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There’s a rush in what Yoongi and RM have, something dark and intense that keeps a thrill in the alpha’s body for every Saturday night.
Normally they’d exchange quips after each other finished their sets in the underground club, biting trash talk and smug jabs thrown like knives. Maybe they’d diss each other in their lyrics, provoking the other.
Maybe they’d come close to fighting. That's happened once or twice, too.
So when RM finishes his performance, patrons cheering him on as he descends into the crowd, Yoongi’s moving his way, a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t even get a syllable out before RM just shoulders past him, hood up and eyes to the ground.
Yoongi’s a little taken aback, thinking they’re going straight into a fight, but when he turns to grab RM’s shoulder, the other alpha is already making his way through the doors of the backrooms.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. Dick. Sure, his set was decent, but does he think he’s too good to talk to anyone now? Too good to hang around after he performs? He’s got groupies, for god sakes, even if he’s never seen leaving the club with any of them.
The annoyance builds in him for another reason though. As much as they push and taunt and fight, they still always watch each other perform. It’s an unspoken rule between the two alphas.
But RM left before Yoongi even went on, and that pisses him off.
By the time his set’s over, and RM is still nowhere to be seen in the crowd, Yoongi is furious. Fuck it.
Hopping from the stage, Yoongi follows RM’s earlier example, storming back towards the storage rooms turned dressing rooms in the back of the club. He gets to RM’s door, a little placard marked Rkive hanging next to it.
Yoongi pounds on his door, “RM!”
There’s no response, so Yoongi waits a few more seconds before bringing his fist up again, hitting the wood as he yells, “The fuck is your problem tonight?”
Still, nothing. This fucking guy…
Clenching his jaw, Yoongi opens the door, ready to call out the other alpha for his shit etiquette, but when it opens, the wave of pheromones threaten to knock him back and off his feet.
Scents in the club are a haze, alpha, beta, and a scarce few omega pheromones mixing together into a cacophony of scents. It’s hard to single out a specific scent to any specific person. RM though, Yoongi could always seem to find, strong and masculine in an overwhelming sort of way. It rubbed at him when he could detect it amongst the crowd, grated at his instincts.
That scent is nowhere to be found in RM’s dressing room. With the door open, Yoongi is hit with a strong wave of jasmine omega pheromones.
Omega heat pheromones.
His first knee-jerk thought is that RM ducked back to his dressing room to finally fuck one of his omega groupies, and that boils up a dark rage inside Yoongi that unfamiliar to him. The anger leaves just as quickly as it came though, when instead of seeing RM mounting someone, he finds the other alpha curled in on himself on his dingy loveseat.
RM’s physically shaking, the scent in the room sickeningly sweet with distress. Once he gathers Yoongi’s presence, his head jerks up. He lets out a warning hiss, teeth clenched as he bites out, “Leave.”
He’s trying to come off threatening, doing his best to intimidate Yoongi into leaving, and honestly, it almost works. He’s never seen RM so intense. But his eyes and his scent betray him. Behind the act right now, Yoongi can tell.
Tough, solid, commanding RM-- he’s scared. And just like that, it clicks.
RM’s an omega, and a great smelling one at that.
Shit.
Cursing under his breath, Yoongi quickly shuts the door, doing the bare minimum to prevent the pheromones from reaching the edge of the crowd a few feet away. The action has RM tensing though, ready for a fight.
“I mean it,” the omega warns. “Get out, Suga.”
Yoongi just stares, processing, “You’re not an alpha.”
RM rolls his eyes, moving to sit up, “So? I could still lay you the fuck out.”
To that, Yoongi does bristle, feeling challenged in a way that only RM’s ever been able to do. The heat pheromones are agitating him though, adding a new layer that makes it harder for Yoongi to hold in his immediate responses.
He’s ready to quip back, but then a tremble runs through RM’s body so hard it causes the omega to wince, a muffled whimper slipping out.
“Fuck,” Right. Not the time to fight. “Just stay here a second.”
He receives a glare in response as RM shivers, but Yoongi takes it as a reluctant agreement, opening the door just enough to squeeze out. Rushing, he dips into his own dressing room, grabbing a jacket, scarf, a few other odds and ends before heading back, not bothering to knock as he slides back into the omega’s space.
“Here,” Yoongi says, tossing the clothing next to RM on the loveseat.
“What?”
“Put them on, it’ll cover up your scent long enough so we can get you out of here.”
RM scoffs, “We? Why should I go anywhere with you ? Why should I trust you?”
Yoongi gives him a level stare, “As far as I see it, you have two options: let me help you get out of this place crawling with skeezy alpha creeps, or you can stay here in your dressing room-- that doesn’t have a lock by the way-- and hope that none of them stumble into here.”
The omega falters, “I-I mean--”
“RM, you know some of the alphas out there,” Yoongi insists. “They aren’t gonna be any sort of gentleman. I don’t doubt you can handle yourself one on one, but do you seriously think you have good chances against a whole pack of them?”
“Okay!” RM cuts him off. It's still for a moment before he swallows, nodding shakily. Silently, he stands, wrapping the scarf around his neck, and while the jacket definitely won’t fit in any capacity, it’s enough to cover the scent glands on his wrists. Yoongi watches as RM takes a deep breath, steeling himself before stating, “Let’s get out of here then.”
Yoongi turns to leave, but RM grabs his arm to stop him first, “You try anything and I snap your neck, got it?”
All over again, the fight rises in Yoongi. He jerks his arm out of RM’s grasp. “Trust me, not a fucking problem. Your status doesn't change the fact you're a dick.”
“Good,” RM bites at him, pushing past Yoongi to leave the room first. Rolling his eyes, the alpha follows, doing his best to stay close as they make their way through the dense flock of people crowding the main floor of the club. They get a few strange looks for leaving together. Their feud has been very public, both sets usually hurling insults at each other. After a second or two of staring, each time the face in the crowd will turn away, knowing its best to stay out of whatever is happening between RM and Suga.
The entire time, the tension in RM is a visible thing, the omega doing his best to not touch anyone as he shoulders past them, and Yoongi hasn’t missed the death grip he has on the other’s jacket wrapped around his arms. He catches a whiff of the jasmine scent, but it’s so faint, and he definitely wouldn’t have associated it with RM if he hadn’t been assaulted with the proof minutes prior.
It’s a stressful thirty seconds, but soon enough they’re making their way out the side entrance, into the night air that’s gone cold. Yoongi has a fleeting wonder if it might rain. Either way, the open air and less of a crowd has him breathing a little easier.
“Thanks,” RM grunts, moving to hand Yoongi his jacket back. “I can get home from here.”
All over again, Yoongi stiffens, “No offense, but I don’t think you can. There are alphas all--”
“I know,” RM grits out, and Yoongi shuts up. The omega rubs his face frustratedly before speaking again, “Why do you care anyway? We don’t even like each other.”
The alpha shrugs, “I don’t have to like you to want to make sure you get home safe. I’d rather not have your life on my conscience, so...” And even as he says it, he knows it sounds dramatic, but really, it's not exactly. The club isn't in the nicest part of Seoul, and the clientele it draws can be even worse. It only takes two bad alphas together for RM to be-- Yoongi’s hackles rise at the thought.
RM looks ready to kick up a fight, but a hard shiver wracks through him again, and with it, this time a slight scent of slick makes its way to Yoongi. He’s ashamed that it makes him so aroused, but he tamps down that quickly. The last thing RM needs to worry about right now is Yoongi’s dumb libido. He can address that whole mess of being attracted to RM’s scent later, once he didn't have the omega going to heat in the slums of Seoul in front of him.
“RM, please,” Yoongi’s near begging. “We’ll never talk about this again, just--”
“Namjoon,” the omega interrupts.
Yoongi pauses, brows creased, “What?”
“My name,” RM repeats, wrapping the jacket over his wrists again. “Namjoon.”
He’s pointedly not looking at Yoongi when he speaks, but he's still here. He's not storming away. He's staying, even if he doesn't necessarily seem to be happy about it.
After a few moments of silence, the alpha offers his own name, “Yoongi.”
Namjoon nods, but he doesn’t say anything else, still doesn't look at him.
Finally, Yoongi asks, “Where do you live then?”
Namjoon stares off toward the streets, littered with small groups of people, nightlife still active around them. He seems to ponder his response before he just sighs, deflating, “Not far from here.”
Yoongi goes to insist he should still help him get to his place, but Namjoon cuts him off with a look. “It’s a few stops up on the train. Let's get going.”
Tightening his grip on the jacket, Namjoon starts ahead, shouldering Yoongi as he turns in the direction leading to the station. The alpha bristles, but ultimately bites his tongue, following a few steps behind Namjoon silently.
Yoongi is quietly miffed at Namjoon’s curt treatment, even when he's helping him out, before realizing this isn’t really him thinking. As they walk in silence, reason returns over instinct, and by the time they board the train, Yoongi admits that he has no right to expect Namjoon to be good company for any reason.
Apart from the fact that they don’t really care for each other, this whole night has to be stressful for the omega. Alone, in a shitty club filled with some even shittier people, people who’d love to brag about taking on RM. Even out of cycle omegas dodge the place, let alone ones in preheat.
And that's another thing Yoongi’s still trying to wrap his head around. Omega. RM. RM as an omega. It’s bizarre to him.
Whenever he thought of a quintessential alpha, RM, or Namjoon, he guesses, was always the example that came to Yoongi’s mind. Tall, broad, intimidating. And he still is all of those things, silently brooding as he leads Yoongi off the train at his stop.
He’s just also an omega.
Admittedly, Yoongi’s a little embarrassed with himself for labeling people into stereotypes like that, regardless if Namjoon was the one hiding his omega status with what he assumes is suppressants and synthetic alpha scents. He fancies himself a better thinker than that, more open minded.
But Namjoon went out, so close to his heat, just to perform, and Yoongi can't wrap his head around why . It's not his place to chastise but, it was a dangerous move, absolutely reckless, and he can’t pin down why the thought of Namjoon being hurt makes him so upset.
Namjoon breaks the silence, “My apartment’s just a few blocks up.”
Yoongi just nods, following as Namjoon leads them up the street. It’s a busier part of itaewon, with the Saturday night crowd filling the sidewalks, richer students and foreigners. Much better than where they were. He has to push close to the omega a few times so as to not lose him, at one point even being shoved hard into Namjoon’s side.
Yoongi expects to be met with annoyance, but instead, he looks to see Namjoon blushing, face red as sweat starts to bead at his temple. He can catch the spike in Namjoon’s scent, and it drives him a little crazy if he's honest, but ultimately it's shadowed by the concerned alpha in him. Namjoon’s heat is nearly upon him, that much Yoongi can tell, and he hopes the omega wasn't exaggerating about his apartment being close. He needs to be indoors and safe, now.
“Sorry,” Yoongi offers anyway, gently ushering Namjoon forward faster and out of the crowd's way with a firm hand on his back.
Namjoon just shivers, less curt when he replies, “‘s fine. It’s just up ahead here.”
And it is, Namjoon soon punching the code to enter an apartment complex of a few stories. Once he’s inside, it’s the omega’s turn to breathe a little easier, wiping his forehead as he mutters, “Finally.”
Now home, Yoongi’s sure the omega’s about to tell him he’s no longer needed here, and he’ll be sent to his apartment to deal with the fact that not only is his ‘rap rival’ an omega, but the best smelling one he’s ever met. It’s not a conversation he’s excited to have with himself.
Selfishly though, he hopes the clothes of his Namjoon’s currently wearing will retain some of the jasmine scent.
Or even worse, some of his own scent will cling to Namjoon, a mock of the alpha’s presence during his inevitable heat.
Namjoon opens his mouth to speak, but once again, another shudder runs through him, but this one is almost violent, having the omega’s legs buckling.
“Shit,” Yoongi curses, lurching forward to grab the omega before he can fall. He's never seen the usefulness in his alpha strength, but in this moment, he's grateful for it, able to at least drape Namjoon’s arm over his shoulder to help him stand.
“S-Sorry,” Namjoon groans in obvious discomfort. “I always get jelly legs in preheat.”
“It's whatever,” Yoongi grunts, adjusting his hold. “Any chance you’re on the first floor?”
A dry chuckle, “Fourth.”
“Perfect.”
Miraculously, they’re able to get up the stairs, albeit slowly. Namjoon is obviously putting in effort to get his legs to cooperate, if the way he winces with every step is any indication. He points out his apartment door to Yoongi, and once there, the alpha politely looks away as the omega keys in his door code. After the beep, they stumble inside.
He sets Namjoon up on the couch, the omega sinking down in relief. Yoongi takes the opportunity to observe the space and it’s… not what he expected. He expected dark, sharp edges, masculine. But instead, the space is filled with plants and light wood furniture. There’s floor to ceiling windows that must brighten the space beautifully during the day, small knick knacks and pictures line the shelves. It’s very lived in, very homey. Relaxing.
Words he’d never expect to associate with RM from the dingy underground club.
Though after tonight, Yoongi isn’t sure what to associate Namjoon with anymore.
“Thanks,” Namjoon says sincerely, “For you know, helping me home. But also not being a creep.”
Yoongi snorts, “You shouldn't thank someone for that.”
Namjoon smiles humorlessly, “You're right. I shouldn't. But thanks anyway.”
A shrug, “No problem, I guess.”
Yoongi hadn’t realized it before, but the silence along the way here wasn’t awkward between them. Normally, he felt compelled to try and fill the silence with stilted conversation when in one on one scenarios, lest the silence become suffocating and stressful. But there wasn’t that pressure with Namjoon. The omega seemed to be okay with the quiet, too, and that was fair given the circumstances. Still, it was refreshing.
But this moment now is almost painfully awkward, the silence between them loud as Namjoon just sighs and closes his eyes, expression neutral as he leans his head back on the couch.
Yoongi’s not really sure how to leave, especially when he doesn't necessarily want to. He’ll go of course, whenever Namjoon dismisses him, but for now, his instincts are screaming at him to stay, to make sure Namjoon’s secure, safe, protected--
He shakes his head, snapping out of it. There’s never been an instance where his instincts cloud his thoughts like this. It scares him, but he’ll attribute it to the heat pheromones, something that’ll take the blame for all of Yoongi’s guilty thoughts tonight.
It was quiet for so long Yoongi and Namjoon both jump when a strike of lightning shines through the windows of the living room, a boom of thunder rumbling through the sky afterward. The silence is filled soon after with the sound of rain pattering against the glass, growing steady and hard fairly quickly.
Namjoon turns his head away from Yoongi to glance outside, sighing as he says, “You probably have questions.”
Even though Namjoon can't see it, he shrugs, “I guess, but doesn’t mean I have to ask them, or that you have to answer.”
This has Namjoon grinning, “You said we’ll never talk about this again, right?”
Yoongi thinks he recalls saying something like it at the club, “I did.”
“Then sit,” Namjoon gestures to the spot beside him on the couch. “I feel like a temporary truce is fair, given the circumstances.”
“Circumstances?”
Namjoon gives him an incredulous look, “You want to go back out in that?”
Yoongi looks between the window and Namjoon, voice quiet when he eventually replies, “I will if you want me to.”
“What a gentleman,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I know you won’t do anything. You’ve had plenty of chances and you haven't done shit. Besides,” Namjoon gives him a lingering once over, smirking as he says, “I still think I could take you. So… you can stay, at least until the rain stops.”
Yoongi must still look hesitant, so sighing, the omega continues, “My heat won’t come until tomorrow, so I'll just be sore and weak and whiny tonight. So sit, unless you want to look like a drowned cat by the time you reach the train station.”
It's an easy decision after that. Yoongi kicks off his shoes, flopping down onto the sofa, crossing his arms in front of himself nervously next to Namjoon. The omega closes his eyes once again, letting his head rest on the back of the sofa.
“So, omega, huh?” Yoongi just comes out with it, not looking to Namjoon for a reaction.
“Yep.” The omega pops his lips on the ‘p.’
“Let me guess; suppressants, scent blockers, alpha pheromone spray…?”
Namjoon chuckles, “Pretty much, yeah.”
Yoongi does look to him then, “Why?”
Namjoon looks at him as well, but his expression is, well... like he thinks Yoongi’s dumb for asking. After locking eyes for a few seconds, Namjoon seems to realize the question is sincere, and he scoffs, “Seriously?”
Yoongi blinks at him.
Namjoon rolls his eyes again. He’s been doing that a lot, “How many omega underground artists have you seen perform at that club?”
“A few do.”
Namjoon nods, “But how many have been taken seriously?”
That has Yoongi thinking. He’s seen them perform, some just as talented as anyone else there, but… he’s not blind, not foolish to think it’s all fair. He knows their criticism is different; no talks of their lyricism, just how they look, how fuckable they are, how great they’d sound in bed rather than on a stage.
“Exactly,” Namjoon says when Yoongi hasn’t replied.
Yoongi nods, conceding, “I can understand that, but I didn't think that’d be something that’d hold you back. Your lyricism is pretty pointed that you hate status roles. So why not come into the game as an omega? Really drive that point across?”
Namjoon gives an assessing look, “Tell me, if an omega came into the scene and rapped about how they’re just as good, if not better, than alphas at their own game, would you have respected it?”
Yoongi glanced away, speaking to the wall as he admitted, “If they were as good as you, yeah.”
Namjoon doesn’t say anything to that, so Yoongi’s head turns toward him. Namjoon’s blushing, but he has a smug smile on his face when he asks, “So you think I'm good?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, blushing, as he glares, “Well since we’re never talking about this again, then yes, I think you’re great.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Namjoon murmurs, eyes trailing Yoongi for a second before flicking away.
It's quiet again after that, the sound of the rain not slowing. It should be awkward, Yoongi thinks, but instead of this whole weird night feeling strange, it feels… calming. Like he’s scratching an itch that's been digging at his brain, learning about a mysterious figure that’s been tormenting him for months.
Tormenting... that really was dramatic to think, huh? Yoongi snorts.
“I want to change the way omegas are seen in the industry,” Namjoon admits softly, turning to look at Yoongi again. “I just know it won’t start in an underground club in the slums.” He shrugs halfheartedly, “I’m losing a battle here, but maybe one day I’ll win the war, you know?”
And Yoongi… gets it. Get your name out there first, get the reputation, the power and influence to back up your brand. Then change the game when you’re untouchable.
Yoongi smiles, “Well, Namjoon, if we’re never talking about this again after tonight, I'll just say that if anyone can do it, I think it'd be you.”
And Namjoon seems surprised at that, like he thought Yoongi would disagree, or mock him. Maybe that’s happened before. Yoongi wants to punch that faceless alpha. Hopes that Namjoon might already have.
He locks eyes with Yoongi, swallowing nervously before saying, “I mean, maybe we can talk about this again, after tonight…”
Yoongi doesn't think he’s ever had the chance to look at Namjoon really outside of the dark club, and definitely not for this long. But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn't find the man attractive, his soft smile charming. Not breaking his gaze, Yoongi decides to tease, to test these new waters, “And continue our truce? I don’t know, Namjoon-ah. I kind of thought you were a dick.”
That makes Namjoon straight giggle, and Yoongi feels warm. That was so cute.
“I thought you were a dick too,” Namjoon says playfully. “But then you helped me get back to my apartment in the middle of the night, on the cusp of heat and near deadweight--
“That’s another thing,” Yoongi interrupts, worry coming back to him. “Why did you even go out tonight to the club? Your heat’s a few hours away at best. Couldn't you have missed one battle?”
Namjoon visibly clams up, face reddening as he glances to the side, “You’ll think I'm pathetic.”
Yoongi snorts, “Doubtful, but stupid maybe. God, you know how some of those alphas are, Namjoon-ah. What if they would’ve found you instead?” The mere thought of it has Yoongi sick to his stomach.
It's the wrong thing to say. Yoongi can see it in the way Namjoon's face hardens. His jaw clenches as he murmurs lowly, “Thanks, but I don’t need an alpha lecturing me on omega safety.”
Yoongi bristles, but even so, he knows his anger at the comment isn't justified. He’s silent, but after a moment, Yoongi admits, “You’re right.”
It wasn't what Namjoon expected to hear, the omega’s head whipping toward Yoongi, “What?”
“You’re right,” the alpha repeats. “It's not my place, I'm sorry. I was just worried.”
Namjoon looks a little lost, but still he nods, “Thanks.”
He pauses, grins ruefully, “Worried, huh? The big bad Suga really isn't a dick after all.”
“You’re not so bad either, I guess,” Yoongi mumbles, blushing. They lock eyes shyly for a moment before Yoongi clears his throat, shifting in his seat, “So why did you come out then?”
Namjoon grins, a dimple popping out, and oh no, Yoongi’s heart gives a little thump at that.
“How else was I supposed to see you?”
Yoongi’s eyes widen as the words sink in. Namjoon came out... to see him?
“You were the reason I came to that club in the first place,” Namjoon sheepishly admits. “Your reputation holds. Though, I couldn't tell if I hated you because I was jealous or if I admired you because of how good you looked up there. Pushing your buttons with pointed lyrics seemed easier than saying hi at the time, I guess.”
So, Namjoon and him were rivals because... Namjoon was into him? He just thought the ‘alpha’ was a knothead like the rest of them. And here it was, Namjoon just had a crush on him?
It made Yoongi consider his own thoughts on how he felt about Namjoon seriously for the first time. The respect for his work was there, sure, but this intense feeling he chalked up to hate? To envy? Was that… never the case for himself either?
Yoongi licks his lips, and decides fuck it. “And now?”
“Now?”
“How do you feel about me now?”
Namjoon reads him, looking for a trick. Yoongi keeps his expression neutral, praying he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. The ball is in Namjoon’s court now.
And there’s a heat in the omega’s eyes when he says lowly, “It’s definitely not hatred.”
“No?” Yoongi feels the arousal pool in his abdomen, leaning forward into Namjoon’s space, the omega mirroring him.
“What about you?” Namjoon asks, placing a hand on Yoongi's thigh, right above his knee. “How do you feel, alpha ?”
Yoongi isn't able to control the way his scent spikes at that, and he can see the way it affects Namjoon. The omega shivers, hand clenching slightly on Yoongi’s leg. He’s a little vulnerable when he asks, “I'm not reading this wrong, am I? You feel it too?”
Yoongi swallows, nodding.
“It could just be my heat, you know.”
A shake of the alpha’s head. He knows it's not. Still, “Are you sure, Namjoon-ah? We don’t have to do this right now. We can talk about things after your heat if you--”
Namjoon groans, throwing his head back with a smile, “Do you have to be such an upstanding alpha? I’m coherent, I consent, we can talk like normal adults later. Right now? I’m stupid horny, and your pheromones are making my heat brain worse. So I say we fuck now and talk later, yeah?
Yoongi feels hot in his skin at the reminder of how close the omega in front of him is to heat, all flushed skin and aroused scent he’s been trying to politely ignore-- that is, until Namjoon mentioned it again. “If you’re sure, I want to-- like, really fucking want to-- I just don’t want you to regret anything…” He trails off as Namjoon sits up, moving to position himself in Yoongi's lap.
Namjoon looks down at him hungrily, arms coming up to play at the hairs on Yoongi’s nape, “Mm, that’s up to you, Suga. Am I going to regret having sex with someone who likes to boast about their tongue technology?”
Yoongi is about to retort, but Namjoon positions his weight so that he’s pressing his ass fully against Yoongi’s cock, and hey, he’s hard? When did that happen?
Reflexively his hands go to Namjoon’s hips, gripping him tightly, unable to decide whether to hold the omega still or pull him down harder into his lap. It makes Namjoon sigh contently.
“Don’t you want to fuck me, Yoongi?” Namjoon asks in a sultry tone, eyes hooded as he slowly grinds against Yoongi’s cock through his jeans. The alpha can’t completely tamp down the growl he bites out.
Quickly, he pulls Namjoon, crashing their lips together, teeth clacking. Despite that, the next move of lips is more synced, the omega moaning into it. It’s hungry, the way they devour each other. Yoongi loses his grip on his patience fairly quickly, licking his way into Namjoon’s mouth, sliding his tongue along Namjoon’s wetly. It has the omega mewling every time, Yoongi dominating the kiss until both their lips are sore, and all too soon for the alpha’s liking, Namjoon pulls away slightly, a string of saliva connecting them that breaks when the omega pants.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon starts. “I need… Can we-- my room?”
Yoongi doesn't break his gaze, nodding dumbly.
Namjoon blushes again, mumbling, “Um, my legs are still a little… you know.”
Yoongi chuckles, giving him a final, quick peck before grabbing onto the back of Namjoons thighs, getting a solid grip as he stands. The omega yelps, surprised, wrapping his limbs around Yoongi in a vice grip in fear of being dropped. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but to himself he thinks about how Namjoon resembles a koala.
Yoongi doesn't break a sweat carrying the omega though, alpha strength helping him more in this moment than it ever has in his entire life. Their size difference is pretty noticeable, yet to Yoongi, Namjoon weighs nothing.
And when Namjoon realizes Yoongi's not about to send him to the floor, he groans in appreciation. “You have no right being this hot right now.”
Just then, he catches the scent of omega slick, the jasmine notes clouding Yoongi's senses, and normally, he’d fight those instincts, try to stay rational. Instead, he decides to just relax into it, letting the arousal flow through him. He lets his mind clear; he and Namjoon can figure things out later, he hopes.
Namjoon relaxes into the alpha’s hold, nosing Yoongi's throat as he murmurs which door leads to his room. The omega opens the door with his free hand when they reach it, and Yoongi pushes them inside.
He gently rests Namjoon on his bed next to a… giant Ryan plushie? He leans back and takes in the surroundings of the room. There’s more plants near the window, tiny little bearlike figures lining the shelves near the bed, and about two dozen little stuffed Ryan plushies scattered about the rest of the space and the bed. He’s sure his face might not show it, but if he had to describe how he felt in that moment, he’d say hopelessly endeared.
At least he knows now Namjoon will be easy to shop for.
He must take too long gawking at his surroundings, because the omega clears his throat, and he’s pouting, and god, that's so cute .
“Is there a problem?”
Yoongi chuckles, gives him a kiss, “No, it suits you, I think. I… really like this side of you.”
Namjoon shrugs, “This is me. I’m not all dark clubs and angry words all the time, you know?”
And yeah, Yoongi does know, and he doesn’t feel like he needs to say that to the omega.
It's here, Namjoon laid in his messy sheets, that Yoongi feels his first wave of nerves. He went into this night thinking he was going to get to the club, perform, throw some jabs at RM, then wait all week to do it all over again. But instead he’s here, Namjoon splayed out in his bed for him, cock tenting his jeans, and Yoongi just needs to let it all sink in.
He crawls over Namjoon, straddling his waist, caging him in with hands near his head. The omega just relaxes back, hands instinctively going to Yoongi's chest, and his palms are hot through the fabric.
“So,” Yoongi wets his lips nervously, “How do you want to do this?”
Namjoon’s brows crease as he smiles, “What do you mean?”
Embarrassed, Yoongi’s able to murmur out, “Well, like, top or bottom?”
That has Namjoon’s eyebrows shooting up, incredulous, “You’d bottom? Even though I'm in heat?”
Yoongi shrugs, “I'm flexible with this stuff. I like to switch. Whatever you like.”
Namjoon’s eyes are wide as he whispers, reverent, “God, how are you real?”
The alpha flusters, struggling to reply to that. He knows a lot of alphas have a thing against bottoming, but Yoongi loves the feeling of being full, loves the way his instincts are at war whenever something slides into him.
But just because he loves it doesn’t mean he wants to say it .
Thankfully, Namjoon saves him from having to, “Honestly, I actually prefer topping. But it doesn't exactly cut it for a heat for me.”
Yoongi nods, sitting up to shrug off his jacket, “I can top then.”
Namjoon grins, “Outside of the heat though, I think you and I could have some real fun.”
Arousal spikes in the alpha at the insinuation, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon, the omega’s pupils dilating, “You like that.” It’s not a question.
A nod from Yoongi, a shy smile. He didn’t miss the other implication either. The reassurance that this isn't a one time thing has Yoongi relaxing, “I’m sure we’ll be great together.”
For a second, the moment is soft, sweet shy smiles shared between them at the prospect of this becoming something good, something big. It doesn’t last for long. Namjoon’s heat is creeping ever closer, his scent becoming thick and syrupy, a mix of agitation and arousal.
Yoongi leans forward to kiss him again, at first chaste, but all too soon there’s the wet drag of their tongues again. Before they get too lost in each other again, Yoongi pulls back, only pausing to pull his shirt off. Namjoon’s hands slide down his chest appreciatively before he does the same.
The flush of Namjoon’s skin travels to his chest, and he writhes a little as the heat starts to make him physically uncomfortable.
“I'm a little closer than I thought,” Namjoon admits, and Yoongi can tell. It’s apparent in the way he's panting, how his eyes are beginning to glaze over.
How his scent has gotten stronger, sweeter. Intoxicating.
Yoongi breathes it in slowly, keeping himself still as he checks, “Is this still okay?”
Namjoon nods slowly, almost desperate as he whispers out, “Please don't go.” He says it, like Yoongi could possibly think to after that, after his words taper into a needy whine.
Yoongi shushes him, “Hey, hey, I'm here. Just say if it's too much, okay? I’ll stop.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, and they’re kissing again, heavier, the omega whimpering into it every meeting of their lips. It turns to a groan when Yoongi kisses along his jaw, his throat, before he palms Namjoon through his jeans.
It’s a tease, the fabric thick, and after a minute, Namjoon is wriggling, trying to reach down and undo his belt. “Off. Off.” he paws uncoordinatedly at Yoongi's pants after undoing the button on his own pair, “You too.”
Yoongi obliges, shedding off both of their jeans and, after a check with Namjoon and a jerky nod, their boxers too.
Without the layers of clothing, the omega’s scent is nothing short of enticing. Yoongi can feel it filling his senses, groaning as he takes in the pheromones. That, mixed with the visual of Namjoon’s tan, firm skin spread out below him almost has him popping his knot on the spot. His own pale hands caressing his bare sides is so striking, and he can't help but to pause and admire.
He needs to stop getting distracted. Namjoon is getting restless, writhing under Yoongi’s palms as the heat catches up to him. “Yoongi, I need…”
“Sorry, Joon-ah,” Yoongi's hands slide down to Namjoon's thighs with purpose, spreading and making room for himself between them.
The omega surprises him and reaches out to the alpha’s cock immediately, giving him some firm but dry tugs as he stares hungrily, “Big.”
Yoongi gives an appreciative sigh at the relief on his cock, and takes another short moment to commit the visual of Namjoon’s (admittedly large) cock laying hard against his stomach to memory. He engrains the sight of his slick, so excessive it coats his thighs up to his hole to his mental porn reserves. Lord knows it’ll be jerk off fodder for months to come.
He doesn't know what compels him to do it, but before he can stop himself, the alpha leans forward, licking the head of the omega’s cock to get a taste of the precum beading there. Yoongi feels it as Namjoon twitches against his tongue, as Namjoon moans appreciatively, so he takes it as a green light, suckling lightly at the head.
He moves down, open mouth kisses on the shaft, on Namjoon’s balls, and further down still, to where the slick coats his perineum, until finally, he’s licking a broad stripe over his hole.
It tears a groan out of Namjoon, shocked at the feeling of the alpha’s tongue teasing him. Yoongi indulges himself for a minute, lazily licking into Namjoon, tasting the slick straight from the source, greedily sucking on the rim when a fresh wave is produced.
“Alpha, please,” a whine so helpless Yoongi would be cruel to ignore it.
Yoongi breaks away with a groan, replacing his mouth with a finger, not hesitating to slide it fully inside. The omega is wet and loose, clenching around the digit. “Let me open you a little first, okay?”
Namjoon nods, “Y-Yeah, just no more teasing okay? It's kind of starting to hurt.”
Yoongi doesn't doubt that. There's a crease in Namjoon’s brow, his face is sweaty, rivlets of it running down his face. Yoongi follows a bead of sweat as it rolls down the omega’s temple, to his jaw, down over his scent gland, free from marks--
“I'll be quick,” Yoongi promises, already pressing a second finger into Namjoon’s wet heat. He takes it easily, body pliant, and soon after, Yoongi adds a third, spreading them as Namjoon sighs out.
Yoongi continues until it seems like Namjoon is getting close and deems him ready enough. “You wanna stay like this?” he asks softly, smoothing his hands up and down Namjoon’s thighs and hips.
The omega pauses to think, before asking, “Can I… hands and knees?”
A flash visual of Namjoon like that, hands and knees, presented-
Yoongi groans, “Fuck, of course.” He backs up, giving the omega room to flip over. Shakily, Namjoon props himself up, ass on display for Yoongi and, yeah, his imagination didn’t do the reality justice. Namjoon’s hole is red and puffy from the fingering, glistening in the low light of the room, and Yoongi feels his control slipping.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, reaching out to slap Namjoon’s ass without thought, envoking a little whimper from the omega. Yoongi freezes when he realizes his action, hand still on Namjoon’s ass as he stutters out, “S-Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.”
Namjoon just blushes, turning his head as he shyly admits, “I, uh, actually kinda like that stuff.”
Yoongi short circuits. Dear god, Namjoon is a gift. And a menace to his horny brain.
RM was a pain in his neck, always pushing his buttons. He can tell that Namjoon is going to be a pain in other ways, pushing his buttons in a way that he’s less inclined to complain about.
“Yeah?”
The omega nods, but then seems to think on it, “Maybe not too hard right now though.”
The alpha couldn’t agree more, stroking a hand down Namjoon’s spine as he murmurs, “I think we’ve wasted enough time being hard on each other.”
Yoongi does give him another spank, but not as hard, more loud than anything, the slap echoing in the room. Namjoon utters another little moan, and Yoongi repeats the motion a few more times, if only to hear it again and again.
“Another thing to talk about?” Yoongi asks after noting the way Namjoon’s cock is visibly leaking precum into the sheets.
Namjoon nods, breathing heavily, “Later.”
“Later,” Yoongi agrees, pumping himself a few times loosely, just to relieve some of the pressure of his neglected cock. His patience, as well as the omega’s, is long gone by this point though, and before Namjoon has to beg again, Yoongi slides his cock along Namjoon’s hole, wetting himself in the slick. The omega presses back against him, a miming of fucking himself back on Yoongi’s cock. Admittedly, Yoongi feels like he’s gonna go insane, worried he’s gonna pop his knot before even getting inside Namjoon.
He stills Namjoon, pressing his head against his wet hole before slowly pressing inside. Yoongi thinks he’s going at a nice, steady pace, sliding along Namjoon’s walls carefully, but it seems the omega disagrees.
“Too slow,” Namjoon grunt in frustration when Yoongi’s about halfway in. Namjoon slams his ass back to take it all, shocking Yoongi. It makes the alpha bite out a growl in surprise, tightening his grip reflexively. The feral sound of it and Yoongi’s strong hands holding him in place has Namjoon moaning, face falling to press against the sheets.
“I won’t break, just please fuck me already.”
A brat. Namjoon is a brat. At least in heat anyway.
So Yoongi gives it to him, hard, un-slowing as he plows the omega into the mattress. It’s a weird juxtaposition-- the harsh thrusts, the slapping of skin, the wet squelching-- it’s all in opposition to the way Yoongi leans over Namjoon’s body, open mouth kisses on his nape, sweet, praising words whispered into Namjoon’s ear.
He can tell the omega loves it, the slide getting slicker and slicker with every sweet nothing, every promise.
Yoongi can see it easily when Namjoon’s close, the omega’s moans turning more into hiccups and nonsensical words. Even so, Namjoon is still able to make a request, turning his head to look at Yoongi with a tear tracked expression, “Wanna see you, please, wanna see alpha.”
Growling, Yoongi pulls out, and the omega lets out a distressed cry. Quickly though, the alpha flips Namjoon onto his back like he weighs nothing, sliding back in to the hilt. His thrusts take on a punishing pace, the sole purpose to make them both finish, and all too soon it has them both hurtling toward the edge.
Yoongi takes in the omega’s expression, Namjoon all loose and pliant in Yoongi’s hold, trusting the alpha to get them there, to give him what he needs. The omega looks downright desperate for it, and Yoongi is once again struck by how he never expected to see RM like this. Even so, Yoongi wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than here, at this moment, with this man.
Yoongi leans down, and they try to kiss, but it's more like they’re just panting into each other's mouth, tongues lazily touching. It's perfect in his opinion, hot, and Yoongi’s hit with the realization he’s not gonna last much longer.
As he feels his knot beginning to swell, Yoongi reaches down between their bodies, taking Namjoon’s cock in his hand firmly, “Come on. You gotta come with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”
Namjoon bobs his head desperately, and it only takes a dozen jerks before the omega is coming into his hand with a broken cry. Yoongi follows close behind with a groan, Namjoon clenching around him, milking his cock and making his knot swell and lock.
And when he feels the alpha begin to fill him with cum, Namjoon gives a sated whine.
They try to catch their breaths, but eventually, the strength drains out of Yoongi as collapses onto Namjoon’s broad chest, knocking a little “oof” out of the omega. Yoongi chuckles, and Namjoon joins him, wrapping his arms around Yoongi as they let the orgasms course through their systems.
Once they've settled into a comfortable embrace, a peaceful silence comes over them, the kind that doesn't feel like it needs words to fill it. It just is, and Namjoon and Yoongi can just be.
The knot deflates after some time, and Yoongi's soft cock slides out of him. The alpha flops onto the bed, body spent, but still plastered sweaty to Namjoon’s side. He likes to cuddle, so what if they’re gross? He knows they’ll have to get up and clean before his cum starts leaking out of Namjoon, but Namjoon hasn’t protested about it yet, and Yoongi’s always been one to really milk a sex afterglow.
“Hey, Yoongi?”
“Hmm?” The alpha hums, eyes closed, near the cusp of dozing off.
“Did your set go well?”
Yoongi smiles, head turning to Namjoon, “It was okay.”
Namjoon returns the smile, speaks softly, “Yeah?”
Yoongi leans in for a slow soft kiss before murmuring, “The omega before me was way better.”
To that, Namjoon gives a cheeky grin, dimple on display. That stupid, cute as fuck dimple.
“Damn right.”
Their eyes close, the room silent again, peaceful, comforting.
“Hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“...Spend the rest of my heat with me?”
Yoongi smiles, almost laughs. It’s silly to him. He wants to stay by Namjoon’s side, watch him grow as an artist, watch him change the genre’s stereotypes. He wants to see all that up-close, support his voice anyway he can, anyway Namjoon wants him to.
But he doesn’t say all that. Instead, “Of course.”
It may be new waters, but Yoongi can’t wait to swim.