Chapter Text
The clinic smelled of antiseptic and desperation—Jimin could taste both as he paced the sterile hallway, his fingers trembling against the clipboard clutched to his chest. His chart was pristine, untouched. Again. Just like the last three visits.
"Jimin-ssi?" The nurse's voice was syrup-sweet, pitying. "Dr. Jeon will see you now."
He didn't move at first. Because he knew. Knew that the moment he crossed that threshold, the air would thicken with something darker than medicine. Knew that Jungkook’s scent—burnt cedar and alpha—would coil around his throat before the door even clicked shut.
He knew exactly why he was here.
And yet.
Jimin stepped inside.
The lock engaged with a soft, final sound.
Jungkook wasn’t at his desk. He was leaning against the examination table, arms crossed, white coat hanging open just enough to reveal the taut muscle beneath. His gaze was a brand.
"You’re late," Jungkook said, voice low.
Jimin’s breath hitched. "Traffic."
A lie. They both knew it.
Jungkook pushed off the table, slow, deliberate. "Your pulse is elevated."
"It—it always is. Around you."
Jungkook’s lips curled, predatory. "Good."
Then his hands were on Jimin’s waist, shoving him back against the cold metal. The clipboard clattered to the floor. Jimin gasped, fingers scrambling for purchase as Jungkook crowded him, thighs pressing between his legs.
"Tell me to stop," Jungkook murmured, breath hot against Jimin’s ear.
Jimin arched into him, trembling. "No."
Jungkook’s growl was barely human. "Then beg for what you really came here for."
Jimin’s moan was answer enough.
Jungkook didn’t waste time—his teeth scraped down Jimin’s throat, not quite biting, just enough to make the omega whimper. The scent of slick bloomed between them, thick and undeniable. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on Jimin’s hips hard enough to bruise.
“Already?” he muttered, dragging his tongue along Jimin’s collarbone. “Pathetic.” The word dripped with something filthy—approval, hunger, possession.
Jimin’s laugh was breathless, uneven. “You love it.” He tipped his head back, baring more skin. “Love that I—ah—fall apart just because you look at me.”
Jungkook’s hand slid between them, palming Jimin’s cock through his trousers. “More than look,” he growled. His thumb pressed down, deliberate, and Jimin’s knees buckled. “I’m going to ruin you.”
The omega’s breath came in shallow gasps. “Promises, promises.”
Suddenly, Jungkook spun him around, pressing Jimin’s chest flat against the exam table. The stirrups clanked as Jimin’s legs were nudged apart. Cool air hit his thighs as Jungkook yanked his pants down—no finesse, just raw impatience.
“Fuck,” Jimin hissed when Jungkook’s fingers dragged through his slick, spreading him open. “God, just—”
Jungkook’s chuckle was dark. “Not yet.” He pressed two fingers in without warning, curling them just right. Jimin cried out, hands scrabbling against the paper-covered table. “You’ll take what I give you.”
Jimin’s next words dissolved into a moan as Jungkook’s other hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back. The alpha’s breath was ragged against his ear. “Say it.”
“Yours,” Jimin gasped, writhing against the fingers fucking into him. “Always yours—”
The door rattled.
They froze.
“Dr. Jeon?” A nurse’s voice, muffled through the wood. “Mrs. Han is here for her 3:30—”
Jungkook’s grip tightened. “Reschedule her.”
A beat of silence. Then, hesitant: “...Of course, Doctor.”
Jimin bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Jungkook nipped at his shoulder in warning. “Think that’s funny?” His fingers thrust deeper, wrenching a choked noise from Jimin’s throat. “You’re lucky I don’t fuck you right here, let the whole clinic hear how greedy you are.”
Jimin’s hips jerked back shamelessly. “Do it.”
Jungkook’s growl was pure alpha—dark, possessive, unraveling. He shoved Jimin’s shirt up, mouth hot against the omega’s spine. “Insatiable.”
The exam table creaked under their weight as Jungkook finally, finally gave him what they both craved.
Jimin gasped when Jungkook’s cock replaced his fingers—no prep, no condom, just the brutal slide of alpha claiming omega. Jungkook didn’t go slow. He never did. The first thrust punched the air from Jimin’s lungs, his body arching off the table as Jungkook buried himself to the hilt.
“Fuck—” Jimin’s fingers clawed at the paper beneath him, tearing it. “Jungkook—!”
The alpha’s hand smacked down on his ass, sharp enough to sting. “Doctor,” he corrected, voice rough. His hips snapped forward again, relentless. “Say it.”
Jimin moaned, high and broken. “Doctor—ah! Doctor Jeon, please—!”
Jungkook’s teeth sank into the meat of his shoulder, muffling his own groan. The pain-pleasure made Jimin’s vision whiten. He could feel Jungkook’s knot already forming, thick and insistent against his rim.
“Gonna—” Jimin’s voice cracked as Jungkook’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. “Gonna come—!”
Jungkook’s chuckle vibrated against his back. “Not yet.” He slowed, dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in. Jimin sobbed, his thighs shaking. “Wait for me.”
The door rattled again—another patient, another interruption. Neither cared. Jungkook’s rhythm turned punishing, his breath ragged in Jimin’s ear. “Feel that?” He ground his hips in deep, knot catching. “Mine.”
Jimin came with a cry, slick and spend painting the exam table. Jungkook followed, his bite breaking skin as he spilled inside him. For one dizzying moment, the world narrowed to their shared panting, the scent of sex thick enough to drown out the antiseptic.
Then, softly, Jungkook licked the blood from Jimin’s shoulder. “Next time,” he murmured, “at least wear the gown.”
Jimin laughed, weak and sated. “You’re terrible.”
Jungkook pressed a kiss to his nape. “And you keep coming back.”
The door rattled again. Jungkook sighed, pulling out slowly. Jimin whined at the loss, feeling the mess between his thighs.
“Clean yourself up,” Jungkook said, tossing him a packet of wipes. His tone was all doctor again—calm, composed. Like he hadn’t just wrecked Jimin on his own exam table. “I have patients.”
Jimin watched him adjust his coat, hiding the evidence of their tryst. He grinned. “So about Thursday?”
Jungkook’s smirk was fleeting, dangerous. “Next Thursday. Don’t be late.”
Jimin’s pulse jumped. He wouldn’t be.