Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Taehyung-ah? Yah, where are your shoes? Why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here, you’re going to catch a chill.”

Taehyung makes no sign that he’s heard a word, just keeps taking looming steps until he’s barging into Jin’s personal space. His gaze sweeps Jin’s face, his nostrils flare.

Then he’s circling Jin, arm brushing his waist and lower back, nose following the curve of Jin’s jaw to behind his ear and across his nape. Jin suppresses a shiver and stands stone still.

Taehyung’s scent is lightning striking alpha pheromones. It’s bursting out of him messy and loud, like he’s a recently presented pup too hormonal and too inexperienced to control himself. Even with the wind Taehyung’s scent and pheromones swallow Jin, muddling his instincts with the pull to… to coo? To smack the back of Taehyung’s head? To roll over?

What is going through his head? Is anything? Is he running on pure instinct?

“Tae-yah?” Jin whispers. He cups Taehyung’s face with one hand and brushes his thumb across Taehyung’s iced cheek. “Aish, you’re freezing. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Jin tugs on his t-shirt but Taehyung catches his arm. “No,” he says firm, then his voice softens when he adds, “not yet.”

“It’s too cold to say out here.”

“Just, a minute. Stay with me for one minute before the pack get to you.”

“Get to me? Is something happening?” Jin’s stomach sinks. “Are they holding another pack meeting?”

Taehyung shakes his head and shuffles forward while pulling Jin towards him. “Hug me.”

Jin blinks but does as asked, enclosing Taehyung in his arms and running his hands up and down Taehyung’s back to warm him. Taehyung noses around Jin’s scent gland but doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t.

Jin gives him the minute and maybe a little more before he pulls back. “Alright, let’s go in.”

Taehyung whines and clings closer. “One more minute.”

“Absolutely not. Do you know how much trouble I’ll be in if you get sick? Sejin hyung will have my head.”

An unpleasant odour streaks through Taehyung’s scent but the wind carries it off before Jin can make it out.

With a push Jin gets Taehyung walking even if he’s dragging his feet and hanging off Jin, slowing them both down and putting pressure on Jin’s spine.

Jin propels them both through the front door, kicking his shoes off and finding each of their house slippers. He’s pleasantly surprised when Taehyung helps Jin out of his jacket and courteously hangs it up in the cupboard instead of tossing it onto an overloaded hook like he usually does.

Then he stands in front of Jin to fuss over his hoodie, tugging out the wrinkles, bringing the strings forwards and flattening the hood down his back. It’s only when his fingertips skim purposely over Jin’s shaved hair that he reaches his limit. He’s not subtle about it either, not with the way he ducks out of Taehyung’s hold and takes off down the hall. But Taehyung isn’t so easily escaped, already behind him with his hand on Jin’s back again.

The lure of Jin’s bedroom calls to him - his personal haven of comfort and quiet, the promise of his sleep and the end to this horrific day - but he heads to the living room instead.

The overhead lights are on, bright and harsh and Jin ducks his head and raises his shoulders to his chin, as if he can hide himself like that.

Taehyung seeps closer, his breath hitting the back of Jin’s neck.

“Hyung!” Jungkook gallops across the living room and for a wincing second Jin fears the weight of a barrelling hug but Jungkook slows to a stop before they crash. He still hugs Jin, but it’s with gentle arms and a nuzzle to his cheek.

Does Jungkook feel the scratch of Jin’s sloughing skin?

Jin tilts his head away. He doesn’t mean it as a rejection but when he catches the furrow between Jungkook’s brows and the part of his lips he realises it’s been taken that way. But the expression flicks to a smile, and Jin almost believes he never hurt Jungkook.

Jungkook’s greeting must have been heard through the dorms because the pack swarms into the living room with a chorus of ‘Jin hyung!’ ringing off the walls. Hoseok glomps onto him first and a whip ricochets up Jin’s back that has him hissing through his teeth, masked underneath Hoseok’s trill.

Underneath Hoseok’s beta trill which is augmented by calming beta pheromones.

What is he trying to deescalate?

Jimin lingers behind Hoseok, his gaze flickering between Jin’s face, his hair, and over his shoulder to Taehyung. But when he catches Jin’s eyes his face lights up and he gathers the three of them into his arms. His scent is uncomfortably dense under Jin’s nose, too forceful but he endures.

When they break Namjoon shuffles in for a side hug and presses their foreheads together for a few seconds. He doesn’t trill but his pacifying pheromones sing for him.

Yoongi stands off to the side. His scent deadened.

Jimin runs his fingers across Jin’s scalp. “You look good,” he says. “This cut suits you.”

A joke is on the tip of Jin’s tongue - of course it suits him, all haircuts suit him, he could pull off an actual mop on his head, he’s Worldwide Handsome - but he’s still wrapped in humiliation with his self-confidence in the gutter and instead he mumbles a thank you.

Obviously his disbelief must come through because all six attack with compliments at the same time, speaking louder to be heard over each other. And it does work. The earnest compliments mix with exaggerated exaltation, the sweet with the soppy, and it leaves Jin blushing, warmed through and through with love.

“Aish,” Jin says, flapping his hands to quiet them, which they do in an instant. “Who put you up to this? Is someone paying you?”

It’s like they all release a breath at once, the scents and the atmosphere refreshing from artificial to natural. The difference draws Jin’s attention. How had he not picked up on the careful collective mood the moment he walked in?

“Our only payment is seeing your face,” Jungkook says, to groans and Jimin’s giggle.

Yoongi shakes his head. “You spend too much time around hyung.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, like it’s an insult. The kind of insult were Jin takes fake offence and Jungkook provokes and-

“Again? Really?” Hoseok asks with a shake of his head.

Jin glances towards Hoseok then follows his line of sight over his shoulder to Taehyung. This time Jin doesn’t have to drag the back of his hoodie up to his nose to sniff, not when he catches Taehyung swiping his wrist over Jin’s clothing.

“Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon says, his soft tone nearly hiding the note of admonishment. But not quite.

Taehyung puffs up. “What? Why shouldn’t I mark Jin hyung? He ours. He belongs to us.” The soaring alpha in his statement might have been akin to a challenge if not for the clashing warble. Instead of rising tempers it dampens, expressions turning to pity.

Namjoon gently squeezes Taehyung’s shoulder. “Of course Jin hyung is ours but that doesn’t mean you should be… laying such strong claims on him. Hyung is still his own person.”

“And you have to share him with us,” Hoseok jokes, skipping over and pulling Jin into his arms. Jin yelps but it comes out more surprised than pained. Hoseok nuzzles at his cheek in apology.

Taehyung stares at the both of them. His face is almost too blank while his scent fluctuates too much for Jin to get a read on him. When he doesn’t say anything the tension ratchets up again.

“Tae-yah.” Jimin cuts in front of Jin and Hoseok and takes Taehyung’s hands. “Let’s go to your room and watch a film, yeah? I want lots of cuddles tonight.”

“But, Jin hyung…”

“Hyung isn’t going anywhere, are you?”

Jimin’s asking to prove a point for Taehyung’s sake, Jin know that, knows it’s not a malicious dig at Jin running off but that’s where his mind goes.

“My only plans for this evening are a long soak in the tub and an early night,” Jin says. He indicates his face. “I obviously need my beauty sleep.”

No one plays off his joke, worse they look at him with the same worried pity they extended to Taehyung earlier. Hoseok hugs him tighter.

“Why don’t we watch a film now and then we can say goodnight to Jin hyung later,” Jimin suggests.

Taehyung’s gaze flicks between the two of them. His eyes are watery and he’s blinking too much as if trying to hold back tears.

But why? Why would he cry?

Is it Jin’s doing? Has he hurt Taehyung in some way? He rakes through his memories but nothing strikes him, nothing more than the hurt he’s already caused the pack, nothing specific to Taehyung.

Then, maybe it’s nothing to do with Jin?

The thought is a relief, though fleeting. Taehyung has been acting oddly since Jin returned from the hotel. It can’t be a coincidence.

At Taehyung’s hesitation Jimin pulls him close. Omega explodes around them in a purposeful blast, overinflated with the far too messy textures of his scent. Or so it seems to Jin. But Hoseok inhales loud next to Jin’s ear and Jungkook leans so far forward he stumbles. Namjoon would probably like to think he’s less obvious but his gaze trawls up and down Jimin while his face turns red. Yoongi stutters out a cough and spins on his heels, his back to them.

What is it that they can smell? Is his scent truly so appealing?

Taehyung certainly thinks so. He melts into Jimin and doesn’t spare Jin or anyone else a second glance when he leaves.

Once they’re gone Yoongi silently opens the windows.

Hoseok releases Jin and shakes himself out. He laughs lightly as Jungkook totters towards where Jimin stood, sniffing the air where the omega scent is thickest. “Jiminie smells too charming, doesn’t he?” Hoseok says.

Jin breathes through his mouth as he wafts the odour away.

Jungkook doesn’t reply. He’s too busy standing on his tiptoes, nose twitching.

Hoseok laughs again and guides Jungkook away and towards the open window. “I think our baby alpha is a little too taken.”

“’m not,” Jungkook mumbles, swaying towards Namjoon who tilts him upright with quick reflexes.

With the pack dispersed and distracted, Jin retreats. “I’m going in the bath,” he announces as he’s out the door, not leaving a chance for one of them to call him back. He heads straight to the bathroom and showers the day off him before drawing up a bath bursting with muscle relaxing bubbles. He drapes a hydrating sheet mask over his face and sinks inch by inch into the scalding water until his whole body is lobster red.

That’s where he stays for the next two hours. He replaces the sheets masks, refills the tub, drains his phone battery to a single digit. He’s disturbed three times by the pack; once to see if wants some dinner saved, twice under thinly veiled checkups.

Before someone knocks on the door a fourth time Jin gets out the bath, and instantly his boneless body turns rigid when pain shoots up through the soles of his feet. He scrabbles for the sink to redistribute his weight.

Jin sucks in a breath. It’s not like he expected a hot bath to cure him but he did think it would help. But nothing feels better; he’s as roughed up as he was during the photoshoot, only now he’s exhausted too.

It’s not fucking fair.

Why can’t his body adjust? Why can’t he go back to the way he was just two weeks ago? Why does he have to be this way? Why-

Jin cuts his spiralling thoughts and takes a minutes to breathe. Then he slowly unfolds until he’s standing again. The mirror is fogged and Jin is grateful to be spared his reflection.

He ties a towel round his waist and drapes one on his shoulders. He picks his dirty clothes up and is at the door before he pauses, shifts the clothes over his left arm, and continues.

No one’s skulking in the hall but Jin keeps his pace up until he’s safely tucked inside his bedroom. Upon finding no surprise visitors he locks the door.

It’s not even eight but Jin dries himself and slides on his softest pyjamas. He turns on his PC but once he’s logged in and sat with one hand on the mouse and the other resting on the keyboard he realises he lacks any desire to load up a game.

He turns it back off and starfishes on his bed, staring at the ceiling for he doesn’t know how long before his phone vibrates with a notification. He doesn’t pick it up straightaway, dreading who might be on the other end, what they might demand of him. The phone vibrates again, and again. Jin reaches to the beside table, grunting at the stretch.

It’s memes in the group chat. Jin exhales and drops the phone to his chest. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad-

There’s quiet knocking at the door and, “Hyung, can I come in?”

Jin tenses, automatically scanning the room, searching for evidence of… he doesn’t know what. “Sure,” he calls to Yoongi.

The handle twists. “The door’s locked.”

“Right. Hold on.” Everything protests as he pushes himself up and walks five steps. He flicks the lock and opens the door. Yoongi lifts two beers, condensation beading down the glass and dripping onto the hall carpet.

Yoongi’s prepared for a talk.

“I’m tired,” Jin says.

“Too tired for one beer?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Yoongi opens his mouth but seems to rethink his words. After a beat he follows up with, “You’re getting old.”

“We’re getting older,” Jin counters.

“Then we should embrace our youth while we still can.” Yoongi pushes one of the beers into Jin’s fumbling hands and slides through the gap into his bedroom. He glances around but Jin can’t tell if he’s absently looking or searching with purpose. Either way it makes his heart pick up the pace, panicked that Yoongi will pull something incriminating out of thin air.

“Can I sit?” Yoongi asks nodding towards the bed.

The question has Jin reeling. When have they started asking permission to merely sit on each other’s furniture? Have they stretched so far apart?

Jin nods and Yoongi sits with one knee tucked underneath him and the other leg hanging off the bed, like he’s being polite, not wanting to take up too much space.

It rankles, hurts almost, that a packmate is uncertain of himself in Jin’s bedroom. It’s wrong. No packmate should ever feel like that.

With no regards to the pain spiking up through his heels Jin hurries to his bed, plumps up the pillows on the free side and urges Yoongi to lounge and make himself comfortable. He does the same to his pillows, sitting against the headboard too so they’re side by side. He’s pleased with himself when Yoongi lifts up the duvet to stick his toes underneath without asking.

They each take a sip of the beer in silence. The satisfaction of witnessing Yoongi integrate himself into Jin’s bed slips away.

“What’s this for?” Jin asks when he can’t take the quiet any longer.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Yoongi asks. “Haven’t we shared beers in your room before?”

Of course there doesn’t have to be a reason. Of course there is one today.

Jin scratches at the corner of the damp label giving Yoongi his chance to speak. He doesn’t though, preferring to let the soundless vacuum eat the atmosphere. It’s one of Yoongi’s tactics to encourage a packmate to open up about their troubles but Jin doubts it’s the reason today. His method is always done in love, always in support and not as a manipulative trick.

Yoongi not speaking suggests he doesn’t know what to say.

How’s Taehyung? Jin thinks about asking. He doesn’t though; Taehyung is too complicated a topic to address tonight.

“Did you eat?” he asks instead. Because he doesn’t know what to say either.

“Yeah. We saved you some in the fridge in case you get hungry later.” Seconds tick by. Then, “You’re skipping meals again.” He says it with the casualness of a belated afterthought but it’s not. There’s nothing casual about any of this.

“I already ate with Sejin hyung.”

“Did you? Or are you getting ill again?”

“I’m not, I’d tell you if I was.”

“Would you?” Yoongi immediately sighs. “Sorry. I’m not here to pick a fight.”

Jin has the urge to clasp Yoongi’s knee or tap their elbows together, something to signal his gratitude for Yoongi’s concession. He settles for softening his tone. “What are you here for?”

“I wanted to- I’m here if you want to talk.”

Disappoint fills Jin’s chest.

Yoongi must catch on because he quickly continues. “This isn’t a ploy to make you talk but an offer. I know, or I think you’re opening up to Sejin hyung but it’s not the same is it? He’s not us, he’s not pack, and if he’s not enough then I’m here for you. I’ll keep whatever you say between us.” He turns to Jin. “My offer still stands. You know I can keep a secret.”

Jin continues to peel the beer label with his nail. Yoongi can keep secrets. How many have they swapped in the dark of their shared bedroom over the years? Embarrassing secrets they laugh about now, secrets that were all encompassing at the time but which no longer hold any significance in their lives, the enduring secrets they sometimes rekindle on nights like this when they’re alone with a drink in their hands. The secrets they pretend were never disclosed.

But nothing’s changed since the last time Yoongi was here in his bedroom making the same promises.

Jin softens his tone to placate. “Sejin hyung does know but it’s easier because he’s not pack. And he’s taking care of me- we’re both taking care of me so you should try to worry less.”

“How is Sejin hyung easier? We’re pack.” His scent twitches like one match being lit after another. “We’re a pack. What’s easier than that?”

“Sometimes it’s scarier to open up to the people you’re closest to. With other people it can be less…” Jin searches for the right work. It’s not less judgemental but it can be that too. And it’s not less weighty but it can be that too. “Less emotional,” he what he settles on. Less repercussions, he thinks too but doesn’t say because that might be too damning. “If one of us is upset the rest of us goes off the rails. We’re too invested in each other.”

“You make our bond sound like a hassle,” Yoongi says with a crack in his voice.

Jin did. He didn’t realise but it’s exactly what it sounded like. “I didn’t mean it like that, I really didn’t.” He taps his knuckles against the back of Yoongi’s hand because even though it’s them and their personal bond doesn’t demand physical touch, it’s doesn’t mean it’s not appreciated. He’s still surprised when Yoongi moves his beer bottle to his other hand so he can slide his knuckles between Jin’s and curl the tips of their fingers together.

Jin smiles at their backwards hand holding. “Yoongichi,” he teases, “aren’t you romantic.”

“Romantic?” Yoongi scoffs. “You need to start dating again if you think this is romance.” As much as he’s trying to be blasé Jin hears the blustering.

“Are you offering, Yoongi-yah? Will you teach me romance?”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “What drama is that line from?”

“None. It’s an original Kim Seokjin all for you, my dear, romantic Yoongichi.” On a whim he lays his head on Yoongi’s shoulder and snuffles into the alpha’s neck. His smokey scent escapes in bursting puffs then trickling wisps, the way it always does when he’s embarrassed.

It had taken weeks for Jin to learn what this particular twist to his scent meant. In their early trainee days Yoongi had exuded a cool, aloof, professional persona, and the idea that someone like him could be embarrassed never occurred to Jin. Even when he misspoke or tripped or became the butt of a joke Yoongi laughed or shrugged and moved on. Nothing ever phased him while Jin would lay awake at nights replaying his daily mistakes and failures.

How different they were, Jin had thought at the time. How incompatible.

While he and Yoongi maintained the polite but distant relationship of two work colleagues forced onto a department project, Namjoon and Hoseok were simpler to befriend. Namjoon because - while he shared Yoongi’s talent and hunger - he was not an untouchable, self-sufficient alpha burgeoning into his prime; he was very much human, very much a dongsaeng that needed a guiding hand to survive. Catching him flexing noodle arms in front of the mirror, watching him use a potato peeler on a garlic bulb, cringing at his fumbling flirting with older omegas who obviously had no interest in the pheromone saturated minor - it took any and all mystique away.

And Hoseok… Hoseok was Hoseok. Outgoing, inviting, kind, warm, always smiling with the most welcoming scent. He drew Jin in like a planet orbiting a sun, like he’d done with Namjoon and Yoongi before, like he did with Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin later. It was impossible to know Hoseok and not be his friend.

But with Yoongi there was distance no matter how frequently they were thrown together. He’d seemed confused by Jin’s presence, bored and uninterested the few times they were alone together. When Jin made jokes Yoongi looked personally affronted, when Jin sang Yoongi sat unimpressed, when Jin brought food to share Yoongi did not partake.

While his behaviour stung, Jin understood their opposing differences. Yoongi had fought against his parents wishes and turned his back on further education to become a trainee in a highly competitive field with no certainty of success. He’d moved across the country into a cramped dorm with kids he barely knew, worked two jobs from dawn to long after dark, and gave one hundred percent for this dream even at the expense of his own health.

Jin did not. Jin lived at home. Jin attended university. Jin devoted his precious free time to PC cafes while spending the money his parents gave him.

When he’d joined BigHit Jin wasn’t sure he’d last the first week, then the first month. Initially he viewed the opportunity as a stepping stone to his true acting dreams, a way to get his name out there. There wasn’t a future here, not in a unknown company on the verge of bankruptcy, but if they could release a single or two before it all fell apart he’d be in a better position than most of his peers.

Despite his lacking passion, over the early weeks he took the boba eyed duckling Jungkook under his wing, became closer with Namjoon and Hoseok, made the mistake of bonding with Hyosang. But the distance between him and Yoongi remained. Nothing had changed there.

He believed that right up until Hoseok poked his head into a tiny break room with an innocuous question that completely turned their relationship around.

“I used to think you hated me,” Jin says into Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi’s scent flickers like a flame in the wind. “Eh? Where is this coming from?”

“I was thinking about when we were trainees, right back in the beginning. How we got off on the wrong foot before my charms won you over.”

He awaits a playful dig at his non-existent charms because eighteen year old Jin was a self-conscious, introverted virgin, who had less game than Namjoon. Namjoon.

“I never hated you,” Yoongi says. “I had a crush on you.”

Jin sits up to stare at him.

Yoongi had a crush on him? Yoongi? The alpha that omega trainees swooned over?

Yoongi sips his beer but as Jin stares his face takes on a pink flush. “You didn’t know?” he asks when he lowers his drink. “Isn’t that what you’re talking about?”

“No. How would I have known?”

“I wasn’t subtle.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s been eight years and I’m learning this for the first time.” Jin narrows his eyes at Yoongi. “You’re making this up, aren’t you?”

“Ask Hoseokie. He used to tease me about it.”

“He knew?” Jin asks. It’s not what he’d told Jin in that break room.

“Again, I wasn’t subtle.”

Jin considers the slow evolution of their relationship from colleague to friend to pack member. In no part of their trainee days did he think anything romantic was there. Later, possibly, but not back then. “Name one time your crush was obvious.”

“I asked you out and you turned me down.”

Jin gawks at Yoongi. He can’t imagine what his scent would be now if it worked but Yoongi’s is a base of simmering embers with plumes of fire and bursts of heavy smoke. It’s a strange mix that would have been too much from anyone else but Yoongi makes it surprisingly pleasant.

“When?” Jin asks.

“On my eighteenth birthday.”

It takes Jin a few moments to recall that particular day. Jin was at university during the morning and had stopped by the company for training in the afternoon but he barely saw Yoongi aside from when he blew out the candles on his cake. In the evening they’d gone out for a cheap meal with some of the managers and most of the remaining trainees. Afterwards those underage had gone home while the adults stayed, drinking too much until they all split off one by one. Hyosang and another trainee were supposed to be with them but somehow it ended up just Jin and Yoongi heading back to the dorms alone.

At no point from their first words to their last had Yoongi asked him out. Jin had not been drunk enough to have forgotten such a thing.

Most shocking of all though, is that Yoongi’s birthday was months after they met, months after Hoseok had dropped into the break room, months after they became friends.

He had a crush all that time? Or part of that time? For how long?

“You didn’t,” Jin says and doesn’t address the revelation that has utterly re-contextualised their past.

Thank God his scent is broken because it would be slipping out of control.

“We walked home holding hands and I said I was glad I’d fought off all the other alphas to have you to myself.”

Jin chuckles weakly. “Was that your line? I might have been more impressed if there were any alphas for you to fight.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “There were alphas and I did fight them. Why else do you think we were alone?”

Jin’s smiles weakens further when he realises Yoongi is serious. He takes a swig of his beer instead and drops his head back against the headboard. He can’t sit facing him any longer.

“We stopped to look at the stars but I kept thinking about how my hand was too sweaty and you were too pretty. I knew it would be stupid to ask you out and risk ruining the group but it felt like there was something between us and I wanted to know so badly if you’d risk it all for me too.”

Jin stares straight ahead at the wall. That was not the vibe he’d gotten from that evening at all. He’d figured it was the alcohol that had made Yoongi so touchy and he was clinging to Jin only because there was no one else to keep him upright.

“I pointed out that it was my birthday and we were both adults of the same age,” Yoongi says.

“And I asked if that was your way of bargaining for same age privileges.”

“And I said I’d rather court you.”

Oh.

“And you said I’d have a better chance asking to drop honorifics,” Yoongi says in Jin’s silence.

I’m a fucking idiot, Jin thinks. He clears his throat. “I, um, thought you were being sarcastic. I would never have rejected you so harshly if I’d realised.”

“But you would have rejected me?” Yoongi asks.

Jin brings his bottle to his mouth and takes a languorous drink as his thoughts whirr.

Yoongi laughs. “You can be honest. I promise I’m over my teenage heartbreak. I’m just curious now.”

“If I’m totally honest,” Jin says with growing humiliation, “I would have very politely turned you down and then made an excuse to run home and freak out there. Then I would have pretended to be sick and skip training until someone came to drag me back.”

Yoongi snorts. “If I didn’t know you better I might be offended at that.”

“But you do know it had nothing to to do with you personally, right? I was shy back then.” And easily spooked by romantic overtures. And alphas. “I would have reacted the same if anyone asked me out.”

“Yeah I know now. I should have taken my time with you.”

Jin’s heart flutters. He dares to slide his gaze to Yoongi and is mortified to make eye contact. Why now of all times? He distracts himself with draining the last of his beer. “Yeah. Well.”

Yoongi chugs the remainder of his bottle. “I can’t believe this is what we ended up talking about,” he mumbles.

“Me neither. I thought losing all my hair would be the most shocking part of my day but you topped it.”

Yoongi barks out a laugh which draws a wide smile from Jin. He loves Yoongi’s silent laughter but he loves when he’s loud too, and he loves that he’s the reason behind it.

“Do you want another beer?” Yoongi asks.

Jin shakes his head. “This has been nice,” he says, and continues slower, with careful consideration of his words, “and I wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

Yoongi is quiet. Then he sighs. “It has been nice.” With that he stands and collects Jin’s beer bottle before heading to the door. With his hand on the handle he halts, looking over his shoulder to Jin. “Not to ruin things-”

“Then don’t.”

Yoongi’s smile is sad. “Just… I’m always here. If you want to tell me a secret. Or if you want another beer.”

Jin stares, torn between resentment and appreciation.

“Goodnight, hyung.” Yoongi slips through his door and it closes with a polite click.

Jin sinks back into the mattress. Their conversation plays over in his head as he tries to find the least painful position to lie in.

What was eighteen year old Yoongi thinking? Management would never have allowed a relationship between trainees and they certainly would never have allowed them to be in a group together, much less to be pack.

It would have been the end of their future with BigHit.

Either Yoongi had been too drunk to think his confession through or…

There’s no or. Jin was never worth Yoongi throwing away his career.

#

Jin isn’t sure when he fell asleep but he wakes to someone curling around him and snuffling at his nape.

“Taehyung-ah?” he groggily asks.

“No.”

Jin recognises the moody tone first and then the mint sprinkled with tea tree. He pats the arm heavy at his waist. “Good morning Kook.”

“Morning hyung.”

He’s on the verge of dozing off again when Jungkook drapes his leg over Jin’s and pain flares in his hip. He yelps and the reflexive jolt kick start a series of aches throughout his body.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Jin bites his lip and pushes his face into his pillow. It takes time but the pain recedes.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Jungkook asks again.

Jin opens his eyes to Jungkook hovering over him, his scent taking an astringent turn. It must still be early because it’s dark around the edges of his curtain and only the glow of a few scattered LEDs provide light, just enough to outline Jungkook and highlight his worried expression. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He gently pushes Jungkook back but it’s like trying to move a brick wall.

“You’re in pain again.”

“I’m not.”

“Hyung-”

“Really I’m fine. It’s this cold weather making my body a little stiff in the mornings. Give me some time to loosen up and then you can continue your abuse.” He pushes Jungkook again but he sits up instead of flopping back to his side of the bed.

“Take off your pyjamas.”

“What?”

“I said strip.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Now. Your alpha wants to see you naked.”

“Excuse me?” Jin shrieks.

Jungkook snickers. “I’m going to give you a massage,” he says, and Jin can’t see his obnoxious smile but he hears it in his tone.

“A massage? And that’s how you ask me, you pervert?” He slaps Jungkook’s arm knowing it’ll hurt himself more but he can’t let the cheek slide.

“Hyung, what did you think I meant?”

“That you no longer wished to live on this mortal coil. Your alpha wants to see you naked,” Jin imitates with added sleaze. “Have you been booking in sessions with Namjoonie’s PC again?”

“No. It’s not 2013 anymore, I watch porn on my phone like a normal person.”

“How lonely that PC must be without its most frequent visitor.”

“Don’t pretend you never used it too.”

“Now and again but not twice daily! How you didn’t get carpal tunnel syndrome is beyond me.”

“I was never that bad, shut up,” Jungkook says, but smushes his face into the pillow like he’s trying to hide from the conversation.

“Mmmhmm.”

Jungkook springs into a sitting position and pushes Jin’s pyjama top up to his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Jin shouts, fighting against Jungkook to pull his top down. “Get off me.”

“I told you, I’m giving you a massage.”

“I don’t want one.”

“Then stop me.” The LEDs catch the point of Jungkook’s alpha fangs while his scent is a slap of cold wind and blustering pheromones. A challenge, but the taste of butter mints on Jin’s tongue says a playful challenge.

And, despite knowing better, Jin takes up on it.

They wrestle, or more like Jin tries to clothe himself and Jungkook simply holds his wrists in the air. The jostling doesn’t help his body and quicker than ever before, he gives up.

“You’re done?” Jungkook waggles Jin’s arms, either attempting a second round or testing Jin’s defeat. “Already?”

“You’re the one who woke me up at the crack of dawn. I don’t have the energy to be putting alphas back in their place.”

Though it’s rarely stopped him before, even in the middle of the night. Somehow Jungkook always has a way of riling Jin up, of turning calm, quiet moments of scenting and snuggling into a scrapping skirmish. It used to garner them a lot of complaints and side-eyeing from Yoongi back when they were roommates.

Jungkook releases his wrists with surprising gentleness. “It’s not that early, hyung.”

“When someone wakes you up against your will it’s always too early.”

“You can go back to sleep while I give you a massage.”

“Why are you so insistent on this? What’s gotten into you?” Jin doesn’t need to exaggerate the suspicion in his voice; he is suspicious. Jungkook does give Jin more massages than anyone but those are casual moments of affection. Unless it’s an act of bribery but he’s usually outright in his devious intentions.

“Why are you so against it, hyung? You’re always the one begging for a massage.”

“Exactly. And now you’re freely offering without wanting anything in return? Are you going to sprinkle me with itching powder or something.”

Jungkook shakes his head and his messy hair falls even more in his face. “No, stop being paranoid.”

“Then you stop acting weird.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Are.”

“Not.”

“Ar-gh,” Jin yelps as Jungkook pounces. There’s no collision, no contact even, but the sudden movement surprises him, makes him yell, makes him flinch, makes pain strike through so many parts of his body.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles. “Did that hurt?”

“A little,” Jin admits. He breathes out, and opens his scrunched shut eyelids. He finds Jungkook backed away, perched at the edge of the mattress, the blue lights haloing his hair and catching on the very tip of his nose. “I’m okay though.”

Jungkook’s scent subtly shifts around, too quick for Jin to hold and pinpoint. Before it’s settled his hands slide up the mattress and he leans down. Jin pushes back into the pillow, squinting in open distrust, anticipating a lick or raspberries blown on his cheek, perhaps an alpha growl directly into his ear.

What he gets is Jungkook touching their foreheads together. It takes a second or two but Jin is able to relax into the pack gesture, bask in the fondness even. Jungkook then pecks a kiss on the same spot. And then a second. Only the second kiss lingers, and his palm curves around Jin’s face, his thumb stroking the rough skin of his cheekbone. “I’m sorry, hyung,” he says, still close enough his lips brush Jin’s forehead when he speaks. “I’ll look after you better.”

Jin’s heart lurches. Is that what this is all about? Has Jungkook taken it upon himself to act as Jin’s carer?

No. Absolutely not. He’s their maknae, their baby packmate. He will not inflict that responsibility on himself. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Kook-ah, I’m having a bad few days but I’m going to be fine, I promise. I don’t need you to look after me, I’m more than capable of doing that myself.”

Jungkook huffs and his breath blows through the remains of Jin’s fringe. “It’s not about you being capable or not needing me, we’re pack and we should take care of each other.”

Jin opens his mouth to absolve him of such duty but Jungkook continues.

“And it’s you, hyung, I want to look after you.”

Jin closes his mouth. What does that mean? The emphasis is bewildering so Jin parries with humour. “You flatterer you. You’re going to make me feel special if you keep saying such things.”

“You are special to me.”

Jin is grateful it’s too dark to see each other’s faces as he splutters out something between a cough and a choked laugh. “What a flirt you’ve become, JK. Who should I blame for teaching you such behaviour? No, don’t tell me. It’s Jiminie isn’t it? Ah, I should have realised it that moment a jacket happened to slip off your shoulder and you flashed your bare skin. No wonder you’ve been hitting the gym so hard if you’re going to be accidentally stripping all the time.”

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, but it’s with an exasperated giggle. He rests his forehead on the pillow but still holds himself over Jin, not touching, not hurting, but close enough to share in his alpha body heat.

Jin mock gasps. “And he doesn’t even know he’s doing it? Quick, pass my phone. I need to call a priest to cleanse you of this corrupting influence.”

“You’re too much, hyung.”

“Oh, I’m the one that’s too much. Not my innocent little dongsaeng who was trying to undress me a few minutes ago.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“And this is how you go about it?” Jin clicks his tongue. “When normal people offer they do so with words and a sense of decency.”

“Okay, okay. Hyung, would you like a massage?”

“No. Now go away.” Jin throws the duvet over his head, and by extension Jungkook’s head.

Jungkook pushes it away. “Hyung, it’ll make you feel better.”

Jin pulls the duvet back. “So will letting me sleep in.”

Quiet follows. Jin gives it a few seconds before closing his eyes.

There’s rustling beside him and then, “I’m filming, hyung, and you owe me.”

Jin flings the duvet away to find a phone in his face. “What are you talking about? You better not be recording.”

"I am.” Jungkook spins the phone around and displays the red circle, though in the dark of the room everything on screen is varying shades of grey and black. “I’m going to film this massage and put it on YouTube.”

“You are not.”

“You agreed, remember? When you came to my room after you… took a break, you said you’d make it up to me by letting me film you do anything. So this is what I want to film.” Jungkook turns the camera onto Jin and leans backwards, presumably to get a wider shot. “Shall I switch to night vision when you take off your clothes? Do you think ARMY will like that more?”

Jin doesn’t answer immediately because there’s no way Jungkook can be serious. Yes he agreed to be filmed and he expects to be embarrassed but this is absurd. He’s not having the entire world viewing him shirtless in bed with another member oiling him up in the dark.

And neither will BigHit.

“They’ll never see it because no one’s going to allow you to post it.”

“I can get the password and post it myself.”

“They’ll delete it.”

“I’m fine with that if you are.”

Of course he’s fine with it. By the time anyone realises and takes action the video will have been seen thousands of times and downloaded by the quickest fans to be shared over and over.

Jin snatches at Jungkook’s phone, but a spasm in his side has him hissing and halting.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, the phone pivoted to the side to film some shelves.

“If I say no will you stop.”

Jungkook turns off the recording. “Does it really bother you?”

“Yes. I distinctly remember adding a no nudity clause to that promise of letting you film me. Don’t think I won’t sue.”

The LEDs glow around the apple of Jungkook’s cheeks as he smiles. “I meant the massage.”

“God, you’re relentless,” Jin huffs. He flops his arms to the side so he’s starfished across the bed. “Fine, have at it. Go wild.”

“I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” There’s genuine happiness in his voice as if he’s the one who’s solicited a massage out of Jin. Even his scent is thick with alpha pheromones.

“You better. I want to feel like soft tofu when you’re done.”

“The softest. Now take your top off and roll over.” Jungkook grabs his phone and hops off the bed. “You can keep your underwear on, if you want.”

Jin chucks a pillow which Jungkook easily sidesteps. He laughs and misses Jin sucking in a sharp breath at the stab that went through his arm. He doesn’t risk moving immediately after, and it’s only this lack of action that has him catching Jungkook picking up a body cream that he replaced with one of the neutralisers.

“Don’t use that,” he blurts out in a pitch too high.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder and the glare of his phone screen casts shadows up the wall. “Why not?”

“Because. I want massage oil.”

“Do you have any?”

“Maybe. Probably. Somewhere. Keep looking.” He doubts that he has any but he’s more than willing to send Jungkook on a scavenger hunt room to room if it stops him opening that body cream and smelling the neutraliser within.

The jars clink and clack as Jungkook dutifully searches and no doubt arranges the contents into neat rows.

“Ah, found it.” Jungkook flourishes a small bottle. “Did you know this expires next month?”

“Not at all.” He’s more surprised that it exists and is still in date.

“I’m going to go wash my hands.” Jungkook’s voice takes on an alpha undertone when he adds, “You better be undressed when I get back.”

“You better pray-”

Jungkook scampers out of his bedroom leaving the door open.

“-that I let you back in,” Jin yells, not caring if he wakes anyone up. He entertains the idea of locking his door but as much as he loves teasing Jungkook it does mean getting up. Instead he rolls onto his back, pausing at the twinge in his lower back, pausing at the twinge in his neck, pausing at the twinge in his lower back again, pausing at the twinge in his shoulder. When he’s lying on his front he’s a lot warmer than he was a minute ago and now more willing to drag his pyjama top off.

He considers the bite mark on his arm. It’s too dark to see it but still he keeps that one sleeve on. Just in case.

Jungkook returns. “Wow, you didn’t lock the door and you’re ready. Thank you for listening to your alpha.”

“Junkook-ah, I’m three seconds away from throwing you out of this building and changing the passcode.”

“Like you could.”

Jin pushes himself up. Fuck the pain, fuck Jungkook being stronger, Jin is going to kill him.

He grits his teeth at the first strain but then Jungkook’s hand is between his shoulder blades urging him to lay back down. “I’m kidding, I’m sorry, don’t move.”

Jin acquiesces. Of his own accord, of course. “All you’ve done is ruin my morning so far so this massage has a lot to live up to.”

“I bet you’ll be begging for more by the end.” There’s rustling movement and then the bed dips as Jungkook sits beside Jin.

Cold liquid splashes on his back and Jin flinches. “Yah, some warning would be nice.”

“I’m going to start,” Jungkook says with a huff of laughter.

Jin might have slapped leg but Jungkook gently presses his palms into Jin’s back and soothes upwards. “How’s the pressure?”

“You can go harder.”

“You like it hard?” Jungkook asks, with an implying tone.

Jin sighs. “I should have put a child lock on Namjoon’s PC.”

Jungkook snickers to himself but begins the massage. Jin lays like a stiff board, half-expecting to find out the liquid being spread across his skin is shampoo, or ice cream, or paint, or something equally ridiculous. And even when he’s certain the massage oil is massage oil he remains tense, unable to shut off his replaying thoughts or the anticipation of pain.

“Is the pressure too hard?” Jungkook asks.

“No, you’re fine.”

Jungkook stops and shuffles around behind him. When Jin is on the verge of asking what he’s doing the overhead light comes on but dimmed and purple, hardly more light than the LEDs gave. Then his Alexa starts playing generic spa music and Jungkook’s hands are back on him like he never left.

Jungkook works his lower back upwards, slowing or paying extra attention to the areas where Jin makes noises of discomfit. He’s surprisingly attentive, determined too with his crisp and bracing scent almost domineering the perfume of the oil. It should be too distracting or invigorating but Jin is comforted by Jungkook’s aroma, and it’s the final push he needs to relax.

Jungkook moves up to Jin shoulders and neck, careful of his scent glands, except for the one time he presses too hard with his thumbnail, simulating a tooth bite that has Jin drawing in a gasp and twitching in his underwear.

“Asshole,” he mumbles.

Jungkook laughs because of course he did it on purpose. He continues on and Jin sinks back into half-dozing, so out of it he doesn’t notice Jungkook massaging his forearms until he’s gliding over the bite.

Jin freezes as excuses run rampant in his head. What can he say now? Repeat the lie he told Yoongi, the secret he asked Taehyung to keep, the story he let his mother believe? Invent something new?

He opens his mouth without knowing what’s going to come out only to realise Jungkook hasn’t noticed. The bruise is facing away from him and his fingers glide over his skin unknowingly. He also hasn’t noticed Jin staring so he closes his eyelids but remains on edge, waiting for a change in Jungkook’s scent or his hands to falter.

Minutes pass and Jungkook moves up to Jin’s wrist, to his hand, to his fingers. Jin can’t relax. All it takes is for Jungkook to twist his arm a little more, or for him to shift to a different position and he’ll see.

Jungkook doesn’t though. He squeezes Jin’s hand one last time and moves around the bed to his other side and begins on that arm.

Jin exhales a long breath and deflates into his mattress. It takes a little longer for the anxiety to leave his system before he can really enjoy the massage again, though once he does he’s back to half-dozing.

Jungkook finishes his second arm and before Jin has the chance to be disappointed it’s over, Jungkook is moving to the bottom of the bed and starting on his legs. He has a few seconds of surprise before he’s sinking back into the pleasure.

Jungkook massages his calves then pushes the pyjama bottoms up to reach Jin’s lower thighs. And mid thighs. And then higher. Jungkook’s fingertips skirt Jin’s sensitive inner thigh and he jolts, instinctively squeezing his legs together and accidentally trapping Jungkook’s hand.

Jungkook makes a noise and Jin quickly opens his legs.

“That’s too high!” he squeaks. After a beat he aims a kick in the alpha’s direction to emphasise his statement.

The kick misses but Jungkook retreats. “Is this okay?” he asks, hands just above Jin’s the back of Jin’s knee.

“That’s fine.”

Jungkook’s hand slide an inch or two upwards. “What about here?”

“That’s fine too.”

His hands creep up another few inches. “And here?”

“That’s-”

Up again, almost to where he was before. “Here?”

He’s doing it on purpose. Jin should have realised sooner. “Jungkook-ah,” he says, weaving a pitiful beta growl into his voice to add weight to the warning.

Jungkook’s scent surges ice cold but sweetened with buttery mint, overpowering the fragrant oil and filling up the room. He issues his own growl, his own warning that he’s meeting Jin’s non-challenge.

Before Jin can admonish either himself or Jungkook, the alpha’s nails graze just below Jin’s crotch and he jolts again.

“Was it here that’s too high?”

A knock on the door startles them both. “Jin hyung, are you awake?” Jimin asks. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Jin says.

“Yes,” Jungkook says.

The door opens and Jimin takes a step before faltering. “What are you two doing?” he asks, gaze flickering from the dim purple overhead light, to Jin shirtless on the bed and covered in oil, to Jungkook reaching up Jin’s pyjama leg.

“Nothing,” Jin and Jungkook reply in unison.

Jimin’s lack of reaction is damning.

“Massage,” Jin blurts out. “Jungkookie is giving me a massage.” He wiggles his leg to shake Jungkook off.
“Why are you both naked?”

Both? Jin lifts up onto his elbows and peers over his shoulder. Jungkook is naked. “Why are you naked?” he asks, louder than he means to.

“I didn’t want to get oil on my clothes.” Jungkook finally drags his hand free of Jin’s pyjamas and kneels on the mattress. “And I’m not naked, I kept my underwear on.” He slips his thumb into his boxer briefs and tugs at the material.

Jimin’s scent tweaks into something a little more interested. Jin screws up his face at the both of them.

“Jimin-ah, are you talking to hyung?” Taehyung calls and footsteps grow louder. “Is he up?”

“Nope.” Jimin hops backwards and closes the door in one action. “Hyung’s sleeping,” he says, voice muffled.

“I thought I heard-” The footsteps stop outside Jin’s bedroom. “Why does it smell like Jungkookie?”

“Ah. Well. He’s sleeping in there too.”

There’s silence. Jin glances to Jungkook and Jungkook glances to him.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Let’s get breakfast,” Jimin says in a rush. “Come on.”

There’s more silence and then the footsteps lead away.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks.

Jin shrugs. Maybe something to do with Taehyung’s upcoming pre-rut that everyone tells him isn’t upcoming?

“So…” Jungkook lightly pinches Jin’s ankle. “Want me to continue?”

Jin flops back down and is hit with aches through his hip to his neck. “Yes,” he answers. “I’ll be lopsided if you stop now.”

Jungkook pushes his other pyjama leg up.

“If you go too high again I’m going to kick you in the dick. And I won’t miss this time.”

“I forgot, how high was too high?”

“Alright, I’m done,” Jin says and makes to sit up but Jungkook stops him.

“I’m kidding, I’ll be good.”

“Like you know the meaning.”

But Jungkook is good. He massages Jin’s right leg without anymore teasing and even gets a towel to dab away the excess oil. When he’s done he clambers into the bed beside Jin who hasn’t moved.

“How do you feel now?” he asks.

Jin turns his head to face Jungkook. “Mmm, much better.” And it’s true. For the first time in too long nothing hurts. He feels like he did before his suppressants failed; healthy, functioning. If this is what it takes to be normal it’s doable. BigHit can hire a professional masseuse for daily appointments and Jin can stay on the suppressants and stay in BTS. “Thank you,” Jin says, and means it for more than just the massage.

“Anytime.” Jungkook’s smile is soft. He drags the duvet over the two of them and snuggles close enough that he’s mostly on Jin’s pillow. “Let’s sleep now.”

“We should be getting up, not going back to sleep.” Jin doesn’t move though. It’s cosy under the duvet and his body is so kneaded to putty he’s not sure he could get up if he tried.

“Just for a bit. Ten- twenty minutes max.” Jungkook’s eyelids close.

“Twenty minutes then,” Jin agrees. But neither of them set an alarm.

#

Sejin rings in the afternoon. The dorms are half empty with the living room vacant and the door closed so Jin takes the call there.

“What can I do for you, hyung?”

“I wanted to check in. How are you feeling today?” Sejin asks.

“Better than yesterday.” But not as good as that morning. What was discomfit is now aggravation and it will be worse before the day ends. “Jungkookie gave me a massage and it helped with the twinges I’ve been having so I want to book in daily sessions with a masseuse. I know it might be difficult to fit around my schedule but I’ll make it work.”

“I can certainly do that.”

“You can?” Jin is pleasantly surprised at the lack of push back.

“Of course. Would you prefer appointments in the morning or later in the day.”

“The morning. First thing.”

“I’ll get that arranged.” There’s a few seconds of silence and Jin can perfectly picture Sejin slowing his stride as he makes notes on his phone. Then he asks, “Is that the only appointment you want me to make?”
He’s inferring Dr Ahn again.

Jin ignores that. “I’d like to see a dermatologist too.”

“Dr Ahn would be the one to make that referral.”

Of course she would be. “Leave it then.”

“Are you sure? I think she’s available this morning.”

“I’m sure.” He can make other arrangements. She’s not the only doctor in the world.

“If you change your mind I can make that appointment at any time, even after hours.” Before Jin can think of a response Sejin switches the topic. “How’s Taehyungie?”

“Taehyungie? I haven’t seen him today. Why?”

“I’m checking up on him too. How was he when you got back last night?”

“Upset and a bit needy.”

“Do you still think it’s due to an early rut?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell.”

“Hmm, perhaps his own suppressants should be reexamined,” Sejin says, though it sounds like he’s musing to himself.

Really? Could that be it? Taehyung’s own suppressants sending him haywire? But why now? It can’t be a coincidence but how can it be because of Jin’s suppressants failing? That wouldn’t affect Taehyung, and even if it somehow did then why wouldn’t the other alphas or Jimin be affected? They’re all on suppressants, they’re all pack; why one and not the others?

“Keep me updated if you notice any more changes in Taehyungie’s behaviour,” Sejin says. “And look after yourself.”

“Yeah, I will. See you tomorrow.”

They hang up. Jin is settling back down when he spies something out of the corner of his eye. Taehyung standing in the middle of the living room. His scent hasn’t reached Jin yet so he can’t have been there long.

“Who are you seeing tomorrow?” he asks.

A second figure bursts into the room holding a gift basket. “Tae-yah, why did you run here?” Jimin asks.

“Who? Taehyung repeats.

“Sejin hyung,” Jin says and nods at the basket in Jimin’s hands. “What have you got there?”

“It’s for you. Why are you two talking about Sejin hyung?”

Taehyung grabs the basket from Jimin and drops it on the dining table that separates them. “Who sent you this? Was it Sejin hyung?”

“No, I sent it to me.” Jin pushes off the chaise lounge and his feet thrum when he touches the floor. He reaches for the gift basket but Taehyung tugs it out of reach. His scent hits Jin then, burning plastic and speckled with pepper. It sticks in the back of his throat.

“You’re lying, you didn’t know it was for you.”

“I didn’t know for-”

“It’s from Sejin hyung, isn’t it?”

“No, I already said it isn’t-”

Taehyung snarls. With teeth bared, with an alpha’s threat in his overpowering odour and tense stance. It’s not the action of one packmate to another, it’s the action of an alpha preparing to fight.

Both Jin and Jimin freeze. They know better than to run.

Taehyung presses his palms down on the dining table. His breath is ragged and his voice is chilling when he says, “I know you’re having an affair with Sejin hyung.”