. He feels clear headed enough for a moment to tease him. He knows what it does when he tells Yoongi he’s pretty. “Pretty, pretty, boy,” he purrs. “Gonna fill me up so nice, hm?” 

Yoongi sighs heavily, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to pull out. It’s just for a second. I need you to sit in my lap, so you can take me fully. It—it’s going to hurt since it’s your first time. I’ll hold you through it.”  

Jimin cries out in desperation when he’s emptied. He scrambles to turn around. Yoongi switches their positions quickly, pressing his back against the dark, oak headboard.  

“Push up, and then sit slowly. You’ll hurt both of us if you go too fast, okay?”  

Jimin nods. Now that he’s completely coherent and this close to Yoongi’s face, he feels nervous. He’s trembling. They’ve never fucked like this before, not ever. It’s too intimate. 

“Okay?” Yoongi asks once he’s all the way down. “You’re shaking and your scent is—the sage got deeper.”   

Jimin nods again. He’s staring past the alpha, looking at the headboard. There are deep swirls, and he thinks he could just focus on the patterns.  

“Jimin-ah,” the alpha’s voice is so gentle, it almost makes him ache. “Tell me you’re okay.”  

“I’m o-okay,” he stutters. The stretch hurts, and he’s terrified of what’s to come when the alpha’s knot begins to grow.  

“Can you look at me?” Yoongi asks.  

Jimin does. He gasps. Yoongi starts moving them both, guiding Jimin’s hips against him. His hands are large, contrasting against Jimin’s tiny waist. The omega starts to purr.  

Jimin really does think Min Yoongi is pretty. Pretty in a royal way with high cheekbones, striking eyes that remind him of a primal creature. Those eyes are locked on him. It was always his eyes that caught the omega’s attention. Jimin rests his hands on the alpha’s shoulders. They’re broad, and smooth-skinned, freckles dance across the tops of them.  

Jimin’s the one to pick up pace as the heat in the epicenter of his belly travels low to his groin. He’d gone a bit soft before, but now he stands erect, cock trapped between their stomachs.  

“Alpha,” he hums. “M’gonna come again.”  

He grabs his shoulders tighter. “Try to hold out,” Yoongi says. “I’m almost there too, it’s more comfortable if I knot you during orgasm. All of the muscles will relax.”  

Jimin’s hips grind against him, and he bites his lip hard, forehead tipping down onto to rest on his shoulder.  

His nose catches his scent gland and Jimin can’t help it, he presses it there and takes a deep inhale. That tips Yoongi over the edge.  

He spills into Jimin fiercely. His knot starts to grow at once after, so much that it hurts. Jimin cries out in searing and Yoongi presses him closer to his chest. “S-sorry,” he grits through tight teeth. “Just wait a second.” 

“I’m okay, it’s okay,” Jimin sobs. It’s not. It hurts. He’s hot and sweaty against the alpha’s body. He has never been this intimate with anyone in his entire life, not even Taehyung, who he’s cuddled with for endless nights.  

Jimin tries to shift and whimpers as the nerves pinch inside him. “Shh. Don’t move, just stay like this okay,” the alpha’s voice is strained. “It takes a while for it to go down.”  

Jimin feels his lower belly thrum, his omega pleased to be filled up continuously. The growing pouch going a bit round. The thought makes him a bit nauseous, and he takes a shuddering breath. He’s still crying a bit, hot tears running down his cheeks.  

Every few moments, Yoongi will remove a hand from his waist to wipe them. He doesn’t say anything else but hums low in his chest. It’s an alpha tactic to get omegas to calm down. The clearer Jimin’s head becomes, the more embarrassed he feels about asking Yoongi to do this for him. 

It starts to work eventually. The knot still feels tight as they’re locked together, but Jimin can withstand it a little better as the minutes go on. He also realized the pheromones in the air have changed. Before, they were heavy and weighing him down. Now they’re light, like a sheet. Jimin realizes Yoongi’s releasing relaxation notes. 

He’s never been so gentle with him before. 

His knot deflates after a while just like he said. It’s at that time Jimin breaks out into a final, tummy churning sweat, his heat quickly leaving him. By the end, it’s fully broken.  

He’s limp against Yoongi for a moment. Every ounce of his energy has been drained over the last few hours. He feels like he could sleep for days. He should.  

“I—” Yoongi tries. His voice is gruff and Jimin realizes that he didn’t make a lot of sound. He isn’t always this quiet when they’re together. On his end, Jimin knows the penthouse is soundproof, he’d been so loud he thought anyone in Daegu might have heard him. “You’re in pain still, I think it would help if I scented you. Just quickly?”  

Jimin removes his head from his shoulder. He looks at Min Yoongi’s eyes. They were such gentle eyes. “Um. Okay?” He’s never scented him ever during sex. There wasn’t a need, Jimin didn’t have a scent before.  

“Would that be uncomfortable? My alpha is just going a little crazy. I’ve never done something like this before?”  

“We’ve had sex before.” Jimin laughs.  

“No, I mean I’ve never had sex with someone during their first heat.”  

“Ohh,” Jimin nods. “Okay. Yes, you can scent me a little.”  

It’s a lot. He drags his nose from shoulder to jugular, planting kisses and soft nips along the way. Jimin’s climbs off his cock after the knot goes down and he feels like he’s not going to spill everything all over Yoongi’s sheets. He sits in his lap. He’s right about him being in pain. His whole body is throbbing with it.  

Yoongi presses his nose deeply into Jimin’s throat before nuzzling and emitting his earthy scent over and over again. Jimin’s body starts to relax, muscles unclenching and listening. The last amount of slick releases out of him.  

When he’s done scenting him, Jimin is close to purring. It makes him feel uncomfortable to be this vulnerable, so he refuses to meet the alpha’s gaze. “Let’s wash up.”  

The cleaning process takes forever. Yoongi sends Jimin off on wobbly legs towards a shower. While Jimin washes, trying not to fall asleep standing, Yoongi brings in his duffle. “Text Taehyung when you have a moment to let him know you’re okay.” His voice is a bit tighter than before. 

He leaves a fluffy robe and soft slippers too, before exiting the bathroom.  

Jimin wraps himself in the robe. He winches when he sits on the toilet. His ass is swollen and sore. He wonders how long it will take for him to recover.  

The shower leaves him refreshed but much too clear minded. The panic starts to set in. He allowed Yoongi to knot him. If Junso finds out, the omega will be dead.  

He texts Taehyung to let him know he’s safe and okay. He won’t tell him about the affair with Yoongi. The fewer people that know, the safer.  

He emerges from the bathroom to hear another shower running. It’s coming from the bathroom attached to Yoongi’s room. Jimin hovers outside. The room is still incredibly thick with arousal and their scents combined. The sheets have been changed, he can see that much. There’s a pile of soiled bedding on the floor.   

A deep blush fills his cheeks as he remembers what went on just moments ago. He’d lived twenty-six years of his life untouched in this way, always told to be the sparkling and pristine omega.  

He hears the shower turn off and scrambles down the hall back towards the living room.  

Now that he’s come out of his heat, he can pay attention to his surroundings. The alpha’s apartment is large. He never really looked at it when he’s been here before. It’s all one floor at the top of the building. But Jimin thinks his own apartment could fit in here three times over, and he lives in a nice place.  

Three stairs go down into a sitting area filled with couches and a large television at the back wall. The dark decor is present here too, grays and blacks decorating the entire space.  

Behind it is the largest kitchen Jimin has ever seen. Two stove tops in the middle of a giant island. Another bar area off to the side and an eight-person black dining table lines the wall.  

What really gets Jimin is the windows. They’re floor to ceiling on three sides. Two of them have shades drawn. But the one behind the couch, where the balcony lies, is completely open. He can see Daegu stretch on for miles. He’s been fucked against the windows before, but was always too drunk on cock to pay attention to the view.  

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Yoongi’s voice startles him. Jimin shakes, hugging the robe close to himself.  

“Just water, maybe?” His throat is so hoarse from all the sounds he made in the bedroom.  

Yoongi’s carrying two bottles of pills. He sets them on the counter while he fills up a glass from the fridge. Jimin stands at the granite island, too afraid of the pain of sitting on the black stool.  

“Here,” Yoongi says. He sets the glass in front of him then pushes over the bottles of pills. Jimin recognizes one of them as pain medication. “For the discomfort and inflammation.”  

He nods, but takes the other in his hands with a confused expression.  

“They’re scent blockers. Different from the ones used at the club. My omega friend Hoseok left them here. They’re good quality. They should remove your scent and mine from you right away.”  

Jimin’s nose twitches. He’s already noticed how heavy the alpha’s scent cloaks his.  

“My father will return from his trip tomorrow. He cannot know we were together,” Yoongi looks down at his hand splayed across the counter. Jimin notices it’s a large hand. “It would be bad for the both of us.”  

“Agreed,” Jimin says. It’s why they’ve kept it a secret from everyone this whole time. He pops the lids off of both pill bottles. He dips a few in his hand before tossing them back and taking deep gulps of water. He's so thirsty, he drains the whole glass.  

“Careful,” Yoongi warns. “You’ll make yourself sick if you drink too much too fast. Your body still thinks it’s working in overdrive. You have to remind yourself to slow down.”  

Jimin nods with a yawn.  

“You can sleep here. I’ll drive you home in the morning. I have a few guest bedrooms you can choose from. You should rest now.”  

Jimin’s never slept over before, but he just nods, too tired to argue. He gets settled in a room that he thinks is furthest away from Yoongi’s. The guilt and shame are seeping deeper into him, and he wants nothing more than to be completely alone.  

“Do you need anything else?” Yoongi asks at the doorway. Jimin watches as his toes play at the threshold, not crossing.  

Jimin shakes his head. “Tomorrow, this never happened,” he says from the bed. “You can’t speak to me at Dandelion. I won’t tell anyone, and you can’t either. I’d be killed.”  

Yoongi gives a tight nod. “You should set up an appointment with the clinic, to see why your suppressants failed. Omega heats come every eight weeks.”  

“I know.” Jimin says tightly.  

Yoongi looks down at the floor. His mouth purses like he’s going to say something. But he just looks up. “Sleep well,” he says before closing the door.  

Jimin lies awake for hours. The tears come quickly, more so than usual. He holds his breath through each wave of sorrow, hoping Yoongi can’t hear him. When the sun just barely starts to peek outside, Jimin knows it’s time to leave.  

Dressed in sweats from his bag, he tiptoes through the house. He doesn’t want Yoongi to catch him. He can’t face him, knowing that he’d played a part in pushing the alpha past his likely boundaries and making him relieve his pain.  

He slips out of the penthouse and hurries all the way home.  

*** 

Jimin sleeps for two days after his heat. Each time he tries to come out of the exhausted haze, he’s pulled back under. He’d personally called Junso to say he was sick and couldn’t work. It was during the week so while the man was upset, the phone scolding was quick and he told Jimin to return to Dandelion the second he was better.  

Taehyung called each day, offering support and food and cuddles. Jimin declined, promising that he was fine, just exhausted from his first heat. Taehyung knew what it was like. As other omegas had, he experienced heats before working at Dandelion.  

Jimin had been the only one suppressed for his whole lifetime.  

Yoongi doesn’t call or message. Jimin doesn’t expect him to.. He knows the alpha could call if he wanted to. But Jimin’s thankful he doesn’t. He just wants to put the entire thing behind him. They won’t be hooking up anytime soon or ever again, maybe. 

But he can’t help but remember the gentle way he held him through being knotted each time his body aches or his bottom protests sitting.  

He returns to Dandelion on the third day after his heat.  

He’s still tired and groggy so he fills himself up with coffee. Taehyung is elated that he's back. He hugs Jimin tight and fawns over him. “Oh you look so much better than the other evening. You’re practically glowing, Jiminie. You’ll be so fun to doll up tonight.”  

Jimin gives him a tight smile. They work around the club during the daytime, stocking tables, refilling alcohol bottles and tidying things up to get ready for the night.  

Jimin’s stomach coils when he hears the side door open. It’s the scent that hits him first. Vetiver tinged with a tone of apprehension. Combined with it is spicy, hot cinnamon, a scent Jimin has grown to loath.   

He turns to see three alphas walking into the club together. Junso is flanked by his son and another alpha, tall and broad shouldered, with lightening lavender hair. Min Yoongi and his bodyguard, Seokjin. Jimin tries not to sneer, he truly hates when he comes into the club. 

“Lilac!”  Junso calls.  

Jimin is behind the bar, arranging the bottles in neat rows. He does his best to fake a smile as the three of them approach.  

“Good to see you back here today,” his tone always borders on unkind. “Feeling better?”  

Jimin nods. “Much. I think I just worked too hard at the investor's party, that’s all. Did we have a good turn out?”  

He actively avoids Yoongi’s eyes and presence in general. It seems the alpha is trying to do the same. He speaks in a hushed tone to his bodyguard, who Jimin sees roll his eyes. They step away a few seconds later.  

“You did well,” Junso says. “We’re breaking ground on the new club next month thanks to your earnings. An even bigger stage is coming for you.”  

Jimin’s stomach churns. But he makes his eyes bright. “That’s so wonderful.”  

Somehow, it’s easy enough for him to slip back into his regular routine. He spends his days either lounging at home, practicing his dance, or cleaning up the Dandelion with Taehyung.  

He notices the young alpha heir around the club more often, sometimes with his father, sometimes not. But they do well to stay away from each other. It really is like nothing ever happened.  

Five and a half weeks go by and Jimin is thrumming in the health office. He finally got in for his appointment with the same doctor all the omegas were required to use at Dandelion. It required a little lying to Junso on his part. He said he’d been experiencing weird symptoms from his suppressants and wanted to be on the safe side.  

He’d kept taking the ones he was given during his shift every day, but he could tell they still weren’t working properly anymore. Sometimes at night his scent would seep out and that had never happened before.  

His name is called and he pushes himself up, following the nurse down the hall. They get his weight, check his vitals, and then start asking him tons of questions.  

“I just think maybe you’ve been on the same thing for too long,” the nurse says. “At least that’s what it sounds like. Let’s run some blood tests and we should understand a bit more, hm?”  

Jimin nods and tries to hide his apprehension. He hates doctors and getting blood drawn and anything that deals with prodding his body. He fights back tears that make him feel silly and the nurse promises everything will be over soon.  

“Drink this juice and I’ll be back with your results in a few.”  

Jimin sips the sweet rice drink that’s supposed to stop him from feeling shaky. He checks text messages from Taehyung, who’d offered three times to come with him. He scrolls social media and rolls his eyes when he sees one of the Dandelion regulars in his feed.  

He’s a rich, socialite omega, popular in Daegu for his money and modeling. Jung Hoseok. He also happens to be friends with Yoongi. Jimin has seen them together a few times drinking bottle service alcohol in the Dandelion exclusive section.  

Jimin has never had to dance for him personally, but all the Dandelion omegas love him just because he’s rich and famous.  

The post is of him quoted on a magazine cover, talking heavily about omega rights and expectations. Jimin isn’t able to dig into the article fully because the nurse knocks on the door.  

Or so he thinks it’s the nurse. Instead, he’s greeted by an alpha woman in a long lab coat. Her name tag reads Lee, MD.  

“Hello Jimin,” she bows politely and drags a chair in front of the exam table to sit across from him. “I’m Dr. Lee, I’m here to discuss your results.”  

Jimin feels the blood drain from his face. “Not the nurse?” He’s probably dying. Doctors only deliver the results when they’re bad.  

“Well, sometimes. But these types of results are more my expertise.” She flips the computer screen around so that Jimin can look at it.  

She starts pointing to a chart and is discussing hormone levels, but Jimin can’t pay attention through the roaring in his ears. She’s going to give him horrible news, he just knows it.  

“Despite these results, Jimin, I’d like to discuss something else we discovered in your blood tests. Did you spend your last heat with an alpha?”  

Jimin’s head snaps up. He knows Dr. Lee works directly for Junso. He’s afraid to answer. But then thinks, what if the alpha gave him something? Jimin didn’t ask if he was clean, and they were too wrapped in each other to even think about condoms.  

He just nods quietly. “It was my first heat ever.” 

“That checks out,” Dr Lee says, pointing to a result on the screen. “This blood test here shows that you’re pregnant.”