Chapter Text
If gods really exist, they must have abandoned Jimin a long time ago.
That’s what he thinks as he taps the end of his pen absently against the notepad resting on the conference table.
Not that he’s facing some kind of life-or-death situation. Far from it, actually. From a more objective point of view, he’s probably overreacting. But Jimin doesn’t care about that right now. From his point of view, at this very moment, this is the end of the world.
Especially on this cursed morning.
The day began with his hair dryer breaking down. And as much as he liked a more laid-back look, his naturally air-dried hair leaned more toward I rolled out of bed and came straight here than cool and casual. At least two or three coworkers had already asked if he’d overslept.
Morning tragedy number two: he found out his favorite coffee shop was shutting down. That meant the end of the caramel espresso he loved so much. The same one that had gotten him through countless boring meetings.
As if that wasn’t enough, during his coffee break he opened Instagram and saw that Sungwoon, his ex, was engaged to the omega Jimin had caught him cheating with when he came back from a work trip last year.
And to top off the misery combo, he was incredibly frustrated. He tried to ignore the conversation happening beside him, but it was impossible not to overhear the omega in the elevator bragging to a friend about the amazing night of sex he’d had with his alpha. And, well… it had been almost six months since Jimin had sex. Honestly, it had been years since he’d had sex that was actually decent.
That alone would be enough to throw anyone off balance.
Now imagine finding out that the company’s new CEO was going to be introduced that very same day.
REPLAUSE was one of South Korea’s biggest sex toy companies. Founded a little over ten years ago by Kim Haeri, the company was more than just a clever play on the word pleasure. It was the only brand in the market entirely focused on omega satisfaction. Every single product was carefully designed to meet a wide range of needs — dildos, vibrators, plugs, massagers, and a seemingly endless list of other items.
And Jimin was REPLAUSE’s creative director, a position he adored with every fiber of his being. Not just because it gave him real decision-making power and a good amount of autonomy, but because his work directly served his fellow omegas. It made him feel useful. Represented.
Even better, around 80% of REPLAUSE’s staff were omegas. The environment was amazing: dynamic, supportive, healthy. In a patriarchal, alpha-dominated society, a company like that was a genuine breath of equality.
But then, at the end of the previous year, Kim Haeri announced her retirement. The news shocked not only Jimin, but most of the team as well. Still, she had assured everyone it was time to pass the torch to someone younger, and to spend her days (and her fortune) traveling the world.
Jimin knew this change could come at any time, and he had mentally prepared himself to welcome whoever would take over the CEO position. What he didn’t expect… was that the new CEO would be an alpha.
Kim Taehyung was Haeri’s eldest nephew. After nearly five years studying and working abroad, he had returned to South Korea solely to take over his aunt’s company. The introductory memo all employees received highlighted his impeccable qualifications: former general director of a major American corporation, Ivy League graduate, flawless record of corporate growth… He was, in theory, the perfect man to lead a company with as much potential as REPLAUSE.
But he was an alpha.
An alpha in charge of a company devoted to omega pleasure.
It sounded like a bad joke.
Haeri had assured everyone that Taehyung was the safest, most reliable choice, even if no one in the company actually agreed with her. Not that Jimin had expected to get the position himself. He knew he didn’t have the experience, the connections, or the influence for it. Still, it would’ve made more sense to choose someone from within the company. Or, at the very least, an omega.
But no. Haeri had chosen her beloved nephew.
And now, there was Jimin, sitting in the REPLAUSE conference room, waiting for the arrival of the new CEO.
He checked the leather watch on his wrist and let his eyes wander discreetly around the room once more. He wasn’t the only one waiting. All the directors and department heads were present, along with a few direct assistants. The company wasn’t large, but its well-structured organization made everything run like a finely tuned machine. Everyone there not only got along, but they worked in harmony, carefully maintaining the company’s core philosophy.
Yoongi, the director of strategy and Haeri’s right hand, was the only one who actually knew Kim Taehyung personally. Jimin had tried, more than once, to squeeze some information out of him about the alpha, but Yoongi was far too composed to indulge in harmless workplace gossip. He could’ve tried again, perhaps, but at the moment Yoongi wasn’t in the room. The omega was at the entrance, waiting to escort the alpha in.
Jimin checked his watch again. Exactly 10 a.m. Any minute now, that door would open. And maybe, along with it, the end of everything he’d worked for over the past few years. All his effort as creative director, trying to build a safe, empowering brand for omegas, far from the fetishization of alphas, from the domination disguised as “care”, could crumble in a matter of minutes.
Because, even though Taehyung was about to walk into a room mostly filled with omegas and betas (with the exception of Namjoon, the only alpha on the board), he would still be the CEO. His word would be final. And if he turned out to be as inflexible as his aunt… well, they were all doomed.
“Let’s just hope he’s not a pain in the ass,” Jungkook muttered beside him.
Jimin turned sharply, ready to scold his assistant, but the sound of the door opening froze the words in his throat.
Yoongi was the first to enter. His expression was warm, his steps smooth and composed as he crossed the doorway. Strangely, he seemed… calm. His shoulders were relaxed beneath the pale blue shirt. None of the usual, barely restrained sarcasm he wore whenever he had to deal with alpha investors. That alone was enough to make Jimin tense.
And then he walked in.
Tall. Perfect posture. Dark brown hair neatly slicked back, revealing a broad forehead and features almost too symmetrical to be real. A pair of dark, steady eyes scanned the room with composed ease. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, tailored so perfectly it looked like each seam had been designed with him in mind. And maybe it had.
Kim Taehyung was stunning.
And Jimin hated noticing that.
It was as if something deep inside him — something primitive, buried under layers of self-control — had flickered to life. His scent wasn’t even strong, but there was something there. An energy. A presence.
Alpha. His wolf gave a low growl, not defensive, but… intrigued.
Jimin crossed his legs, trying to ignore the sudden warmth creeping up the back of his neck and the nervous pulse under his skin.
“Good morning, everyone,” Taehyung said, voice firm but calm. His tone was polite, deliberate, yet difficult to read. A faint trace of an American accent colored his words. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
Yoongi stepped forward, his gestures fluid as he guided him further into the room.
“As you all know, this is Kim Taehyung, the new CEO of REPLAUSE. He’ll be joining us starting today, officially taking over the position from the company’s founder, Kim Haeri.”
Everyone stood for a brief bow, a formality. Jimin did the same, masking his reluctance behind practiced composure, though his throat went dry when Taehyung’s gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary.
“Taehyung, let me introduce everyone properly,” Yoongi continued, approaching the group. “To your left is Jimin, Creative Director of Product Development.”
Taehyung nodded politely, the corner of his mouth curving just slightly.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Park Jimin. Your portfolio is impressive.”
Jimin blinked, startled.
“I hope it’s all good things,” he replied with a rehearsed smile, while his mind screamed be careful.
Yoongi went on, “Jungkook, Jimin’s assistant. Seokjin, general manager. Namjoon, financial director. And Hoseok, your new executive assistant.”
Taehyung greeted them all with that same composed elegance. There was something meticulously measured about him — not mechanical, but intentional. He clearly knew what he was doing. He’d done his homework. He knew who each of them was, and what they’d achieved even before joining REPLAUSE. Jimin could’ve sworn he caught the faintest sigh of relief when Taehyung shook Namjoon’s hand. Likely grateful to see another alpha in a company so heavily omega-led.
Once everyone had taken their seats again, Taehyung remained standing at the head of the table.
“I know my arrival might come as a surprise,” he began, his gaze steady, voice honest. “I understand what REPLAUSE represents, and because of that, I have no intention of changing anything right away. My goal is to maintain the strong foundation my aunt built, until I’m fully immersed in the company. Only then, with responsibility, will I consider making adjustments. And, of course, always in dialogue with all of you.”
He paused, eyes sweeping over the room, landing, for a heartbeat too long, on Jimin again.
“I’m here to add to what’s already been built. And to learn from you. I don’t want to be another alpha giving orders. I want to be a CEO who understands who this company was made for.”
The room fell silent for a few seconds. Then, little by little, everyone seemed to relax. Shoulders easing, expressions softening.
Everyone except Jimin.
His wolf stirred again — restless, curious — and that irritated him more than the charming speech ever could.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
Jimin’s office was a refuge in the middle of REPLAUSE’s sleek glass-and-concrete building. Intimate, warm, softly lit through half-closed blinds, with paintings by omega artists on the walls and a diffuser quietly spreading vanilla and honey through the air. Maybe a bit self-indulgent, but he didn’t like other sweet scents competing with his own natural perfume. The low sofa near the windows was his favorite place to think, but now he was sitting at his desk, frowning at the computer screen as if his schedule might bite him.
Jungkook stood beside him, tablet in hand.
“So… tomorrow you’ve got a meeting with the development team to review the new materials,” the beta said, scrolling through the notes. “And after that, a brainstorming session with marketing about the new Whispers line launch.”
Jimin just nodded, eyes locked on a new email in his inbox. Sender: Kim Taehyung. Subject: New Scheduled Meeting Added to Weekly Agenda.
Jungkook tilted his head curiously.
“What did you think of him, hyung?”Jimin looked up, one brow arched in confusion. “The new boss, I mean,” Jungkook added quickly, a little embarrassed.
Jimin sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t know,” he said, voice quieter than usual.
He was still trying to process what he’d felt in that damned meeting room. The faint alpha scent lingering in the air, the smooth voice, those dark eyes... Jimin’s wolf had been restless the whole time. Taehyung looked like every other businessman on the surface, and yet he was nothing like them. His presence alone was commanding, he didn’t need arrogance or loud words to assert his authority. And that didn’t make any sense. Jimin had dealt with alphas before; most of them were walking egos, more interested in dominance displays than actual work.
Not to mention, this particular alpha had managed to stir his omega in ways even Sungwoon — that bastard of an ex — never had.
“He’s impossible to read,” Jimin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Well, I thought he seemed kinda nice,” Jungkook said. “I liked that whole ‘I’m here to build with you, not over you’ speech. I think he might actually be good for the company.”
Jimin huffed and spun his chair slightly.
“I’m not letting my guard down,” he said firmly, eyes flicking back to the monitor where Taehyung’s email still glowed. “He’s not waltzing in here with that soft hair, fancy accent, and a handful of schedules to turn us into some sterile corporate machine. We sell vibrators, Jungkook. Pleasure. Not… real estate.”
Jungkook snorted, but before he could reply, someone knocked on the door.
Both of them turned.
The handle turned, and there he was. Kim Taehyung.
The air seemed to shift temperature the moment the alpha stepped inside. Jimin nearly choked on his own saliva. For the first time, Taehyung’s scent wasn’t muffled by distance or a crowded room. Now it was clear. Strong. Devastating.
Cedarwood and black pepper.
The aroma hit Jimin like a warm storm: spicy, woody, intoxicatingly masculine. His wolf trembled. His body reacted before his brain could catch up. Heat rushed up his thighs, and moisture pooled where it definitely shouldn’t be. Not now. Not with him standing there.
He crossed his legs quickly, jaw tight.
“Excuse me,” Taehyung said politely. “May I have a word with you, Director Park?”
Jimin swallowed hard. Jungkook glanced between them.
“Of course,” Jimin managed, hating how dry his voice sounded.
Jungkook took the hint, gathered his things, and slipped out, closing the door behind him. Now it was just the two of them. And the scent, heavier than ever. Taehyung didn’t seem to notice the chaos he was causing. Or if he did, he was gentleman enough to pretend otherwise.
“I wanted to talk about some of the upcoming changes,” he began, leaning lightly against the edge of the desk. “I know transitions like this can be uncomfortable. And I noticed you seemed… a bit hesitant earlier, which is perfectly understandable.”
Jimin kept his gaze on the monitor, unable to meet those dark eyes for long.
“I just need time,” he said. “It’s a big change, and I like things done my way.”
“And I respect that,” Taehyung replied, voice calm and deep. “I’m not here to tear anything down. Quite the opposite, actually. I want to work with you, Jimin. Your work speaks for itself. This company got where it is because people like you put their heart into it.”
Jimin held back a sigh and the urge to look him straight in the eyes. The air between them practically demanded it.
“I understand,” he said, steadying his tone. “I just hope you understand that REPLAUSE is a space where omegas feel safe. This isn’t just another company. Here, everything’s personal.”
Taehyung nodded, and for a moment Jimin thought he saw a flicker of understanding. Or was it interest?
“I know. And I’m willing to learn. From you, from everyone here.”
Silence.
And then that damned scent again. Jimin shifted slightly in his chair, trying to ignore the damp heat between his thighs. What kind of alpha could make his body react just from a whiff of pheromones?
“Well,” Taehyung said finally, stepping back with a faint smile, “I’m stopping by all the directors’ offices. Thought a quick chat might help ease some tension.”
Jimin let out a small laugh.
“I think it helped a little,” he admitted, unsure if it was true.
Taehyung looked at him for a moment longer. Then he smiled again, softer this time. “You have a nice smile.”
Jimin froze.
The alpha seemed to realize what he’d said, cleared his throat, and quickly added, “I mean— I hope we can be good colleagues.”
He extended his hand. Jimin took it. The moment their skin touched, a current shot through him, all the way down his spine. And for a split second, he knew Taehyung felt it too.
But the alpha just gave a faint smile and let go. “See you soon, Director Park.”
Then he was gone, leaving behind the lingering warmth of cedar and spice, and a completely undone, flushed, and hopelessly confused Jimin.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
Feeling the hot water run down his body was exactly what Jimin needed after the strangely intense day he’d had. The pressure of the shower was perfect. Strong enough to ease the tension in his shoulders, warm enough to reach his bones. He closed his eyes and let the water wash away the lingering traces of embarrassment that still clung stubbornly to his skin.
The omega was still mortified by the absurd amount of slick his body had produced in the few minutes Taehyung had been in his office. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted to an alpha like that. Out of pure self-preservation, he’d refused to think too deeply about it. He’d run to the restroom downstairs, cleaned up as best as he could, and locked himself in his office until it was time to leave. Pretending nothing had happened seemed like the only viable option.
But now, alone in his quiet apartment, under the cascade of hot water, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to the alpha.
Maybe it was the sexual deprivation of the last few months. He didn't avoid pleasuring himself, but it had been a while since he'd connected with another body. Maybe his wolf was craving something bigger, more intense. Maybe the lack of alpha companionship was making his body more sensitive, more needy.
Maybe... maybe it was just biology.
But he couldn't remember ever feeling this way before.
How quickly he got wet. The almost desperate need to adjust his pants to hide his excitement as he said goodbye to the alpha. His slickness dripping in waves, as if he were in full heat.
He just hoped his scent hadn't given it away. He used suppressants regularly, but even the best of them couldn't completely contain the scent of an aroused omega in a situation like this. If someone had smelled it... God, he'd rather not imagine it.
And that was dangerous. Taehyung was his boss. An unknown alpha. Jimin would have been completely screwed if he knew that all it took was a scent and a few words for his body to react in that humiliating way. But... there was something about that scent. Cedar with black pepper. Warm, intense, almost aggressive.
Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, ducking his head under the water, trying to erase the CEO's face from his thoughts. But the slick began to run again, viscous, betraying the state of his body even as he tried to resist.
After showering, he forced himself to follow his usual nighttime routine: he applied his favorite moisturizer, prepared something light to eat, did his skincare, turned out the lights, and slipped under the covers.
But the tension was still there. Pulsing. Hot. His entire body vibrated as if waiting for something that never happened.
"Maybe that's all it takes... just one orgasm and I'll fall asleep," he muttered to himself.
Determinedly, Jimin threw back the covers and went to the closet, grabbing one of the vibrators from the drawer and the only remaining scented candle.
"Of course it had to be cedar..." he murmured.
He turned off the lights, lit the candle, placed the whisper vibrator on the sheets, and lay down. He let his eyes close, his hands slowly exploring his own body. He slowly removed his shirt, his fingers caressing his chest and abdomen as he tried to picture generic faces. The actor from last week's drama, the deep-voiced singer everyone was talking about... but no face stuck. Just the broad shoulders, the deep, polite voice, Taehyung's dark eyes.
He pinched his sensitive nipples, gasping at the memory of the way the suit had fit perfectly over that large body. That was all it took to feel more slickness trickle between his legs.
"Ugh, get out of my head, you stupid alpha..." he grumbled, pushing down his pajama pants and underwear, completely naked now.
His skin prickled over every inch, his hard cock resting against his stomach. But that wasn't where he wanted to start. His fingers moved further south, seeking the hot, wet hole already dripping with desire. He circled the tight ring, gathering the fluid on his fingers and pushing the first one inside. His body responded with a shudder, his cheeks flushing, his breathing quickening.
The image of Taehyung invaded his thoughts. The alpha approaching, removing his jacket, rolling up his sleeves as he stared at him with that piercing gaze. Jimin bowing before him, offering himself.
The second finger entered easily. Smoother. More heat. More need.
He ran his free hand over his nipples, imagining Taehyung's hands in their place. They would be larger, covering almost his entire chest. The alpha's fingers digging deep inside him, opening him patiently and firmly.
The scent of vanilla wafted through the room, but now mixed with the woody aroma of the candle. It wasn't identical to the alpha's, but it was enough to trick his instincts. To make him completely surrender.
He removed his fingers and tasted the slickness running down his shaft in thick strands. He wondered if Taehyung would like this taste. If the alpha would allow him to scent him, marking him with his sweet scent, coating that cedar with honey and vanilla.
He picked up the curved vibrator and pressed it against his entrance. The toy slid in effortlessly, drawing hoarse gasps from his throat. It was too slippery. Too sensitive. Each thrust reached deeper and made more noise.
Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. His nipples were hard, sensitive. His cock ached and leaking precum. But he wanted more. He really wanted to be filled. He wanted an alpha cock, hot, throbbing. He wanted a knot.
He imagined Taehyung on top of him, their bodies pressed together, the alpha's weight holding him down. He knelt before the CEO, undoing his belt, licking the hard length of his cock before swallowing it all. His mouth opened in the darkness, as if he were truly waiting for it. As if he desperately wanted to be used.
"Ah…" he moaned, gripping the sheets.
The toy wobbled in his hand, it was so smooth. It slipped, out of rhythm.
"Anatomically shaped shit," he grumbled, tossing it aside.
He used his own fingers again, three at a time. It was wet enough for that. They slid in easily, his hole contracting around them.
The bed was soaked. He no longer cared. His fingers moved fast, deep, while his other hand jerked desperately.
He was so close. His eyes rolled back as his orgasm took hold. His other hand rubbed his cock with an irregular rhythm, his hips moving instinctively.
"Alpha—"
The moan came loud, broken, as his body exploded with pleasure. Lines of cum spurted onto his stomach, his fingers clenched inside his own body. The slick dripped in rivers, soiling the sheets. He pulled his fingers out slowly, panting. He felt empty, sensitive, dizzy. It took him longer than usual to recover. The orgasm would leave him trembling, still aroused even though his body was exhausted.
He'd touched himself thinking about Taehyung.
He'd come calling for him.
And never, ever before in his life, had he felt anything like it.
He turned to the nightstand, where the cedar candle flame flickered, as if mocking him. The scent was fainter now, but it still seemed to suffocate him, ingrained in every corner of the room, on his skin, in his mind. Irritated, he blew out the candle forcefully and stood up, determined to take another shower.
Jimin was, without a shadow of a doubt, completely screwed.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
The next day was an exercise in pure humiliation. Jimin snuck through the company halls like he was running from the police, locked himself in his office all morning, and denied entry to anyone, including the sunlight.
He dismissed anyone who dared knock, yelling that he was far too busy developing a new concept. The only one allowed in was Jungkook, but only because the beta came bearing a massive cup of coffee.
Even then, Jimin refused any attempt at conversation. There was simply no way to explain that kind of hormonal crisis without permanently destroying his reputation. Not here, where the walls were too thin and the ears too curious.
He only left his hideout around lunchtime, heading down to the labs on the second floor. Breathing a little chemical air and talking about synthetic materials seemed like the best way to regain some sanity.
“The chemical composition of this material was designed to minimize allergic reactions,” explained Jieun, the beta head of production, as she handed Jimin a small piece of silicone.
He rolled it between his fingers, distracted. “And how does it hold up under sterilization heat?”
“Very well! High resistance is its main feature,” she replied with a professional smile.
Jimin nodded, all business.
“Great. Let’s move it to testing.” He was about to turn and leave when a thought struck him. “Ah, Jieun-ssi. I just had an idea for a new design…”
Half an hour and a few sketches later, Jimin made his way to the marketing floor. The meeting was long and painfully dull. Charts, target audiences, endless discussions, but he didn’t dare complain. After all, he’d managed to spend the whole day away from his office and, more importantly, away from Kim Taehyung.
His freedom, however, didn’t last long. In the hallway toward the elevators, still on the marketing floor, he ran straight into Jungkook. The beta was typing furiously on his tablet, multitasking as usual.
“Hyung, you’ve ignored your phone all afternoon,” Jungkook said, looking up.
“I was in a meeting, Jungkook. What could possibly be that urgent?”
“President Kim’s been looking for you.”
Jimin froze in the middle of the hallway.
“What?”
“He stopped by your office a few times. Seemed important.”
Heat climbed up Jimin’s neck. The collar of his shirt suddenly felt suffocating. “Did he say anything?”
“Nothing much. Just asked where you were, if you were in a meeting… and what you were wearing.”
“What I was— what?!”
The elevator arrived, cutting off his impending meltdown, and they stepped inside in silence. Only after the doors closed did Jungkook continue:
“He asked where you usually have lunch. I told him there’s that restaurant down the street, and he said he might try to find you there. But I guess that didn’t happen.”
Jimin was in full system crash. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“I didn’t have lunch today,” he finally muttered.
Jungkook looked horrified. “Hyung, what do you mean? You must be starving! I’ll go grab something for you right now!”
“No, Jungkook.” Jimin grabbed his arm. “I’m having dinner with Seokjin. Don’t worry.”
Jungkook pursed his lips, clearly unconvinced.
“Well… maybe you should drop by the president’s office before you leave. Since he’s so eager to talk to you…”
Jimin stayed silent for a few seconds, weighing just how terrible it would be to face the alpha for a civil conversation. But every time he thought of his boss, flashes of the previous night came rushing back.
“No way. I’m going straight home.”
The beta crossed his arms, giving him that knowing look. “You still need to grab your stuff from your office. Bag, wallet, phone… basic survival items.”
A dramatic sigh escaped Jimin just as the elevator dinged, announcing the 7th floor, the administrative wing.
“You go to my office and grab my things. He might be waiting for me.”
“You’re seriously avoiding him on purpose, hyung. I don’t know what happened, but you know you’ll have to talk to him sooner or later, right?”
As the doors opened, Jimin darted a look around and, like a ninja, ducked behind a large potted plant.
“Just go get my stuff, it’s simple!”
From there, half-crouched behind fake palm leaves, he had a perfect view of his office door, right beside the one with the shiny CEO sticker.
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Jungkook grumbled.
“Actually, this is exactly what you get paid for!” Jimin shot back, shoving him gently forward. “Just go, grab the bag, and come back. Quick.”
With a groan, Jungkook obeyed. Jimin peeked through the leaves, heart pounding. The beta disappeared inside his office, and for a second, everything seemed fine. Until the door next to it opened.
Kim Taehyung stepped out, not in his usual full suit this time. His cream-colored shirt had the first buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to reveal the golden skin of his forearms. His dress pants fit too perfectly, every line molded to him. His stride was calm, almost lazy, like he knew exactly how good he looked and wanted everyone else to notice.
Jimin felt the heat rush back, stronger than ever, like the room temperature had just risen a few degrees. His skin prickled. Even from that distance, he could catch faint notes of cedarwood.
And his body responded immediately. He was getting wet. There. Crouched behind an artificial plant.
“Is Director Park not coming back to his office today?”
Taehyung’s deep voice carried down the hall, brushing over Jimin like something dangerously intimate. A shiver ran through him at the way the alpha said his name.
“Ah, President Kim, I— Director Park was busy, sir. I just came to grab his things,” Jungkook replied, ever professional.
“Right. Please add a short meeting with me to his schedule tomorrow morning.”
“Of course. Anything else, sir?”
The alpha shook his head, then suddenly paused. His posture went tense. He turned slightly in Jimin’s direction, nostrils flaring — sniffing. Jimin shrank even further behind the leaves, mortified, feeling slick threaten to give him away. If that alpha took even one more step, he was done for.
But the moon gods were merciful. Taehyung simply inhaled deeply, looked away, and said calmly,
“That’s all, Jungkook. Have a good evening.”
“You too, President.”
As soon as the CEO’s door closed, Jimin slumped against the wall, drenched in cold sweat. They hadn’t even exchanged a word, and he was already falling apart. How was he supposed to survive a meeting with that man? This wasn’t just unfair. It was practically torture.
Jungkook returned with a worried look.
“Hyung… you’re as red as a tomato.”
Jimin shut his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to spiritually purify himself and silently thanking the heavens that Jungkook was a beta and couldn’t smell the utter embarrassment radiating off him.
“I just… need a drink.”
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
Loud music echoed through the small karaoke room, an old trot song blaring from the speakers while its lyrics flashed completely ignored across the screen. Colorful lights spun lazily, mixing with the sweet scent of alcohol hanging in the air. On the low table, empty soju bottles and disposable cups piled up beside half-eaten snacks.
“You need sex!” Seokjin yelled into the microphone, dragging out the last word like he was still singing. His voice, already slurred from the alcohol, sounded even louder inside the cramped space.
Jimin groaned, sinking deeper into the worn leather couch and shifting uncomfortably. “Tell me something I don’t know…” he muttered with an exasperated sigh.
The older man dropped the microphone carelessly onto the table, it landed with a hollow thud, and flopped back down beside Jimin, legs spread, head tilted lazily against the backrest. He was already tipsy, his crooked grin giving him away.
“Are you sure it’s not your heat coming up?” he asked, blinking slowly, as if trying to focus.
“No, hyung, my heat’s not due until next month,” Jimin grumbled, already feeling lightheaded from the mix of alcohol and heat in the room. “And it’s completely different. I feel normal… until I smell him, or see him, or think about him— and then I start leaking like never before.”
He lifted the cup to his lips and downed it in one go, feeling the burn slide down his throat. He knew tomorrow’s hangover would be brutal, but right now, he didn’t care. Talking to Seokjin was at least therapeutic, even if his hyung’s advice was rarely the wisest.
“He’s barely been at the company a week, and I’m already like this… How am I supposed to work like this?”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows, propping an elbow over the back of the couch.
“Look, he’s definitely easy on the eyes, I’ll give you that. But I think you’re the only one in crisis here. We can rule out his scent. No one’s smelled anything yet.”
Jimin choked, nearly spitting his drink.
“What? He practically suffocated me with it when he came into my office yesterday.”
The older man frowned, scratching the side of his head before taking another sip.
“I’m pretty sure he’s using blockers, Jimin. You know it’s company policy.”
Jimin only nodded, though frustration was written all over his face.
“Then why could I smell him? Cedarwood and black pepper. I’m sure of it, hyung. It wasn’t just in my head.”
He almost added that he knew exactly how real that scent had been, his body had made that painfully obvious, but he bit his tongue.
“I don’t know, Jimin… maybe your hormones are acting up, making you more sensitive to scents.”
“And what am I supposed to do about that?”
Seokjin shrugged. “I don’t know… go to a party, find a hot alpha, and fuck until your brain melts. Or see a doctor, or a healer… or an exorcist.”
Jimin grimaced humorlessly. “And if that doesn’t work? How am I supposed to keep working at REPLAUSE like this?”
He tried not to think about the company too much, but the thought was always there, gnawing at him. It wasn’t just his pride on the line, it was his entire career. Everything he’d spent years building. All those nights he’d sacrificed his own comfort to find better ways to take care of other omegas. The idea of throwing that away over a hormonal malfunction was terrifying.
“Well, in that case, just sleep with him.”
Jimin nearly spat out his drink. “With President Kim? Are you insane, Seokjin?”
“Why insane? He’s young and handsome. Not as handsome as me, but not everyone can be that blessed.”
“I can’t sleep with my boss.”
“Says who?”
“The company’s code of ethics?”
“Who cares about that, Jimin? Like that’s ever stopped anyone at REPLAUSE…” he waved his hand dismissively.
Jimin shook his head, trying not to laugh as another memory came to mind. “You’re unbelievable, hyung… Speaking of which, how’s your little ‘arrangement’ going?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “It’s not an arrangement, Jimin. We’re just routine partners. Namjoon helped me through my heat, I helped him through his rut. End of story.”
End of story wasn’t exactly how Jimin would describe it, but he didn’t intend to push the subject tonight, especially knowing things between Seokjin and the company’s finance director hadn’t been clearly defined since their shared cycles.
Still, he couldn’t resist teasing.
“Oh sure… totally innocent. I only had to lie to the entire office, saying you were visiting your sick grandmother in Busan while Namjoon was on leave. And you don’t even have family in Busan— all of you are from here!”
Seokjin shoved his shoulder lightly and burst out laughing, head falling back.
“Oh, right! And they bought it! Even Haeri came to ask how my poor grandma was doing.” He paused mid-laughter, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “God, I miss that old witch.”
Jimin immediately thought of their former boss, her sharp tongue and fiery personality. She’d never been easy to deal with, but she had poured her life into that company. After so many years of devotion, it was nice to know she was finally spending her money and time on herself.
“Don’t talk like she’s dead. She’s just… on vacation in Athens.”
Seokjin stretched his legs over the coffee table. “Oh, how I wish my feet were in the Mediterranean right now…”
Jimin sighed, swirling the liquid in his cup and watching it slosh. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before murmuring, “You know what’s weird? Even before… with Sungwoon… I never felt like this.”
Seokjin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”
“Like… this turned on. I mean, even when we were dating, I had trouble getting wet for him. Sometimes we had to use lube, even when I wanted him. I thought it was normal, but… after I found out he was cheating, I started wondering if it was my fault.”
Seokjin’s expression darkened. “Your fault? Jimin, that’s never an excuse for cheating. Never.”
“I know… it’s just hard not to think about it. Because if I get like this just from smelling President Kim, then why was it always so… empty with my ex?”
“Because chemistry isn’t something you can fake, Jimin. And because your ex was an idiot.”
Jimin let out a small, almost sad laugh. “I just don’t get how a complete stranger can mess with me more than someone I shared a bed with for years.”
Seokjin slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in a brotherly hug. It felt good. Jimin liked feeling cared for once in a while, especially by his friends.
For so long, it had just been him. With his parents living across the country and a boyfriend who spent more time on business trips than beside him, Jimin had thrown himself into work. Over time, Seokjin and the others had become his family. Even Haerin, with her difficult temperament, had treated him like the son she never had.
So leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder now, feeling small and confused, was the closest thing he had to comfort.
The older omega lifted a hand and brushed it gently through Jimin’s hair. “Maybe it’s exactly because he’s a stranger. Maybe it’s because he has something you’ve always wanted but never had. Or… maybe your body’s just decided to mess with your head for fun. Either way, your ex is still trash— that part doesn’t change.”
Jimin sighed again, settling against him. “Sometimes I wish I could just switch that part of my brain off…”
“And that’s why I said: sex. Lots of it. It’s the best way to turn your brain off.”
Jimin rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
The next morning hit Jimin like a hangover from hell. He dragged himself into the kitchen as if crossing a post-war battlefield, each step carefully measured to keep his head from pounding any harder. Two aspirins and a glass of water later, he was standing in front of the mirror, assessing his own reflection with a critical eye.
Seokjin had told him to “deal with it” in a different way, but Jimin had decided he’d prove – to himself, mostly – that he didn’t need anything other than self-control. He wouldn’t let his body, or his wolf, take over. He wouldn’t let hormones dictate his actions.
And if he was going to face President Kim again, he’d do it at his absolute best.
He spent hours on the ritual: a long shower, then the careful selection of an outfit that radiated precision: slim tailored trousers, a silk shirt unbuttoned just enough at the collar, and thin-heeled boots that added a few centimeters to his height and a lot more to his confidence. His blond hair was perfectly styled, his makeup done with surgical precision, sharp enough to intimidate, soft enough to seduce. A liner like a blade, a gloss that caught the light just right.
He wanted to feel powerful. As if, the moment he walked into that room, he would be the one setting the rules. And when he checked himself one last time before leaving, he knew he looked powerful.
As soon as he stepped through the company doors, heads turned. Some gazes lingered in admiration, others in curiosity. Jimin’s lips curled into a faint smirk, not the polite one he usually wore, but one that said, I know exactly what I’m doing here.
“Good morning, Jimin-ssi.”
He looked up to find Jungkook standing by the elevators, clipboard in hand.
“Good morning, Jungkookie.”
“I just wanted to remind you that you have a meeting with President Kim in twenty minutes. It’s impossible to reschedule, so…” He hesitated, glancing over Jimin’s perfectly put-together figure. “…so you’d better not be late.”
“I won’t.” Jimin adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and stepped closer, his heels clicking sharply against the floor like a warning. “Today, I’m in control.”
Jungkook blinked a few times, confused. “In control?”
Jimin smirked, this time with a glint of challenge. “You’ll see. Meeting room?”
The beta nodded quickly, and when the elevator doors opened with a metallic chime, Jimin stepped inside. The rush of cold air from the AC hit his warm skin, making him shiver. His reflection in the mirrored walls stared back at him, and for a moment, he almost believed in his own act. He smiled to himself, confident.
Today, Taehyung wouldn’t be a threat. Today, the omega inside him would stay quiet. Today, he’d be the sharpest version of himself.
At least, that was the plan.
He took a deep breath before pushing the door open. The meeting room was half-lit, quiet. He’d rehearsed this moment in front of his mirror, the way he’d walk, how he’d hold the folder, even the cadence of his voice so it would sound calm and assured.
But the moment he stepped inside, it hit him like a wave.
Taehyung was already there, seated at the head of the table. Impeccable in a dark gray suit, tie perfectly in place, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His face, as always, was composed, but Jimin felt it immediately, that familiar, unsettling scent. It wasn’t as strong as it had been in his office that first day, but it was there, warm, earthy, impossible to ignore.
Worse yet, Taehyung seemed to notice him too. The subtle tightening of his jaw, the faint flare of his nostrils. Still, neither of them said a word.
“Good morning, President Kim,” Jimin greeted, voice polite and steady enough to make any corporate director proud.
“Good morning, Jimin. It’s good to see you. I spent all day yesterday trying to reach you,” Taehyung said, his voice low and controlled as he closed the laptop in front of him. “But you… disappeared.”
Jimin held his ground, even as heat crept up his neck. “I’m sorry. I had a busy day producing new prototypes.”
Taehyung nodded slowly, studying him for a moment before gesturing to the chair beside him. “Sit.”
He obeyed, setting the folder on the table and trying not to react to the proximity. The meeting began with ordinary topics – campaign adjustments, market reports – and, to his surprise, Jimin was handling it well. He was composed, articulate, keeping his wolf under control.
Until Taehyung leaned a little closer.
“There’s another matter we need to discuss,” he said, exhaling slowly. Jimin couldn’t help noticing how gorgeous he looked from this angle. “I need your help.”
Something in the way he said those words made Jimin’s stomach tighten. He nodded slightly, gesturing for Taehyung to continue, not trusting his own voice.
“My aunt had a long-term expansion plan for the company. Some reports, research, ideas she’d been working on for years. To be honest, I don’t quite understand how she intended to execute them.”
“Couldn’t you just ask her to explain?” Jimin focused on the papers in front of him, though he could feel Taehyung’s breath too close to his skin.
“That’s the thing. I called her, but she said she’s too busy. Told me to ask you directly.”
“I see…” Jimin murmured, pulling the file closer. He didn’t see. He had no idea what expansion project Taehyung was talking about, but right now it felt like he was trapped in a forest of cedar. “I can review the material and come up with a few ideas.”
They were close now, shoulders nearly brushing. The scent of Taehyung seeped into the air, into Jimin’s clothes, into his skin. And then, an unforgivable lapse, his eyes drifted to the alpha’s exposed neck.
Pale skin, sharp line… and no mark. No mate.
The realization hit before he could stop it. When he looked up again, Taehyung was already watching him, and didn’t look away.
For a few heavy seconds, there was nothing but silence. The air thick with something charged, almost physical. And in that suspended moment, Jimin felt it happen: the heat creeping in, the pulse quickening, the betraying slickness pooling low in his body.
Panic struck fast, and with it, the humiliating certainty that Taehyung must have smelled it. They were too close for him not to.
“I— I’m sorry…” Jimin stood abruptly, gathering his folder. “I just remembered something urgent. We can finish this later.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He walked out quickly, heart hammering in his ears, warmth flooding where it shouldn’t.
By the time he reached his office and shut the door behind him, he pressed his forehead against the cold wood, breathing hard. The bitter taste of frustration burned worse than the shame. He’d been doing so well, armored in self-control, and a single look had shattered it all.
“Pathetic,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face with both hands.
But he didn’t have long to wallow. The door burst open, and for a moment, dread crawled up his spine, until he saw Seokjin standing there, holding a cup of coffee like a trophy.
“It’s not your double caramel, but it’ll do,” Seokjin said, handing it over. Jimin took a long sip without a word.
“So,” the older omega started, dropping into the armchair across from him, legs crossed and eyes glinting with mischief, “Jungkook told me you had a meeting with the boss. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Jimin groaned, closing his eyes.
“Oh really? And what’s this lovely mix of frustration and arousal I’m smelling?” Seokjin arched a brow. “You look like you just saw the devil in a suit. Don’t lie to me.”
Jimin hesitated. He paced the room once, opened the windows to let in some air, and finally sighed. Then he told him everything. The scent, the proximity, the fragile control he thought he had, the look that lasted too long… and the disaster that followed.
“I… got wet, Jin. Really wet. Right in the middle of the meeting.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “We were so close, he definitely noticed.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Jimin. You’re unbelievable.”
“It’s not funny!” Jimin protested, burying his face in his hands. “I got ready, I did everything right, I even wore the damn heeled boots to feel in control. And this happened.”
Seokjin leaned forward, his tone softening.
“First: it’s not your fault. You can’t control your body a hundred percent, it’s your wolf’s instinct. Second: it doesn’t define you. And third…” The smirk returned. “…maybe it’s time you actually do something about all that built-up tension.”
Jimin groaned. “You’re not starting that again, hyung.”
“Hey, you tried it your way, I respect that,” Seokjin said with mock solemnity, then reclined back. “But it didn’t work. So now, it’s time for my way.”
He bit his lip, unsure if he was ready for that.
“Friday night. New bar downtown. You’re going to pick a hot alpha and put those million-won legs to work.”
There wasn’t much to argue. It couldn’t get worse than this. Even if it didn’t erase Taehyung from his mind, at least it might take the edge off months of pent-up tension.
“Fine.” He lifted his chin with theatrical determination. “Deal.”
Seokjin grinned. “That’s the spirit. Now drink your coffee and go change your underwear.”
“You’re insufferable.” Jimin rolled his eyes, which only made Seokjin laugh harder.
He set the cup down, grabbed his bag – where, thankfully, he had a spare pair of underwear – and headed for the door.
“Try not to drool on anyone’s neck on your way out!” Seokjin called after him.
Jimin raised his middle finger over his shoulder without looking back, Seokjin’s laughter echoing down the hall.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
Jimin spent the rest of the week moving through a careful choreography to avoid crossing paths with Taehyung in the company halls. And, to his relief, it seemed the president himself was making an effort to keep his distance too. Deep down, Jimin felt pathetic about what had happened in the meeting room. The memory still burned like a fresh humiliation. Part of him believed Taehyung was avoiding him because he planned to fire him; another part preferred not to think about it at all.
Pretending nothing had happened was safer… and kinder to what was left of his dignity.
Now, standing in front of his bedroom mirror, the white jacket half unzipped to reveal the lace top hugging his body as if it had been tailored for him, Jimin bit his lower lip and tilted his head slightly, studying himself from every angle.
“Don’t you think it’s too much?” he asked, glancing toward Seokjin, who was calmly sitting at the edge of the bed painting his nails as if they had all the time in the world.
Seokjin looked up and scoffed. “Too much? You look like the cover of a 2000s adult magazine. That’s exactly what we need.” He smiled, waving his hand to dry the polish. “Now turn around. Let me see the back.”
Jimin sighed but obeyed, turning slowly. The leather pants were straight-cut, a little loose along the legs — but around his ass… they hugged every right place.
“I still think I should’ve picked something more… subtle,” he muttered, running his fingers through his freshly styled blond hair. “I don’t want to look desperate.”
“That’s the thing — you are desperate,” Seokjin replied matter-of-factly, standing up to adjust the hem of Jimin’s jacket. “The difference is that now you’ll be desperate and hot.”
Jimin laughed nervously, tugging at the top again.
“Isn’t this too tight?”
“Tight is good.” Seokjin winked. “Tight gets attention.”
It wasn’t that Jimin had self-esteem issues, he just preferred a more elegant, understated style. Even back in college, he wasn’t the type to show up at parties wearing cropped tops or short shorts like some of his omega friends. He’d always been a button-up-and-polished-shoes kind of guy.
But now it was too late to second-guess, because minutes later the two of them were stepping out of a cab in front of the club.
The place pulsed with color. Purples and blues flashing across the dim air, the smell of alcohol and smoke mixing with the thick scent of omegas and alphas all around. Music thumped, laughter echoed, bass vibrations ran through the floor.
At first, Jimin stayed close to the bar, gripping the colorful drink Seokjin had shoved into his hand. The first sip burned his throat, but the second went down easier. With each drink, the tension in his shoulders eased a little.
“Come on, let’s dance,” Seokjin said, pulling his hand.
“Wait, I don’t think I’m—” Jimin started, but was cut off when the second shot of tequila appeared in front of him.
“Now you are,” Seokjin said with a triumphant grin.
The music pulsed through the room, and soon Jimin was in the middle of the dance floor, his movements still reserved, but as minutes passed, his hips loosened, his body swayed, surrendering more and more to the rhythm.
Seokjin had disappeared into the crowd, but that didn’t matter. The music was enough to anchor him. He’d always been a great dancer, especially when the mission was to move his hips in time with a relentless beat. So it was easy to let go, to move purely on instinct for a while.
And then he saw him.
Or thought he did.
Between flashes of light, a tall silhouette, broad shoulders, impeccable posture. Jimin’s heart leapt in his chest. His first reaction was to laugh at himself, shaking his head. No, it couldn’t be him. Impossible. Just his mind playing tricks, dragging Taehyung into even his off-hours.
His omega was so obsessed with that man it was making him see things. The cedar of his scent already haunted Jimin everywhere, and now his subconscious was recreating the alpha entirely.
Maybe that certainty that it wasn’t real was exactly what made him keep dancing. Jimin moved for him. The liquid courage pulsing in his veins made every roll of his hips deliberate, every twist of his waist a quiet provocation. He allowed himself to imagine those dark eyes on him, that gaze stripping him slowly, lazily, like it had all the time in the world.
His mind wandered back to that night after he’d first met Taehyung, how he’d touched himself so hard he’d been dripping by the end, trembling from pleasure. Just the memory of Taehyung’s gaze in his mind had been enough to undo him completely.
And now it was the same. Just imagining Taehyung watching him that way, eyes dark and predatory, following every subtle shift of his body, it made him burn.
He wanted to touch himself. No, he wanted Taehyung’s touch, but just like that night, he made his own fingers play the part of the alpha in his imagination.
He ran them along his neck, tracing down to his scent gland, shivering at how sensitive the skin felt. Then he slid lower, over his chest, feeling the texture of the lace beneath his fingertips. He didn’t dare look away, afraid that if he blinked, the illusion would break. Like waking from a dream you try to chase back to sleep.
So he held that gaze and let go of every trace of shame.
He was already so wet.
And that was when Seokjin appeared out of nowhere, grabbing his arm.
“Jimin!” he shouted over the music, snapping Jimin out of his trance. “Namjoon’s here!”
Jimin blinked, the alcohol fogging his mind. “And…?”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows, clearly holding back a grin. “And he’s not alone.”
“What do you mean?” Jimin asked, voice a little hoarse, barely audible over the bass.
Seokjin pointed discreetly toward the far end of the dance floor, exactly where Jimin’s eyes had been fixed moments ago. He followed the gesture. Namjoon stood there, calmly sipping a beer, offering them a polite smile.
And right beside him – Kim Taehyung.
Real, solid, unmistakable. Dressed in a fitted black shirt that outlined his chest and perfectly tailored gray slacks. A glass in hand, eyes locked on Jimin like the rest of the world had simply vanished. He looked completely out of place in that club, and somehow still the center of gravity.
Jimin’s stomach dropped. The warmth from the alcohol vanished. He didn’t even have time to run before Seokjin, too loudly, announced: “Jimin, look who’s here!”
Namjoon approached, smiling with his trademark dimples.
“Jiminie! Seokjin hyung! Good to see you guys!”
“Likewise, Namjoonie,” Seokjin replied cheerfully, looping a hand around Jimin’s arm to steady him. Jimin wanted to thank him, his legs barely felt steady enough to hold him upright. But Seokjin, ever the social one, kept the conversation going. “Didn’t know you two knew this place.”
“Oh, Taehyung and I thought we’d explore a bit,” Namjoon explained, giving the other alpha a little nudge. “He’s new in town, and, well… you know I don’t have that many alpha friends.”
While Namjoon and Seokjin chatted, Jimin and Taehyung just looked at each other. A silence so thick it had weight. Taehyung’s dark gaze didn’t waver, and Jimin’s stomach twisted as if the air itself had been sucked away.
Every drop of alcohol in Jimin’s blood seemed to vanish. The lights, the music, the mingled scents, all blurred into the background, leaving only the reflection of colored light in Taehyung’s brown eyes… and the pounding of Jimin’s own heartbeat, somehow louder than the music.
He flinched slightly when Taehyung moved, proving, again, that he was no illusion. One step forward, and the alpha seemed impossibly larger, more commanding than in any boardroom.
“It’s good to see you here,” Taehyung said slowly, his deep voice cutting through every other sound. The words were meant for Jimin alone, as though no one else in the club existed.
His wolf stirred violently in his chest, howling incoherently. Jimin had to inhale deeply to keep his body from reacting on instinct.
“Same here,” he managed to murmur, his throat dry, voice barely audible.
The air between them felt heavy enough to slice. Charged. Atomic. Every molecule humming with something invisible and magnetic. The knot in Jimin’s throat tightened, he needed to get out of there.
“Excuse me… I just…”
He didn’t even finish the sentence. He turned quickly and pushed through the crowd until he found the hallway to the bathrooms. His legs wobbled, but he made it inside, closing the door behind him.
He turned on the faucet, bracing his hands on the sink as the sound of running water filled the silence. He felt like the slick between his thighs might start dripping at any second. Leaning forward, he splashed cold water on his neck, trying to soothe the feverish heat crawling beneath his skin.
Every time he shut his eyes, pressing hard until he saw darkness, Taehyung’s image burned behind his lids. The way he’d looked at him from across the dance floor felt etched into his very bones. It hurt, physically.
He inhaled the sterile scent of the bathroom, exhaled slowly. He needed to control himself. Needed to quiet the desperate omega clawing at his ribs.
Then the sound of the door opening. His stomach dropped.
The reflection in the mirror left no room for doubt. That black shirt, those shoulders. Even through the haze, Jimin recognized him instantly. He only realized he was on the verge of tears when he blinked. Swallowing hard, he tried to gather whatever fragments of composure he had left.
Without a word, Taehyung stepped beside him and turned on the tap, washing his hands with unhurried motions. Jimin tried not to look at those hands, long, deft fingers laced together beneath the water.
“Spilled a bit of my drink,” the alpha said after a moment, using the water to wipe a few drops from his shirt.
Jimin wasn’t sure he could trust his voice, so he just hummed in acknowledgment.
“Having fun at the party?” Taehyung asked casually, though the question dragged Jimin’s mind back to minutes earlier on the dance floor. Fun. That’s what it had been, pure, reckless ecstasy. Until it wasn’t.
He made another low, noncommittal sound.
“You okay?”
Jimin blinked, holding his breath. “Yeah…”
For a few seconds, the only sounds were water and restrained breathing. Then, the click of the faucet. Taehyung moved to grab a paper towel, leaning forward in a way that brought him dangerously close. The heat radiating from him sank into Jimin’s skin. The cedar of his scent tangled with Jimin’s own — sweet and heavy — a mix so intimate it made something primal inside him stir.
Their eyes met in the mirror. Jimin couldn’t move. Every nerve screamed for him to do something, but he was frozen. The heat between his legs pulsed, unbearable.
And then Taehyung stepped back. Quickly. As if realizing, too late, just how close he’d gotten. The paper towel crumpled in his hand, his gaze shifting, a faint trace of embarrassment flickering across his features.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, and left before Jimin could react.
Silence returned, louder than before. Jimin took a shaky breath, his whole body trembling. The night was over. There was nothing else that could possibly happen that would top that.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
Monday dragged on like a hangover, and Jimin felt as if he’d taken another emotional beating. He’d spent the entire weekend locked in his apartment, ignoring dozens of messages from Seokjin and the rest of his friends. Just crying, overthinking, and drowning in self-deprecating thoughts. He’d cried so much he eventually forgot why he was crying in the first place, only to start all over again. His hormones were a mess, tangled with the shame that burned under his skin, eating him alive.
And to make things worse, he was sensitive, fragile, and his body was reacting in strange ways. He’d had a fever a few times, and all the symptoms were alarmingly close to an early heat. The thought terrified him enough to book an emergency appointment with his doctor that afternoon. If something was wrong hormonally, if something was wrong with his omega, he needed to fix it.
He arrived at the office that morning wearing dark sunglasses and dragging his feet, only to be greeted by an overly cheerful Jungkook.
“Ah, hyung! President Kim’s traveling today— business meeting. You won’t have to tiptoe around the office.”
“That’s good,” Jimin sighed in relief. “I’ll stay in my office all day then. But I’ve got a doctor’s appointment at four.”
“Got it!” Jungkook yelled before the door closed behind him.
Jimin sank into his chair, surrounded by piles of paperwork, already feeling lighter just knowing he wouldn’t have to face Taehyung that day. At least in his office, he could finally breathe without catching any lingering trace of cedar.
Hours slipped by, and he was so absorbed in work that he almost let his phone ring itself to voicemail. When he finally picked up, not recognizing the number, and asked who was calling, the reply came in a low, unmistakable voice that made his whole body freeze.
“This is Kim Taehyung.”
A dozen scenarios flashed through Jimin’s mind. Maybe he was finally getting fired, or if he was lucky, just getting a formal reprimand. Or maybe it was time for a painfully awkward conversation about his indecent omega impulses.
“How can I help you, President?” he asked carefully.
But Taehyung’s answer wasn’t what he expected. The alpha sounded tense as he explained he was in Busan for a meeting with major suppliers of electronic components and to his frustration, some technical questions about product development had come up that he couldn’t answer. He needed immediate clarification.
Jimin’s initial nervousness faded as his professionalism took over. Of course the suppliers were testing the new CEO. It was a common corporate game. Taehyung was the new fish in a shark tank, and they were circling. Thankfully, he wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend he had it all figured out. When he realized he needed more information, he came straight to Jimin.
Bit by bit, Jimin relaxed into work mode. He grabbed folders, opened documents on his screen, and began explaining every process detail with steady confidence. And Taehyung listened. Really listened. He didn’t interrupt unnecessarily, didn’t question Jimin’s competence, didn’t summarize or talk over him. He just listened, asking questions at the right moments, showing he was genuinely absorbing everything.
Time passed without either of them noticing. At first, Jimin thought it would be a quick call, but each topic opened a dozen new ones, and Taehyung’s interest never waned. In between discussions, he’d drop the occasional comment that made Jimin forget how to breathe. It was ridiculous, but every time the alpha praised his clarity or how well he understood each production stage, Jimin’s heart thudded harder. He was used to being recognized for results, but not for his intelligence, not for the way his mind worked. Taehyung’s compliments were direct and without hesitation. Pure recognition.
Taehyung sighed on the other end, papers rustling softly before the sound faded. His voice was low, somewhere between exhaustion and relief.
“Jimin… thank you. Really. You have no idea how much that helped.”
Jimin adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the warmth crawling up his neck. “Just doing my job, President Kim.”
“No, it’s more than that,” Taehyung replied immediately. “You took something complicated and made it so clear even I understood it. Now I’m armed to the teeth with information. No one’s catching me off guard in this meeting.”
Jimin bit back a smile but couldn’t stop it completely. “Well, the Choi’s know our production methods inside out. They just want to see if you do too. So as long as you don’t start shooting information out of order, you might survive.”
There was a brief pause, and then Taehyung’s deep laugh rumbled through the line, catching Jimin off guard. It was low and genuine, instantly easing the tension in his shoulders. His omega purred in satisfaction, and before he knew it, Jimin was laughing softly too.
“I promise I’ll follow your instructions and won’t embarrass you,” Taehyung said.
“Then I’ll go ahead and call that meeting a success,” Jimin replied, his tone lighter than before.
“Definitely. I’ll give you a full update when I’m back in Seoul tomorrow.”
Jimin swallowed hard, realizing the pleasant call had made him forget the inevitable: they’d have to see each other again soon. And that wasn’t fair. Because once they were in the same room, once Jimin looked into those dark eyes and caught that cedar scent again, he’d end up in another humiliating mess. He didn’t deserve that. And Taehyung – so gentle, so sincerely kind – didn’t deserve it either.
He was about to say goodbye when Taehyung spoke again, voice lower now.
“Before you hang up… can I say something?”
A shiver ran down Jimin’s spine. “Of course.”
There was a pause, a quiet breath, and then Taehyung said softly, “I’m sorry for what happened on Friday. I acted like an alpha pup who couldn’t control himself around a good omega scent. It wasn’t fair to you.”
Shock rippled through Jimin, his heart pounding wildly as his mind raced. His omega all but somersaulted in delight. He complimented our scent.
“I—I should be the one apologizing,” Jimin started, but Taehyung cut him off.
“No,” he said firmly. “The fault was mine. I don’t want you to think I can’t control myself– or that I’d ever cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Even if we weren’t technically at work, I shouldn’t have acted so… impulsively. I respect you, Jimin. It won’t happen again.”
For a moment, Jimin was speechless, his face burning as his body betrayed him in every possible way. He hadn’t expected those words, not in that calm, sincere tone. Eventually, all he managed was a quiet, “I understand. Thank you for saying that.”
The air between them softened, and they ended the call almost amicably. When Jimin hung up, his phone slipped from his hand, and he collapsed back into his chair, breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
And then the most insane, unsettling thought hit him.
That Friday night, before leaving home, he’d drenched himself in scent blockers, strong ones. Even Seokjin, with his sharp nose, hadn’t noticed a thing when Jimin came back from the bathroom.
So how the hell had Taehyung caught his scent?
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ˗
“You’re going into heat.”
Dr. Hongjoong’s calm voice cut through the silence of the office, but to Jimin, it sounded like someone had shouted it across the room.
He blinked a few times, trying to process the words. His heart gave an uncomfortable jolt in his chest.
“Doctor, that’s impossible.” His voice came out thin, small, and indignant. “You know my cycle isn’t due until the end of next month. My last heat was just over forty-five days ago… and my cycle has always been ninety days. Always.”
The doctor didn’t look away. He simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
“I know. Your records have been consistent and stable. But your body is reacting differently this time. Your hormone levels are rising too fast for it to be a simple fluctuation.”
Jimin swallowed hard, his stomach twisting. He wanted to argue, to say it must’ve been a misreading, but the memories hit him all at once. The whole weekend spent crying himself into exhaustion, the fogginess, the heightened sensitivity, the way his skin burned under the chill of his empty apartment.
And of course, he remembered the scent from that bathroom. That deep, woody cedar that still seemed to cling to his skin, no matter how many showers he’d taken since.
“But… how?” Jimin asked quietly. “My omega’s always been so regulated, doctor. I’ve never had issues like this before.”
Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his lap.
“Omega biology is incredibly complex, Jimin. Small things can have a significant impact on your hormone levels– stress, strong emotions, even stimuli you might not consciously notice. All of that can throw off a cycle that used to seem perfectly stable.”
Jimin clasped his damp hands in his lap, palms sweating. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he knew exactly what kind of ‘stimuli’ the doctor was talking about. The memory of hot breath against his neck made his skin prickle.
“Have you been with a partner recently?” the doctor asked bluntly.
Jimin’s eyes widened.
“What? No!” he blurted out, a little too fast, almost offended. “Doctor, I work more than eight hours a day, six days a week. I barely have time to take care of myself, let alone think about… a partner.”
The doctor nodded, understanding but firm.
“And that might be precisely the problem, Jimin. Your body could be reacting to the lack of that kind of balance. When an omega goes too long without regulating their biology, the symptoms can surface more intensely– more unpredictably.”
Jimin’s face burned. His last partner had been his jerk of an ex, and even before things ended, he’d known it wasn’t working anymore. His omega had stopped seeking comfort in the man’s arms long before the breakup. After that, Jimin had preferred to ride out his heats alone, always too busy with work to bother finding someone he could trust. And now, apparently, it would have to be the same again.
“How long?” he asked quietly.
“A few days. A week at most,” Hongjoong answered calmly, as if he were giving a weather forecast. “I strongly recommend you find a partner, even if it’s only temporary. It’ll make the process less painful and much safer for you.”
Jimin shifted uneasily in his chair, a lump forming in his throat. “Right. I’ll… think about it.”
The doctor simply nodded, jotting down a few notes on the chart, but Jimin barely registered the words. His mind was miles away, looping through every interaction he’d had since the symptoms started, each thought leading, inevitably, to one single alpha.