Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Argh!" Namjoon jabbed at the keyboard. Once again, he and Jimin waited, and once again, the computer returned zero search results. The screen blinked at them, almost as if it were mocking Namjoon's frustration. "I swear I saved those files somewhere."

"It's okay," Jimin said patiently. "You'll find them."

"No, I'm sorry, it's just…" Namjoon grimaced and sank back into his chair. "It's just…" He smiled at Jimin in a way that managed to be sheepish and roguish all at once, and for the hundred millionth time in his life, Jimin felt a butterfly swarm of affection for this man. "I hate to ask, but can you do up one more button on your shirt?"

Jimin looked down at himself. He'd carelessly pulled on a loose-fitting shirt after his workout, but it was workplace appropriate, especially since "workplace" at this moment consisted of the two of them alone in Namjoon's studio. Jimin puzzled at the request; even at their most dazzling, his looks shouldn't have been able to distract non-sentient objects like a computer or make Namjoon forget how to use the search function. But he obligingly slipped the lowest unbuttoned button through its hole, and then one more, just to be safe. "Was I showing too much chest?" he asked, not bothering to sound remorseful but still trying not to sound too eager.

"No, you're fine. It's me." Namjoon ran a hand over his head. "I'm the distracted one. I'm just very aware of your chest right now. Very aware of you. Like…in a sex wolf sense."

Jimin's butterflies disappeared. His stomach suddenly felt heavy. "Oh."

He hadn't intended to meet up with Namjoon today, let alone in a room with him while looking casually sexy. Since Namjoon learned about his presentation two weeks ago, they'd all been busy with work, and Namjoon had assured them he was doing okay but that he was extremely uninterested in sex. (Apparently, it was an anti-aphrodisiac to learn he'd unwittingly been running the admittedly-slight-but-definitely-more-than-zero risk of accidentally getting pregnant, and also, he was too internally preoccupied by this revelation to have the emotional energy for sex in the first place.) Everyone had been supportive, and Jimin personally had resolved to trust Namjoon and to give him all the space and time he needed.

But Namjoon had caught Jimin after his workout and asked if he'd come to his studio to check out some samples he was considering using in a song, and now they were alone together, and Namjoon couldn't find the files he'd saved, and without the samples to listen to, it was evidently time to talk about the elephant in the room. The sex wolf in the room, as it were.

Which was fine by Jimin. He could handle a tough conversation, and also, he was admittedly dying of curiosity—he really, really wanted to know how Namjoon was doing with this whole "surprise, you presented as an omega months ago and didn't realize it!" thing.

"So you're in touch with your sex wolf, then?" Jimin asked lightly.

"Yes," Namjoon said wryly. "Or at least I am now."

"That's good," Jimin said. "I guess you and Taehyung are both naturally more in tune with your wolves than I am."

"I talked with Taehyung about it a couple days ago, actually. He and I do have similar relationships with our sex wolves. At least to an extent. Like, mine's definitely present and talking to me, like Taehyung's, but mine is also…mad at me."

Jimin stared. "Um. What?"

"Yeah," Namjoon said, turning his gaze toward the unhelpful computer screen. "It's mad at me for ignoring when it showed up, and so now, it's always here. And I don't think it trusts me."

Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't as prepared for this conversation as he thought. While his experience with Taehyung introduced him to the reality that everyone had different relationships to their sex wolves than he did, he didn't know to expect this from Namjoon. And despite the fact that Namjoon was kind of easy to read and always had been, Jimin still wished that he could use his sense of smell to help navigate the nuances of Namjoon's feelings right now; unfortunately, despite having the necessary organ and hormone shifts of an omega, Namjoon hadn't yet developed a scent or an omegaverse sense of smell himself. It was just another aspect of his idiosyncratic presentation. So Jimin had to read Namjoon's feelings the normal way: what he said with his face, his feelings, his words. "What makes you think that?" Jimin asked gently. "Why wouldn't it trust you? What's it doing?"

"It's very…prowl-and-growl. I think that's the best way I can describe it right now. It demands attention. It has a lot to say."

"About what?"

"Everything about omegas and alphas. It doesn't trust me to notice anything, so it just…over-explains and points out what it wants me to pay attention to. Like, for example, your chest."

Jimin looked down again at his shirt and decided to just do it all the way up. So now he was completely buttoned, and his clavicles were discreetly covered, and even his rabble-rousing shoulder blades were firmly secured in place underneath the fabric. Not a single unexpected peekaboo of skin. This was a tremendously heroic amount of correctly-wearing-a-shirt for Jimin, but the sacrifice was necessary.

Not that he had anything against Namjoon, or his sex wolf, looking at him, but right now, the conversation was more important than anyone's libido.

"Is your sex wolf trying to get you to go into heat?" he asked hesitantly. "I know you might not be able to tell, but—"

"Oh, no, it's not," Namjoon said breezily. His certainty felt startlingly genuine. "I'm not going into heat yet, and I know that because my sex wolf told me it's not going to let me go into heat until it trusts me to understand what's happening, and when I do, it will tell me so in unambiguous terms, so there'll be no confusion."

A lot of what Jimin wanted to say right now was just swear words and question marks, but he knew he needed to believe Namjoon. He knew he did believe Namjoon. If there was anything absolutely certain about this sex wolf gender apocalypse, it was that there was no end to the weirdness of this situation—that it required Jimin to keep believing in things that should be impossible, and that it required Jimin to understand that everyone was going through these things in their own individual ways.

So the fact that Namjoon was apparently being dommed the hell out of by his supposedly submissive sex wolf? Sure. Whatever.

If Namjoon was rolling with it, then so would Jimin.

"And, to be honest, I'm pretty sure my sex wolf likes me, even if it's frustrated with me," Namjoon continued. "I've had worse internal monologues running through my head over the years. I know from experience that I'm personally capable of being a lot more abusive to myself than this sex wolf is. Even though it thinks I'm being stupid, it's trying to take care of me." He hesitated. "Which means I'm still not sure if it is me, if it's a fragment of me, or if it's something else entirely."

"I'm glad to hear it likes you," Jimin said, to start with. He didn't want to miss the opportunity to be supportive, no matter how strange the situation. "It's a good thing to have something inside of you making sure you're being taken care of, whether that's actually your own voice or not. Most of the time I realize I need to be nicer to myself, it's because I hear your guys' voices in my head telling me to."

Namjoon looked at him with an expression that was both fond and concerned. "We're all a little fucked up, aren't we?"

Jimin shook his head. "We'd be a lot more fucked up if we didn't have each other. So I think we're doing really good, actually. So how do you think we can get your sex wolf to stop being frustrated with you?"

"No fucking clue. But I think it has a point about me needing help. And, honestly, I wasn't purposely ignoring it when it arrived. I still don't know when I actually presented. I can think of dozens of times I didn't feel well and just ignored it. Like the time I drank expired milk. Or the time I ate undercooked chicken. Or the other time I ate undercooked chicken. Or one of the times I was hungover. Or the time I made myself nauseous after reading too much about the global rise of fascism. I don't know."

"It's okay if you never figure it out," Jimin said.

"Yeah, I know." Namjoon sighed, then sat up straighter. "Thanks for listening, though. I might be coming around to wanting to actually have sex again soon. Normal sex, or heat sex, whenever it happens. Not yet. But right now it feels good to just tell you all of this."

"I'm glad you told me. I'm sorry I have no answers, only questions. But I want to listen and be supportive."

"I know." Namjoon slid him a glance. "And my sex wolf does like you, you know. It trusts you. Like I do."

Something warmed inside Jimin, and he felt…good. Even if his own sex wolf was a non-existent presence most of the time, there was something about Namjoon's statement that made Jimin feel whole and feel wholly good.

"Also, if you want to undo a shirt button or two again, you can. I'll keep myself under control."

Jimin laughed and complied. Namjoon tried to find the samples again, this time organizing files by date, and Jimin simply focused on being a supportive and trustworthy presence.

Like Namjoon's sex wolf, apparently.

Seokjin stopped by a little while later. They told him what they were ostensibly working on—finding Namjoon's files—and in true Kim Seokjin style, he solved it immediately. "Namjoon-ah! Did you save the samples to your home computer and not your work computer?" he asked. "And didn't sync it to the cloud?"

"Uh. Possibly. Probably." Namjoon cocked his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's where they could be. At home." He thumped a fist against his forehead. "Damn it."

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell if you're sincerely surprised, or if I've just exposed the lie you used to get Jimin alone in your studio and seduce him."

"Poor innocent me," Jimin agreed cheerfully. He was pretty sure Namjoon had genuinely forgotten where he'd saved his files, but he was grateful for the opportunity to talk to him about what was going on.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to delight in Seokjin accusing Namjoon of debauchery, though.

"Seduce him?" Namjoon gestured around wildly. "I'm the one being seduced! Look at him!"

"Excuse me," Jimin said, trying to maintain a tone that was both sassy and angelic, "but I buttoned my shirt all the way up because your sex wolf was distracting you!"

Seokjin pointed at him. "That's what you call fully-buttoned? Your top two are undone!"

"Okay, my shirt was fully buttoned, but then Namjoon-hyung told me I could undo some of them."

Seokjin whirled his accusing finger back to Namjoon. "See! You are seducing him!"

Namjoon threw his hands in the air. "I'm celibate right now! I'm not seducing anyone!"

"And how is that going, the celibacy thing?" Seokjin asked. The humor hadn't left his voice, but his curiosity and care were also evident. That was the danger of having Seokjin around, Jimin knew; one second, you were laughing, and the next, you'd be talking sincerely.

"It's both what I want and what I need right now," Namjoon said. "Though I am coming around, I think. And my sex wolf isn't mad at me for not wanting to have sex right now. It's cool with that. It is, though, frustrated with me for having not been aware of its existence for months."

Seokjin stared at him. "Wait. Is your sex wolf being mean to you? Is it allowed to do that?"

Namjoon filled him in on his relationship with his sex wolf, and Jimin watched the roller-coaster of disbelief and belief that Seokjin went through, trying to follow and understand. He felt kind of bad, knowing that Seokjin had none of his own experience to compare this to, but it was calming to once again hear Namjoon emphasize that he felt liked by and taken care of by his sex wolf.

"This has convinced me more and more that I am actually a beta," Seokjin said. "I'm going to choose to be a beta."

"No one even knows if betas exist," Jimin reminded him. "And also you don't get to choose."

"Says who?" Seokjin retorted, and he looked at his watch. "When did you guys last eat? Let's go grab something."

Jimin wrinkled his nose. "Bossy."

"I may not be a sex wolf, and I may not have a sex wolf myself, but I can in fact make sure neither of you starve, and isn't that both sexy and alpha-beta-omega wolf of me?"

"Sure, hyung," Namjoon said.

The three of them joked a little more, and by the time Seokjin bodily herded them out the door, Jimin realized that'd probably been his intentions all along, even before they got distracted by accusations of seduction and explanations of sex wolves: Seokjin was going to make sure they ate. And that was alpha-beta-omega of him, or perhaps just Seokjin of him.

A surprise pang of yearning hit Jimin, a knife-sharp sliver of needing something he didn't—and currently couldn't—have: he wanted Seokjin to be an alpha. He took such good care of them all. He bossed them around. He knew how to play with everyone and how to manage them. And as oldest of the seven of them, it'd just be so easy and simple to respect the natural hierarchy of it.

And Jimin now realized that at least part of him was waiting for Seokjin to come take his rightful place as pack alpha.

He mentally locked that thought away, because it wasn't useful to want that right now. It wasn't useful to think about it right now. Seokjin—especially Seokjin, of all people—could only ever be himself, and what he was right now was unpresented. It was unfair of Jimin to be wishing and waiting like that.

They made it into the elevator and were debating where to go eat when Seokjin checked his phone and gave a sharp intake of breath.

"What's the matter?" Jimin asked.

"I have to cancel our plans. I forgot I have a date with Yoongi." Seokjin stared down at his phone, typing something furiously.

"What?" Namjoon asked. "Just invite Yoongi to come along with the three of us."

"Yeah, what's so special about Yoongi?" Jimin demanded.

"Sorry," Seokjin said. He put his phone in his pocket. "I'll see you guys later." The elevator doors opened, he darted out at top speed, yelling, "Sorry! Bye! Make sure you eat something!"

Jimin stared after him.

"Did he seriously just ditch us for Yoongi?" Namjoon sounded just as confused as Jimin felt.

"Yeah, he did."

"For a date he'd completely forgotten about until this moment?"

"Yeah, he did."

"That's strange. He doesn't forget things as important as a planned date. And we all could have eaten together, before he and Yoongi go do whatever they intend to do."

"Strange," Jimin agreed. But definitely not weirder than any of the other stuff going on in their lives. As far as things to worry about went, Seokjin being uncharacteristically forgetful and Yoonjin being characteristically clandestine about their weirdo dates—it probably involved fishing, no one else cared! they could go off and do it and no one else would feel left out!—was not something Jimin was going to devote too much brain space to. "Let's still go eat, though."

"Let's go on a better date than the two of them," Namjoon said with feeling.

Jimin shook off all other thoughts to concentrate on this: him and Namjoon together, both of them okay despite all the insanity. "I better undo one more button, then."

And he did exactly that.

~

Jimin still hadn't put two and two together by the time Yoongi showed up at his place unannounced the next day, so he remained clueless even upon opening the door and immediately getting smacked in the face with the scent of ocean.

He'd smelled plenty of fake ocean spray scents before in his life. They were all insults to the actual oceans that Jimin happened to love a lot, actually.

This, though. The smell that hit Jimin was the ocean. This was his lungs already full of cold salt air and his nose tickled by the chemical tang, and he could practically feel sand and rocks slipping beneath his feet.

Based on the smell, he expected to see Yoongi soaking wet and drenched in seaweed from head to toe, but he was only standing at the door, looking at him Jimin with a very blank expression. He was entirely dry and incongruently unmermaid-y. "Did something happen when Seokjin-hyung took you fishing last night?" Jimin asked as he ushered Yoongi in. "Did you fall into the sea?"

Yoongi stared at him. "No? We didn't go fishing. Why do you ask?"

"Because—" Jimin was about to say "because you smell like the ocean" and then realized what that meant.

Oh. Shit. Yoongi.

"Yoongi." He stepped forward and grabbed Yoongi into a hug. It took Yoongi only a couple moments to hug him back.

Jimin felt idiotic—this was the second time he hadn't recognized what it meant when one of his people had a scent, so now he was two for two for being the most stupidest alpha in existence. He'd probably take even longer than Namjoon to catch on whenever Namjoon finally developed a scent.

But as he held Yoongi, he also realized there was something else to Yoongi's scent: cold winter sea, yes, but also a sort of hum—if a scent could hum—running underneath. Or over. Or threaded into that scent itself, knitted deep into what it was.

That hum of it emanating from Yoongi—an attentiveness, a consciousness of power, a wary receptiveness, a vulnerableness—tugged at Jimin. Made his own insides feel a little swoopy. Made him want to hold Yoongi even tighter.

He could tell Yoongi was an omega, just by scent.

Jimin swallowed hard.

"Why did you ask if I fell into the sea?" Yoongi asked. "Why did you ask about fishing?"

"Because you smell like the ocean, and I thought you and Seokjin went on some nerdy fishing date last night, and maybe you fell into the water or something."

Yoongi pulled out of the hug. "I smell like the ocean?"

"Yeah," Jimin said.

A dramatically horrified look crossed Yoongi's face. "Do you know what the smell of the ocean actually is? It's all the bacteria from marine life digesting each other and decomposing and sending out sex pheromones."

"I like how you smell!" Jimin said insistently, and he grabbed him by the neck and hugged him again. "Also, I looked it up once, the science of the ocean, and I think there's the scent of seaweed sperm in there, too." Underneath him, Yoongi made a disgusted noise. "But I like how the ocean smells. I like how you smell," Jimin said again before he let him go.

Yoongi looked at him. "Can you tell my subgender from my scent?"

Jimin nodded, and when he did, he felt a flicker in Yoongi's scent, kind of like a skipped heartbeat. He said softly, "I couldn't with Taehyung, but I can with you."

"Okay, then." Yoongi sat himself down on Jimin's sofa. "So I don't need to tell you. Why did you think hyung and I went fishing?"

"Because he checked his phone and suddenly ran out on Namjoon and me, saying he forgot he had a date with you." Jimin joined him, but on the other end of the sofa. He faced Yoongi, though. "So I made the assumption that you two had some secret fishing date or something."

"No. We did have a secret pact, though." Yoongi kept his gaze on Jimin, very gentle and very calm. His scent, though, was brisk and bracing.

Not for the first time in his life, Jimin marveled at how Yoongi kept his emotions under control, and not for the first time, Jimin felt himself on alert by that reserve, knowing that Yoongi was purposely holding back how he really felt. He wondered if Yoongi had any clue just how much his scent was revealing to Jimin right now. This felt a little like when they were much younger, when both of them were very bad at trusting people, and that made him a little scared, and a little sad.

Then he realized Yoongi had said the words "secret pact."

"What do you mean?" he asked, intrigue winning over everything else.

"Back when this apocalypse stuff first started, Seokjin-hyung and I talked about it—well, complained about it—and made a pact. The first one of us to present, we'd tell the other one, and they'd drop everything to go with them to the hospital. No drama, no theatrics."

No drama, no theatrics, but a promise they wouldn't be alone. Jimin's heart tightened, thinking of his two hyungs planning that for each other. "That makes sense. I'm glad you made that arrangement."

"Both of us thought not making a big deal of it would make it a little more bearable, but we'd still have someone there."

"It was a really good idea," Jimin assured him. Though he wouldn't call Seokjin high-speed ditching him and Namjoon in an elevator drama-free, it was drama-free for Yoongi, which probably helped him a lot. "All our other presentations have been dramatic. Well, Taehyung and I were both dramatic about ours. Namjoon's was kind of unclassifiable." Though definitely not undramatic.

"I wanted to talk to you next. To tell you next." Yoongi pulled his legs up on the sofa and wrapped his arms around them. Jimin resisted the urge to throw himself on top of him and cover him up with his whole body. "But I guess I don't need to tell you. Why can't I smell you, though?"

"I've been using scent blockers for months now, ever since I presented. My scent's apparently really faded by now."

"What do you smell like?"

Jimin shrugged. "Taehyung told me I smelled like the first day of school, whatever that means. Probably cleaning detergent and erasers."

Yoongi smiled a little. "Honestly, that kind of fits. There's something very first-day-of-school about you, Park Jimin."

Jimin smiled back. "I'm not offended. And sorry if I offended you with the ocean stuff. People really like how the ocean smells, even if the causes of those scents are gross."

"I know. I guess it fits, too."

"I like your scent a lot. And next time you see Taehyung, smell him and tell me what you think he smells like. He's on this experimental scent blocker that lets only bonded packmates smell you, and even though we're not actually bonded, I swear I can smell him still."

"I'll do that. I haven't talked to him yet. I haven't told anyone else yet. Just Seokjin-hyung, and now you. I wanted to tell you next, though, because you went through all of this first. Because I know you'll understand a lot, and if you don't understand, you'll try to." Hesitation crossed his face, and his scent softened in a way Jimin wasn't expecting—less bracing, more consoling. "It's not out of some innate desire to inform the pack alpha."

"I'm not the pack alpha," Jimin said very quickly. He belatedly noted that his heart had started racing. He wasn't a pack alpha. He was an alpha waiting for the rest of his pack. Big difference.

"The…currently-most-experienced alpha in this not-really-yet-a-pack," Yoongi said, and he looked very steadily at Jimin. Jimin nodded back. "The point is, me wanting to tell you next is what I'd do even if you weren't an alpha. I wanted to talk with you because you're you, and you're very good at taking all of this in an undemanding, calm way. Like there's nothing about gender or sex that's going to surprise you."

Jimin didn't know what to say. He was still trying to stop hearing the words "pack alpha" thud through his brain. "I try not to be judgmental, I guess?" He could be judgey as hell about everything else in this mixed-up world, but people's own experiences of gender and sexuality and sex? Nope. Open mind, open heart.

"I think I'm going to say something that'll surprise you, though." Yoongi's scent spiked again: too tangy, too anxious. "I don't want it to hurt you, but that's not up to me, so I should probably just say it."

"Just say it," Jimin said encouragingly. Then because Yoongi didn't move and didn't speak, he added, "I won't lie about being hurt or not."

Because that was it, wasn't it? He couldn't promise he wouldn't be hurt, but he could promise he wouldn't hide it if he was.

Though whatever it was, he would prefer being hurt if it would prevent Yoongi from being hurt.

"Okay." Yoongi took in a deep breath. "I decided I'm going to go through my first heat by myself."

The emotional shifts in Yoongi's scent hit Jimin first. That consoling softness remained, that anxious tang remained: small waves that rolled and lapped, confronting each other but not in contradiction with each other. Underneath all that loomed a deepness that Jimin couldn't read as well, not consciously, but there was defiance and fear and relief and wanting in that expanse, and from that, the hum of omega-ness of those feelings reached out to Jimin.

Reached for him.

And Jimin processed the words. "Okay," he said, balancing himself mentally, emotionally. Balancing his tone of voice. But still his heart was pounding and he felt like telling Yoongi he'd never heard anything so idiotic. "Tell me how you made that decision."

"It's not that I don't trust you and Taehyung. It's not that I want to be with anyone else. And it's not that I don't want to be with you guys." Yoongi said this carefully, each explanation gentle and firm.

"I get that," Jimin said. "I know."

"Do you remember when the two of us talked, after Taehyung presented, about Taehyung wanting you to make sure he didn't dominate you?"

"Yeah."

"Before we talked, and before you even presented, actually, I was thinking about doing this, going through my heat or my rut alone. But that conversation made me realize why it really is important for me to do it on my own the first time."

Jimin had appreciated that conversation a lot. He'd been honest with Yoongi, and Yoongi had recognized all the responsibility that'd been weighing down on Jimin, that he was so scared to be holding on to. It'd felt so good to tell him, so good to have that acknowledged, even if there was nothing either of them could do about it.

Fear and guilt swelled inside Jimin. "If you're trying to protect me, you don't need to do that. I can handle you during your heat. I promise I'd take good care of you, and it wouldn't be a burden at all, no matter what you do or how you feel about what happens during it. I promise."

"I know," Yoongi said. "I know you would, and I know Taehyung would, and I know you guys would make sure I felt good, that I was safe, and that everything went okay. But—" He gave a little laugh as he stared down at the floor. "But like I said, I was considering this decision before we even talked. You said some really smart things, though, that all this gender and sexuality stuff is really big, and it's supposed to be personal, and it's supposed to be private, but now we have to work it out together and while being uncontrollably horny, and…for my first time, I just want to meet myself on my own. I want to be myself on my own. I want to not have to worry about who I'm being for other people." He turned his gaze back to Jimin. "Even if it's people I love. Maybe especially if it's people I love."

And Jimin understood. He knew how difficult it was to maintain any sense of self-determination under the conditions of their lives: living under a spotlight during their most difficult years, having to consider a million different pressures from a million different corners in all aspects both professional and personal. It was a struggle. He knew how much their own senses of self depended on everyone else, and how much their own senses of self depended on other people seeing them, knowing them. They had to fight the world, and sometimes themselves—and sometimes each other—for all the autonomy they needed to try to see themselves clearly, and even to try to be their own selves.

And he knew that sometimes only they could give each other the privacy, the dignity, the respect, the space necessary for that.

It was a difficult tightrope to walk under ordinary circumstances. It felt nearly impossible during circumstances like these.

But he wanted to give Yoongi that space, if he could.

"It's one hundred percent not about you, and one hundred percent about me," Yoongi said. "When I bring myself to you, I want to know who I'm bringing. That's all."

Yoongi's scent had calmed down a lot since he started explaining all of this, and that more than anything convinced Jimin to not argue. Or at least not argue too much. As much as he hated it, he understood Yoongi's choice. "Okay," he said. "I think you know that I was okay going through my rut alone, but it was still really lonely. Like, really really really lonely."

Yoongi nodded. "I know that's going to be a downside."

"That was the hardest part, and the part that hurt the most. Even though I was imagining myself with you guys, it was like a physical pain, and not a good one, that I didn't have anyone touching me." Jimin looked at him carefully, let himself pay close attention to Yoongi's scent, but Yoongi was still calm. "I'm not trying to convince you to make a different decision, but I just want to make sure you're prepared. That you know what you're getting into."

Yoongi nodded again.

"And, um, physically?" Jimin attempted to find the best way to phrase it. "Like, it's going to be different for you than it was for me. Are you prepared for that, too?"

Yoongi scrunched up his face and turned his gaze to the ceiling. "If I told you the amount and variety of sex toys I've bought in preparation, you'd laugh at me."

Jimin couldn't help it: he laughed anyway, out of pure pleasure at the thought of Yoongi's thorough planning. And as soon as he did, Yoongi's scent lifted, sweet and light, and that was the best feeling Jimin could have ever experienced—and when Yoongi joined him in laughing, that felt like the best sound he'd ever heard.

"I'm going to need you to walk me through your entire collection," Jimin said.

"After my heat, we'll have show-and-tell," Yoongi said.

"Looking forward to it." Jimin still smiled at him, but he dropped his tone to something more serious. "And can you let me know when your heat starts? You can just text me a code word or something, if that makes you more comfortable. That way, I'll know what's happening, and you'll know you're not completely alone. And you can always call me."

"I will." Yoongi looked at him. "I'll let you know when it starts, and when it ends. I don't know if I'll want to see anyone immediately afterward, but I'll let you know that, too."

"And you'll be honest about that, right?" Jimin prompted. "As soon as you want someone, you'll ask? Even if it's not me?"

He could tell the moment Yoongi actually listened to him, actually agreed to that sincerely: Yoongi's face flashed with surprise, his scent with something…pleased. He nodded. "I will," he said. "I promise."

Jimin didn't know if it was his sex wolf or just himself that felt satisfied by this response, but that was how he felt. Yoongi wanting to go through his heat alone wasn't great, but Jimin understood why he made that decision, and he trusted that Yoongi truly made that choice for himself, and that it wasn't about him wanting not to bother or burden anyone else.

He studied Yoongi again, took in his calm demeanor, his happy scent.

He hoped Yoongi was doing the right thing. Jimin hoped he was doing the right thing.

~

There were so many things Jimin would rather have on his schedule instead of standing in front of a camera and cheerfully delivering remarks about gender and sexuality. The prepared statement was quick, impersonal, contained more vague enthusiasm than actual substance, and was thoughtfully and intentionally and carefully written and revised by Namjoon, and so obviously the words themselves were not a problem. But still. Jimin would rather go sky-diving. He'd rather answer phone calls from unknown numbers. He'd rather go to the dentist.

However, there was one thing he wouldn't rather be doing: leaving Hoseok to do this alone.

It was the day after he and Yoongi had spoken about Yoongi's presentation. Jimin and Hoseok sat alone together on the floor in a small work room, rehearsing the words until they sounded convincingly spontaneous while still accomplishing the perfect balance of support and wisdom and artful dodging of anything personal. This statement would be just a brief clip in another group's documentary, but it would likely also be posted online as part of a teaser or a behind the scenes bit, so Jimin knew it'd probably be watched millions of times, its pixels lovingly yet hawkishly analyzed down to each breath he took, down to each blink of his eyes.

So far during this apocalypse, BTS had navigated public perception of themselves with deliberate guardedness. At the very beginning, they'd agreed that the ideal way forward was that none of them would disclose their status or their presentation until they were all comfortable with doing so. One member telling the public about their own identity would lead to pressure on the others, to questions and speculations. Personal stuff—what they felt, who they were—would naturally and eventually filter into their music, but they careful not to make any statements that'd leave anyone more publicly exposed than they already were before they were ready.

And so the strategy they agreed on was to say nothing personal and to focus on being generally supportive of everyone's confusion and exploration in this brave new world of surprise genders and new sexualities.

It'd actually been more straightforward and easier than Jimin anticipated, especially when it turned out that none of them would present during those early months. When the apocalypse hit, BTS had a new album ready and a new tour about-to-be-launched: it was a good distraction for them, and honestly, it was probably a good distraction for everyone whose lives touched theirs. It turned out every thing they'd written, every story created through dance, every piece of art they'd made for this era was already about self-exploration and self-acceptance, about perception and perceiving, about the terror and joy of knowing and not knowing yourself. During the tour, during some of the most uncertain early days of the apocalypse, they'd framed things carefully. A video of Namjoon's closing ments at the final concert had gone viral even outside of ARMY, and Jimin was so pleased, because those words summed up everything he had wanted—and still wanted—to believe.

"Everything we created for this album, for this tour, we did before any of this stuff happened," Namjoon had said. "And, speaking for myself, it's crazy how much of it is applicable to what we're all going through, individually and together. And that's comforting in a way, because performing for ARMY, hearing what ARMY thinks about what we're sharing together, it makes me think every day that no matter how weird things get, no matter how confusing things are, we already know what to do. Every tool we need to survive and find ourselves already exists. We've already being doing it all along. And sometimes I know I need a reminder of that. So this is what I keep telling myself: we may be in the middle of an apocalypse, but this…" Namjoon gestured to himself, to the members, to the entire stage, to the ARMY who filled every seat of the stadium and beyond, and to the world at large "…this is still a love story."

Frankly, while those words had set the bar high for grand statements about the apocalypse, it was also very comforting that the world basically considered that BTS making all the statement they needed to. It took a lot of pressure off Jimin, personally, although he'd wrote a lot of letters to ARMY before, during, and after that tour that managed to be very heartfelt and sincere while not revealing anything too personal.

Other people in the industry, though, were taking other paths. The few openly queer artists and groups in the industry were making interesting art about the whole "hey, guess what, gender and sexuality are insane right now, but they always have been!" deal, but the mainstream was by and large playing it safe, some companies and groups even making a moral virtue out of ignoring what was going on and criticizing anyone enjoying this brand new world.

Jimin mostly minded his own business, professionally speaking. HYBE was taking risks—just very slowly. Last month, Choi Yeonjun released an explicit-yet-ambiguous single that included a line about "I'll be your alpha, your omega / let my rut be your vacation, let my heat be your salvation" which succeeded in not tipping his hand about his own presentation but still acknowledged the glorious sexiness of playing with gender and sex. Jimin was pleased Yeonjun could continue his work of inflicting people with even more sexual crises despite the world already being overrun with them. Good for him.

But a while back, before Jimin or any of the rest of BTS had even presented (excepting for whatever the fuck had been going on with Namjoon), he and the other members had been approached by members of one of the company's girl groups, asking their seniors if they'd lend their support for a project they wanted to pull off but weren't sure their label or the company higher-ups would approve.

All the members of this group had presented as alpha early on, and now they wanted to release an EP declaring that. They'd been working on songs. They'd been storyboarding videos, planning out entire imaginative universes. They'd been making real art about their real lives, and they'd been strategizing among themselves about how to publicly steer their way through this situation, what and how they wanted to communicate, staying in control of the narrative and their own careers both.

And the girls knew that there was going to be pushback about it. With girl groups in particular, both company-wide and across the industry, labels were being extremely risk-averse, knowing that the boys and men in those girl group audiences didn't want to have sexual crises over if and how they were attracted to the idols in whom they already had fannish investment (read: reality might ruin the sexual fantasies those men already had). Which Jimin thought was really stupid, for multiple sexist and homophobic reasons, but mostly because what was the point of trying to please the least imaginative, most regressive people in your audience?

So, honestly, Jimin was really happy the girls were smart and brave enough to ask BTS to lend their weight to get the company to agree. And everything fell into place so that when they brought their proposal to the decision makers, not only was their own artistic vision strong and unified, not only did they provide some compelling statistical and financial arguments, not only did they have some of the company's best producers ready to go to bat for them, they also had pledges from all seven BTS members about how, exactly, they'd be publicly supporting them. Namjoon had already been helping with their songs and would probably end up with several co-writing credits. Seokjin had jumped on the opportunity to be the first guest on the show the girls planned on filming to follow the release. Yoongi would provide a remix of their proposed title track. Taehyung and Jungkook drew art that would be included in their album art and in one of the videos. Hoseok and Jimin happily agreed to film dance challenges for the title track.

The girls' proposal was convincing—in truth, it seemed financially risky not to let them make the album—and the company shelved away their objections.

Now the release date was approaching, and today was the day that Hoseok and Jimin were to film their promised dance challenges. They had learned the choreography that morning, and now they had a short break before they actually met up with the girls to film, so they'd taken themselves somewhere quiet and private. They needed to rehearse the statements they were going to "casually" make after filming the actual challenges, just something brief for the documentary that the girls were making for this album. (The girls wanted their point of view to be crystal clear—they wanted to communicate that in no way, shape, or form was the choice to out themselves a result of pressure from any other parties—and HYBE liked making more money, hence: a documentary.)

"It's really exciting to be a part of this project," Hoseok repeated over and over, in slightly different intonations. They'd been sitting on the floor, going over their lines and laughing at each other, but it was time to make sure they had this down. Hoseok took a deep breath and settled on a tone. "It's really exciting to be part of this project. I think it's important for us to make art about…ugh."

"About who we've been and who we're becoming," Jimin prompted.

Hoseok leaned over and dropped his head into his lap. "I know the lines. But I have to be careful how I say the part about 'who we're becoming,' because I don't want to say it in a way that insinuates that I'm an alpha, too. But I don't want to say it sounding like I mean I'm an omega, either. Maybe I should not say 'us' and 'we.'"

"Okay," said Jimin patiently. "How about 'it's important to me to support our juniors who are making art about who they are and who they're becoming'?"

Hoseok didn't lift his head. "I am going to throw up," he announced in a voice that managed to be both sing-song-y and complain-y all at once.

So, obviously, Hoseok didn't have a problem with sex. He didn't have a problem with being sexy, either. On stage, his dick might as well be the uncredited eighth member of BTS.

But Hoseok did absolutely have a problem with being vulnerable.

Hoseok sometimes got accused of not being in touch with his feelings, but Jimin thought that was unfair. Hoseok was very in touch with his feelings—he just didn't want other people in touch with his feelings. Especially not before he had a chance to classify, document, and ideally put said feelings into a spreadsheet and subject them to an introductory seminar about his three-year plan, so that those feelings understood that while they were valid, they were going to be disciplined within an inch of their lives into following Hoseok's schedule, like it or not.

(Jimin, on the other hand, didn't understand how he could even keep other people from touching his feelings. Taehyung usually lovingly cupped and/or groped Jimin's feelings before Jimin even knew he had them. Jungkook slapped Jimin's feelings in the butt on a regular basis, lovingly getting them in gear; Yoongi made it a mission to poke and prod Jimin's feelings, also lovingly getting them in gear. Jimin's messiest feelings leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with Namjoon's messiest feelings was one of the safest things Jimin had ever experienced. His feelings and Seokjin's feelings got into slap fights that turned into clapping games. And Hoseok himself steered and guided Jimin's feelings so much, even if he didn't know it. Jimin's feelings naturally had the fingerprints of all his loved ones the very moment he first felt them.)

But on the Bangtan control freak spectrum, Hoseok was kind of in a league of his own, and Jimin knew—and sympathized with—the fact that there was probably not enough vomit in the world for Hoseok to express his opinion on publicly acknowledging that he was a non-superhuman-being who was critically and continuously vulnerable to the world.

"I keep thinking about Yoongi," Hoseok confessed now. "I talked to him yesterday, and I can't believe how calm he is about it. I would have thought he'd be struggling more with being an omega."

"Really?" Jimin asked. The thought of Yoongi being conflicted about being an omega hadn't even occurred to him. "He likes being submissive, though."

"Yeah, but that's different from it being biologically forced. And it's different from everyone knowing." Hoseok finally looked up. He made a silly face in Jimin's direction before looking up at the ceiling and singing, "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this."

That tiny bit of helplessness Hoseok was showing made Jimin's heart slip. He reached over to rub his leg. "You don't have to worry. Especially not right now. And if you don't want to say anything specific for the documentary today, I'll do all the talking, and you can just smile and act like you're exhausted from all the dancing or something. That would work."

Hoseok shook out his arms and made another face. "I'm fine. I'm over it. I'll deliver my lines perfectly, we'll try not to make each other laugh, we won't sound stilted, and when I'm done, I can go back to forgetting that this omegaverse shit is something that'll happen to me."

He stretched some more, and Jimin could see from his expression he was formulating something else to say, so he waited.

"Yoongi presenting was a wake-up call, I guess," Hoseok finally said. "Like, it happening to you and Taehyung, that seems kind of…like, you guys are always weird about sex and always weird about sex together, so in a roundabout way, it kind of felt normal. And then Namjoon presented, and how it happened was just so Namjoon that it also felt kind of normal. But then Yoongi presented, and that didn't feel normal. Now it feels real to me. Like something that actually is going to happen to me." His voice got very quiet and very thin. "And I realized I really, really hope I turn out to be an alpha."

Jimin tried to keep his face, and his feelings, as still as possible. "You'd be a good alpha," he said, sounding as non-committal as possible. And Jimin knew he'd personally be so fucking relieved if Hoseok did in fact present that way. "But you could be a good omega, too."

Hoseok looked at him, very serious. He shook his head in a tight little way that made it clear that he meant no, he didn't so, but also no, he didn't want to continue this line of conversation at all, that he'd exposed himself enough for the moment.

Sex as power, and sex as vulnerability. Everyone had to deal with both ends of those poles, no matter who and what they were, and truthfully, Jimin had always loved playing with those dynamics, adjusting the levers depending on who he was with and how he felt in that moment. But Hoseok didn't play that way, and honestly, Jimin wasn't shocked that he had a subgender preference.

He knew it just wasn't a good idea to hope for it. As good of an alpha Hoseok would naturally be, anything could happen when he finally presented.

"I was listening last night to these guided meditation podcasts for people who haven't presented yet and have anxiety about it," Hoseok said, swinging the conversation back. "They kind of helped. And they have meditations for anxiety after presenting, too. So don't worry about me. I have resources."

Jimin resisted telling him that he obviously had the rest of them as a resource, too, and that guided meditations and theoretical fretting could only do so much. But he knew Hoseok knew that. Just like Yoongi wanted to do his heat alone, Hoseok wanted to process these things alone. So instead, Jimin said with purposeful casualness, "And you might end up being a beta. Seokjin-hyung seems more and more convinced that he's a beta already."

Hoseok choked out a laugh. "Seokjin-hyung also says that he's going to ride out this apocalypse just fine, because the entire world already assumes he's sexually attracted only to fish. When I pointed out that the world doesn't actually think that, he stared off into the distance and muttered to himself, 'I need to try harder.'"

Jimin laughed, too. "Come on," he said, getting to his feet and pulling Hoseok up after him. "Fuck the script, I'll do all the talking, and you can concentrate on acting like you're too out of breath and exhausted to talk. But be sure you still smile at me adoringly for the camera."

"Oh, that'll be easy," Hoseok said teasingly. He reached out and ran a hand along Jimin's face, tapped his nose. "That's how I look at you all the time."

But he wrapped his arms around Jimin, and the way he hugged him, really leaned into him, let Jimin know how much he did appreciate that Jimin listened to him. Hopefully, they'd talk again later, after Hoseok brooded on it more and maybe after he saw Yoongi come through his heat okay. Jimin would keep an eye on him. He always did.

~

A few days later, Jimin had just finished throwing axes with Jungkook when Yoongi texted him about going into heat.

A friend of Jungkook's from his boxing gym was opening an axe throwing range, and he'd invited Jungkook for a private session before its grand opening. Jimin tagged along because why wouldn't he want to learn how to throw an axe? They had a good time, and Jungkook's friend was a good instructor, and Jimin hit the bullseye enough times to feel like the mightiest lumberjack who ever jacked lumber—even if Jimin's only experience jacking in real life was centered around an entirely different kind of wood. After they posed for a photograph for the venue to frame and display, they were easily convinced to sign the axes they used so that the owner could hang them on the wall, too.

Well, somewhat easily convinced.

"Are you sure about that, hyung?" Jungkook asked his friend. "The axe I used is dirty. Someone might think it's dried blood. They'll think I hurt someone."

"No one's going to think you hurt someone," his friend said.

"And no one's going to think you aimed so badly that you accidentally hurt someone," Jimin added.

"Are you sure? Maybe I should clean this up before signing it."

"It's fine. Trust me, no one's going to think you murdered someone on purpose," Jungkook's friend said, and then, proving that he was in fact a good friend who knew Jungkook well, he added, "And no one who knows anything about you would think you'd be so untidy as to not clean up the evidence after murdering someone."

They were leaving the venue when Jimin got Yoongi's curt, brief message of "going into heat" accompanied by an emoji of fingers flashing a peace sign.

Jimin rolled his eyes—because what did he expect, even after their heartfelt conversation?—and in reply, sent a thumbs up emoji. Then he updated Jungkook.

"I think he'll be okay," Jungkook said. "I don't like that that's what he wanted, though."

"Yeah," Jimin said. Here, the two of them alone in the parking lot, it was safe enough to discuss this, but discussing it wasn't easy in the first place. "I'm going to worry so much about him the entire time. I don't know if he understands just how lonely it's going to be."

"He probably doesn't, but I bet he does understand that there's no way for him to understand beforehand." Jungkook laughed a little at his own phrasing, and Jimin managed a smile, too. "Does that make sense?"

"That makes sense," Jimin said. "And I agree. I don't think he made a bad decision. Just a difficult one."

"He did the best he can do. That's all we can do."

No matter how often it happened—and it happened disturbingly often—he would never get to used to Jungkook imparting thoughtful wisdom. It was astonishing, really, how wise Jungkook ended up when the two of them had nearly identical life experiences! It was still so jarring that he could be so much smarter and healthier about things than Jimin! It was wonderful that he could, and wonderful that Jimin could benefit from it! But it was also mind-boggling and a little annoying.

"Are you okay, though?" Jungkook asked. "Like, is your alpha wolf okay with it? Is it offended Yoongi doesn't want you there during his heat?"

Jimin wouldn't word it that way, not exactly. "I've still never had a sense of any wolf stuff outside my rut and Taehyung's. And Yoongi says that he hasn't any sense of his wolf, either, so it's pretty straightforward between us, really. It's just the two of us, acknowledging it's all tough, but we both want to do what Yoongi wants."

"You're both doing the best you can, and that's all you can do," Jungkook said again.

Jimin made a face. "Stop saying smart, mature things!"

Jungkook laughed. "Yesterday Namjoon-hyung was telling me about how he's doing. I really hope I present before he goes into heat. I don't want to miss out on being with him for it."

Honestly, the idea of wanting to present because of FOMO was top-tier insane to Jimin's mind—though it was reassuring to know Jungkook still had very stupid thoughts in addition to the brilliant ones. "Yours will happen when it happens," Jimin said. "I don't think you want to rush it."

"And I'm glad he and his wolf are friends. I like that for him."

"I like that for him, too, even if it's probably one of the weirdest thing of all the weird things that've happened."

"I thought I'd want to be more like Taehyung and Namjoon, getting a wolf friend out of this whole insane situation, but the more I think about it, the more it seems like it'd just be annoying," Jungkook said. "I think I'm too introverted for that. I don't actually need a sex wolf hyung friend."

And not so long ago, Jimin would have argued that no one needed a sex wolf hyung friend, but Taehyung and Namjoon were both apparently happy about whatever was going on inside of them, so he knew better now than to dismiss the possibility.

They parted ways only after Jimin promised Jungkook he'd let him know when he heard again from Yoongi, and once he got home, all Jimin could do was pace around nervously. He put on a movie he'd seen a million times before, and he ate a meal, and he tried not to look at his phone, although he knew not to realistically expect any update from Yoongi for hours. The chance of Yoongi changing his mind and asking him to come over was about a billion to one, but if he did ask, Jimin wanted to know immediately.

Taehyung messaged the Bangtan group chat; he was just about to board the plane home from Paris. After Yoongi presented last week, Taehyung offered to cut his trip short, but Yoongi had told him no. This was good timing, though. Taehyung would be here when Yoongi's heat ended, so maybe they could all be together then.

So Jimin expected that the next time his phone buzzed, it'd be photos of Taehyung's frolics—he'd been working the entire time he was in Paris, but frolicking was inevitably involved whether Taehyung was on or off the clock—or Hoseok sending croissant emojis, but he was surprised to find it was a message from Namjoon just to him.

It was a truth universally acknowledged that there was never a bad time to receive a horny selca from Namjoon. This was, in fact, a very, very good time to receive a horny selca from Namjoon.

Jimin wasn't sure what exact expanse of skin Namjoon had snapped a picture of and sent him, but it was naked and sweaty, so that was great. This being Namjoon, there was an outside possibility that this picture was both taken and sent accidentally, but Jimin, not only an optimist and hopeless romantic but also a dedicated noter of details, figured that the black-and-white filter applied to this pic meant it was intentional. Probably.

And if Namjoon was coming to the end of his period of celibacy? That would definitely be a good way to distract Jimin from worrying about Yoongi.

"Come over?" he texted.

"5 minutes," Namjoon responded.

~

"I didn't know the selca was that bad until after I sent it." Namjoon didn't sound too apologetic. He had flung himself on Jimin's bed, still a mess from his run—the reason why he was sweaty and nearly naked to begin with—and Jimin had managed to convince him not to take a shower yet. "I honestly thought you could tell it was my thigh. I thought I was being really subtle. Maybe I was too subtle."

Jimin laughed, slipping down beside him. "But worked, didn't it?"

Namjoon turned to face him. "I guess it did," he said seriously. His expression sent a shiver traveling through all Jimin's limbs. He was concentrating like he was making sure he was seeing every inch of Jimin and dividing up his ideas of appetizer, main course, and dessert.

And Jimin was ready for it. This was perfect, actually. Absolutely perfect. He'd get to help Namjoon exorcise whatever demons or existential crises lingered from his misfired presentation, and he himself wouldn't be worrying himself to pieces over Yoongi.

"I think I need to take things slow, but I'm so fucking ready, I could scream." Namjoon sucked in his breath. "Is that okay?"

Is that okay? Is that okay? Sometimes Jimin could strangle this man. "We can go as slow as you want," Jimin said, trying not to let his amusement—fond as it was—show. "And you can scream as much as you want. I'd love to help you with that, in fact."

One of the things about this omegaverse situation that Jimin hadn't anticipated was just how refreshing normal foreplay and normal sex were turning out to be. Just getting to take his time lying in bed, making out with Namjoon, no abnormal sex wolf lust or demands: it was the sex equivalent of an icy drink on a hot day. A warm tea waiting for him on a cold day. A dense shot of alcohol as a reward after a bad day.

Or it didn't need a metaphor at all: it was just like getting to cuddle up in his bed with Namjoon, touching each other senselessly slow and kissing each other slowly senseless.

Heaven.

"I've missed this so much," Namjoon said at one point as he nuzzled Jimin's neck.

Jimin could feel his heart beat in his head. "Me too. So much."

"I've missed being myself with you," Namjoon added in a rush. "That too."

And Jimin felt the truth of that, for both Namjoon and himself. "Same," he said. "So, so much."

Jimin managed to wiggle Namjoon's shirt off him and was in the middle of pulling off his own when his phone buzzed with a notification of someone at the intercom.

Annoyed, he picked up the phone and checked the camera, and his brain broke. The warm and fuzzy bliss of what he and Namjoon were doing shattered instantly.

"Yoongi's here?" he asked, confused. The image was clear, though: that was Yoongi, looking absurdly calm at the door. "Why is Yoongi here?"

Namjoon covered his face and groaned. "Please don't pull a Jin-hyung and ditch me."

"This is wrong," Jimin said, the first stupid words to come to mind. His chest tightened. He couldn't think straight. "He's in heat. What's he doing here?"

Namjoon sat up. "Wait, he's in heat? Right now? Shouldn't he be at home? By himself? Wasn't that his plan?"

"Yes. Yes to all of that." In his panic, Jimin tugged his shirt back on at the same time he shrugged off the other side of it. He managed to toss it off completely as he ran out of the room. He could hear Namjoon stumbling after him.

He threw open the door, letting in a scent he'd never experienced before.

The astonishing thing was that Yoongi looked every bit calm and unbothered and reserved.

But his scent?

Zero calm. Extremely bothered. Nothing held back.

The cold, cold ocean was there, yes, but there was also what felt like a storm rising with it: wind whips of fear and desire, neediness crashing like waves, something darker threatening to surge. That hum of vulnerability and power-awareness and receptivity that had originally tipped Jimin off to Yoongi's subgender was now not just a hum but a live wire, sparking and thrumming and dangerous.

And churning it all was a pulse of lust that seized on to Jimin's own heartbeat and didn't let go.

Jimin latched on to Yoongi's arm before he knew what he was doing. It was partly to steady himself from the dizziness he felt, but also because it terrified him, Yoongi being alone and smelling like that. Feeling like that. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I need something of yours for my nest. A shirt or something." Yoongi's voice was slightly strained, like he was panting just a little from a quick run. Aside from his scent, that was the only obvious sign of what was happening. He couldn't quite keep his eyes on Jimin. "I didn't realize ahead of time that I'd need it. And I do kind of need it."

"Yoongi." Jimin steered him inside and shut the door behind him. Now that Yoongi was safe inside the apartment, his panic subsided by a minuscule amount—and every little bit helped. Presumably. "Yoongi. You're in heat. You shouldn't be here."

"I'm not really in heat yet," Yoongi said. "I don't think it's started."

Yoongi's scent was the equivalent of a neon sign hanging above his head blinking "IN HEAT" over and over, so Jimin begged to differ. "You didn't want us to help," he said with deliberate patience. "Did you change your mind?"

Yoongi shook his head. "No. I still want to do it alone."

Okay. The tightness in Jimin's chest wasn't subsiding, but he could deal with this. "I'll give you some of my clothes, but then I'm driving you home. How did you get here anyway?"

Yoongi slipped out of Jimin's grip, and Jimin's heart kicked. "Hi Namjoon," Yoongi said.

Jimin tore his attention away long enough to spot Namjoon behind him, looking just as concerned as Jimin felt. "Hi hyung," Namjoon said hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

Confusion briefly rippled across Yoongi's face as he glanced between Namjoon and Jimin. "I interrupted you guys. I'm sorry." A note of sourness trickled its way through his scent, and Jimin resisted the urge to take a step back. "I'll leave."

"No. You're not leaving by yourself." Jimin drew in a deep breath, which was a mistake, because he just breathed in the totality of Yoongi's heat scent all over again. He fought back against his senses, tried to maintain a grip on both sanity and a plan. "Namjoon, can you help Yoongi? Take him to my room and grab some of my clothes for him? The shirt I was wearing is still on the floor, probably."

Yoongi looked at Namjoon with an attentive, sharp-edged carefulness. "I…" he said, trailing off hesitantly. Then he switched his quizzical gaze back to Jimin.

"We can still make it work," Jimin said firmly, hopefully reassuringly. "We can still make it work, your plan to have your heat alone."

Yoongi stared at him now, as if he needed to concentrate to read him. It made Jimin's stomach clench, that expression on his face, that knowledge that Yoongi needed to work to believe him—and he wanted to grab on to him again, hold on to him again.

Trying to radiate as much confidence and reassurance as possible, he said, "We still have time, if you go do that now. We'll get your plan back on track, I promise."

"Come on, Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon said. "Do you want my shirt, too? Since I'm not wearing it? Or should I not mention that?" He paused. "If you want my shorts, I can take those off as well."

As Namjoon led Yoongi out out of the room, Jimin did a quick breathing exercise. He counted out his inhales, holds, and exhales. He tried to gather himself back together.

His head cleared without Yoongi in the room, but his panic stubbornly remained.

He hadn't expected Yoongi in heat to hit him so much more strongly than Taehyung in rut, and when he wasn't in the middle of this crisis, he wanted to circle back and examine that. Was this some stupid biological thing? Probably. Fucking biology. Stupid fucking biology. Stupid fucking pheromones. Stupid fucking sex wolf gender apocalypse.

He should've remembered the whole nest thing before Yoongi's heat. He should've found a checklist, if there even existed a checklist for "what to do if your omega doesn't want you to be present for their heat." But other alphas probably weren't as bad at this as Jimin was. They probably didn't need checklists, let alone checklists for when they failed at being a good alpha.

He knew about nests. He'd read up about omegas and nests. He had no excuse.

He should've done better, known better, been better.

But right now, he needed to ignore the reaction he was having to Yoongi. He needed to block himself from taking in Yoongi's scent.

In his bathroom, he yanked open cupboards and drawers. If he had time, he could go on Naver and look up what people did in situations like this—but he didn't have time. He grabbed a container of cotton balls; worse case scenario, he could douse them in something fragrant and shove them up his nostrils. He could deal with the consequences of that later. He rummaged through the nasal sprays he had, all for allergies and not for omegaverse emergencies, but maybe some combination of them could help. He flung aside some of his face masks; he didn't have any with attached respirators. And did he really not own a single pair of nose plugs? Not only was he failing at being a good alpha and a good partner, he was also failing at acquiring basic life supplies. Maybe he could pinch his nose closed with a clothespin, both to block out Yoongi's scent and to make look himself so unsexy and so unfuckable that he would somehow manage to reverse Yoongi's heat process.

And then Namjoon appeared at his bathroom door. "Jimin. I think Yoongi's staying."

"What?" Jimin halted his scavenging and his spiraling. A tiny avalanche of cotton balls spilled out of his hands and onto his bathroom floor. "He can't stay. He doesn't want us to help him."

"I asked him if he's changed his mind, and he said no. But I can't get him to leave your bed, and he keeps trying to get me on your bed, too."

"What." Jimin dropped the rest of his stuff and ran into his bedroom.

Yoongi sat on Jimin's bed, the bed he'd recently helped Jimin construct. (Okay, the bed he recently constructed by himself with Jimin helping a little.) In one hand, he held Jimin's shirt and a cardigan that Jimin had worn yesterday and Namjoon's shirt—and yes, also his shorts.

His other hand dug into Jimin's bed, curled fingers clutching the sheets.

Jimin tried to ignore the absolute chaotic confusion that Yoongi was emanating. He could feel Namjoon standing behind him, not hovering but also not leaving. His presence was comforting, and though Jimin's tension didn't ease, it at least felt more bearable.

He wasn't alone, even if none of them knew how to handle this.

"Let's get you home," Jimin said softly. "Okay?"

"I haven't changed my mind," Yoongi said with remarkable evenness, but when he looked at Jimin, what Jimin felt was a crush of need. His scent was pleading for something, and Jimin couldn't ignore that—or his own feeling of fear. "I don't want help with my heat."

"Okay," Jimin said. "That's fine. Then we'll get you home. Right now."

"But," Yoongi said, and he left it at that.

His scent was no help: it was all chaos and confusion and that pleading request. There was something else in the room building between them, too, but because Jimin hadn't the ability to deal with yet another unknown emotional variable right now, he didn't bother trying to decipher it.

He could read Yoongi's body language clearly enough, though. Yoongi's grip on the bed had tightened as if he were trying to fasten himself there.

They were absolutely in "cat digs claws into furniture in order to avoid being carried off" territory.

And Jimin knew better than to fight with a cat if he didn't have to. There was another solution beside dragging Yoongi back to his own place.

"You can stay here," Jimin said. "Would you like that?"

He could practically feel Namjoon's wave of worry, but Yoongi lifted his head, and his scent became lighter. There was still apprehension, but his fear was ebbing. "Yes," Yoongi said. "Can I?"

"Yeah," Jimin said eagerly. "Of course. It's a good idea. Take whatever you want to build your nest. Whatever you need in general. You know where everything is. I'll go stay with Namjoon, so you can be by yourself—"

Yoongi flinched like he'd just been slapped. A surge of fear rose again between them, the equivalent of a piercing scream.

Jimin's heart choked his throat. He felt as if he'd been suddenly, viciously hollowed out. He didn't understand. This was the perfection solution to their dilemma: Yoongi could still have his heat by himself, but they didn't have to figure out how to get him home safely. And despite Yoongi's prodigious wells of self-control, they were truly running down the clock to him losing the fight against his heat. Bewildered, Jimin asked, "What's the matter?"

Yoongi looked at him, deadly serious. "What about Namjoon?"

Jimin glanced at Namjoon. He was frozen, studying Yoongi closely. He was, of course, half-naked because he'd given Yoongi his shirt and shorts for his nest, and maybe that was Yoongi's objection: logistics. "You can still keep his clothes," Jimin said. "I know I don't have any clothes that'll fit him, but he can borrow a long coat or something. Even if it looks skeevy on him, he'll be decent enough for the quick dash home. We'll be fine. Don't worry about us."

"No, that's not what I mean," Yoongi said, frowning. "I mean, I want to help with his heat."

Jimin frowned too. "If he wants, you can help when he does go into heat," he said. "We don't have to decide right now."

Yoongi shook his head, and at the same time, Namjoon said quietly, "We kind of do. Sorry."

Jimin whipped around. Namjoon looked sheepish.

He smelled sheepish.

That was the other presence in the room Jimin had detected but was ignoring because he sure as fuck didn't need any further complications. He'd assumed it was part of Yoongi's scent's current chaotic range. Apparently not. Namjoon suddenly had a scent, and it was light, so much lighter than Yoongi's had been even at its calmest. His scent made Jimin think of biting into cherries: that press of his teeth against skin, a sinking into flesh, a scraping and sucking of the stone pit inside. The scent had Jimin moving his lips instinctively. It was tart and sweet and ripe, delicate and juicy, stupidly sexy, and indelibly recognizable as Namjoon.

And it buzzed with the same gravitational pull of an omega in heat that Yoongi's scent held. Jimin's insides were melting in a way that would've felt good, that he would've followed up on and enjoyed, if only he weren't in this insane situation.

If only he weren't currently being eaten alive with panic.

"When Yoongi arrived and my sex wolf realized he was in heat, it told me now would be a good time for me, too," Namjoon said, holding out his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry. I was going to say something as soon as we figured out how to get Yoongi home."

"I'm not going home," Yoongi said. "I want to help Namjoon."

Jimin wanted to scream. "Okay," he said instead. "Namjoon, how are you feeling? I mean, how not-normal are you feeling?"

Namjoon opened his mouth as if he were ready to let spill a critique of the concept of not-normal, but then he shut it and collected himself before saying, "I'm fine right now. Still in control. Still myself. Not like…"

They both looked at Yoongi. He still gripped the bedsheets with one hand, but his hand full of clothes was rubbing up and down his thigh, and he was squirming even as he kept his eyes on them. Whatever self-control he had left was obviously draining fast. "Ignore me," he said.

Namjoon turned back to Jimin. "I'm not like that yet," he said diplomatically.

Yoongi held out his fistful of clothes to Namjoon. "Do you want one of Jimin's shirts, too?"

"Uh, sure? I'm not really feeling like a nest yet, but okay." Namjoon tentatively reached out.

And when he did, Yoongi grabbed him by the arm.

Jimin only had time to blink, and in that barely-a-second, Yoongi had managed to yank Namjoon on to the bed with him. There was a commotion of flailing limbs and lobbed swears, and both Yoongi and Namjoon yelled at each other, "I am trying to help you!"

It shouldn't have been funny.

Jimin shouldn't laugh.

But he let out a high-pitched sound and, for a few seconds, he allowed himself a reprieve and let the amusement of this lighten the weight of his bones. Yoongi being conniving and pouncing lightning-fast was something very normal and actually had nothing to do with his wolf (probably). And Namjoon had already said that Yoongi'd been trying to get him on the bed with him—so he had fair warning.

So it was okay that Jimin basically laughed about it. But he leaped in very quickly, elbowing his way between the two of them—who were grappling in a very gentle-but-forceful way which would also be hilarious under other circumstances. In their three-way struggle, Namjoon kind of rolled them all off the bed but Jimin managed to not fall and also to sort of both loosen Yoongi's grip on Namjoon and lightly tug him away.

Which lasted for all of two seconds before Jimin was overwhelmed by trying to hold on to Yoongi while not taking in the entirety of how his scent still pulsed with need need need, and Yoongi took advantage of Jimin's hesitation by flinging himself forward into Namjoon again. "I can do this," he insisted. "You can stay. I can help."

"If you're going to help me, then I'm going to help you," Namjoon said, trying to grab Yoongi's wrists and hold him still. He sounded like he was at the end of his rope but also like he was two seconds away from using what remained of said rope to tie Yoongi up. Jimin understood completely. "It goes both ways!"

"No, you can just ignore me," Yoongi insisted.

"It doesn't work like that!" Jimin managed to pry Yoongi off Namjoon and pulled him backward into a hug. This time, he steeled himself for the job of holding on to him.

But he didn't need to.

At first, Jimin assumed it was another trick on Yoongi's part, the way he suddenly stopped batting at him. His body slumped in Jimin's arms, his back heavy against Jimin's chest. Jimin held on to him, and Namjoon didn't let go of Yoongi, either: he trailed his hands down Yoongi's arms, and he caught Yoongi's hands in his.

For a few seconds, no one said anything. Though they'd stopped struggling with each other, Yoongi was trembling—which clued Jimin in to this not being a trick, this was something else—and all their bodies still jolted against each other with each of their heaving breaths. Jimin tried not to touch Yoongi more than he had to, but maybe a little bit of his alpha sex wolf had kicked in, because he also couldn't not touch him. If his intent to keep Yoongi happy and safe could be communicated through his skin, through his touch, if he could reassure him physically—since apparently words were continually to fail them all—he'd do it.

"I've changed my mind," Yoongi announced. His words were clear, and so was his distress. He was vibrating so hard underneath Jimin, and Jimin didn't feel big enough to contain his own feelings right now, let alone Yoongi's.

And he didn't know whether to trust this choice Yoongi was making now, when it wasn't the choice Yoongi had made before his heat hit. It wasn't the choice he made with a clear head. It wasn't the choice he made before he was unreasonably and uncontrollably horny.

Namjoon drew in a breath, and Jimin could feel him tighten his grip on Yoongi's hands. There was indecision on his face, and Jimin was so, so relieved that Namjoon was here, that Namjoon was still lucid and not caught up yet in his own heat, that Namjoon didn't know what to do, either.

And that was another relief, in a way: if Namjoon too was unsure, that meant there wasn't an obvious way through this that Jimin was overlooking. So Jimin wasn't completely failing as an alpha.

Just mostly.

"Hyung, we want to help you," Jimin said, just in case that hadn't been made clear. He wasn't so sure now. "I promise, we want to help you. How are you picturing this? Like, you want to help Namjoon, but you don't want any help yourself? We can figure out a way. Do you want us all to stay together for both your heats, but you don't want to be touched? If you're afraid about being submissive to me, maybe you want only Namjoon to touch you? Or if you're afraid that—"

Yoongi interrupted Jimin's frantic brainstorming-out-loud. "I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of any of that."

And Jimin realized that Yoongi was telling the truth. His scent wasn't fearful now. His scent had softened in general, and he wasn't shaking anymore.

"I've changed my mind," Yoongi said again, this time with even greater determination. "Don't leave me, and don't make me leave. Don't. Please."

The repeated don't reverberated inside of Jimin. It shook out the dust and clutter in his head. His instincts steadied themselves upright, and his own panic stopped flowing forward, as if he just locked a kickstand against the wheels of this moment.

Something felt different in Jimin's head. Something felt different in his heart.

He felt like he could finally breathe again.

"I won't leave you," Jimin said. He caught Namjoon's eye, and Namjoon nodded. "We won't leave you. And I won't make you leave." And then, because it felt good to say it exactly like that, to make it clear that he understood Yoongi was acknowledging his authority and that Jimin was taking his trust seriously and sincerely, he said it again. "I won't make you leave."

It was slight and subtle, the incremental way Yoongi relaxed against him: no longer that resigned slump, but actual trusting weight shared between them.

"But I need something else from you," Jimin said slowly. He could feel the way those words tugged taut both Yoongi's and Namjoon's attention, and that made all his own feelings snap into place.

This felt right. He was doing this right.

And he was definitely feeling the alpha wolf thing right now, too. Maybe that was part of it, how right this felt.

"I know you want to stay because you want to help Joonie," Jimin continued. It was both insane and insane-making, the way he could feel both Yoongi and Namjoon react to that sentence. Their attention made him feel like he was glowing. "But I need to know you understand that means we're going to be helping you, too. You didn't want that earlier, and it's okay if you've changed your mind, but I need to know you understand this choice. We can make it work, however you want or don't want to be helped, but we need to figure that out right now. If you don't want me to touch you, if you don't want to be knotted—"

"Park Jimin, if you don't fuck me while I'm in heat," Yoongi said—and Jimin's heart soared with joy at how normal he sounded—"I will never speak to you again."

Jimin was caught between laughing and crying in relief. Namjoon grumbled, "What kind of threat is that?" His words, though, were accompanied by an easing of his own grip, his own weight.

"I told you," Yoongi said. He wiggled a hand out of Namjoon's loosened grasp and immediately used it to reach back for Jimin. He folded that hand over Jimin's and squeezed before letting go and slipping himself out from between them. He started pacing. "I told you why I made the decision I did."

"You did," Jimin agreed.

"It's because of me. Not because of you guys. It's not because I don't want to be with you." Yoongi stopped walking back and forth, and he looked pointedly at Namjoon. "I mean, I told Jimin that. Now I'm telling you. It applies to you, too."

"Noted," Namjoon said.

Jimin remembered how Yoongi had put it a few days ago. "You said when you bring yourself to us, you want to know who you're bringing. That's why you wanted to do it alone the first time."

"Yes," Yoongi said, and the way he breathed out that word was like he was cradling it in his hands, creating a nest for it in all the ease and relief they were now feeling. "I don't want to do that to you. To any of you. I'm sorry in advance."

Namjoon shot him a bewildered look. "What are you apologizing for?"

"That I don't know who I'm going to be. I haven't had a sense of whatever my wolf's supposed to be. So I'm sorry for whatever or whoever shows up. I didn't want to do that to you guys. I still don't." Yoongi sank back down on Jimin's bed. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for that," Jimin said. "There's literally nothing you can do or want that we can't take in stride. I swear it." He crossed his heart. "And it's not like your wolf isn't you. It's still you."

"I'm coming to that conclusion, too," Namjoon said. "My sex wolf's me. The way there's also Past Me, and Future Me, there's also Sex Wolf Me. That's how I think it is. It feels separate from who I am in a given moment, but in the end, it's not actually separate."

Yoongi looked at him. "Really?"

"Really," Namjoon said. "Not lying. I have been journaling the fuck out of all this over these past few weeks, and I wasn't really ready to make a definite pronouncement or anything, but that's what I think." He paused. "Although I might feel differently once my heat gets underway. I'm still open to other possibilities, but I think that's where I am now."

"And if you're more like me, then you might not feel anything separate at all," Jimin said, before Namjoon could start revising and over-caveating his theory. "I was scared of that, when I went into my rut. And I was different during my rut, and Taehyung's, but it wasn't like I was possessed. All the feelings of dominance I felt, both times, it came from within me. It was already part of me. It just was something that felt good to come out, in a way I hadn't felt before. It was like a muscle I've had all along, and that maybe I'd been using, but not yet at peak performance levels. And then I was."

Yoongi was paying close attention, his gaze moving between Jimin and Namjoon. His scent was back to something brisk and restful, no longer a panicked storm. Jimin hoped he truly believed them.

Jimin knew Yoongi. For as obnoxiously certain and annoyingly stubborn he could be professionally and personally, as soon as you put him in a social situation, he was the most accommodating, easiest-going of them all. He wanted to make things easier for everyone, and if ever he didn't, he'd work overtime to make things right.

The prospect of not being himself with the people he loved was the roadblock. It'd been scary for Jimin, too.

But he knew now that it hadn't been the case for him. And it wouldn't be the case for Yoongi, either.

"And Yoongi-hyung, you brought yourself to us already," Jimin said.

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be this much trouble, I seriously just needed something for my nest," Yoongi said, and then his expression flickered, and he started looking around for the clothes he'd lost hold of during the wrestling match. "That's the only reason I came here."

"No, I don't mean it literally," Jimin said, as Namjoon scooped up clothes from the floor and handed them to Yoongi, who sat on the bed and held them to himself. Jimin wanted to go to him so badly, genuinely felt like he needed to be touching him, but he held himself back still. "We've already met who you are. We already know who you are when you're in heat. Tell me, when did you realize Namjoon was in heat?"

"As soon as I saw him," Yoongi said. He looked up at Namjoon, and Jimin caught the moment when Namjoon faltered under that gaze. Jimin could only imagine how Yoongi was looking at him, remembering and understanding and knowing. "Then a few moments later, I could tell from his scent. But you didn't seem to know yet, so I was confused."

"And you immediately wanted to help him," Jimin said. "That's who you are. That's who you brought. You brought yourself, the person who forgets their own plans when someone they love could use some help. You wanted to help Namjoon, and you wanted to help me. That's you. That's not a stranger. That's who you brought, and that's who you always are, you idiot."

"Why are you calling me an idiot," Yoongi said flatly, but the way his scent deepened was the most comforting thing Jimin could imagine: it was the most reassurance he could ask for, that Yoongi was himself and knew he was himself. He was, admittedly, rocking slightly against the bed and biting his lip and probably at his very limit of resistance, but he was himself and he knew it, and Jimin was satisfied.

Jimin wasn't scared anymore, either.

"And when you grabbed me and tried to make me get on the bed with you!" Namjoon said. "That was so stupidly you, hyung."

Jimin laughed. "I know! When that happened, I thought, wow, that's very Yoongi of him, we should have seen it coming."

"Please stop talking about me. And I'm not even really in heat yet, I don't think—"

"You idiot," Jimin said again, at the same time Namjoon groaned and said, "Hyung, you are practically humping Jimin's bed! You're in heat!"

Yoongi scowled at them. "If I'm in heat, then why aren't either of you touching me?"

"Because we needed to make sure you're okay with this decision!" Namjoon cried.

Jimin laughed and said, "Okay, okay," and he climbed into bed with Yoongi.

~

It took a few moments of reassuring touching before they could un-discombobulate themselves from everything that had happened and get organized for what was going to happen.

Namjoon took himself for the bathroom for a shower. "My sex wolf says I have enough time before my heat truly hits," he said. "And I really need to shower and clean myself so I'm ready for…" He gestured, blushing. Well, there was that, and Jimin could imagine that Namjoon probably needed a solo mental break after all that had happened.

Yoongi worked on the whole nesting thing. "I don't want actually dirty clothes," he said, but even as those words left his mouth, he was clutching Namjoon's reeking post-run clothes to his chest like he'd snarl at anyone who tried to take them away from him. "I don't want blankets. I don't want to be around blankets. I don't want to be too hot."

Jimin multi-tasked. He stayed beside Yoongi, touching him and kissing him and reassuring him as he made the bed as he wanted, and he messaged the others to update them. He told Taehyung specifically to not worry, that they would all be okay until he arrived. And Jimin genuinely did feel that way—ten minutes ago, he might have been in the middle of a breakdown, but now he felt like he could maybe handle this. Or he could handle this emotionally, at least. Physically was probably going to be a little overwhelming, so he texted Taehyung an additional message: "But please know that your dick will be so welcome when you land!" Taehyung would appreciate that.

"Did we leave your headboard too close to the wall when we built this?" Yoongi asked. He grabbed hold of it and shook it. "Have you tested it out?"

"Nope. I haven't used my own bed for vigorous sex lately." He tried not to laugh, because Yoongi was completely serious. It would figure that Yoongi's nesting would also involve assessing structural soundness. "We'll get to test it out now. But you did a good job building it, I promise."

Yoongi shook his head skeptically. "Where are your towels? We need towels."

"I'll get them." Jimin scooted off the bed. But before he left, he ran a hand over Yoongi's hair. "I promise, you did a good job with the bed. And you're doing a good job with the nest."

"I don't know what Namjoon will want, though."

"We'll play it by ear. We're good at that."

Jimin ducked out to the bathroom to grab towels. He couldn't hear the shower running yet, so he knocked and waited for Namjoon to call him in. Namjoon was leaning against the bathroom counter, typing something on his phone with a frown on his face.

"I need to grab some towels," Jimin said. "You know where everything you need is?"

Namjoon nodded, but he looked distracted.

Jimin didn't want to prod Namjoon too much when he knew the three of them would be spending the next twenty-four hours with nearly zero personal space physically or mentally, but he needed to know. "How are you doing?"

"Still clearheaded," Namjoon said. "Just canceling all the shit I had scheduled for tomorrow, and reassuring Hoseok that Yoongi and I aren't at each other's throats about any of this."

Jimin could understand why Hoseok would be concerned, but he personally wasn't. Yoongi and Namjoon had hit peak intense-weirdness years and years ago, so this was just another bizarre twist in that relationship. Their bond was stronger than any weird sexual situation. Actually, weird sexual situations just made their bond stronger, honestly.

But Jimin was concerned about one more thing. "On that topic," he said awkwardly, "are you okay with what's happening? Because if you don't want to have a heat with Yoongi, we can still work something out." Maybe. It'd be difficult. He wasn't sure Yoongi would handle it well emotionally. But he needed to be just as clear about Namjoon's consent as he was about Yoongi's.

Namjoon shook his head. His scent nipped at Jimin's nose, something bright and decisive. "No. I want this. I'm not leaving him or you."

Jimin exhaled in relief. "I'm glad," he said, and he rummaged in the cupboard for a couple towels. Then he second-guessed himself and grabbed more. How much slick was going to be involved tonight? He had no clue. That was kind of thrilling, actually. The universe owed him a good, sexy surprise after all the awful ones.

"What about you?" Namjoon said.

"What about me? I'm not leaving either of you."

"Are you okay with all this? I know Taehyung will come as soon as he can, but this is a lot to deal with, isn't it?"

"To put it mildly," Jimin said, but he smiled at Namjoon. He was feeling very sincere. He was feeling very confident. He hoped those two things were coming across clearly. "I was so panicked at first. All I wanted was to scream and cry. But I feel a lot better now. We're going to be okay."

And of course as soon as he said that, the sound of something crashing came from elsewhere in the house, and for the second time that night, he and Namjoon went running through his apartment to figure out what the hell Yoongi was doing.

The bedroom was empty.

Jimin banged his shoulder into the door frame as he rushed through the hallway. His panicked brain couldn't imagine what, exactly, Yoongi was up to, but it definitely wasn't what he found: Yoongi dragging a mattress out of Jimin's guest room.

Or trying to, at least. It was a lot to maneuver in a tight space, especially for someone who didn't have a firm grip on themselves physically right now, and so it was stuck in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Jimin asked. Namjoon skidded to a stop behind him.

"We needed another mattress," Yoongi said, meeting Jimin's eyes somewhat defiantly and also guiltily. So he still had the sense to understand he was doing something ridiculous—even if he was unapologetic about it. "We need it in your room. Namjoon's going to want more space for himself. Now we'll have both the bed and the mattress to work with."

"Oh." Namjoon gave Jimin an embarrassed little shrug. "He's not wrong. It's a good idea."

Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose and waited for his heart rate to stabilize again. There was no use arguing with either of them. It was true, Namjoon would likely need more room than just Jimin's bed, and he usually did appreciate more space to himself, not tolerating sharing a bed for very long. It was smart and good and Yoongi of Yoongi to anticipate that.

But for fuck's sake. It was also stupid and bad and Yoongi of Yoongi to try moving an entire mattress on his own while he was still struggling to hold back the effects of his heat.

With a sigh, Jimin scrambled over the stuck mattress to grab it from the other end. The three of them managed to yank it free and lug it down the hallway.

They dropped the mattress down on Jimin's bedroom floor. It didn't leave much room for anyone to move around between the bed and the mattress, but it wasn't like there'd be much walking involved in heats. Probably.

"There," Jimin announced, and without waiting for anything else, he wrapped an arm around Yoongi and pulled him to the actual bed. "You did a great job with the nesting prep, and now you're done."

"Do we need to put new sheets on it?" Yoongi said, still looking anxiously at the mattress.

"No," Jimin said, gently pushing Yoongi down on the bed.

"And I thought you were getting towels."

"I was! I left them in the bathroom when I heard someone getting a mattress stuck in a doorway."

"I'll bring them after my shower," Namjoon said. "Will you guys be okay for a few minutes?"

"Yes," Jimin said. "We are absolutely done with rearranging the furniture."

Namjoon gave them a salute before ducking out the door. Yoongi, still obediently lying on the bed, saluted him back.

Jimin rolled his eyes, but he climbed on to the bed and clambered over Yoongi.

For a moment, he just held himself over Yoongi and looked down at him.

Yoongi studied him right back. "What if the headboard's too close to the wall?"

"It's not too close. It's fine."

Slyness slipped into Yoongi's expression, and if Jimin hadn't clocked it before, he knew now that he was officially being teased. "Let's move the bed, just in case."

"Stop it," Jimin said, and he dropped his mouth to Yoongi's to shut him up in the best way.

Yoongi laughed and kissed him back.

Jimin didn't even need to use his sense of smell to know that Yoongi had let go—had let go of those last pieces of resistance and worry—because he could feel it in Yoongi's entire body. But his scent was amazing too: still delirious with lust, but now so fucking happy.

Jimin felt it himself, too, that the weight from all the chaos and panic of the evening was fading away. Finally, he was able to let go, too. Finally, he was able to just focus on loving the people in front of him. Finally, he was able to just be.

His mouth didn't hesitate. Lips, teeth, tongue: not one moment of worry, not one ounce of analysis. All instinct. Yoongi gave back as good as he got, and Jimin had to break their kiss first because he was too dizzy and needed the oxygen.

Yoongi's hands claimed their territory by roaming Jimin's back, gripping his arms, stroking his sides. Jimin's own hands didn't waste time, either. He ran one down Yoongi's thigh, then up, and relished the way Yoongi writhed under his touch, even over his clothes.

Which was something Jimin needed to remedy. He slipped a hand beneath Yoongi's waistband and followed the curve of his ass.

And then he did hesitate a second. Gently, he traced the butt plug he found there and laughed. "Oh, shit. You were prepared."

"I told you, I bought so many fucking things so that I could have my heat alone, and I was ready to, I was going to, but then I needed—" And all of a sudden Yoongi gasped and grabbed Jimin's wrist. "Wait. Don't."

Jimin had barely touched the plug, but he froze.

"The plug has a thing that unlocks the knotting mechanism. Don't touch it. I don't want it to knot me. I want…"

Jimin watched the way Yoongi's face flushed, and he decided to be a teeny tiny bit evil. "You want…?" he prompted, and he allowed himself a smirk.

Yoongi screwed up his face and looked away, but he still held Jimin's wrist. His thumb started stroking Jimin's skin there, too. A few seconds later, he said, "I want you to knot me."

Jimin moved his hand so he could brush his fingers along Yoongi's spine. He savored the way Yoongi was breathing so heavy and was obviously so ready.

They both were.

Jimin was deep, deep, deep into the feeling he'd been associating with the whole alpha sex wolf thing: he felt so good in his skin, he felt so good in the weight of himself, and he felt so good and so himself. Like light was filling him to all his edges, no empty spaces left untouched.

He kissed Yoongi softly, Yoongi turning back immediately to meet his lips. "And I want to knot you," Jimin said. "Let's do that."

Jimin helped him strip out of his clothes and pulled off the rest of his own. He nudged Yoongi to roll over. He kept stroking Yoongi's back, concentrating as he eased out the plug—mostly because he didn't want to accidentally activate the knotting part, but also because he was trying very hard not to get too distracted by the amount of slick Yoongi producing.

True, he didn't have much personal experience to compare it to, and honestly, he hadn't thought slick was going to be something he was that interested by. Natural lube was convenient, sure, but he happened to like the usual process of using lube and found it plenty sexy enough.

But now, pulling the butt plug out of Yoongi, hearing him whimper when more slick spilled out as Jimin gently shifted the plug, shifted the pressure…Jimin was coming around to the policy position of "slick is very sexy, actually."

Yoongi's entire scent was humming. Singing. "You did such a good job getting yourself ready for me," Jimin said, pulling the plug free. "I know that wasn't your intention when you put it in, but you were so smart, so good at this."

"I don't want compliments," Yoongi whined. He pressed his face against the bed. "I want you inside me now."

Jimin laughed and nuzzled his neck, adjusting him into a position that they usually used, that'd be gentle on Yoongi's shoulder, and dutifully got to work fulfilling his request.

They were remarkably quiet now. They'd already had an emotional crescendo—more than one, actually—over the course of the night, so it felt right to Jimin that this act was very much a necessary physical release. They dropped their verbal teasing, and Jimin focused on reading Yoongi's body, reading his physical reactions, as he stroked Yoongi's dick, as he thrust inside him, as Yoongi thrust back against him, as they both caught themselves, found themselves, in the shared, easy rhythm. He could hear when Namjoon entered the room, but he stayed focused on Yoongi, gasping and grunting, and Jimin could feel his entire body, his entire being, barreling toward knotting, and—

"Oh, hey, new butt plug," said Namjoon cheerfully. "Is that one of the ones with the self-inflating knot? I was looking at those the other day… oh—sorry, I see you're busy. Keep going, hyung."

Yoongi made a sound that was half whine and half laugh. Jimin laughed, too, keeping his pace but raising his head to find a freshly showered, still dripping, low-slung-towel-wearing Namjoon, curiously examining Yoongi's abandoned plug. Despite having said sorry, the look on his face was entirely unrepentant. Yoongi and Namjoon taunting each other during sex, sweetly and pettily, was an absolute staple in their relationship.

Jimin could feel Yoongi struggling to get himself under enough control to taunt back. Jimin held on to him still, though, and didn't ease up on him too much. "You can—you can use that—while I have Jiminie," Yoongi huffed out.

That barb was impressive, especially considering the circumstances, but Jimin decided to throw down, too. "And if you need more slick," he said in between pants, "Yoongi has more than enough to share."

Yoongi lowered his head again and moaned.

Namjoon left the plug and stood near the bed, where they both could see him. He dropped his towel—fumbling with it only a minimal amount, Jimin was very proud of him—and knelt very softly on the mattress. Jimin couldn't keep track of what he was doing, but he saw when Namjoon, in that gentle-forceful-deranged way of his, lifted Yoongi's chin and very deliberately swiped his own slick-shiny fingers on his face, ending with brushing his thumb across Yoongi's lips. Yoongi groaned and made an ineffectual attempt at nipping, and then Namjoon said, "No, thank you. He can have some of mine." He pressed his slick-covered thumb inside Yoongi's mouth.

God bless Kim Namjoon: never one to not rise to the occasion of being a freak, and usually he managed to overshoot the mark, too. God fucking bless him.

Yoongi came. Yoongi came, the sound and feel and scent creating an instant cascade of sensation that had Jimin knotting him immediately. They both cried out, Jimin came too, and then Jimin lost track of his hands, tried to make sure he didn't lose hold of Yoongi, didn't let Yoongi slip and get hurt, and he felt Namjoon's hands moving across both of them, presumably trying to help but possibly making things worse, Jimin didn't know, all he could really know in the moment was Yoongi against him, closer than they'd ever been, because Jimin's knot had locked him to him, their bodies practically each other's body, and Yoongi's and Namjoon's scents had both rose and mixed so that all Jimin could feel was the sense of their combined happiness, theirs and his own.

For all he complained about this stupid sex wolf apocalypse, he had to tip his hat to the cosmic architects of this insanity, because the sex was amazing.

Yoongi rubbed Jimin's thigh, the one that he now had clasped over Yoongi's, and he said his name so throatily and sleepily and happily.

Jimin closed his eyes and just floated on this feeling.

~

Namjoon was quiet afterward. He'd been a huge help, not just with the whole feeding-his-slick-drenched-thumb-to-Yoongi thing, but also with keeping both Jimin and Yoongi steady, and getting them water and going back to the bathroom for the towels he'd forgotten he'd promised to bring back and helping them clean up.

But now, with Jimin and Yoongi having separated, and Yoongi falling in and out of sleep on the bed, Jimin moved down to the mattress where Namjoon was laying sprawled under a blanket and looking very meditative. His scent was a little prickly, a little nervous, but mostly excited, its textures deepened even further with that whole omega-in-heat element.

Jimin lay down, making sure Namjoon had enough space, and asked, "Are you feeling your heat yet?"

Namjoon nodded. "Slick's been slicking, as you know. And I'm feeling buzzy. But not ready-ready. Not yet."

"Do you need anything for your nest?"

"No. I like this mattress and not having to share it with Yoongi. That already feels very satisfying."

Jimin smiled. "Nervous?"

"A little. And I'm not sure, but I'm not really feeling my sex wolf right now. They might have left."

"Really?" Jimin tried not to frown, tried not to betray any sign of wtf-ness. "Is that—are you okay with that?"

"I think so. I think what's happening, now that I'm in the thick of this, is that my sex wolf and I are starting to actually integrate, maybe. Like how you and yours, and Yoongi and his, always were." Namjoon glanced up to the bed. Yoongi was either asleep or doing a very good job of pretending. "I think it stayed a conscious thing up until I got to witness someone else going through it, and once I got that guidance and it was reassured I know what's going on, it returned to being subconscious. Maybe."

"That makes sense," Jimin said. Well, technically, it made as much sense as anything made sense in this situation. Which was good enough.

But Namjoon's scent dipped a bit, tight flutters of anxiety rippling it.

Jimin looked at Namjoon and waited for him to speak.

"Why can't I can't smell you?" Namjoon asked. "Yoongi-hyung's scent is strong, but yours is just kind of absent. There's this feeling of emptiness instead of a scent."

"It's my scent blocker." He shrugged. "I've used it ever since I presented, so it's basically at one hundred percent efficiency by now."

"Do you not want us to be able to read your scent?"

Jimin didn't have a good answer to that—or at least one that wasn't hypocritical. He didn't want to inflict his scent on other people. He didn't want to impose on other people. And, yeah, maybe it would be nice to salvage any sliver of privacy he could in this world.

But he did like being able to read the scents of his people. It helped him, especially as an alpha. And he kind of felt, as an alpha, he wanted to be extra careful not to impose his scent on others. He didn't want to have more force, more power, more dominion over anything or anyone, than he already had to have, biologically speaking.

So he told Namjoon, "I'm not sure. I'm still thinking about it."

"I get that," Namjoon said.

"Do you want to know what you smell like to me?" Jimin asked.

Namjoon's eyes widened, a little nervous in a new way. "Tell me."

"Cherries," Jimin said. "Not that fake cherry scent, not like candy cherry scent, but, like, freshly picked cherries. Bright and dark at the same time. Dark trees and clean blue sky." Namjoon looked thoughtful, so Jimin smiled and kept going. "Sweet and tart. Juicy. Extremely bite-able."

Namjoon smiled a little crookedly, so Jimin knew the description hit just right. "Does Yoongi-hyung smell like the ocean to you too?"

"Yep," Jimin said.

"You know why the ocean smells the way it does, right?" Namjoon asked. "It's because of the algae and the digestive bacteria of the—"

"Yes, I know," Yoongi grumbled from the bed, clearly not asleep after all.

"You smell good," Namjoon quickly said. "Very in-motion. Very vast. I like it."

Yoongi mumbled something incomprehensible and rolled over. His scent, though, was mellow and pleased, and Jimin exchanged a smile with Namjoon.

~

Namjoon's heat took him over a little while later. "Wow," he said. "I understand why people talk about heats 'hitting.' I…" He was sitting on the mattress, still wrapped up chastely in a blanket, and he looked up at Yoongi on the bed. "How did you come all the way over to Jimin's alone, feeling like this?"

"I had a really good plug up my ass," Yoongi said. "It took away the urgency."

"What do you mean, 'feeling like this'?" Jimin asked. He was curious, because Yoongi had been so complicated to read. He'd been obviously concentrating very hard to hold himself together, lying through his teeth about not already being deep in his heat, but he'd been clearly on the dazed and drifty side.

"Horny, obviously, but also…high?" Namjoon waved a hand in a vague gesture. "Like it's a preview of a post-orgasm bliss, maybe."

"It's not quite subspace, but it's a relative of it," Yoongi said.

"Yeah, kind of," Namjoon said. "And there's definitely a magnetic pull between me and you, Jimin-ah."

"Really?" That made Jimin feel better for multiple reasons. "I've been feeling something similar, between me and Yoongi, and between me and you, and I was worried I was assuming some biological nonsense between alphas and omegas that doesn't actually exist."

"There's something there, but it's not like it takes the place of the things we're naturally and normally feeling," Yoongi said. "When I really, really needed Jimin inside me and knotting me, I didn't find Joon any less sexy than usual. I wanted him to be involved just as much as usual."

"Yeah, you're your normal, disturbing level of sexy to me, too, hyung," Namjoon said. "I don't think the omegaverse stuff changes that, even if our subgenders aren't biologically compatible or whatever. And you and Taehyung had a good rut together, right?"

"Yeah," Jimin said. "Being knotted by him was great. It didn't make me feel any less alpha. And it didn't make me feel like a bad alpha. It was just him and me, giving him what he needed and what we both wanted."

Yoongi leaned over the bed to stare down at Namjoon. "What do you mean, my normal level of sexy is disturbing?"

"Anyway," Namjoon said. "I'd really like to continue philosophizing on this, and maybe we will later, but right now, I'd rather one of you be kissing me. Or both of you. I'm ready."

Jimin laughed. "I'll start," he said. He pulled the blanket away from Namjoon and moved to straddle him. Namjoon's mouth found his before he even managed to toss the blanket aside.

Jimin wouldn't have thought he himself could be ready again so soon, but it only took minutes of making out and grinding with Namjoon before he was feeling it all again, feeling like he could go again. Yoongi watched them from the bed, possibly plotting revenge or possibly just recovering, but his scent remained happy.

It was funny, Jimin thought. He and Namjoon were finally doing what they'd planned to be doing earlier this evening. But as good as he thought it'd been earlier, when it was just the two of them making out, running their exploratory and possessive hands all over each other, this was even better: Namjoon's scent was so heady, and somehow it made his happiness permeate everything, and Jimin felt so good, knowing what he was going to do to Namjoon and knowing just how much Namjoon needed it and just how good and right Namjoon was going to feel when it happened. It felt like the best combination of the comfort of normal and the excitement of a new omegaverse adventure.

Also making things even better was that Yoongi had now slipped off the bed and was kneeling in front of the mattress. "Can I help?"

Jimin lifted his head from where he'd been sucking at Namjoon's neck, and he made eye contact with Namjoon. "Can you tell me if he has enough slick yet?" Namjoon shuddered, and Jimin smirked.

Yoongi, now behind Namjoon, spread his hands over his shoulders, down his back, and lower, where Jimin couldn't see. Namjoon was trembling, but Jimin could see that he was trying not to react—probably a not-giving-Yoongi-the-satisfaction thing. Which was hot. "He's wet as fuck," Yoongi said. "But he could probably make more for you."

Gold stars. Both of them deserved gold stars for being completely, insanely themselves right now.

Namjoon made a growling sound. Jimin liked that. He reached down to touch Namjoon's dick. It'd been hard and heavy between them for a while, but he let his hand explore and examine now, and he took his time. Namjoon said his name sweetly and breathlessly, until he suddenly jerked, moaned, and cursed Yoongi; apparently, Yoongi had finished checking the slick situation and was now ensuring Namjoon was ready for Jimin's dick—and for his knot. Not everyone had spent the last couple hours with a preparatory butt plug, after all.

"What do you say, baby?" Jimin asked, and he returned to kissing Namjoon's face, nipping a tiny bit as his ear. "Are you ready? Because I'm ready to knot you, but only if you're ready."

"Knot me," Namjoon said.

His voice was huskier than Jimin had ever heard it. That deep roughness rasped its way over Jimin's skin, made his blood fizzle and buzz, and he took a moment to kiss Namjoon deeply, thoroughly, one more time.

With some help, Namjoon repositioned himself. Jimin's name spilled from his lips, over and over. Yoongi was quiet and calm now, his eyes concentrated on Namjoon, his hands stroking him softly. Jimin, too, kept himself gentle as he entered Namjoon. He plied kisses along Namjoon's back, on his shoulder blades.

They didn't always fuck as sweetly as this. Some of the best times between Namjoon and him, they involved letting themselves get a little rough. Letting themselves take. They had that kind of confidence and faith between them, and going from zero to insane about any little thing the other one did was something the two of them had in common from the very beginning.

This, though, felt right tonight. Namjoon, like Yoongi, had brought himself, his whole self, to him, and Jimin was going to use his whole self to love him right back, to catch him in that trust fall.

Namjoon made sounds desperate and disorderly and obscene, inventing all sorts of ragged new syllables every time Jimin thrust inside him, gripped him tighter, stroked him slower. Even before the sex wolf stuff, there was nothing quite like making Namjoon so verbally incoherent you were pretty sure you were emptying his brain.

Jimin thought there was a possibility that he could make him howl, and he felt maybe, they were right there—

Namjoon cried out in a groan that wasn't a howl but wasn't not a howl, and—

Jimin knotted. His brain blipped, because he hadn't known he was at the precipice, but Namjoon's scent went white hot blinding sweet, and then Namjoon came, and Jimin came, and both of them were babbling curses in between each other's names, and then it hit Jimin, that he'd just knotted Namjoon, that he was holding on to Namjoon like no one had ever held on to him before, and God, didn't Namjoon deserve that? If he could have come again, he would have, just at that thought.

~

The rest of their combined heat passed just fine. Jimin had enough time between Yoongi's and Namjoon's arousal cycles to recover and even nap a little, but he was exhausted. By the time Taehyung arrived, Jimin was ready to disavow his own dick and never use it anymore.

As soon as Taehyung entered the room, his scent shot through the room like a cool breeze—as if his forest had created shade, was letting in strategic spots of sunshine, allowing them to grow and rest underneath his canopic protection. There was sweetness and oxygen and a whole ecosystem of interconnected happiness. Jimin's breathing became even easier.

It felt like Taehyung. It was so good. It was so good to have him here in the mix.

"You smell so good," Namjoon said, muffled from behind his arm. He'd been resting on the mattress—he said after his last cycle that he was pretty sure his heat was wearing off—and he gestured Taehyung to join him.

"You can smell me!" Taehyung said, delighted. He sat down on the mattress and leaned down, sniffing him in a way that would've seemed obscene at any other time. "You smell like summer, hyung. It's sweet and it feels like it's going to burst, it's not flowers but it's a little floral, a little woody, a little fruity…it's cherries. Cherries! That's what it is." He laughed, kissing Namjoon. "That's perfect. You smell like you."

Jimin lay on the bed with Yoongi in his arms. A little while earlier, Yoongi said he'd probably need to go one more round, that his heat wasn't yet fading, but that if Namjoon and Jimin were too tired, they didn't have to help him, he could do it alone. Jimin and Namjoon had exchanged an exasperated look, and Jimin declared he was going to hold Yoongi until he was ready, just to make sure he didn't escape.

And now, because Taehyung was here, Jimin thought he could probably finally let Yoongi go. "When you're ready to go again, do you want Taehyungie to knot you this time?" he whispered into Yoongi's neck.

Yoongi nodded against him.

"I promise, his knot feels so good. He'll take such good care of you."

Taehyung left Namjoon and knelt beside the bed. He met Jimin's eyes briefly—and that, even more than his scent, let Jimin know that Taehyung had understood they'd must have had a roller-coaster of a night, but everyone was okay now—and then he studied Yoongi. He reached out and caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted, hyung."

Yoongi shook his head. "I got something better."

Taehyung climbed on to the bed, and Jimin moved off. He could hear Taehyung asking Yoongi questions in a low voice and Yoongi answering, soft and grumbly.

Jimin joined Namjoon on the mattress. "Is this okay?" he asked, not touching Namjoon but also wanting to be with him still.

"Yeah." Namjoon moved so that they were facing each other. His expression was contemplative.

"Are you okay?" Jimin reached out to stroke Namjoon's arm.

"Yeah," Namjoon said again, but then his scent did the equivalent of a flinch, a tiny unhappy jump.

"What do you need?" Jimin asked.

Namjoon studied Jimin's face more, and Jimin tried not to let his own confusion show through. "I wish I could smell you, Jimin-ah. It feels weird not to."

Jimin went still. Taehyung and Yoongi were still talking together quietly, but from the corner of Jimin's eye, he could see movement, could see them touching. They were focused on each other. So this was a conversation between just him and Namjoon.

"I read up on that scent blocker Taehyung and Yoongi are using, the one that lets your bonded mates still smell you but not anyone else," Namjoon continued. "It sounds pretty safe. I'm going to use that one myself, now that I actually have a scent."

For the record, Jimin still believed it was insane that the universe considered them all bonded, even though none of them had done the whole mating bond biting thing other people in packs did. But that was just another piece of insanity to add to their current collection. "I don't know if I want to switch," Jimin said honestly. "I've gotten used to not having a scent."

"Do you not want us to be able to tell what you're feeling? Because if that's what's keeping you on that strong scent blocker, I have to tell you, you've never been completely inscrutable to begin with."

Jimin managed a smile. "Kind of. I hate the idea of imposing my scent on other people."

"Is my scent imposing on you?"

"No!" Jimin said. "Not at all."

"Then why would yours impose on me, or any of the rest of us?"

Jimin inhaled. Held his breath. Exhaled. He hadn't wanted to admit this to anyone, but Namjoon sounded curious about the answer and not ready to argue Jimin away from what he felt. "I guess," Jimin said slowly, "I want to be extra careful, as an alpha, that I'm not imposing on anyone more than I have to. I want to share my feelings with all of you, whatever those feelings are, but I don't want to do that before I've had a chance to control those feelings. Because I'm an alpha, I already have power over you guys for stupid biological reasons, and I don't want my feelings to have more weight than they should."

Namjoon nodded, his eyes soft. "They should have equal weight," he said seriously.

Jimin nodded. His shoulders eased—he hadn't realized he'd tensed up so much.

Namjoon was quiet for a few moments, then he said, "If that's the case, you might think about going on the less strong scent-blocker. Because it was weird, not being able to smell you. When I could tell from Yoongi's scent he was happy, I felt it—I didn't just know he was happy, but I actually felt it and share it. Then I would then look at you and see that you were happy, but I couldn't feel your happiness like I could feel Yoongi's. And right now, when Taehyung walked in and added his scent, and he was so relieved and happy, I could feel how much your happiness was missing from the mix. Even though I know in my brain that you're happy, I can see with my eyes that you're happy, I felt an empty space where your happiness would be." Namjoon slid a hand across Jimin's chest, let his palm rest over Jimin's heart. "I want your happiness to have an equal weight, too, you know?"

Jimin swallowed hard.

"Not trying to guilt you or anything. I'm just saying." Namjoon smiled a little sadly. "And happiness is a fuckload lot easier to share than other feelings, so maybe I should just shut up now. I'm sorry if—"

"No, I'm glad you said this," Jimin said. He put his own hand over Namjoon's, and he held it there over his heart. "I…you're right. It's not fair to you guys."

"And I don't think it's fair to you, either. Your feelings should be equal to ours. Not something to be managed alone."

"I'll think about it. Truly. I wish I could have added my happiness to all your happiness, too, because I've been so happy today." He managed a smile. "But you might regret it, once you find out what my scent is."

"What is it?"

"Taehyung's the only one of us who's smelled me, and he says I smell like the first day of school."

Namjoon gave him a pointed look. "You think that would be a turn-off for me? Seriously? Do you even know me?"

Jimin laughed. "Okay, okay."

"I bet you smell like a brand new notebook." Namjoon enveloped Jimin in a hug. "I am going to write all over you."

Coming from Namjoon, that was both the best compliment and the most wonderful prospect. Jimin felt so grateful to him, for asking for what he wanted, and also for not shaming or even questioning Jimin for thinking it might be an alpha thing. Namjoon could've given him a lecture about subgender double standards, but he didn't.

Jimin was going to keep his promise. He was already thinking about it, about what it might mean if he switched. Things might've gone differently during these heats had Yoongi and Namjoon been able to smell him. All that panic and fear he'd felt when Yoongi arrived would've been felt right back by the other two. It would've mixed with theirs. He wasn't sure if that wouldn't have just made things worse.

On the bed, Taehyung and Yoongi were still murmuring things to each other, but Taehyung's shirt was suddenly flung down onto the mattress, narrowly missing Jimin and Namjoon.

"Excuse me!" Jimin said.

Laughter—and the scent of happiness, and of ratcheting lust—came from the bed. Namjoon cuddled himself against Jimin, and Jimin leaned back into him. Namjoon's scent was easy and unselfconscious and radiated the feeling of safe safe safe.

And Jimin knew it would be even better if Namjoon could feel that Jimin was feeling that exact same thing, that he was making Jimin feel the exact same thing.

Jimin knew the decision he needed to make, even if it was kind of scary, and even if there'd be other consequences.

He would switch his scent blocker.

~