Work Text:
The dobermans circled lazily around Taehyung’s outstretched legs, their smooth black coats catching the late sunlight pooling through the glass doors of Jungkook’s penthouse kitchen. Dog toys littered the cream-tiled floor. One dog pawed a squeaky octopus, another tried to wedge its nose under Taehyung’s thigh for attention, while the third sprawled belly-up, shamelessly demanding pets.
“Mon, you’re so needy,” Taehyung crooned, fingers ruffling through the doberman’s fur. The dog’s eyelids drooped in ecstasy. “Do you even remember your dignity?”
Mon thumped his tail against Taehyung’s shin, absolutely unbothered. Next to him, Latte who was smaller and had a lighter fur color, stole a sock and bolted down the hall. Behind them, Dal, the senior, nosed at Taehyung’s hand, persistent in the hope that petting could continue indefinitely.
Taehyung was sprawled on the floor, knees bent, phone resting on his stomach and homework abandoned in favor of a sketchbook. The page was filled with loose, inky lines of dog faces and an unmistakable caricature of Jungkook’s profile, eyebrow arched, a cloud of irritation drawn above his head.
He smirked to himself, tapping the pencil against his lip, the faint sweetness of his own strawberry scent curling around him. He’d only sprayed his scent suppressant once in the morning, so it was thickening now, yet a bit more intensely than Taehyung would have anticipated.
The dogs had learned Taehyung’s rhythms; they knew he played rougher than Jungkook did, that he fed them forbidden slivers of dried beef behind the kitchen island, that he sang at the top of his lungs while wiping muddy paws and let them crowd him on the designer sofa. Jungkook would complain about the dog hair, about the nose prints on the windows, but he never really meant it. Not when Taehyung was the one with his knees tucked under him on the tile, coaxing Dal to take his meds with a scrap of sausage, never rushing, never impatient, always some gentle hum under his breath. Even the old dog, half-deaf and gray-muzzled, adored him. And Dal barely tolerated Jungkook on good days.
Taehyung’s job was simple: dog-sitting for cash and whatever leftovers Jungkook forgot in the fridge, in between portfolio submissions and long, nerve-wracking critiques at the university. He was older than most of his classmates, drifting through the end of his twenties with an artist’s stubborn optimism and a streak of bad decisions that stretched all the way back to Gwangju. He liked work that didn’t pretend to own him. He liked, if he was honest, being in Jungkook’s space: the stainless steel appliances he’d never afford, the absurdly expensive scent diffusers that tried to erase the alpha’s sharp pinewood signature, the abstract art on the walls (real ones, not prints), the superhero figurine collection in the glass cabinet. It felt good to be there even if it was as a guest, an employee.
Around a year ago he had put up flyers offering services like dog sitting, pup sitting, folding laundry… to earn a little extra. He didn’t expect to actually get serious responses but then there was that message from Jeon Jungkook asking if he was available during the week to care for his dogs. Taehyung was and they met up promptly. And Jesus fucking Christ Jungkook was a wet dream in a Gucci suit and so annoyingly “hot alpha” that Taehyung had dreamt about him for a full week.
Jungkook kept it strictly professional from the beginning, let Taehyung know his work hours and gave him the necessary information about the three Dobermans. The job was easy the pay was above average and Jungkook was nice and bought food for Taehyung. What could he want more in a job, seriously?
During the week (and he denied it but Taehyung was sure also on the weekends) Jungkook led a successful start-up company that specialized in making smart watches for heat and rut tracking. They could be connected to an app and specific cycle related information was provided. Taehyung didn’t really understand much of it, mainly because the price for a single watch was ridiculously high and so far beyond his budget that he’d rather stay ignorant.
There were little things that kept happening, more often the longer Taehyung worked for Jungkook. The fridge was suddenly always stocked—containers labeled with hasty notes: Eat up, Tae or brought extra because you liked my eomma’s namul. Gift bags would appear, always with cards: got this from a client, thought you might find it useful or should go well with your scent. But nothing meant more than the way Jungkook insisted on driving him home late at night, refusing to let Taehyung catch the bus, never accepting his offer to just grab an Uber. “I don’t mind,” Jungkook always said, and he meant it, even after a long day.
Fourteen months of dog-sitting for Jungkook had taught Taehyung just how different their worlds were, and he never dared hope the alpha’s kindness meant anything more. Surely Jungkook was just a generous boss. Nothing else.
Taehyung frowned, erasing the little heart he’d doodled beside Jungkook’s caricature in his sketchbook. He really needed to get a grip. But before he could spiral any further, the sharp bang of the front door slamming ricocheted through the penthouse, stone and glass carrying the sound. All three dogs leapt to alert. Taehyung looked up, sketchbook sliding down his stomach, as Jungkook stormed inside; thunder cracking open the quiet, the dogs crowding the hallway doorway, ears pricked and tails wagging, unsure what storm their alpha was bringing home tonight.
Jungkook barely spared them a glance, rushing past. His jaw was tight, lips pressed to a harsh line. He yanked off his tie so violently it nearly ripped his collar of the white dress shirt and flung it onto the sleek console. The suit jacket came next, peeled from broad shoulders with a twist, crushed in his fist, tossed onto a dining chair. Cufflinks pinged against stone as he ripped them out, one rolling under the wine rack. Pine filled the air, the signature of the alpha, but so agitated it almost choked the room, his scent spiking sharp, bitter.
Taehyung pushed himself upright, one knee popping, stomach twisting. “Well, look who’s home,” he called, false brightness over nerves. “And in rare form, too. Who pissed at you leg today?”
Jungkook’s head snapped around. “Don’t start with me, Taehyung,” he bit out, words clipped, voice cold as glass. “You couldn’t understand if you tried.”
Taehyung, getting up and wandering to the wine rack to grab the cufflink (couldn’t risk the dogs eating it) arched a brow. “Maybe if you tried not talking to me like I’m one of your interns—”
“Just clean up your stuff and get out of my apartment,” Jungkook spat. “Or is basic obedience too much for you too?”
The words were barbed and unfair, low even for Jungkook on a bad day. The room seemed to still, tension ringing out. Taehyung’s retort tangled up and died halfway to his lips, something ugly and unsteady flaring in his chest. For a moment, there was just the hum of the refrigerator and Jungkook’s furious, shallow breathing.
Taehyung swallowed, taking a deep breath, pine curling into his nostrils like syrup, it was like he felt it in his brain. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching hard enough to ache. When he spoke, it was all bite, the wounded pride of someone who’s fought for every scrap of self-worth in the past. His head felt hazier with every inhale of Jungkook’s strong scent. “Insult me again and see what happens. Let’s see who handles Mon’s medication tomorrow morning. Who picks up after Latte when you’re locked in another meeting until midnight. Dal likes to poop on your precious rugs, you know that? Go ahead, fire me. Just remember you’ll be the one, smelling shit when you’re coming home after pretending to be a goddamn CEO.” Taehyung felt his hands shake from the force of his outburst and from the way he could taste the pine on his tongue.
Jungkook’s nostrils flared, eyes flashing, but the retort stuttered out as he registered Taehyung’s trembling hands, the faint flush high on his cheekbones. Strawberry—usually light and teasing—thickened in the air, spiked with anger, disappointment, and something riper, lush and wild
Taehyung felt suddenly too warm, the collar of his shirt prickling his neck, heat blooming under his skin. His body was buzzing, feverish, but he pushed past it, held Jungkook’s gaze like a dare.
The alpha’s shoulders slumped, just a fraction. For a moment his face was bare and he looked tired and stricken. “That was—” He grimaced, voice softening just enough. “That was out of line. You didn’t deserve that. I’m—” He cleared his throat, words thick. “I’m sorry, Taehyung. You should go home. Before I say anything else I regret. You did nothing wrong. I’m an idiot.”
Taehyung scoffed, but it lacked bite. “Yeah, you are, boss. I accept your apology because you let me eat all of your kimbap. Speaking of, have you eaten since you left this morning? Or did you fill up on coffee and rage?”
Jungkook glowered, but didn’t answer. His stomach rumbled in the silence. Taehyung huffed out a bitter laugh.
“Pathetic,” Taehyung muttered, stepping forward, shoving at Jungkook’s chest harder than necessary, enough to make the alpha stagger half a step. “Sit your ass down. You’re useless to those dogs and your precious investors if you drop dead.” He brushed past, scent trailing bright, almost effervescent now, as he stalked to the fridge, flung open the heavy door. The light spilled out cold and blue across his face. “I’m not going anywhere until you eat something that didn’t come from a vending machine.”
Taehyung moved with the awkward, prickly irritation of someone whose clothes were suddenly too tight. He scraped leftovers rice, cold chicken, some namul, a sliver of kimchi into a bowl and plunked it down in front of Jungkook.
“Eat,” he barked, wiping sweat from his brow with the heel of his palm. “You look starved.”
Jungkook muttered something in reply, but obeyed, picking up his spoon. He chewed in silence, tension leaking out of his shoulders with every mouthful, the sharp bite in his gaze dulling a notch.
The dogs drifted back In, emboldened, crowding underfoot for scraps.
“Go to the living room, you hungry beasts,” Jungkook said and spectacularly failed to get their attention.
Taehyung whistled once and all three dogs turned immediately. “Go house, you silly creatures.”
They scrambled, paws slipping on the tiles as they hurried away.
Jungkook scoffed incredulously. “I can’t believe they like you more than me.”
Taehyung grinned, softer now. “They respect me more because I’m actually at home and clean up behind them. And because I give extra cuddles when they are obedient.”
“Thanks, Tae,” Jungkook said eventually, spoon suspended in the air, his face a bit more relaxed now. “For everything. I’m really sorry for my outburst. I had a shit day. An investor backed out last minute, I had everything ready the contract, the schedule, the planning. Hate it when shit like that happens. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, you’re my employee and that was so out of line.”
Taehyung braced himself against the counter, breathing through a wave of dizziness. His vision tunneled briefly, sweat prickling along his hairline. He tried to shake it off.
“I’m sorry to hear about the investor. Was it the one from Osaka?”
Jungkook looked surprised at the question. “Yeah, that’s— You remember that?”
Taehyung scoffed. “Of course, you told me like last month? I might not be much into this business stuff but I listen and I remember stuff. This is not—” Taehyung stopped himself, unsure how to explain it. “I’m not, like, feeling like I’m working? You know? It’s nice being here with your dogs. It feels like we’re friends, kind of. I mean—”
“Yeah,” Jungkook interrupted him, feeling the insecurity in Taehyung’s voice. “It does feel like we’re friends. I’m… not the best at this friendship stuff, but I like spending time with you too.”
Taehyung smiled, his hands getting sweaty and he rubbed them against his pants fabric. He could smell Jungkook so intensely from where he stood. “You still have to pay me though,” Taehyung joked.
Jungkook laughed, nodding. “Of course, Tae.”
The nickname landed somewhere warm and deep. A hot ache built in his belly, tender and sickly-sweet, and when he reached for his water bottle his hand trembled. His skin was flushed, thighs tight, jaw tense. He pushed down the creeping panic, but it flared through his scent. It smelled like strawberry but turned dark and overripe, tinged with feverish distress.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked up from his food, sharp all over again as a breeze hit him. He inhaled, and his brows drew together at the thick spike of scent in the air. “Tae, hey you alright?”
“Peachy,” Taehyung responded, trying to breathe through the haze. “Just a bit, uhm, under the weather I guess.”
Jungkook seemed to calculate his words carefully. “I’m not trying to overstep here so you don’t have to answer. But you smell, well— When’s your heat supposed to start?”
Taehyung’s mouth was dry. He swallowed, then shrugged, trying for casual but missing the mark. “It’s not due for another week, at least. I’m probably just coming down with a cold.”
Jungkook snorted, incredulous, but his tone gentle. “That’s not what it smells like. Christ, Taehyung, you’re burning up. You should’ve known you were close. This is exactly why I build those damn watches.” His lips twitched with a scowl. “It would’ve told you you’re early this time.”
Taehyung bristled, anger suddenly sparking over the hum of discomfort. “Oh, right, let me just pull three million won out of my ass. Maybe I can trade one of your dogs for the privilege? Or you could invent something normal people could actually afford, instead of trying to out-price Apple for medical shit that’s supposed to help people.”
Jungkook’s jaw flexed, but his own scent was thickening too, the deep resinous pine going sharp-edged with alpha tension, fighting the involuntary kick of want that rose as Taehyung’s scent deepened. He scraped the last of his dinner into his mouth and set the bowl aside, fingers white-knuckled.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said. “You shouldn’t be out like this, not with your heat coming on. It’s too dangerous.”
Taehyung scoffed, pushing his hair off his damp forehead, but it came out shaky, his body running hot, stomach cramping. “I’m not helpless, Jungkook. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that. But—” Jungkook shook his head, exasperated. “You know what it’s like for omegas when their heat’s close. Some alpha’s just waiting to take advantage, you know that.”
Taehyung stepped forward, chest out, chin tipped up, defiance burning in his eyes. His scent turned lush and needy. It was like a living thing now, curling around Jungkook’s senses, tangling with his thoughts. “Do you want to take advantage?” His voice trembled, not from fear but from something almost hungry, and Jungkook felt it like a fist under his ribs, his own body instantly responding, cock stirring, pulse kicking up fast and shallow.
For a moment Jungkook’s control shattered. He stumbled back a step, as if Taehyung’s scent was a physical force pushing at him. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles bloodless, eyes wide and dark.
“Don’t—” Jungkook’s voice was raw, barely there, “Don’t say shit like that. I wouldn’t— You need to be careful.”
Taehyung closed the distance, just a breath away, the ripe, aching strawberry scent so thick it was dizzying, desperate and inviting and demanding all at once. “What if I don’t want to be careful? Your pine scent triggered this, Jungkook. I can smell you everywhere. The pine is in my lungs, my mouth, my brain.”
“Taehyung, I’m being serious, you need to go home. Come on, I’ll —"
“What if I want you to spend my heat with me? You think you could handle me, alpha?”
Jungkook’s mind was a battleground where logic and restraint were scorched away by the hungry and wild howl of his alpha. The kitchen lights seemed brighter, the air thrumming between them, every instinct screaming to claim, to take, to press Taehyung down until there was nothing left but the heat, the scent and the need.
“I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you, alpha.” Taehyung’s gaze was fevered, but steady, unafraid. He dropped to his knees without hesitation, palms splayed on Jungkook’s thighs, tongue wetting lips parted in silent invitation, the pink tip flicking out, hungry for the taste of alpha. His cheeks were already flushed, pupils blown wide, that intoxicating strawberry scent so potent now it clung to the walls, the furniture, everything.
“Fuck,” Jungkook’s voice was rough, barely human. “You sure, Tae? You really want this? You still with me? Making clear decisions?”
Taehyung looked up, lashes wet, mouth curving into a cocky, reckless smile, breath stuttering. “Crystal clear. Want you to ruin me, alpha. Need it. Want you. Want all of it, please. I really do.”
That plea cracked something wide open inside Jungkook. His hands shook as he yanked at his belt, fumbled the zipper, cock already leaking, flushed and hardening. He gripped the back of Taehyung’s head, not cruel but commanding, and pressed himself to those soft, open lips.
Fuck, he really shouldn’t do this. Fuck. But Jungkook’s restraint could only go so far with the omega waiting to choke on his cock.
Taehyung didn’t hesitate, taking Jungkook deep, lips stretched wide, tongue pressed to the throbbing vein. The heat of his mouth was fucking perfect. So wet, eager, clumsy in the best way, drooling over Jungkook’s cock, humming needy little whimpers that vibrated straight up Jungkook’s spine.
Jungkook groaned, head tipping back, voice wrecked. “Shit, just like that, fuck, Tae.”
Taehyung choked, nose pressed to Jungkook’s base, tears already streaking down his cheeks, the filthy, desperate gurgle of his moans filling the room. His hands clawed at Jungkook’s thighs, then slipped between his own legs, trying to get any friction on his cock, knees pressed together.
Jungkook’s grip tightened, using Taehyung’s mouth the way he’d been dared to. Each thrust was harder, deeper, Taehyung’s throat working to take him, eyes shining with tears and need. Taehyung moaned, the vibrations eliciting more pleasure.
“Fuck, listen to you, baby,” Jungkook growled, hips slamming in. “That mouth was made for me, huh? You like choking on alpha cock, my desperate little omega?”
Taehyung sobbed around him, the slick noise of spit and pre-cum obscene, drool running down his chin, desperate, gasping, whimpering, “mmmh, mmmph, ah—”
When Taehyung’s hands started trembling, legs kicking out, Jungkook forced himself to pull back, cock slipping from those swollen lips with a lewd, wet pop. He pushed his length back into his pants and bent to sweep Taehyung up, one arm locked under the omega’s thighs, the other braced across his back. Taehyung’s head lolled against Jungkook’s chest, hot and dazed and clinging, whole body trembling.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Jungkook panted, mouth pressed to Taehyung’s temple, staggering toward the bedroom, each step a test of control as Taehyung’s needy scent enveloped him, made it almost impossible to think. The dogs whined in the hall, but Jungkook barely heard, every neuron blazing with want.
He set Taehyung down on the wide, rumpled bed, body caged over him. His gaze burned, voice iron-edged, gaze wandering to Taehyung’s mouth. He kisses the spit and pre-cum slick lips like he’s been starved for years. Then, as the want in his body seemed too much, he pulled away and cradled Taehyung’s face. “Undress for me. Want to see what kind of present you brought me, baby. Give your alpha a show. Let me see all of you. Now.”
Taehyung was trembling as he pulled his shirt over his head, heat thrumming through his veins, slick pooling between his thighs with every breath. His hands moved clumsy and slow at first, but he forced himself to focus, to give Jungkook the show he demanded and apparently needed judging by his intense gaze. He swayed on his knees atop the mattress, skin flushed and glistening, and drew his fingertips down his torso, pinching his own nipples until he gasped. The flush on his cheeks was strawberry pink, mouth parted, lashes fluttering.
He arched his back, pushing his ass out, shimmying his hips as he peeled his shorts down, leaving them tangled around his knees for a moment, grinding against the sheets until they were soaked with slick. He kicked them away, then crawled up the bed, arms stretching luxuriously, back bowing until his ass was high in the air, thighs parted wide. He looked back over his shoulder, lips bitten raw, offering Jungkook a view that would haunt him for the rest of his life. A perfect, ripe omega, hole flushed and glistening, sweet pink and dripping wet.
Jungkook’s breath stuttered in his chest. His hands tore his own shirt away, flung his pants aside, barely aware of fabric, nearly losing his balance in his rush to be naked, to be skin to skin with this wild, perfect creature on his bed. His cock was hard enough to ache, leaking pre-cum, the scent of Taehyung’s heat clinging to his every nerve.
“Stay just like that,” Jungkook growled, voice deep, shaking with restraint. “Let alpha taste his treat.”
He dropped to his knees behind Taehyung, hands branding themselves into the meat of Taehyung’s ass, spreading him wide to bare that perfect, dripping hole. The smell was dizzying and sugar-sharp, heady with heat, like warm fruit burst open in his hand. He leaned in, tongue broad and flat, lapping up the glossy slick that had already spilled down Taehyung’s thighs.
Taehyung cried out, high and helpless, shoving his face into the sheets, hips jerking as Jungkook ate him like he was starved, sucking and slurping. The taste was maddening. It was like jam, sticky-sweet and tart, slick so thick it coated his tongue.
“God, Tae, you’re fucking dripping for me. All this for your alpha?” Jungkook rumbled, pressing his tongue deep, tracing every trembling ridge, his nose buried in the thick heat at Taehyung’s base.
Taehyung sobbed, fists knotting the covers, thighs trembling uncontrollably. “A-ah, please, more alpha, please! Need you, need you so much—” his voice dissolved into babbled whimpers, tears wetting his cheeks.
Jungkook slicked up his fingers then pressed one in alongside his tongue, feeling the greedy clench of Taehyung’s channel as it sucked him deeper. Slick squelched, running over his hand, making the stretch almost frictionless. He worked another finger in, then a third, scissoring and curling, watching the way Taehyung’s hole fluttered and sucked, how more slick gushed out to meet his mouth.
“Look at this,” Jungkook groaned, voice rough with awe. “Can’t get enough, can you? You’re fucking made for this, baby. Look at how you take my fingers. You’re sucking them in, so fucking greedy for alpha’s cock.”
He dove in again, tongue and fingers moving in concert, lapping up every drop, lips and chin sticky with Taehyung’s slick. Taehyung shook apart on the bed, crying openly, each wracked sob a broken, desperate plea for more, for Jungkook, for everything his alpha could give him.
“Jungkook, alpha, please, need you so bad, please, wanna cum, wanna cum, want only you—” He was sobbing, writhing back onto Jungkook’s hand, greedy hole sucking down every thrust of those thick, curling fingers.
“Fuck, listen to you,” Jungkook growled, breath hot against the base of Taehyung’s spine. “So loud for me and so needy, so fucking perfect. You want alpha’s cock, baby? Tell me.”
Taehyung’s reply was a garbled, shattered moan. “Yes, yes, fuck, want it, need it, need you. A-a-h-h, please—”
Jungkook’s fingers curled hard against that sweet spot deep inside, pressing relentlessly until Taehyung’s hips jolted and he wailed, whole body tensing as his climax ripped through him. Slick and cum spurted hot, drenching Jungkook’s hand and the sheets. Taehyung shook violently, crying out, “Ah-ah fuck, alpha! Jungkook!”
Jungkook watched him unravel, fingers stroking him through every spasm, awe and hunger warring in his chest. Then he let go, cleaned his hand on the sheets and rolled a condom down over his aching cock with trembling hands, not willing to waste a second. More slick gushed out which he used to lube up his cock and then he lined himself up, pressing the blunt head against Taehyung’s fluttering hole.
“Ready, baby? Gonna fill you up so good, fuck you through this heat,” Jungkook’s voice was a rough promise, hips rolling forward, his cock breaching Taehyung inch by inch. The stretch was obscene, Taehyung’s body greedy, sucking him deeper, welcoming every bit.
Taehyung howled, voice cracking. “Yes, yes, fuck! D-deeper, more, need it! N-need alpha to ruin me, oh god—!”
Jungkook began to move, hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a punishing rhythm from the start. Each thrust was answered by Taehyung’s wanton cries, the slick sounds between them so filthy it echoed in Jungkook’s skull.
“That’s it, take it, fuck, you feel so good. So tight, so wet. F-fuck, Taehyung, you’re perfect—”
Taehyung clawed at the bed, hair damp with sweat, voice hoarse from moaning.
Jungkook reached around, fisting Taehyung’s leaking cock, stroking him in perfect time with the slam of his hips. The omega wailed, hips driving back to meet every thrust, ass bouncing, trembling under Jungkook’s hands.
“Gonna cum for me again, baby?” Jungkook panted, eyes glazed, heart pounding wild in his chest. “Wanna feel you milk my cock, wanna see you fall apart.”
“Yes! Yes, fuck, please, alpha!” Taehyung’s voice shattered on the last word, whole body arching, choking on a scream as he came again, thick ropes spurting over Jungkook’s fist, his channel clamping down so tight Jungkook nearly saw stars.
Jungkook fucked him through it, coaxing every last tremor, every last cry, grunting and cursing, “That’s it, fuck, look at you, so beautiful! My perfect omega.”
Taehyung’s voice was a broken, blissed-out litany, still babbling, still begging for more.
Jungkook’s breath caught ragged in his throat, sweat sliding down his neck and chest as he watched Taehyung collapse onto trembling arms, mouth slack and glazed eyes spilling silent tears of relief and bliss. But he wasn’t done, not nearly. His alpha needed more, needed to see every twitch and cry, needed Taehyung stretched out beneath him, wanted to see that beautiful face as he ruined him.
Without warning, Jungkook gripped Taehyung’s hips, slipped out hauling him up and over with a show of strength. He pressed Taehyung down into the mattress, thighs hooked wide over his own, and pinned him in place with his weight, cock thrusting back inside the clutching heat of Taehyung’s body.
Taehyung’s lashes fluttered, cheeks glossy and pink, lips red from biting down on desperate moans. The moment Jungkook thrusted in deep, grinding their hips together, Taehyung’s head fell back, voice raw. “Ah… fuck, alpha… want it, want your knot… need you to fill me, please, please,” he sobbed, hands scrabbling helplessly at Jungkook’s shoulders, dragging him closer.
Jungkook’s mind reeled, rationality dissolving under the tidal pull of Taehyung’s pleas, the obscene gush of slick that soaked his cock with every slow thrust. He bent over, mouth finding Taehyung’s jaw, then lips, devouring each noise, tasting tears and heat and that wild, ripe strawberry.
“Fuck—listen to you—You want it that bad, baby?” he whispered, voice thunder and gravel, thrusting in again, harder, holding Taehyung open so he could see his cock disappear with every roll of their hips. “Want alpha’s knot? Want to be filled up, stuffed full, bred like the sweetest little omega?”
Taehyung nodded frantically, sobbing, “Yes, yes, wanna be full, want your pups, want alpha to claim me. Please, please, alpha!”
Jungkook’s own need flared out of control, hips slamming in, the bed rocking with their rhythm, Taehyung’s thighs falling even wider as if his body could open up endlessly for more. Jungkook locked eyes with him, watching his face contort in bliss and want, drinking in every whimper, every broken plea, every shuddering gasp.
Jungkook grunted, nearly losing himself at the sight, pace growing frantic, desperate, the bed creaking, their slick bodies tangled, breaths mingling, pleasure cresting like a wave about to crash and swallow them both.
Jungkook drove in deeper, his cock swelling at the base, the ache for Taehyung’s surrender spiking in every muscle. He gathered Taehyung up in his arms, holding him close and spread, nose buried in the mess of damp hair as their bodies collided.
Jungkook’s vision blurred, the room shrinking down to heat and scent, the desperate flex of Taehyung’s body beneath him, the clutching, pulsing grip around his cock. He hooked an arm under Taehyung’s knee, spreading him wider, driving in harder, relentless, every thrust ringing out with the lewd, messy sound of slick and skin.
“That’s it, baby. Look at you, taking alpha’s cock so well, so fucking needy—” Jungkook was babbling too, rationality thinning, the need to breed unreal. “You want to be bred, huh? Want alpha to fill you up, knot you, keep you so fucking full you can’t even think?”
Taehyung nodded frantically, biting at Jungkook’s shoulder lightly, words spilling out between shuddering sobs. “Yes, yes, please!”
Their bodies slammed together, Jungkook’s hips grinding deep, knot catching and popping in, stretching Taehyung open until he was sobbing, nails digging half-moons into Jungkook’s back. Jungkook snarled, lost in the heat, in the wild throb of his knot finally slipping past that greedy ring, locking him in, sealing them together. He jerked Taehyung’s cock again, fast and rough, and Taehyung shattered, cumming for the third time, body locking up, mouth open in a silent scream, trembling as thick spurts covered both their stomachs.
The wave of Taehyung’s orgasm sent Jungkook over the edge. He cried out, rutting hard, grinding their hips together as his cock pulsed, filling the condom, the pressure so intense it was dizzying. He panted Taehyung’s name over and over, kissing the tears from his cheeks, fucking them both through every last shiver, every aftershock, the world falling away until there was nothing left but the ache, the heat, the lock, and the two of them shaking in each other’s arms.
Taehyung clung to him, body still quaking, voice weak but happy, bliss-drunk, “Alpha.”
Jungkook nuzzled him, heart hammering, lips pressed to his jaw. “Yes, my omega,” he whispered, still joined, still locked, still trembling, “all fucking mine…”
Jungkook stayed buried inside for as long as he could, savoring the tight, trembling clutch of Taehyung’s body, the sweet weight of him cradled in his arms, both their chests heaving with the aftershocks. But already he felt the knot losing its stubborn swell, pressed tight by the slick latex barrier.
He pressed one last soft kiss to Taehyung’s temple, then pulled back just enough to check the condom, hands still shaking. “Gotta be careful, baby—don’t want to risk it,” Jungkook murmured, voice low, still rough. He held the base with steady fingers as he eased out slowly, making sure not a drop spilled. The latex bulged heavy and hot as he withdrew, and Taehyung whined at the sudden emptiness, body clenching around nothing, hole swollen and leaking the last slick dregs of heat.
Jungkook hurried to knot the condom closed and toss it, then returned with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned Taehyung gently, the pads of his fingers brushing across sensitive skin, wiping away sticky strands of release and sweat and tears, pressing soothing circles into quivering thighs.
Taehyung blinked up at him, dazed, lips parted in a hazy, sated smile, hair a wild mess across the pillow. “You’re good at this, you know,” he mumbled, letting Jungkook tuck him in, pulling the blankets up, rolling Taehyung into his chest.
Jungkook nuzzled him close, jaw resting against the crown of strawberry-scented hair. “You deserve it, Tae,” he murmured, letting the omega curl against him, both of them sticky and sore and still trembling from the force of it all.
But the heat was not nearly done. Taehyung’s skin radiated fever-bright, slick already blooming again between his legs, a new flush creeping across his chest and down his thighs. He pressed his face into Jungkook’s neck, greedy for the grounding pine, rolling his hips with a needy whine.
Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, but he only reached for it to type out a single message that was short, firm, final: Won’t make it in tomorrow. Personal emergency. He silenced every notification and tossed it away, no one else in the world mattering, not now.
Taehyung burrowed deeper, hips rocking shamelessly. “Alpha, need you—‘m still—”
Jungkook soothed him, hands stroking down his sides, voice deep and soothing. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” He kissed Taehyung’s brow, rolling him onto his back, letting the need build all over again. “I’m here for you, okay? You’re mine for the time being.”
Just a sniff and already Jungkook could feel his cock stirring back to life, the ache and pulse of need flaring up as Taehyung’s scent spiked sweet and delirious all over again. “Gonna make you enjoy this heat,” Jungkook promised, teeth scraping the shell of Taehyung’s ear, “Alpha will fuck you so good, baby.”
Taehyung pressed impossibly closer, opening his legs in sweet, daring invitation. And Jungkook dove right in.
Between rounds, Jungkook would force himself to slow down, washing Taehyung’s body with soft towels, feeding him water by hand, shushing his fever-bright pleas with gentle words and kisses. Sometimes Taehyung’s need spiked so high he shook, writhing on the sheets, knotting his fingers in Jungkook’s hair and dragging him between his legs, sobbing, “Need your tongue, alpha, please—” until Jungkook licked him open again, eating him out until Taehyung screamed, cumming untouched, slick and tears and spit a mess across his thighs.
Once, Taehyung’s teeth found Jungkook’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise without breaking skin, desperate to ground himself as Jungkook fucked him through another climax. Jungkook only groaned, baring his throat, pressing their bodies together so tight Taehyung could feel every shudder of muscle, every trembling pulse.
By the third round, Taehyung was limp and dazed, thighs sticky with slick, whole body shivering even as he arched up to meet Jungkook’s every thrust. Jungkook knotted him again, holding him through every aftershock, whispering, “Mine, you’re mine, baby. Wish I could breed you and fill you until you’re all round and plump,” until Taehyung’s heart fluttered wild in his chest.
Sometime in the night, Taehyung woke to Jungkook’s fingers trailing down his spine, thick and gentle, tracing every mark, every scar, every trembling muscle. The alpha bent over him, nuzzling the nape of his neck, pressing lazy kisses to his overheated skin. “You awake, baby?” he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion and want.
Taehyung could only hum, half-dreaming, mouth dry and lips split from too many desperate kisses. “Need you,” he slurred, barely coherent, hips rocking back instinctively, “Please, alpha, fill me up, don’t wanna be empty…”
Jungkook’s chuckle was low and adoring, full of pride and satisfaction. “Greedy thing,” he whispered, sliding in with slow, careful ease, letting Taehyung feel every inch, every possessive stretch. This round was slower, lazier. Jungkook’s hand stroking Taehyung’s cock, mouth worshipping every inch of his spine, voice soft and reverent as he rocked them together, coaxing Taehyung to another trembling, whimpering climax before knotting deep, holding him through the comedown, both of them lost to the heat.
And again, in the gray hours before dawn, when the heat spiked sharp and urgent, Taehyung crying for it, Jungkook gave him what he needed. Hard, rough, teeth scraping down his throat, bodies colliding in frantic, desperate rhythm. They fucked until the sheets were soaked, the air sweet and sharp with scent, Taehyung’s cries and Jungkook’s grunts echoing off the high ceilings, the city far below them fading to nothing.
Only when Taehyung finally collapsed, boneless and bliss-drunk, did Jungkook allow himself to breathe, curling around the omega, tucking the blankets up, pressing his lips to every bruise, every bite, every trembling pulse point until Taehyung slept again, safe, sated, finally resting, wrapped up tight in the arms of the alpha.
Afternoon sunlight flooded the bedroom making everything look gentle, after the delirious blur of heat. Taehyung drifted up from a sleep so deep he could barely remember his own name, his body limp, boneless, spent to the marrow. The mattress was empty beside him, Jungkook’s scent only lingering on the crumpled sheets. A small, warm ache remained between Taehyung’s thighs like a memory, proof that every fevered hour had been real.
It took a long minute for Taehyung’s mind to come back to him. The only sounds were his own slow breaths, the distant muffled clatter of pans and the click of a stove from down the hall. Did he really spend his heat with the hot start-up CEO he was working for as a dog sitter? Was that real? It must’ve been because Taehyung wore one of Jungkook’s old shirts that had a dorky cartoon dog print and a two holes from were Latte had bitten into it once.
When he sat up, his muscles protested, too exhausted to move quickly. He blinked blearily at the end of the bed. Jungkook had stacked fresh towels and a pile of clothes there: soft sweats, an old band t-shirt, even clean underwear. The gesture made something in Taehyung’s chest flutter, ridiculous and shy.
He took his time in the shower, letting the hot water sluice away the last sticky evidence of the heat. His skin still tingled, ached in places he hadn’t known could ache, but it was a good ache, deeply satisfying. He dressed, towelled his hair, and padded barefoot down the long hallway, guided by the heavy, mouthwatering scent of real food.
Jungkook stood in front of the stove, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. He wore sweats too, hair still damp from his own shower, tattoos stark against his pale skin. The kitchen was transformed into a food heaven: every inch of the table was covered with snacks and drinks, cut fruit, ramyeon steaming in bowls, rice cakes, fried chicken, even Taehyung’s favorite strawberry milk. The dogs circled quietly, tails wagging, instinctively gentle after the chaos of heat.
There was a brand new smart watch from Jeon Technology on his plate. But what drew Taehyung’s eye was the small, neatly wrapped gift box resting next to the plate, silver paper and a dark velvet ribbon that looked elegant and carefully chosen.
Jungkook turned, spatula in hand, looking tired but so much softer than before. “You’re up,” he said, voice low, searching Taehyung’s face for signs of distress, worry, regret… anything.
Taehyung just stared at the food, then at Jungkook, then at the gift, uncertainty and hope rising in him like a tide. “Did I… Did you do all this for me?”
Jungkook set the pan aside, hands wiped on a towel, stepping forward. His cheeks went faintly pink, a bashfulness that looked entirely out of place on him. “I thought you’d be hungry. And I wanted…” He hesitated, voice going shy. “I wanted to take care of you. Even after. I got you one of my watches too, just because, it’s helpful, makes your cycle less surprising. Only if you want it if course, no pressure.”
Taehyung nodded, biting his lip and looking into Jungkook’s dark eyes. He took the watch and put it on his wrist. It was slim and looked like a normal watch.
“If I had worn this, we wouldn’t have… Spent the past days together,” Taehyung remarked, turning his wrist to look at the watch.
“I know,” Jungkook said, a soft smile playing around his lips. “But I’d rather know you’re safe and not get surprised by your heat when you’re away from home. I want you to be safe and… Be able to better plan and control who you spent your heat with. Even though I hope you’ll choose me again in the future.”
Was he allowed to kiss him? Taehyung wondered. He definitely wanted to kiss the alpha. Not because of the gift but. Just because.
Instead Taehyung ran his hand through his damp hair, looking down at the small, neatly wrapped box with the letters FRED embroidered on it, heart hammering. “What’s this?”
Jungkook’s ears went pink. “It’s, uh. A gift. For you. For… I mean, it’s sort of—” He cleared his throat, voice dropping, softer. “A— well. It’s a courting gift. To show I’m serious. That I’d like to… try. If you want. Dating. You and me.”
For a second, Taehyung thought he was dreaming, that the fever hadn’t really broken and he was still in the throes of delirium. He’d expected awkwardness, maybe a quiet breakfast and an awkward goodbye, but not this. Never this. His eyes grew round, disbelieving, then wet with something sharp and stunned.
Jungkook’s voice faltered. “You don’t have to say yes, or anything. I just—wanted you to know how I felt. You’re not just a heat fuck to me. You’re—I want to keep waking up next to you, kiss you, laugh with you.”
Taehyung broke, laughter bubbling out, warm, giddy, almost teary. “You absolute dork,” he said, voice shaky, fond, “You’re courting me? With jewelry? From fucking FRED? Jungkook this is too much!”
Jungkook managed a crooked, hopeful smile, nodding at the box. “Open it. Please. I want you to have it.”
With fingers that trembled a little, Taehyung undid the ribbon and peeled back the paper. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was a delicate gold necklace with a stylized dog pendant with three stones set into it, one for each of Jungkook’s dogs, Twehyung supposed. On the back was a tiny inscription: the one they all love best.
Taehyung’s breath hitched. He held it up, throat tight, eyes shining. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, voice breaking. “No one’s ever—No one’s ever done this for me. How did you get this this fast?”
Jungkook stepped closer, hand finding Taehyung’s jaw, thumb soft against his cheek. “I bought it weeks ago,” he admitted, voice low and a little shy. “I was going to give something to you as a thank you for bringing Mon to the vet last month. But then I saw this one, and I just… had to get it. On the off chance that this very wonderful—and extremely hot—omega might be interested in dating me.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened, his happiness spilling out in a shocked laugh. “You… really?”
“Really,” Jungkook said, a smile curling his lips, his gaze earnest. “Let me put it on you?”
Taehyung turned, let the necklace fall warm and light against his throat, Jungkook’s fingers gentle at his nape. He faced Jungkook again, a shaky, shining smile blooming across his lips.
“You’re really serious?” Taehyung breathed, wonder and delight tumbling out of him. “I mean— me? I’m not, like, special. No fancy family history. No start-up ideas. Just a struggling student trying to sell his art.”
Jungkook laughed softly, drawing him in, their fingers interlacing. “Dead serious. You’re better than me. Ask the dogs, they adore you. And I want you for who you are. I really don’t care about family or anything. Besides, I know you’ll be successful on your own soon.”
Taehyung looked barely convinced. “I don’t want you to think I’m here because of your money or your gifts. I don’t need any of these, Jungkook. I— I want—”
“Tell me, love. What do you want?” Jungkook’s lips ghosted over Taehyung’s.
“Someone who is there, not only at work. Who wants more than sex. Even though the sex was— well the best.”
Jungkook smirked. “I was the best. And yes, I want to be there for you. I do.”
Taehyung nodded slowly, arms snaking around Jungkook’s waist.
“So… Stay with me? Let me take care of you, not just in heat. For as long as you want,” Jungkook asked hopeful, almost pleading.
Taehyung kissed him softly. It felt sweet, tender, tasting like new beginnings and the promise of something real. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’d like that. I’d really, really like that.”
“Good,” Jungkook whispered against his lips. “Because I think I really, really like you.