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Yoongi is going to get the perfect night of sleep. Decades of insomnia be damned! He’s done his research and resolved to follow all of the steps toward achieving optimal sleep hygiene. Unfortunately there’s no accounting for acts of god—that god being Kim Seokjin.
Leading sleep scientists recommend not eating within a few hours of bedtime and avoiding caffeine and alcohol. Yoongi can see the logic in that. But Seokjin had been very persuasive and very naked behind a frilly pink apron when he’d surprised Yoongi with a late night snack and a bottle of wine.
That’s another thing: bedtime. Consistency is key when resetting the body’s sleep-wake cycle. Going to bed around the same time every night and aiming for seven to eight hours of sleep. Maybe that works for some people, but Yoongi’s princess hardly turns into a pumpkin at midnight. It’s all too easy to lose track of time while Seokjin is nearby. They don’t even need to be interacting directly. The time they spend doing their own things in the same room can be particularly sneaky, hours disappearing without a trace.
The biggest problem is his sleep environment. Experts agree that the room should be cool, dark, and free of distractions. It’s best if one never eats, works, studies, or spends extensive time there except to sleep. Yoongi is convinced these scientists are all traditionalist alphas who think they don’t have a nesting instinct.
Their nest room is their favorite place in the house. Seokjin chose every element himself with minor input from Yoongi (who always says yes to his mate eventually). The walls are painted shell pink and layers of sheer window curtains provide privacy while filtering the light through different shades of pink and peach. The room glows like a flower in the sun, like a pink moon, like a cloudscape. All their artificial light is soft and warm and comes from lamps that look like flowers, hearts, swans, jewels.
The nest itself is a layer cake of blankets and pillows. The top layer—the frosting, as Yoongi thinks of it—is a pink sateen comforter with scalloped edges piped in strawberry red. Each tuft in the blanket cradles a tiny strawberry made of beaded fabric. Beneath that is a sheet to protect the comforter, then a thin quilted down blanket for warmth, a prettier lace-edged knit blanket to disguise the pink but uninspired down blanket, and so on. Every part of it is infused with Seokjin’s rose scent and Yoongi’s subtler sandalwood.
It’s the perfect environment for the omega, who falls asleep like a fairy tale princess. He always wears pajamas, always a matching set. When he wants to sleep he carefully folds back the covers, lies down, and tucks himself in. He doesn’t toss and turn, just rests his silky haired head on the pillows and goes to sleep. Yoongi envies it more than Seokjin’s height or handsomeness or emotional stability.
Yoongi is a fitful sleeper when he can sleep at all. He struggles not to tangle up the many, many layers of the nest while he shifts from side to stomach to back and over again. He’s always snaking a limb or two out from under the covers to try and cool down. Sleeps naked to compensate, but usually wakes up sweaty anyway. Sometimes it feels like the nest is trying to gently smother him. Despite that, he loves it and never wants to leave.
Yoongi’s perfect night of sleep is mostly elapsed already. It’s sometime after 5 am and they’re lying awake. They’d been tipsy and full and too immersed in Seokjin’s hours long boss battle to notice it getting late. Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to sleep through the shouting, anyway, and someone had to fetch Seokjin’s snacks and water.
But it isn’t as if they need to get up early. If he can manage to bury himself in deep enough sleep before the sun rises he might get five or six hours.
“Yoongichi, are you awake?”
He groans.
“No.”
“Aha, I thought so! Come over here and fuck me.”
“No,” he whines. “I’m sleeping.”
Seokjin huffs. “You’re never sleeping, Yoongichi. It’s part of your charm.”
“I would be sleeping if I weren’t being eaten alive by cake,” he grumbles. With winter on the way Seokjin has added a heated mattress pad to the nest. Yoongi has surreptitiously checked his back for grill marks a few times. “Cooked alive.”
“Cakes are baked, not cooked,” Seokjin points out. “You’ll feel better once you’ve fucked me.”
“I’ll be sweaty and you know it.”
“So take a shower before you go to sleep.”
Yoongi turns his head into the pillow and groans. “Why don’t you fuck me if you’re so full of energy?”
“What was that? You’re eating the pillow and I can’t understand you. They’re not really made of cake, you know.”
He lifts his head slightly. “I said you should fuck me. Do whatever you want, I’ll just rest my eyes.”
Seokjin’s pout is obvious in his voice. “Yoongichi, who’s princess?”
“You,” he sighs. “I’m too tired to move. Have mercy.”
“Yah!” Seokjin splutters. “Is that any way to treat your precious mate? If you wanted to rest you should’ve stayed single and miserable and alone! After everything I do for you! The beauty I bring to your life with my shining presence! I still turn down proposals every day, you know! I could’ve had any number of mates. I could’ve had an entire pack of alphas dedicated to serving my every need and whim, worshipped like a goddess!”
“Go on, then,” Yoongi deadpans. He’d fight a hundred alphas or more to keep Seokjin where he belongs but that doesn’t mean he’ll give up an opportunity to provoke him.
“I’m calling your mother right now,” Seokjin hisses. “I’m telling her what you’ve done!”
If the threat were real it would be a terrifying one. As it is, Yoongi just yawns. “Tell her I said hi.”
“Min Yoongi!”
“What, you don’t like touching me anymore?”
“Of course I do! But I got my nails done today. They’re very sharp this time, you know. I can’t risk stabbing you anywhere important.”
“Use your mouth then,” he counters. “Or is it only good for complaining?”
“What do you take me for, some kind of ruffian? I’ve already done my skincare routine, I don’t need your mess all over my face.”
“No? Maybe I should be the one looking for another mate. Jiminie and Taehyungie said their offer is still on the table. Said I could be on the table, too. Anywhere I like and they’ll take care of everything.”
“So why do you hide from them when they talk like that?” Seokjin says acidly. “If you’re so eager to be their little toy?”
“There’s this long legged omega goddess I have my eye on.”
“If you mention Kim Namjoon I’m going to smother you—”
“Is that a promise? Dying with my tongue inside you is one of my top five ways to go.”
Seokjin squeaks. “Well,” he says. He’s breathless and clearly flustered but he keeps trying to come up with something to say. “Well— Well, the least you could do is touch me one more time before you die. You won’t need sleep then, anyway.”
“Ah, so you don’t care if I live or die, hm? My heart is broken. I can’t carry on in these conditions.”
“You know what I mean,” Seokjin whines. “I’m so wet. You should feel.”
Yoongi laughs softly. “Yeah, I bet you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You love arguing with me,” Yoongi says. Sleepiness is making his voice raspy and he knows what it does to his mate. “In fact, I’ve heard you can come just from listening to me talk.”
“That’s a complete falsehood,” Seokjin says too quickly. “An outright lie. Who would tell you that?”
“All of our friends.”
“You can’t trust a word out of their snakey little mouths.”
“No? Then were they also lying when they said you’re obsessed with my hands?”
“Why would I be obsessed with your hands? They’re all callused. It’s like you’ve never even heard of moisturizer!”
“I do moisturize.”
“Clearly you don’t use a good enough one! I’ll give you some recommendations.”
“I’m not using your ridiculously overpriced lotion to fix something that isn’t even a problem.”
“Excuse you,” Seokjin huffs, but he doesn’t protest further.
Yoongi smiles to himself. He always knows he’s getting somewhere when he manages to off balance Seokjin. “I’ve heard you love how rough my hands are. Love the way they feel on your sensitive thighs. How even when I’m so gentle with you it still feels a little like punishment. Keeps you right on the edge.”
Seokjin’s breath shudders. “Don’t. If you’re not going to touch me then don’t—”
“They say you like how big my hands are. Hm. What else have I heard? Pink knuckles, that’s right. Pink like your favorite color. And veiny. Drives you wild just looking at them. Makes you think all kinds of filthy thoughts. And you’ll be able to see them so much better if you wait until daytime. After we’ve slept.”
“This is so fucking unfair.”
“Don’t want to wait? Go ahead, baby, take my hand. Do what you want. Fuck yourself on my fingers like they’re your favorite toy. I need my beauty rest.”
Seokjin makes a strangled noise and finally gives in. He pulls himself across the distance between them and straddles Yoongi’s leg. “Fuck you,” he hisses into Yoongi’s neck. Then he noses against Yoongi’s scent gland and inhales deeply.
Yoongi grabs his hips and guides them while Seokjin helplessly ruts against his naked thigh. “Shit, you are wet,” he gasps. “Soaked right through your pants.”
“Don’t stop talking,” Seokjin pants. “Or, fuck, I’ll kill you.”
He gathers the fabric at the back of Seokjin’s pants, pulling them taut. Seokjin keens at the extra pressure that’s splitting him from pussy to crack. His slick runs in earnest and soon they’re both soaked in it. Yoongi slips a hand into his panties and teases his rim with one finger. “Too rough, baby?”
Seokjin sucks hard on his neck rather than answering. Yoongi’s cock twitches. He rubs against Seokjin without thinking. He is tired, but that just makes it feel better. The fabric of his pajamas is soft enough under his hands but it’s torturous against his sensitive cock, his own swollen pussy.
“Why do you wear so much to bed,” Yoongi demands. “Buttons and shit.”
Even with his frantic search for friction Seokjin still has presence of mind to growl, “Don’t you dare rip my shirt Min Yoongi!”
“Well don’t help or anything,” Yoongi grumbles, but he’s already busy tugging the stupid pajama shirt up Seokjin’s back. He won’t be able to get it over his broad shoulders without figuring out the buttons but at least he can free Seokjin’s breasts. Probably.
Seokjin saves him the trouble and undoes the top few buttons himself. Between their efforts his soft breasts spill against Yoongi’s flatter chest. They gasp at the contact.
“Need to feel you.” Yoongi paws at Seokjin’s waistband, doing what he can to push the fabric down his hips. “Need your pretty petals on me.”
It takes a lot of wiggling and whining but they get his pants down to his knees and that’s enough. Yoongi tugs him close and carefully parts his slick lips enough to press his cockhead inside.
“Am I good? Still worth it?” Seokjin asks. It’s softer, vulnerable. Their bickering is the best foreplay but here in the soft heat of their bodies secrets work themselves free.
“You’re my perfect princess,” Yoongi says, low and heated. “My fairy tale rose. Mate of my dreams.” He kisses Seokjin’s petal soft lips and rocks their hips together deep and slow. He presses one hand against Seokjin’s scent gland and sucks marks into his skin on the other side. They’ll bloom over the coming days, a garden of reminders how much he’s desired.
“More,” Seokjin sighs.
“Flip over.”
He settles back into the pillows, sandalwood and the tangerine of Yoongi’s soap enveloping him. He lies there as pliant as a sleeper but far more rumpled than he ever looks in that state. Yoongi undresses him the rest of the way and settles between his legs.
If he can’t sleep, he’ll find his rest here. Lose himself in the humid warmth of Seokjin’s skin. He kisses and sucks the omega’s perfect breasts until he’s whining from sensitivity. That’s his cue to be even rougher, teasing his nipples with the edge of his teeth and rolling them between his fingertips.
Rose nectar wells up from his pussy like a wellspring, like the water of life itself. Yoongi fucks it out of him with his fingers. He’s entranced by the scent, the endless repetition, the music of Seokjin’s mewling cries.
When he can’t wait any longer, he kisses his way down Seokjin’s torso. Licks the rose-perfumed sweat from his hitching chest and stomach. Loses his head in the luxury of it.
Seokjin’s pussy is sweet and addictive as candy. At the source the rose scent is so strong, bright and jammy like sun-soaked fruit. Creamy as vanilla. Yoongi laps greedily at his petals, holding him open with his hands even as he bucks up. He sucks Seokjin’s pretty little rosebud clit until the omega comes all over his face. And he drinks that up too, his only purpose in life.
“Please,” Seokjin rasps, “Please fuck me.”
Yoongi does as he’s asked. Seokjin doesn’t even complain about the mess Yoongi makes of kissing him with his face still covered in slick. He just wraps his long, shaking legs around Yoongi and holds on tight.
“So good for me,” Yoongi croons. The sun is rising outside. The light is still pale, but it’s enough to tint the room and everything in it a warm rose. “Look at you, so perfectly ruined.”
Tears sparkle on Seokjin’s blushing cheeks like dew. Overstimulated but still so desperate to be taken apart. He cries out so prettily while Yoongi fucks him through another orgasm.
“Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He rests for a moment. It’s so comfortable, burning alive under the weight of blankets and the press of skin. Enclosed in his perfect rosy lover. “I think you said something about sharp nails.”
“I did.” Seokjin traces his perfectly almond shaped nails up Yoongi’s back. He shudders in ecstasy. “Do you like my thorns?”
“I like all of you.”
“Ew.” Seokjin beams up at him in the growing light. “Sleep is overrated, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Still, what would you do without me?”
Yoongi bites Seokjin’s lip. Just enough to make it bloom a brighter shade. “Thorn in my side. Love you.”
“Love you. Sap.”