Chapter Text
Jeongguk had never been the kind of alpha who dated just for fun.
Some alphas saw dating as a casual thing, a pastime before they finally settled down. But for him, it had always been different. From the moment he understood what mating meant, he decided it wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Mating, to Jeongguk, was sacred. It was a promise of a lifetime, a bond so deep that it wasn’t worth risking uncertainty or fleeting attraction. If he was going to date, it would only be with the omega he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
That was the reason why, despite being young and very much in his prime, Jeongguk had never dated anyone. It wasn’t because he couldn’t. Plenty of omegas and betas had shown interest in him over the years. It was simply that he couldn’t find anyone he wanted. Well… that wasn’t entirely true.
He just couldn’t find anyone other than Park Jimin.
Jimin, the most beautiful omega in their pack. The kind of beauty that wasn’t just about looks but about the way his presence seemed to light up any space he walked into. His skin was soft and pale like fresh milk, smooth as if the sun had never dared to be unkind to him. His cheeks carried a natural pink flush, as if he’d been caught in a perpetual state of shyness. His lips were full and plump, the kind of lips Jeongguk often caught himself staring at and then immediately looking away from before anyone noticed. His hair was always perfect, whether it was styled neatly or falling messily across his forehead, framing his face in a way that made him look like he’d just stepped out of some painting.
And his scent… his scent was what undid Jeongguk every single time. Ripe peaches and bergamot—sweet and citrusy, delicate yet fresh. It lingered in the air long after Jimin passed by, and Jeongguk swore it had the power to soothe him and drive him absolutely insane all at once.
They had been in the same friend group for as long as Jeongguk could remember. Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jeongguk, and of course, Jimin. They’d grown up together, shared countless summers and winters, birthdays and festivals. Somewhere along the way, Jeongguk’s fondness for Jimin had changed from friendship into something deeper.
All his hyungs knew about it. They had known long before Jeongguk ever dared to admit it to himself.
The teasing had been nonstop.
“Come on, Guk,” Hoseok had laughed once when they were all sitting at the park, “you’re looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars.”
Namjoon had smirked knowingly. “He’s not wrong. You do have that face.”
Seokjin sighed loudly and said, “Ah, young love… so tragic when it’s one-sided.”
At first, Jeongguk denied it with everything he had. He’d sputter, turn red, and shake his head so furiously he thought it might fall off. He’d tell them they were imagining things, that he and Jimin were just friends, that they didn’t know what they were talking about. But no matter how hard he tried to act unaffected, he failed miserably.
Eventually, he gave up pretending. One day, heart pounding so hard it made his hands shake, Jeongguk told Jimin the truth.
He could still remember it vividly. The nervous stammering, the way his palms sweated, how he couldn’t look anywhere but at the ground while he confessed.
And he remembered even more vividly how much it hurt when Jimin gave him a smile and said, “I’m sorry, Jeonggukie… I don’t want to date anyone.”
Jeongguk had tried to nod like it was fine, like he understood, but the moment he was alone with his hyungs, the tears had come. Not just a few tears, but full-on, loud, embarrassing crying.
Namjoon had rubbed his back while Hoseok offered him snacks as bribes to calm him down. Yoongi had even patted his head, while Taehyung rubbed his back. Seokjin had threatened to start singing loudly in public if Jeongguk didn’t stop wailing.
It had taken hours, and an entire carton of banana milk, before Jeongguk finally stopped hiccuping from the sobs.
But true to his words, Jimin really didn’t date anyone, and so Jeongguk decided he would wait. He wouldn’t push too hard, wouldn’t smother him. Instead, he would just… be there. Always.
And he was, in ways that weren’t overbearing but still made it clear how much he cared.
Like that one summer evening when Jimin had been walking back from the berry groves with a woven basket hooked over his arm. The path was uneven after recent rain, and the basket was heavy with wild blackberries he’d gathered for the communal kitchen.
At some point, the strap of the basket loosened and snapped, sending the contents tumbling across the dirt path.
He was crouched down, trying to salvage the fruit before the damp earth ruined it.
“Need help?”
Jimin glanced over his shoulder. “Guk? What are you doing here?”
“Hunter patrol was passing nearby,” Jeongguk replied, already kneeling to help him pick up the scattered fruit. “One of the scouts told me you were struggling with a broken strap. Figured I could help carry it back.”
The truth was, Jeongguk had been at the far edge of the territory setting traps, but the moment he heard from a passing omega that Jimin was carrying a huge basket, he’d taken the fastest route back.
Jimin gave him a curious look. “You always just… happen to be close, don’t you?”
Jeongguk’s mouth twitched into a smile as he lifted the basket with ease. “What can I say? I’m lucky that way.”
In the heart of winter, when frost coated the branches and the river was frozen in a glassy sheet, Jimin had murmured one evening by the fire pit that he wished for spiced rice cakes like the elders sometimes made during the colder moons. It had been an offhand thought, half to himself, but Jeongguk heard it.
The very next evening, Jeongguk appeared at Jimin’s doorway carrying a covered wooden bowl, steam curling from beneath the lid.
Jimin blinked, tugging his thick shawl tighter. “What’s this?”
“You said you wanted rice cakes,” Jeongguk said simply, handing it to him. “Still warm. Eat before it cools.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes slightly. “You went all the way to the elders’ cooking hut for this, didn’t you?”
Jeongguk shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not that far.” (It was. Especially in snow that reached his calves.)
When early spring rains swept the forest and left the air damp and chilly, Jimin caught a cold. He stayed curled under his furs, too tired to join the others for meals. By midday, there was a knock at his door, and when he answered, Jeongguk stood there with a steaming clay pot and a small bundle of herbs wrapped in linen.
“The healer said this broth will help,” Jeongguk explained, stepping inside without hesitation.
Jimin, voice hoarse, arched his brow. “Really? The healer sent you?”
“Of course,” Jeongguk said, placing the pot on the low table. In truth, the healer had only mentioned in passing that Jimin went to the healing hut because he wasn’t feeling well, but Jeongguk had taken that as a personal summons.
Jimin smiled faintly despite his drowsiness. “You could just say you wanted to see me, you know.”
Jeongguk hesitated, ears turning red under his hair. “I—Eat.”
It wasn’t easy staying just a friend. Especially not when so many people liked Jimin. He was the omega everyone wanted to court. Every harmless interaction Jimin had with another alpha made Jeongguk’s alpha want to claw out of his chest. He tried so hard not to show it, not to be that jealous, possessive type, but sometimes it was impossible.
The breaking point came when an alpha from another group got a little too close to Jimin.
Jeongguk had been across the field, but he could see Jimin’s polite but uncomfortable smile. He could see the way the alpha’s hand brushed Jimin’s arm in a way that wasn’t welcome.
Before he knew it, Jeongguk was already moving.
The punch landed before anyone had the chance to pull him back. A scuffle broke out, voices rising, other wolves rushing to separate them.
By the time it ended, Jeongguk’s lip was split and his knuckles were sore.
Jimin had been immediately at his side, worry written all over his face. “Jeongguk, are you okay? You’re bleeding!”
Jeongguk shook his head quickly, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t stop myself when he was—” He swallowed, looking down at his bruised hand. “When he was being like that with you. I know I shouldn’t have just hit him, but—”
Jimin cut him off with a soft laugh. “It’s fine, Guk. Really. What’s important is that you won.”
Jeongguk blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… not the point.”
But before he could say more, Jimin leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to his lips. It was light and sweet, gone before Jeongguk could even process it, but his entire body reacted. His stomach flipped, and he was pretty sure all his internal organs had just throbbed in unison.
Jimin smiled at him like nothing had just happened. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Jeongguk, still stunned, could only follow.
Jeongguk didn’t sleep that night.
Not because he was restless, or because the summer air in the forest was too warm, or even because the crickets outside his hut refused to quiet down. It was because every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again.
The kiss.
It played over and over in his mind, looping like some blissful punishment. The way Jimin’s lashes had fluttered. The soft, hesitant press of his mouth. It wasn’t even long, but it had been enough to turn Jeongguk’s entire body into a live wire.
He’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, shifting from his back to his side, then back again, pressing the heel of his palm to his face as if that could push the memory away. It didn’t. Every detail clung stubbornly. The sweetness of Jimin’s scent that seemed stronger, the tiny sound he’d made when they parted, the way his gaze lingered like he wasn’t ready to let go.
By morning, Jeongguk decided the only logical thing to do was to act normal. As if his entire world hadn’t changed overnight. As if he hadn’t memorized the shape of Jimin’s lips like a fool.
He greeted the others at the morning gathering with the same nod he always gave, kept his voice steady when speaking to the elders, and even pretended not to notice when Jimin arrived, hair still damp from washing, sunlight catching on the tips.
But then Jimin smiled at him. It was soft, small, and almost shy, and Jeongguk forgot how to breathe.
Since that kiss, something between them changed. It wasn’t sudden, not like lightning striking or a tree falling without warning. It was gradual. Like the way spring crept into the forest, until one day you woke up and the air smelled sweeter and the flowers had started blooming.
Jeongguk found himself seeking Jimin out more often, whether it was to share a freshly hunted meal or to walk with him through the secluded parts of the woods. Jimin didn’t push him away. In fact, little by little, he let Jeongguk in, listening when he spoke, laughing at his jokes, even teasing him back sometimes. Eventually, as they sat beneath a pine tree with the golden light catching in Jimin’s hair, Jeongguk had asked if he could court him properly.
Jimin smiled, and said yes.
From that moment on, Jeongguk felt like the luckiest alpha alive. The way Jimin looked at him, the way he let him carry things for him, the way his hand would brush Jeongguk’s arm when they walked was enough to make Jeongguk’s stomach flutter in the best way.
And when they finally became mates, Jeongguk could only think, This is it. This is my forever.
It didn’t take them long to get there. They both believed the same thing: when you know, you know. For Jimin and Jeongguk, there had never been any doubt. They didn’t need months of second-guessing or years of figuring it out. They both understood that they wanted to be in each other’s lives for the rest of their days.
Their friends were the happiest for them. In fact, maybe too happy, judging by how much they enjoyed teasing Jeongguk.
“About time you finally convinced him to mate you,” Taehyung said with a smirk, leaning back against a log, when the whole group had gathered around the fire after a long day one evening.
“Oh, you should’ve seen him back then,” Hoseok added with a laugh. “He was a wreck. Mooning around the forest like some lost pup, sighing whenever Jimin walked by.”
Namjoon grinned as he piled more kindling on the flames. “Don’t forget the time he—”
“Hyung!” Jeongguk’s ears went pink immediately, his voice shooting higher than he meant it to. “You don’t have to tell him—”
But it was too late. Namjoon was already recounting the story, complete with exaggerated hand gestures, about how Jeongguk had once nearly tackled him in excitement because Jimin had smiled at him for a whole three seconds.
Seokjin laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. “Oh, and the crying! Remember the crying?”
Jeongguk covered his face with his hands. “Please stop.”
Jimin blinked, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “You… cried?”
“I—” Jeongguk mumbled into his palms, “maybe. Once. Or twice.”
At this point, their friends were doubling over in laughter.
Jimin shook his head, but there was a softness in his eyes as he leaned toward him. “You didn’t convince me, you know.”
Jeongguk’s hands dropped just enough to see him. “What?”
“I loved you on my own,” Jimin said. “You didn’t need to do anything except be you.”
Before Jeongguk could respond, Jimin leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. It sent a rush of happiness straight through him.
“See?” Jimin whispered against his mouth, smiling. “I chose you. No convincing required.”
Jeongguk could only stare at him, heart thudding hard enough to feel in his fingertips. He’d thought he was the happiest alpha alive before, but in that moment, with Jimin’s words still ringing in his ears and his taste still on his lips, he knew he’d been wrong. This was happiness. This was more than he’d ever dared to hope for.
Their mating ceremony had been perfect. It was intimate, and filled with all the people who had cheered them on through every step of their relationship. The moment Jeongguk’s mark had settled on Jimin’s skin, the alpha had felt an almost dizzying rush of pride and joy. It wasn’t just instinct, it was knowing that Jimin, his beautiful omega, had chosen him.
And Jeongguk had absolutely no intention of being subtle about it.
By the time the feast began, he was practically glued to Jimin’s side, one arm loosely slung around his mate’s waist like it was the most natural place for it to be. Every time someone approached them, especially another alpha, Jeongguk’s posture would shift just slightly, his chest puffing up in the most obvious display of pride.
“Have you met my mate?” Jeongguk said for what had to be the tenth time in less than half an hour, his voice laced with that smugness. He didn’t even wait for an answer before continuing, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at Jimin. “He’s the most beautiful omega in the room. Actually,” his gaze flicked briefly to the group of alphas nearby “make that the most beautiful omega in the entire territory.”
Jimin gave him a patient, slightly amused look, but Jeongguk could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. “Jeongguk…” he murmured in protest, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.
“What? I’m just telling the truth,” Jeongguk replied innocently, leaning down to kiss the crown of Jimin’s head before turning back to their small audience. “Did you know he said yes to me without me having to beg? Well,” his grin widened “not much, anyway.”
Later in the evening, as the music picked up and more guests milled about, Jeongguk spotted some alphas he distinctly remembered seeing around Jimin before, back in those days when they hadn’t been together yet, and Jeongguk had gone crazy with jealousy.
Without a second thought, he took Jimin’s hand and guided him over, ignoring the way Jimin arched a brow at him.
“Evening gentlemen,” Jeongguk greeted with a polite nod before pulling Jimin close enough that their sides pressed together. “I don’t know if you’ve heard the news, but this is my mate. Mine.” He said it with the kind of easy smile that carried a sharper undertone, just enough to make his point crystal clear.
The other alphas exchanged looks, offering their congratulations, forcing smiles. Jeongguk thanked them graciously, then turned to Jimin with a lovesick smile. “I’m sorry, did I mention you’re the most beautiful omega here?”
Jimin sighed, but his lips twitched, betraying his amusement. “Only about twenty times tonight.”
“Good,” Jeongguk said without hesitation. “I plan to make it thirty before we leave.”
Jimin laughed then, leaning up to kiss him in front of everyone. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” Jeongguk murmured, brushing his nose against Jimin’s, “but I’m ridiculously in love with you. And I want everyone to know it.”
And judging by the way he spent the rest of the night parading Jimin around with unabashed pride, everyone did.
The first week after they mated was, in a word, hell.
But not in the tragic, suffering, endless agony kind of way. No. It was the good kind of hell.
The kind where Jimin couldn't tell if he was being worshipped or wrecked, adored or absolutely ruined. Maybe both. Probably both.
Because Jeongguk, it turned out, was insatiable.
Jimin had always known his alpha was passionate, he’d seen glimpses of it in the way Jeongguk hunted, the way he trained, the way he protected those he loved. But nothing could have prepared him for what it would be like to share a nest with him. To be mated to him. To be his.
It started the morning after their ceremony.
Jimin had woken up, sore in places he hadn’t even known could get sore, head hazy with the remnants of his heat and the scent of Jeongguk that clung to everything. His hair, his skin, the blankets, the walls. It was everywhere.
He groaned softly and moved to sit up.
Big mistake.
A strong arm looped around his waist immediately, hauling him back into Jeongguk’s bare chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?” came a sleepy but possessive murmur, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
“Guk, I need to pee—”
“Nope.” Jeongguk nuzzled into his neck, breathing in deeply. “You move, and I’ll get hard again.”
“You always get hard,” Jimin hissed, squirming, only to freeze when he felt the pressure of Jeongguk’s half-awake cock nestled right between his cheeks. Already stirring. Already thickening.
“Exactly,” Jeongguk mumbled, sounding smug. “So don’t test me.”
And then, just like that, he slipped back inside. Knot and all.
Jimin let out a choked sound, face burning. “Jeongguk!”
“Shhh,” Jeongguk cooed, shifting his hips until Jimin whimpered and clutched at his arm. “Just for a little while. Wanna keep you warm.”
“You’re not keeping me warm,” Jimin gritted, even as his body betrayed him by melting back against Jeongguk. “You’re cockwarming me like a pervert.”
Jeongguk chuckled, tongue lazily dragging across the curve of Jimin’s neck. “Mated you last night, love. I am your pervert now.”
It was like that every morning.
Every single morning.
Jimin would try to roll out of bed and start the day like a normal person, but Jeongguk, who apparently thought ‘responsibility’ was code for ‘stay buried inside your omega forever’ had other plans. He’d wrap himself around Jimin like a heat-seeking vine, grind slowly until they were both breathless, and by the time he was finally satisfied enough to let go, the sun was already high in the sky and Jimin’s legs were trembling as he tried to shuffle to the washroom.
“Why do you walk like that?” Taehyung asked when Jimin limped to the main lodge to drop off a basket of herbs.
Jimin flushed so hard his ears turned red. “No reason.”
Yoongi, seated at the firepit, didn’t even look up. “It’s the mating glow. Or limp, in this case.”
Jimin nearly dropped the entire basket.
Back at their cabin, things were even more unhinged.
The place had quickly gone from peaceful lovers’ nest to full-blown sex den. Not a single surface was spared. The moment Jeongguk got that look in his eyes, the one that said, I need you right now or I’ll die, Jimin barely had time to blink before he was bent over something.
The kitchen table.
The bath ledge.
The dresser, the windowsill, the front and back door.
Once, he was just brushing out his hair when Jeongguk walked by, caught a whiff of his scent, and immediately dropped to his knees behind him, yanking down his sleep pants and burying his face between his thighs.
“Guk, I’m literally brushing my—oh god—”
“Keep going,” Jeongguk growled, mouthing at his slick hole like he was starving. “You look so pretty like this. Wanna eat you and watch you fluff your hair.”
“I’m going to die,” Jimin whined, gripping the vanity for dear life as his knees buckled and a moan slipped past his mouth. “My ancestors are watching—”
“Then I’ll give them a show,” Jeongguk said cheerfully, before sinking his tongue in deeper.
By the third day, the entire cabin reeked of sex. Of Jeongguk’s musk, of Jimin’s slick, of knotting and rutting and every possible scent combination two completely obsessed mates could produce. It was insane.
Jimin had tried to open a window once, just to air things out. Jeongguk slammed it shut before it was even halfway open.
“No,” he said sternly, eyes blazing. “I like the smell.”
Jimin blinked. “You like the fact that our house smells like a den of horny wolves?”
“Yes,” Jeongguk said without hesitation. “It smells like you. Like us.”
Jimin opened his mouth to argue, only for Jeongguk to step in, grab his waist, and bury his nose in the crook of his neck.
A low rumble escaped him. “You’re getting me hard again.”
“Of course I am,” Jimin snapped, even as his breath stuttered. “All I did was exist.”
“Exactly,” Jeongguk muttered, already reaching between them. “You shouldn’t be allowed to exist unless you’re under me.”
By the sixth night, Jimin looked like he’d been through a war.
His entire body was covered in love bites and bruises, his thighs a mess of teeth marks, his neck swollen from the mating bite and several more territorial ones Jeongguk had added just for good measure. He couldn’t walk without wobbling, and his voice was perpetually hoarse.
Jeongguk wasn’t much better.
His back bore deep claw marks that he wore with pride, showing them off like medals of honor every time he stretched. His lips were always swollen, his scent glands overworked, and his alpha aura was so smug and possessive, it practically radiated in waves.
“You good?” Namjoon had asked when they stopped by the river one morning.
Jeongguk grinned, hair messy, eyes dark. “Never better.”
Jimin, trailing behind him with a limp, flipped him off. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Jeongguk called over his shoulder, absolutely beaming. “You love me. You told me so when you were riding my knot last night.”
Jimin turned bright red. “I—Jeon Jeongguk!”
Despite all the mind-melting sex, the marking, the cockwarming, the knotted-over-the-kitchen-table nonsense, Jeongguk took care of Jimin like he was made of glass.
No. Like he was spun sugar. Like something Jeongguk had dreamed into existence and was now terrified of accidentally breaking.
Somehow, it made the whole ridiculous situation even more insane.
Because it wasn’t just the wild, insatiable sex in every corner of their shared home, though Jimin’s thighs still trembled when he stood too fast, and Jeongguk still got hard just watching him eat a peach.
It was the other stuff.
Like the way Jeongguk would help Jimin out of bed every morning with one arm securely around his waist, gently rubbing the small of his back like he knew how sore Jimin still was. The way he’d grumble sleepily, “C’mere, baby, let me carry you,” when Jimin even looked like he might try to walk to the bathroom on his own.
The way Jeongguk would brush Jimin’s hair for him, patient and careful, with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he worked through knots with gentle fingers and apologies.
The way he cooked breakfast shirtless, every damn morning, with Jimin perched on the counter in one of Jeongguk’s shirts and always gave Jimin the first bite. Always. He’d even blow on it first.
Jimin rolled his eyes every time but his cheeks flushed pink anyway, and Jeongguk would grin like a fool and kiss his cheek with an exaggerated, “My precious omega.”
One time, Jimin jokingly said, “You’re acting like I’m gonna break. I’m not that fragile, you know.”
And Jeongguk just blinked at him and said, dead serious, “You are.”
Jimin choked on his orange juice.
But it wasn’t just inside their cabin either. Oh no. That sweetness followed them everywhere, much to the absolute suffering of everyone who had to witness it.
Especially the other omegas in the pack.
Like the time Jimin and Jeongguk walked into the Sunday market, Jeongguk carried the woven basket with one hand, the other firmly laced with Jimin’s. He kept brushing his nose against Jimin’s temple absentmindedly, like he couldn’t go five seconds without touching or scenting him.
And Jimin, red-faced and flustered as usual, hissed under his breath, “Stop doing that, everyone’s looking.”
“They should look,” Jeongguk said, completely unbothered, and then turned to a passing beta with a smug, “Isn’t my omega beautiful today?”
The beta blinked in shock, nodded hurriedly, and scurried off.
Jimin groaned.
Later that day, while buying sweet potatoes from one of the stalls, a group of omegas pulled Jimin aside, giggling behind their hands like schoolgirls.
“You’re so lucky,” one of them sighed dramatically. “My mate barely remembers my birthday, and yours is out here feeding you by hand like you’re royalty.”
“And did you see the way he ran back to grab water for you earlier?” another added, starry-eyed. “I need Jeongguk to train my alpha immediately.”
“He looks at you like you hung the moon,” the third whispered. “And then railed him against it,” someone muttered, and the whole group burst into snickers while Jimin almost screamed.
“I—He’s not that—!” Jimin tried, flustered and overheated and betrayed by his own scent, which had turned all gooey the second someone complimented Jeongguk.
Then Jeongguk appeared behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Hi, angels,” he said cheerfully to the omegas. “Thank you for telling my mate how lucky he is.”
“God, get out of here,” Jimin muttered, slapping his chest.
The omegas giggled louder.
Back at home, it was no different.
Jeongguk never let Jimin do anything heavy. Not even reaching the top shelves.
“I have a step stool,” Jimin argued.
“I am the step stool,” Jeongguk replied, lifting Jimin effortlessly onto his shoulder and grabbing the box of tea without so much as blinking.
He’d pull Jimin into his lap while he worked, chin on his shoulder, purring contentedly like a satisfied wolf as he traced his fingers across Jimin’s thighs. Jimin would whine and smack at his chest.
“Get off, I need to finish this!”
“But you’re so soft,” Jeongguk would whisper, biting his earlobe. “Just five more minutes. You can work later. Or never again.”
And if Jimin so much as winced when he stood up too quickly, Jeongguk would appear out of nowhere with a heat pad, water, pain meds, and his “concerned alpha face.”
“You’re not dying,” Jimin would say, amused.
“You don’t know that,” Jeongguk argued.
“You did this to me.”
“Which is exactly why I have to fix it.”
Jeongguk carried his alpha pride like a badge of honor. Not because of how strong he was, but because of how much he loved Jimin.
He never shied away from being sweet, never downplayed how he felt, never cared if the other alphas looked or judged. If anything, he dared them to say something.
Because at the end of the day, his hand was in Jimin’s, and that’s all he cared about.
As they sat in the grass outside the pack house one lazy afternoon, eating fruit with some friends, Jimin glanced over and caught Jeongguk already looking at him.
He blinked. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeongguk said, smiling like an idiot. “You’re just really pretty today.”
Jimin blinked again. “…I literally haven’t showered in two days.”
“And still prettier than everyone here,” Jeongguk replied immediately.
Someone gagged in the background. Jimin threw a grape at him.
But he was smiling too.
Because Jeongguk loved him out loud.
And Jimin loved him back just as stupidly.