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As soon as the choreographer and Minho allow for a break, Chan pulls Jeongin aside.
“Iyen-ah? Can I talk to you really quickly?” Chan asks, taking Jeongin by the arm gently, but firmly enough that he doesn’t even consider anything else but to follow Chan to the corner of their dance room. He did not ask to give Jeongin a real choice, but to tell him that they will be speaking. Though, Jeongin doesn’t think he’s in trouble, which is rare in the first place, and if he were, Chan would not be having this conversation here. Maybe Jeongin made a choreo mistake and Chan doesn’t want to embarrass him, or something in a similar vein.
Chan leads him to the closest corner, near the door and furthest away from the mirrors, which is where the rest of their members are gathered with the choreographer, asking questions. Instead of speaking, when they reach privacy, Chan pulls Jeongin close by the waist, then sniffs the column of his throat. Not scenting him, exactly, just … smelling. Jeongin immediately attempts to squirm away, because why would Chan do this, in the middle of dance practice? His throat, near his scent glands, has always been overly sensitive, which is why he avoids any of the pack getting too close when nothing can be done about the consequences, ie, on camera. If Jeongin slicks up, everyone, including their managers and choreographer, would be able to smell it. Chan also recently had his rut, so Jeongin is almost sure his weird behaviour cannot be clocked up to that, though maybe there are some leftover hormones Chan needs to get out and he just happened to choose Jeongin for it. He wouldn’t know. Odd.
“Stop it,” Chan says, not said as harshly as a command, but clearly meant as one, when he gives Jeongin that look , like his mom does when he isn’t listening, or, rather, that his alpha does when -- well . It’s unexpected enough that it sends a chill through him, down his spine, but Jeongin obeys and stands still for Chan to continue nosing at his throat. Chan inhales once more on that side, then switches to the other, and Jeongin naturally lets his head tilt away, to allow his alpha better access. For an almost abnormal amount of time, enough that Jeongin genuinely does worry about his slick, Chan sniffs, then pulls away, pursing his lips.
Jeongin blinks at him. “Are you okay, hyung?”
“I think you’re entering pre-heat soon, pup.” Chan responds instead, forehead creased. Immediately, Jeongin sighs. So that’s what this is about.
“I had my heat like, two months ago, hyung. Is your nose broken?” His heat isn’t due for another month. Not that Jeongin’s heat cycle has ever been the most regular, but it isn’t really irregular , either. It comes on time, for the most part, give or take a week at the very most, and then -- outliers, occasionally, where Jeongin will get a flash heat in the middle of his cycle. But again, it isn’t a typical concern, and usually is not accompanied by a pre-heat. Jeongin has never had his real heat come early before.
Chan looks at him sourly. “My nose is not broken , but it is big, so I think you should trust what it tells me.”
Jeongin takes a page out of Seungmin’s book and pats Chan’s shoulder sympathetically. “I think you’re just so old that your senses are starting to go. Have you gotten your eyes checked recently? You might need to --” he cuts himself off with a laugh. “You might need to keep an eye on that.”
“Yah!” Chan yells, sounding much like Changbin. “Really, Iyenie?” he whines, but it doesn’t really do anything, considering it just makes Jeongin laugh more. “I’m serious! Listen to your alpha!”
“Mm,” Jeongin hums brattily, already pulling away. As if he’d listen to an alpha about his own heat. Hyunjin and Jisung had not raised him like that. If it were either of them who pulled him aside, then Jeongin would probably take it a little more seriously, or Felix, even. And if it were that urgent, anyway, then wouldn’t someone else have said something earlier? There are two alphas in his dorm -- between the two of them, Jeongin logically thinks that one of them would have said something that morning.
Chan is notorious for overly worrying, anyway. Jeongin feels fine, which is the most important indicator that he is fine.
🐶
When Jeongin wakes for the first time, several hours too early for a day off, he feels okay. Blearily, he checks the time, realizes how early it is, then plops back onto his pillows and falls back asleep.
Two hours later, when Jeongin cracks his eyes open for the second time, his underwear is just a little damper than usual. Not wet enough for him to be in full heat, but , he thinks, with a defeated groan -- that means Chan was right yesterday. Jeongin’s heat is coming almost an entire month early, and he should probably be concerned, but the bone-deep exhaustion that comes with his pre-heat has already hit him like a ton of bricks, and Jeongin hasn’t even left the bed yet. Getting out of bed is already low on his list of priorities for the day, and making a doctor's appointment is much lower. It also means that he owes Chan an apology at some point, which is embarrassing because Chan is going to be obnoxious about it forever .
At least Jeongin isn’t delirious enough yet to forget how to care for himself. It takes a little longer than usual, but he forces himself out of bed, despite how much he wants to sink into his mattress. He’ll be damned if he lets the fatigue that comes with his pre-heat, or the neediness of it, ruin a perfectly good day off.
Jeongin enters the kitchen to find it empty, which is not surprising, considering it is still relatively early for anyone to want to leave their rooms. Felix for sure isn’t even awake yet, and maybe not Minho either. For a moment there is the urge to see if Seungmin is up, which he likely is, but -- Jeongin also knows that once he gives in, he will not have the self-control to refuse later. It’s like a dam breaking -- the moment that Jeongin indulges in the neediness of pre-heat, the desire to be full of cock, he won’t want to be empty again until his heat is over, and he will get nothing done for the rest of the day. Not that Jeongin had much planned, anyway. But, still. He wants to be lazy today on his own accord.
Jeongin sits through breakfast all right. He’s too tired to cook, and he’s sure if he woke Minho up and whined about how tired he is, he’d be sitting with a warm meal, but Jeongin is somewhat content with his aloneness. As in, bodily, he needs to be close to someone, but Jeongin, outside of the pre-heat urges, just wants to sit in silence for a little bit. He puts together a bowl of cereal, is still a little hungry after finishing it, and makes another, smaller bowl. By the end of it, the itch underneath his skin and the damp fabric on his ass become too annoying to bear, so Jeongin compromises with himself. If anything, he just needs to be close to an alpha for a while and he will be okay. No need to be split open or anything, and lose hours of the day soaking someone’s cock.
He leaves his bowl in the sink and promises to wash it after spending some time with Seungmin, and hopes that Minho doesn’t have an aneurism about it before Jeongin is satisfied. When he knocks on Seungmin’s door, Seungmin doesn’t answer for a moment and Jeongin almost believes that he’s still asleep. Then, he hears a quiet ‘come in’, so Jeongin cracks the door open and peeks his head inside. Seungmin is at his desk with his journal open, when Jeongin peers in, and turns to look at him, questioning.
“Hi, Innie,” he says, blinking. It seems like he’s been up for a while already.
Jeongin responds quietly. “Hi, hyung.”
Seungmin sniffs the air. Jeongin does not like how easily it can be smelled on him. “You’re in pre-heat already?” He flips several pages backwards in his journal and writes something down. Leave it to Seungmin to keep track of everyone’s cycles like this.
“Yeah,” Jeongin sighs, fully entering. He shuts the door behind him. “Um, I don’t want to do anything like that, though. Not right now, at least. Can we watch something?” Seungmin nods in understanding. Still, after years, Jeongin has trouble outright asking for things like this -- closeness, physical affection. It isn’t that he never wants it, and everyone else is very good at giving it when Jeongin cannot ask for it himself, just that it’s difficult, feels a little like baring his soul, which is a scary thing to do every day.
Jeongin tucks himself under Seungmin’s covers and watches as he marks his page and closes his journal, putting his pens away in the organizer on his desk. “You can choose,” he supplies. He doesn’t think he has the capacity, really, to be choosing anything.
Seungmin hums in thought, climbs into the bed and presses himself next to Jeongin, skin-to-skin, warm . He opens his laptop and places it on their laps, between them, and lets Jeongin lean into him. The solidity of Seungmin is already grounding. “Let’s rewatch something,” Seungmin suggests, and Jeongin nods against his shoulder. It’s probably a good idea. Jeongin might fall back asleep, honestly, better not to start something new just for Seungmin to have to pause it. He ends up putting on a drama they finished last year, with Minho, long enough ago that it isn’t boring to rewatch, but recent enough that they don’t have to pay complete attention if they don’t want to.
It’s -- good. Jeongin already feels a little bit better. Maybe it’s because he’s also lounging in bed and his bones can rest, but the thrumming desire is no longer settled so heavily at his core, the hair on his arms no longer raised and reaching out for contact with someone else. Just a few episodes, Jeongin supposes, then he can let Seungmin out of jail, and Jeongin can clean up his mess and go do whatever he wants.
Which -- turns out to be a lie, just an episode later, when Seungmin shifts the laptop off of their thighs and sets it on Jeongin’s side of the bed, then turns them over so that they’re spooning, Seungmin’s body flush against his back. Jeongin is a little surprised, and also tired enough that he lets Seungmin do it. It’s comfortable, anyway, even though Jeongin can anticipate the ulterior motives behind it. “I told you I didn’t want to do anything about it,” he says, but with no real bite. He isn’t upset, exactly, though mildly annoyed. Alphas think they always know best and want to provide for their omegas, and whatnot, even if Seungmin, out of the three alphas, is the least… like that.
Seungmin kisses the back of his neck, above Chan’s claiming bite, and gently ruts against him, half-hard against his lower back. Jeongin’s underwear dampens considerably. “You need to, though. It’s not good for you to be repressing like this. Lying here with me will only quell it for so long.”
“ Hyung ,” Jeongin whines miserably, scooching away just for Seungmin to reel him back in with the freakish strength he’s storing somewhere in that skinny body. His fingers curl in the wrinkles of the sheets, for leverage, when Jeongin tries to roll away again. “But if I start now then I’ll need to be full all day . What if I had plans!”
“Since when do you ever have plans ?” Seungmin laughs, and yanks Jeongin’s sweats down his thighs. His breath catches, involuntarily, which is unfortunate because Seungmin is going to just take it as encouragement, if not to also fuel his already large ego about being right.
“Um,” Jeongin says, squirming to make it difficult for Seungmin. He has already halfway resigned himself to his fate, so might as well make the stupid alpha work for it. “I have plans with Yongbok-hyung all the time!” He dances around the fact that he doesn’t today, though he could probably make them just to get Seungmin off of his back -- literally.
Seungmin, though, does not care, and manages to pull Jeongin’s underwear down, too. “Okay. You can do your plans with Felix while sitting on his cock, can’t you?” Jeongin whimpers when Seungmin slips two fingers inside of him in one go. Jeongin isn’t sure if it is more humiliating that he is already open enough for two fingers right away, or if it is more humiliating that he likes how easy it was. “See?” Seungmin says brattily, prodding a third finger at his hole already. “You’re wet and loose enough that I could have just fucked in without having to do anything.”
The terrible thing is, Jeongin can’t argue either of Seungmin’s points. Felix probably would find a way for them to play games with his cock inside of Jeongin, and current evidence is proving that Jeongin is open for Seungmin to slide home. All he can do is twist his fingers in Seungmin’s sheets and bitch at him. “Shut up!”
“You already know that you need it, Iyenie. It’s okay.” Is all Seungmin says, obnoxiously smug, before lining himself up with Jeongin’s hole and pressing inside.
Something clicks, once Seungmin is fully seated inside, which is what Jeongin was afraid of. The stretch around Seungmin’s dick is primally satisfying, quenches a thirst deep down in Jeongin and he knows that once he is off of Seungmin’s cock, he will feel so empty that he won't be able to do anything else besides whine and cry until he’s full again. It’s not even the need to be bred, not yet, just Jeongin’s inner omega craving viscerally to be filled to the brim, the longing to be close to his pack in a way that's so intimate, connected in such a literal way. This is everything that Jeongin needs until his heat hits, just fullness all day, even in his sleep.
He lets out a deep, content breath, one that he didn’t realise he was holding, and he can’t see Seungmin’s pleased little smile but knows that it’s there. Jeongin is certain Seungmin had felt the full body relief, the way that each of his muscles relaxed once Seungmin’s hips were levelled against his ass. Jeongin did need it, of course he did. Seungmin props himself up behind him and reaches around Jeongin to press play on his laptop. “We can watch now,” Seungmin says simply, as if he hadn’t just held Jeongin still and forced his cock inside.
“You suck,” Jeongin says, this time with a little bite, not that Seungmin would particularly care. He probably thinks in his stupid alpha brain that he’s taking such good care of his silly little omega right now. Whatever — what’s done is done, Jeongin is too tired to fight about it, so there is nothing left to do besides continuing the drama. It isn’t like Seungmin will let him go anywhere, and it isn’t like Jeongin wants to go anywhere, not anymore. Sitting on cock is usually what tames Jeongin for all of his pre-heats, so he can’t try and say that lying here filled to the brim is not good , because it is.
And Seungmin is very respectful about it, at least, for now, which Jeongin can appreciate underneath the general sort of annoyance. Despite the fussing earlier, Seungmin does not try anything else, so Jeongin can technically still do what he set out to do in the first place -- finding peace in his alpha’s presence. Seungmin holds him close, leaves gentle kisses across his shoulders and a palm pressed against Jeongin’s stomach so that he can continuously feel how full he is, not uncomfortably, but in a way that will satisfy him quicker, and therefore allow Jeongin to have relief faster. Underneath the covers, with Seungmin flush against him, the bed is warm and very comfortable, perfect for his weary body. By the time another episode finishes, Jeongin is dozing off, and Seungmin, graciously, lets him.
When Jeongin wakes again, it’s to the gentle rocking of Seungmin’s hips and a hushed conversation. He clocks the new scent before the voice, intense lavender and sage, over Seungmin’s coffee bean and cocoa, dulled with how long Jeongin has been in his presence. Minho, then, being nosey. Or, more likely, there to scold Jeongin about his dishes in the sink. Seungmin’s fingers are curled gently over Jeongin’s hip, and their drama is paused again.
“Already?” Minho asks quietly. Jeongin can feel soft movement from Seungmin, likely him nodding. A hand brushes loose hair from Jeongin’s forehead, and when he peels his eyes open, Minho’s concerned face is startlingly close to his. “Hi, Iyen-ah, baby.”
“ Hyung ,” Jeongin ends up whispering, was hoping to formulate a proper sentence and sound more coherent than he felt, but — he had expected Seungmin to stop fucking into him when he woke, and instead, Seungmin tightened his grip and rolled his hips just a little harder. Minho’s scent could have probably lulled him back to sleep otherwise. That would have been nice.
At least, with Minho overseeing them, he can keep Seungmin in check. Not that Seungmin is ever bad . A brat, typically, mean and demanding when he’s in that sort of mood, but never taking or giving anything that Jeongin doesn’t want him to, despite whatever initial protests he may have. Still, occasionally, Seungmin can accidentally be too rough, when during Jeongin’s preheat the sex he craves is uncharacteristically soft for what he normally prefers. It isn’t all the time, or often, that Seungmin gets like this, but today, he might.
“How are you feeling, pup?” asks Minho. He kisses Jeongin on the forehead, underneath where his palm rests above his hairline. Then, his hand slips down to caress Jeongin’s jaw, his thumb brushing against the seam of his lips. He cannot help but whine pathetically, with his cock half chubbed, and the stimulation from Seungmin and Minho’s tenderness doing nothing besides making it worse.
Truthfully, Jeongin is satiated, if maybe still a little tired, though that will fade. Regardless of the arousal prickling his skin, and the spasming of his muscles, he is full, warm, and a little scent drunk. Seungmin must have scented him while he was sleeping, and now, Jeongin feels the effects of it, the satisfaction of smelling like his alpha, a mark of ownership to carry with him.
“M’ good,” he answers eventually, and means it. Seungmin does not pause his motions, but doesn’t change his languid pace, either, teasing rather than fucking, really. Before his lips close, when Jeongin finishes speaking, Minho slips his thumb inside, hooking gently over his bottom teeth, to feel behind them. The air is already becoming warmer, his hole producing more slick. It won’t take much longer for Jeongin to reach full hardness, probably. Minho always touches him so — intimately, eyes hazy and obsessed, possessive. As if Minho wants his fingerprints permanently displayed everywhere he places his fingers. Jeongin, made pliant by his pre-heat and the cock splitting him open, sucks on Minho’s thumb obediently.
Minho doesn’t do much, besides stare at him intently and press his thumb along Jeongin’s teeth. Seungmin doesn’t do much, besides squeeze bruises onto Jeongin’s hip and fuck him at the most aggravating pace known to man.
When Minho is satisfied with… whatever he was searching for, he plants another soft kiss on Jeongin’s forehead, then pulls away, leaving Jeongin’s mouth feeling empty. “Gonna be a good pup and let Seungminnie take care of you, baby? While hyung makes lunch? What do you want,” he asks, thumbing away a rogue tear from Jeongin’s watery eyes. “Hyung will make you anything.”
Jeongin huffs defeatedly, once again acknowledging how, in Minho’s absence, he will not get very much of a say in what goes on in this room. This is likely what Seungmin was waiting for. “Samgyetang, please, hyung.” With the sweet smile Minho gives him, Jeongin doesn’t think he even has to bring out the puppy eyes.
Minho smacks a kiss on the crown of his head, then leans over to ruffle Seungmin’s hair, who squirms away. “Play nice, puppy,”
“I will not,” he bites back, and is telling the truth. Minho rolls his eyes and leaves the room. Almost instantly, Seungmin rolls Jeongin over and straddles his ass, cock resting against his skin, having slid out. “Do you think, Iyenie, if I knot you, will it trigger your heat?”
“ Hhh, uh,” stutters Jeongin, who presses his face into the pillow, embarrassed at how easily it causes slick to leak from his hole. “It doesn’t — not normally.”
Seungmin spreads him open, then slides three of his long fingers inside Jeongin, curling them purposefully. When Jeongin moans, Seungmin keeps them curled and slips them out, taking a clump of slick with them. It’s so damp , when it gushes past his rim, uncomfortable and sticky. Behind him, Seungmin groans, and there’s the tell-tale sound of wet skin sliding against wet skin. He is rubbing himself off with his slick, Jeongin realises. “Your heat isn’t very normal this time, Jeongin-ah.” Which — is true.
Jeongin squeezes his eyes shut and twists his fingers in the pillowcase. Seungmin, leaning over him, with his cock prodding at Jeongin’s rim. “ Seungmin-hyung ,” he cries, wanting and wanting. How could he do this? Work Jeongin up with his infuriating thrusts, the drag of his cock too slow to get him off but too quick to keep Jeongin from going flaccid, and then tease him like this? “Hyung said to be nice!” As if Seungmin cares, when Minho isn’t in the room.
In lieu of a reply, Seungmin takes hold of his waist and fucks into Jeongin, hard, leaving him gasping. The pace is rough, probably rougher than Jeongin needs, when his body is already so weary, especially before his heat hits. It’s not the smartest idea to already be sore when he is going to be speared on someone's dick or knot for most of the week ahead. Still, Jeongin lets him, because it feels good even with his exhaustion, and there is some sort of satisfaction in knowing that once he tattles to Minho or Chan, Changbin, even, Seungmin will get it worse than he’s giving now.
“Hyung isn’t here,” Seungmin says eventually, when he takes a moment to catch his breath, switching to a slow, deep roll of his hips. Jeongin wonders if Seungmin’s rut is due soon, or if it’s just the scent of an omega nearing their heat, that has Seungmin a little more aggressive than he typically is when Jeongin is in pre-heat. Not that he hasn’t been like this before but -- it’s uncommon. “Gonna knot you, Iyen-ah.” He says it as if it is fact, which it likely is, considering how long Seungmin has already been sheathed inside of him. Maybe, instead of heats or ruts, Seungmin is like this because his cock has been hard and soaking inside a sloppy wet hole for an hour, or something like that.
Seungmin picks his pace back up, less purposefully brutal than before, but more desperate, which doesn’t actually change much about the intensity, just the rhythm. “ Ah , hyung, okay ,” Jeongin allows, between sobs into his pillow. He did not particularly want to wait for Seungmin’s knot to deflate and have their lunch get cold, but if Seungmin comes quickly enough, then perhaps they will get out of this before Minho finishes. Knots outside of ruts and heats don’t usually last very long, so, fine .
Instead of attempting to hold out, Jeongin lets himself feel, moans and cries and clenches around Seungmin inside of him. Seungmin is fucking him obnoxiously well for how much Jeongin was trying to fight it, and he cannot help the words tumbling out of his mouth, or the drool. “ Hhh , Seungminnie-hyung, please ,” he begs, humiliatingly. One of Seungmin’s hands slides underneath Jeongin’s t-shirt to grip his shoulder for leverage, while still keeping contact with Jeongin’s skin, turning feverish the longer they go at it. It’s -- embarrassing how quickly he flies to the edge, teetering while Seungmin uses his hole without a word.
He cants his hips back towards Seungmin’s, who takes it in stride by hauling Jeongin up on his knees, thighs trembling with the effort. Jeongin has to bite into the pillow, not wanting to be too loud when Felix is likely still sleeping, and Minho is busying himself with their food. Really, Seungmin had pulled him up for no reason, besides to stroke Jeongin’s cock, because it doesn’t take more than a few pumps for him to come, and collapse back onto the mattress as if he had never gotten up. Seungmin falls forward, nearly on top of him, if not for catching himself on his elbows, and grinds into Jeongin, slick collecting between them.
“ Ah ,” Seungmin gasps, when Jeongin inevitably spasms tightly around him through his orgasm. His weight is solid, grounding across Jeongin’s back, Seungmin’s warmth seeping through their shirts, directly to Jeongin’s heart. “Jeongin-ah, baby , I can’t ,” he hisses, clamping his teeth around his own mating mark, on the side of Jeongin’s throat. If Jeongin had not just come, he probably would have then, or gotten hard again. Instead, he goes boneless, which seemed impossible with how limp he already was, shaking beneath Seungmin’s palms. Yet, here Jeongin is, body slackened, eyes fluttering, and Seungmin groans, sloppily fucking into him once, twice, before his growing knot catches on Jeongin’s rim and Seungmin can no longer pull out.
It would be overstimulating, the way that Seungmin continues to grind into Jeongin as his knot inflates, if he were not so used to it already, or so wet and open. Rather, it just feels good, loose enough that the stretch of Seungmin’s knot is not much of a stretch at all, but a heady pressure fuzzy in the back of his head. The proximity to his heat is probably why Jeongin isn’t currently trying to squirm away from the pleasure, his body ready to take knot after knot, bred without a break in between when on a normal day, he would be on the verge of tears. So he allows Seungmin this, his hole to use even after Jeongin has come, because he only gets it a few times a year. Not that he could have stopped Seungmin anyway, with the heaviness of him draped across Jeongin’s back and his muscles weakened from his orgasm.
A few more deep thrusts, and Seungmin stills, unlatches his mouth from Jeongin’s neck just to bite into the meat of his shoulder as he finally comes, a throaty groan erupting from the depths of Seungmin’s chest, unusual outside of heat sex. Jeongin had already planned to plug himself after this and now, with Seungmin’s cum pumping into him, he thinks it may be a terrible idea, solely because it will make him a thousand times needier knowing that there’s cum soaking inside of him.
Seungmin sighs, when his cock stops pulsing, and licks over his teeth indents in Jeongin’s skin. Considering that they are going to be connected for at least five minutes, Seungmin rolls them back into their original spooning position, palm pressing against Jeongin’s stomach on purpose just to drive him insane. He hisses, slapping Seungmin’s hand away, and uses Seungmin’s soiled sheet to clean off his stomach.
“Feel better, Iyenie?” asks Seungmin, far too pleased with himself. If only Jeongin could slide off of his knot and punch him, or something. He opts to pinch the back of Seungmin’s hand, who nips at his claiming bite in retaliation and laughs at the full body jolt that zips through Jeongin as a result.
“I hate you,” Jeongin replies, and means it a little bit. What a bitch. He cannot wait to see what the hyungs do with him after his heat is over.
🐥
Forty minutes later, Jeongin is unknotted, plugged, and full of toasty soup.
Minho’s soup settles his stomach perfectly, samgyetang being one of his favourite pre-heat meals. It warms him deep inside his bones, to the marrow, and temporarily alleviates the cramping that inevitably follows the beginning of his pre-heat. The plug helps, too, to mimic fullness and subdue the desire to warm someone until it really becomes unbearable. For a while, Jeongin will be -- fine. A normal human being, hopefully. Able to do whatever he likes for several hours before he succumbs to his carnal desires again or whatever.
When Seungmin mocked him, Jeongin truly did not have any plans with Felix, but decided to actually make them, after attempting and failing to accompany Chan to the gym. Something stupid about getting slick on the benches and his scent being too distracting, needing his rest, etcetera. It would have been a nice, healthy way to relieve some residual tension from the events of an hour ago, but apparently he is banned, so yelling at his monitor while playing games with Yongbok is just going to have to do. Partway through waiting for Seungmin’s knot to deflate, Felix poked his head in just to ‘check in’, though Jeongin thinks he just wanted to see the scene for himself, judging from the intrigued, molasses-slow smile that appeared on Felix’s face.
Which works quite well, actually. Jeongin folds himself into his chair, taking care not to sit directly on the plug and lets himself feel the weight of it, the girth. It satisfies his neediness enough that Jeongin can happily and contently set up his phone to Facetime with Felix and open Overwatch on his PC. Seungmin, lucky him, promptly passed out after lunch, so he does not join them, and they decide not to invite any of their friends to play either. Firstly, they are busy, likely, but mostly -- Jeongin doesn’t want to be embarrassed when the plug, unavoidably, shifts and he accidentally whimpers, or something equally as pathetic. Besides, when he is like this, Jeongin doesn’t always perform at his very best, which is also quite embarrassing.
Either way, Jeongin has fun, and feels a little more in control and relaxed than he had this morning, He didn’t realise exactly how thrown off he was by his heat approaching so early until he participated in a very normal activity and felt relief from it. Not the same sort of reprieve that his body craves, the fullness and proximity to his pack, but the relief that Jeongin needs. But, as with his pre-heat every single other, ordinary time, Jeongin cannot go for very long without -- someone. It’s less about the general sensation of a full hole and more about connecting; their body heat searing Jeongin’s skin, the heaviness of their cock keeping his head from floating away, and the more that he thinks about it, the fuzzier his head becomes, and the less that Jeongin is able to focus.
“Iyen-ah, my love.” Felix interrupts, after a particularly tragic loss that earned Jeongin some targeted comments from their team in the in-game chat. He already knows what Felix is going to say or rather, what he is going to suggest. “You’re getting a little sloppy, yeah?”
At least Jeongin has half a mind to apologise. “Sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to.” He logs off and shuts down his PC, knowing that he will not be in his room for much longer than the time it takes for Felix to invite Jeongin into his.
Yongbok gives him another lazy, honey-dripped smile. “I know, baby. Don’t worry. Hyung can take care of you.” The light from the screen reflecting off of Felix’s face changes from the bright colours of the Overwatch menu to the dark hues of Felix’s game client. His eyes flit around, mouse clicking, until his face brightens with the loading screen of a different game. It will be like that, then, which Jeongin might prefer. He really does not want another dick in his ass so soon.
Jeongin gives him a clumsy reply, then hangs up and makes his way next door to Felix’s room.
The door is unlocked, so Jeongin lets himself in. Felix swivels around in his chair to face him and welcomes Jeongin with a wide smile, pointed teeth on display, immediately lifting his mood. He can’t help but grin, too, when Yongbok is so pretty and happy, always so infectious. As usual, Felix welcomes him with literal open arms, and even if Jeongin doesn’t typically allow physical affection so easily, he always gives this to Felix. It’s nearly impossible to deny Yongbok anything, really. When Jeongin approaches him at his desk, Felix pulls him close and laughs gently, causing Jeongin to laugh, too. A kiss is pressed to his cheek and for once, Jeongin doesn’t recoil, but he scoffs out a disgusted noise just to keep up appearances.
“You love me,” Felix says quietly, which is very true, but Jeongin shakes his head anyway. His smile gives it away regardless.
When Jeongin tries to rise back up, Felix keeps him bent close with a firm hand splayed across the back of his neck, the other unknowingly pressed against the tender spots that Seungmin had left earlier. They lock eyes for a moment, Jeongin flushing with the attention, before Felix drags him closer and their lips collide gently, sugar-coated like Felix’s smile. Always, Yongbok smells like an orange grove alongside the sea.
Felix kisses the way that he smiles -- saccharine and dreamy, the slow reveal of his sharp teeth charismatic when his lips curl, similar to the sweet, languid lick of his tongue against Jeongin’s lips. Everything is slow, and deep , with Yongbok -- really grants him the ability to feel , syrupy and cloying. Jeongin falls so quickly under his palm. Felix grips him tighter, their tongues brushing against each other lazily. It gets messy, sometimes, when it’s this slow. There’s already a thick string of saliva between their mouths, when they part, and they had not been kissing for very long.
Jeongin’s head spins, dizzy with Yongbok’s sweet, citrus taste. When the hand on his neck slides to his shoulder and guides Jeongin underneath Felix’s desk, he goes pliantly. Jeongin would not think of doing anything else.
Perched on his knees, Jeongin blinks up at Felix, who gazes back at him with dark, lidded eyes. At least Jeongin is not the only one who folded so easily. He flits his gaze down to Felix’s track pants, where there’s an increasingly obvious situation that Jeongin will take care of shortly. “Please, hyung,” he asks, always polite for Felix, and waits for permission, fingers brushing over his waistband. Yongbok lifts his hips and helps Jeongin shove his pants and underwear down to his ankles, then scoots his chair closer to his desk, crowding Jeongin between his knees. From here, he cannot see very much of Felix, besides his lower half and just below his chest, but that’s alright. Most likely, Jeongin is going to have his eyes closed anyway.
“Go ahead, Iyen-ah,” Felix says, one hand grabbing his mouse and the other curling gently into Jeongin’s hair. He doesn’t pull, or drag his head anywhere, just -- rests his hand on the crown of his head, a comforting gesture more than anything, that Jeongin appreciates. Felix’s arm offers no resistance when Jeongin leans closer, his left hand rising to curl around his calf for leverage. The other briefly takes hold of Yongbok’s half-hard cock, just to feed it into his mouth, then wraps around Felix’s other calf.
It’s the best, like this, when Felix is mostly flaccid. His cock is a welcome, still somewhat solid weight in Jeongin’s mouth, and fits , the entire thing. Whereas, when Felix is hard, his dick takes up so much space, making it difficult to breathe, and therefore difficult to enjoy. Above him, Felix clicks and clicks his mouse. Soon, the hand leaves his hair and he hears the tapping of keys. Whatever game Felix is playing, it doesn’t seem to be intense, which is probably a good idea.
It only takes a few moments for the effect to settle in, the goosebumps that rise on Jeongin’s skin when his body feels perfectly fulfilled, the thoughts trickling out of him through his ears, guided out by a pleasant haze. He could sit here forever, if his knees permitted it, Yongbok’s cock filling his mouth so well. Felix continues to play his game, paying Jeongin no mind at all, and Jeongin continues to warm him.
After several long minutes, maybe fifteen, even, Jeongin begins to tire. He isn’t exhausted -- he won't fall asleep, but instead of holding himself up, he rests his cheek against Felix’s thigh and closes his eyes. No longer does he have the strength or the mental capacity to sit upright; his body feels floppy like gelatin, and he needs to slump comfortably. Jeongin is not keeping track of time, but occasionally, one of Felix’s hands will come down, brush hair out of Jeongin’s face, or pet his head. Sometimes, he will pull at Jeongin’s cheek to watch his mouth stretch around his cock, thumb dipping into the corner of his mouth just to tease. Jeongin is too brainless to do anything about it, so he obediently sits still.
An unspecified amount of time passes. Jeongin is comfortable and full and does not need to think, so he doesn’t. Felix will occasionally murmur something, likely sweet, but Jeongin doesn’t really register the words, more than the deep, honeyed tone of his voice. By the time Felix places a hand on his forehead and gently peels Jeongin off of his cock, he can’t tell if ten minutes have passed, or thirty.
“A break, baby,” Felix says, twice because Jeongin did not comprehend him the first time. He blinks up at Yongbok, who pulls his sleeve down to his wrist with his teeth and uses the fabric to wipe away drool that Jeongin didn’t realise was dripping from his mouth. It is probably smart, to pause -- he didn’t realise how sore his jaw had become until Felix’s delicate fingers began to massage where he is the most tender. Jeongin sighs under the pressure, eyes fluttering shut, and Felix laughs quietly at him. “Cute. My pretty omega, so close to heat, huh? Wanna be full soooo bad.”
Jeongin flushes, cheeks blooming. Praise in general is always quick to fluster Jeongin, but when it comes from Felix specifically, it hits very differently. The syrupy rumble permeates through his chest and douses his limbs in molasses, warms his entire body enough for Jeongin to melt, soft meat sliding right off the bone. He wants to turn away, hide, but Felix still cradles his face in his palms, and wouldn’t let him do any of that. “Um,” whispers Jeongin, not entirely back in his head yet. “Maybe,”
“Maybe?” Felix echoes, letting go of Jeongin with one hand to take hold of his half-hard cock, jerking it once, since Jeongin’s saliva is already mostly dried. He taps the head against his cheek, lips drawing up into that smooth smile. A whimper slips involuntarily from his throat. He does want, actually, very much. Of course, this only encourages Yongbok to tease him further, brushing the tip of his cock across Jeongin’s lips, light enough that he can just barely feel it, but when he opens his mouth, it has already receded.
“ Hyung ,” Jeongin whines. “Don’t be mean!” He’s already had enough bullying today.
Felix laughs at him again, canines on display. Thumbs at the seam of Jeongin’s lips until they dutifully open, and slowly feeds his cock back inside of his wet mouth. “I’m not anymore,” he replies, warm and sweet enough to mask the smugness of it all. When it is fully seated, Felix curls down to leave a kiss on Jeongin’s head, then shifts his attention back to his game, resuming as if they had not had a moment at all. It doesn’t matter, because Jeongin falls easily back into his place at Yongbok’s feet, warm and wet, soaking his cock obediently.
More time passes -- Felix stops clicking around on his PC for a moment to indulge in Jeongin again, briefly massaging his sore spots, fingers dancing along his jaw, throat, mouth. It’s so quiet, soft. Stopping for a moment didn’t pull Jeongin out of whatever headspace he is in, because Felix took care to be gentle. He kneels and allows Felix to touch him however he pleases, whenever he pleases, keeping Jeongin’s head planted on his shoulders with the weight of his cock.
Yongbok does not have a window in his room, so when Jeongin does open his eyes, for the first time in a while, he can’t tell how long he has been there, not that he can see much from under Felix’s desk anyway. What Jeongin does know, which is what brought him back to awareness in the first place, is that at some point, Felix had reached full hardness, firm against his soft palate. Felix’s dick is no longer entirely in his mouth, and Jeongin aims to fix that. He gazes up at Felix, and shifts so that he’s less -- limp. With a few taps of his keyboard, Felix scoots his chair back just slightly enough for him to see Jeongin’s face, and smiles, dripping sugar. “Hi, baby,”
Jeongin blinks at him. In lieu of a reply, he uncurls one hand from Yongbok’s thigh and wraps it around the base of his cock, holding it steady for him to open his throat and sink further down. He isn’t huge , not the biggest out of all of them, but Felix is large by beta standards, so even with the effort, Jeongin’s lips don’t reach where his hand is placed. Not yet , at least. After resting in his mouth for however long, it’s a little uncomfortable for Jeongin to use his tongue, but he does his best to press it firmly along Felix’s shaft, sliding across the soft skin. Yongbok groans deeply above him, hand sifting through Jeongin’s hair to grab a handful, though not particularly hard. Not yet .
It sends sparks through his spine regardless, made so sensitive by -- everything , that even the gentle pull has Jeongin’s dick twitching in his sweats. He slowly guides his head up, then down, using the suction more than the motion to please Felix. Presses hard with his tongue, just underneath the head, then swirls it around, dipping into the slit. Beneath his other hand, Yongbok’s thigh tenses, and satisfaction swims through him. More spit than from when he was just warming Felix, dribbles past the corners of his lips and drips onto Felix’s lap. A little gross, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When Jeongin looks up, Yongbok is flushed just as pink as Jeongin likely is, eyes heady and lidded.
Now that Felix is no longer flaccid, his cock is just a little bit heavier, and the ache in Jeongin’s jaw makes itself known with how much more it needs to stretch to accommodate him. He keeps working, for as long as he can, eventually opening up enough to take Felix nearly all the way down. For the most part, though, Jeongin sticks to teasing the head, where Yongbok is the most sensitive. He relishes in the subtle signs that Felix is enjoying this -- the flexing muscles, twitching fingers in his hair, his noises.
But, soon enough, Jeongin just can’t take the soreness anymore, the stiff neck, and knees sure to bruise. He wants Felix to come, though, even if he can no longer do the work for it. When he pulls off of his cock, he takes a moment to catch his breath, and Yongbok tugs gently on his hair, questioning. “Hyung,” Jeongin whines, meeting his eyes. “I can’t, ”
Felix, infuriating when he wants to be, smirks, quirking an eyebrow. “I don’t remember asking you to do anything, Iyennie.”
It’s eye twitching, almost, how often Jeongin ends up having to use his manners. “ Please .”
His lips curl, pleased, like a cat who got the cream. Felix wipes more spit from Jeongin’s face, except there’s so much that mostly, it just smears across his mouth. Likely, Felix had done that on purpose. “Okay, Iyen-ah. You’ve been so good for me, I’ll use you,”
Felix shifts closer to the edge of his seat, for leverage, and Jeongin obediently waits. He takes his cock in hand and guides Jeongin by his hair until his lips are wrapped around him again. They pause there for a second, for Jeongin to relax his throat and the rest of his muscles, and once Jeongin taps Yongbok on the thigh, he roughly tugs Jeongin off of his cock, then drags him back down.
It hurts now, in the good, toe-curling, way. This sort of pain, the grip on his hair and the strong hand placed across the back of his neck, is good . When Felix is doing the work, Jeongin doesn’t have to think and can let himself feel instead, keeping him inside his body when otherwise, he would float off into the atmosphere. The soreness in his limbs, and the tender jaw, are still there, but Jeongin can easily just forget about it when he doesn’t have to focus. Later, everything will probably hurt more, but -- he trusts that his hyungs will take care of him when it does.
Tears, finally, prick at Jeongin’s eyes, partly because of the pain, and partly because of how often his gag reflex is triggered by Felix forcing his cock down his throat. They wet his lashes, eyes squeezed closed from all of the movement, and whenever they spill over, Felix thumbs them away. For a moment, Felix yanks him off of his dick, and his chest heaves as he catches his breath. Surely, his sweats must be soaked by now, not even a plug can stop slick from leaking when there’s enough of it. Yongbok does not make it peaceful for him, though, pries his mouth back open and spits inside, as if there wasn’t enough. His shirt is damp with it, and so are Felix’s pajama pants. Then, Felix’s fingers follow, guiding the spit down his throat until Jeongin gags around them. “So pretty,” he murmurs breathlessly, mostly for himself, Jeongin thinks, but the words fluster him anyway. “My pretty little omega, so cute, letting me use you like this. Like a little doll, making me feel so good.”
With that, Jeongin physically cannot help himself anymore, and he knows that Felix would never punish him for it, especially during his pre-heat, so he shoves his hand between his thighs and ruts against his palm. They will probably shower, after this, so he isn’t concerned about making a mess of himself. It isn’t like he was really thinking about it, anyway. If this were any other moment, Jeongin would be very mortified with how quickly he was able to come in his pants , but -- he does not have it in himself to care anymore and lets himself go, trembling as he wets his underwear. “Cute,” Felix comments, fond, then squishes Jeongin’s cheeks between his palms as if he hadn’t spit in his mouth just a second ago. He can’t do much besides let him, so Jeongin does, and when Yongbok has finally had his fill, he holds Jeongin’s face firmer and uses this grip to force him back onto his cock.
At least, Yongbok does not last much longer. For only a minute, maybe, does Felix work him over, then pulls Jeongin’s face flush with his hips, and comes. Jeongin lets the bitter cum fill his mouth, because Felix always seems to like it when he tugs Jeongin off, and the cum drips. Jeongin swallows, parts his lips, and Felix uses his thumb to push whatever remains on his lips into his mouth.
“Was it good?” Asks Jeongin, after he swallows again, his voice raspy from misuse.
Felix blinks at him in surprise, rolling his chair back an appropriate amount, for Jeongin to get up from underneath his desk, but mostly so he can stare at Jeongin, confused. “Of course it was? Was it good for you ?”
Jeongin hauls himself off the floor, using Felix’s knees for leverage, and immediately collapses onto him, legs trembling from how long they had been folded beneath him. Felix, having expected this, is prepared to collect him, hands automatically rising to rub Jeongin’s back over his t-shirt. “Um, yes. I’m just -- sticky. But,” he says, suddenly shy. He stuffs his face in the crook of Yongbok’s neck. “It was exactly what I needed. Thanks, hyung.”
Felix laughs a little, bewildered, but doesn’t say anything else, just kisses his head. His palms slide down Jeongin’s waist to knead the feeling back into his thighs, and when Jeongin is ready, guides them to the shower.
🐰
Considering how full Jeongin has been today, he should not feel as empty as he does, and yet -- even with his rim stretched around his plug, Jeongin yearns. Which, is unusual, for him to still want more after having two cocks, on his first day of pre-heat. During their shower, Felix had bent Jeongin over and fucked into him, wanting to make Jeongin come himself, so why on earth is he still so needy?
It isn’t as if Jeongin had been alone very long, for him to crave one of his hyungs like this, before bed. He and Yongbok had napped peacefully for an hour, maybe, then joined the rest of the pack in the other dorm for takeout dinner. Hyunjin especially had fussed over him, and that in itself is typically enough to satisfy Jeongin on a normal day. Afterwards, Jisung showed him a youtube video he had apparently been wanting Jeongin to see but fell asleep halfway through, so Jeongin just went back to his dorm, somewhat relieved to find it empty. Even during his pre-heat, Jeongin needs his space, and he’s still annoyed at how suddenly it hit. The bitterness appears in waves, and right now, he’s wishing that he could have spent today literally any other way. So, Jeongin had boarded himself up in his room and scrolled on his phone until he realised it was getting late, and here he is now, slicking up for no reason at all.
Possibly, Jeongin could eventually fall asleep on his own, but -- he doesn’t think that he wants to, actually. The pack reminds him often that it’s okay to want , even if it could, perhaps, be a burden, because it’s a burden they are willing to shoulder out of love, so Jeongin knows that he doesn’t have to sleep by himself. Still, he is not very good at requesting affection when he wants it, and gives himself a moment to prepare, cringing inwardly already at how uncomfortable it’s going to be to crawl into Minho’s bed and fill himself up.
He almost convinces himself that actually, he does want to just lie in bed for hours, rather than deal with the humiliating ordeal of being an omega, but, since it’s Minho, it will be okay, maybe. Minho-hyung would not hold this against him, or make fun of him, especially this late at night. Though sometimes, Jeongin thinks that would be better than coddling. Tonight, Jeongin probably needs it, though, especially Minho’s scent, the calming lavender to make him drowsy. Jeongin pads down the hallway, quietly, and does not bother knocking on the door when Minho is probably already asleep.
Which, Jeongin finds, he is, when he opens the door to a dark and silent room, and a vaguely Minho-shaped form slumped beneath the covers. He steps around Minho’s bed, to the side where Minho is facing, and gently peels the sheet off of him. Surprisingly, this is not the first time that Jeongin has had to do this, but unsurprisingly, it still causes his heart to catch in his throat, anxious about the prospect of being caught. Even though, when he has been caught, there were never consequences because he always had permission. Quietly, he shucks his shorts and underwear down, leaving them in a pile that Minho will certainly gripe about in the morning.
Since it would be extremely embarrassing for Minho to wake up while he does this, Jeongin gingerly slides into bed next to him, taking care not to jostle the mattress too much. It’s a little bit of a tight fit, considering that it isn’t like they can have very large beds, but it’s also fine because Jeongin is going to have to be close for this. At least Minho doesn’t have to be undressed, as Jeongin does. He scoots until he can feel Minho’s breath fan across his skin, then tentatively slips his hand beneath Minho’s waistband, and pulls him out of his underwear. Minho, of course, is not hard, but he will need to be at least a little bit for Jeongin to properly warm him, so Jeongin releases him to take his plug out and collect the slick gathered at his rim. The plug joins his clothes on the floor, which will likely get him in even more trouble but, whatever. This is more important, he thinks, and either way, he can’t be assed with the effort.
Jeongin uses his wet, sticky fingers to work over Minho’s cock, stroking languidly, so as to not wake him. When Minho chubs up, thick enough to not slip out of Jeongin’s hole, he squirms closer, places his leg gently over his hip, and lines himself up. It would be easier if Minho were awake, to hold him still and slide home, though Jeongin is a little proud of his independence. Makes him feel a little less pathetic when he’s allowed to take from his alphas, too.
It takes some awkward maneuvering of his hips, but Jeongin does, eventually, get Minho’s cock nearly all the way inside of him. He feels a little silly now that he’s done it, sort of like, ‘What now?’. Jeongin has done all of this work, just to lie here, which was the point of course, but still. Probably, he just needs to go to sleep. The stretch around Minho’s dick is already very satisfying, and still -- Jeongin squirms, needs just a little bit more, until he’s fully seated.
He really does not mean to be annoying about it, or move around so much in general. In fact, waking Minho was exactly what Jeongin was afraid of, and he thought he was doing a good job, until a hand clamps around his hip, pressing into the bruises left by Seungmin, causing Jeongin to cry out. “What are you doing, naughty pup?” Minho asks, voice groggy and rough with sleep, just a bit deeper than usual. It’s -- hot, to hear, whispered into his ear, goosebumps rising on his skin, though Jeongin is a little afraid. Not of Minho’s anger, knowing that he isn’t actually upset but -- of what Minho is going to do.
“I’m --” Jeongin stutters, gasping when Minho forces him further onto his cock, at an angle Jeongin could not reach by himself. “ Hhh , needed to be full again, hyung. ‘M sorry.” he apologises, though those don’t ever get him out of anything. Minho rolls his hips, groaning quietly. His hand travels, slips underneath Jeongin’s sleepshirt to scratch his back soothingly, juxtaposed by the way he fucks deeply into Jeongin.
“Of course,” Minho says, sits up enough to remove his arm from underneath his own body, and tucks Jeongin’s face into his throat, level with his scent gland. Jeongin inhales greedily, letting the scent of lavender and sage fog the figurative windows inside of his head. “My poor, poor, pup. Needs hyung to put him to sleep, poor baby.” There it is, the coddling. It weighs heavy in Jeongin’s gut, and warms his chest, butterflies erupting. He whines wordlessly, wiggles farther into Minho’s hold, and he’s lucky that it’s so dark.
Minho continues to fuck Jeongin sleepily, a nice, steady pace considering the fact that Minho had just woken up. It’s surely on purpose, too, because the intention is not really to raw Jeongin until he can’t breathe, but exactly what Minho had said -- put him to sleep. “My little Iyenie, baby,” Minho continues. “You can go to sleep. Hyung will take care of you, promise.” Not that Jeongin had ever assumed Minho wouldn’t when Minho does nothing else but take care of him.
If anything, out of all of them, Jeongin trusts Minho’s words the most. If Seungmin had said that, well -- it would have been an entire lie. What Jeongin does not expect, however, is Minho’s fingers to leave Jeongin’s back, two of them dipping past his rim without much resistance, stretching him further than he had been, today. They leave as quickly as they had pushed inside. “ Hyung ?” He squeaks, very surprised, and then a wet palm wraps around his cock, which is less surprising, but still unexpected. Jeongin didn’t actually intend to get off, but apparently, Minho has already made plans.
Minho, who shushes him, rocking his hips steadily into Jeongin, while he tugs firmly at his cock. Jeongin can’t do very much besides tangling his fingers in Minho’s hair and whimper, fighting between spearing himself on Minho’s dick and thrusting up into his fist. “If I tire you out, you’ll sleep well, pup,” explains Minho, eventually, after Jeongin is already wetting Minho’s bare shoulder with salty tears and spit. “Whenever you want, you can come. Hyung won't be mad.”
“Hhh,” Jeongin breathes, squeezing his thigh over Minho’s hip. It’s become so much, the pleasure, and the sensation of his raw hole being used once more. He does want to let go, thrust his heart into Minho’s hands for safekeeping, but -- “What about you, hyung?”
Minho giggles, cutely. “Don’t worry about hyung. After you sleep, I’ll take care of myself.” His cock twitches, hole fluttering, and Minho giggles again. Jeongin is needy, but not so far gone as to miss the implication of Minho doing right back what Jeongin tried to do to him. The promise of getting his hyung off, even in his sleep, is enough to placate Jeongin, who would have felt bad if he did all of this without Minho getting to come, too, even if Minho had assured him it was alright to take and not give back sometimes.
“Okay, hyung,” he whispers, wraps his arm around Minho’s body and clutches onto him tightly. Very rarely, does Jeongin have the urge to crawl into someone else’s skin, but he’s just so -- sleepy, now, Minho’s scent doing wonders, and craving closeness. Even if they’re pressed together, every inch of skin touching, it is not enough for Jeongin’s omega to feel satisfied. Not a single atom should come between them. Almost as if he is reading Jeongin’s mind, Minho tugs Jeongin as close as possible, and tightens his fist around Jeongin’s cock, the extra pressure there to drive it all home.
When Jeongin comes, it hits him harder than any of his other orgasms, and he has to sink his teeth into Minho’s scent gland so that he doesn’t cry out too loud and wake the entire dorm, and possibly, their neighbours. So intense, that he can’t breathe, and is afraid for a moment that he might actually pass out. Minho grits his teeth and fucks him through his orgasm, pumping his cock with each throb of it, as Jeongin spills over his hand. Not wanting to overstimulate Jeongin, not now, when he’s so tired, Minho pauses his movements, as if Jeongin can’t feel how solid his dick is, in his ass, or the way it spasmed when Jeongin had bit him. Instead, he holds Jeongin firmly, solidly, grounding. A selfless hyung, in the face of his baby’s pleasure.
As soon as Jeongin catches his breath, he rocks his hips a little, hissing at the overstimulation, but he would endure it for his hyung, despite his sudden exhaustion, who took care of him as he promised he would. Minho, though, stops him and presses a soothing kiss to his hair. “Jeongin-ah,” he scolds gently. “I told you I was okay, pup. Listen to hyung. Go to sleep.” Minho shifts, readjusting them, and the calming scratches along his back begin again.
For once in his life, Jeongin does not argue. Of course, as always, Minho was correct -- coming did drain the restless energy right out of him, another dam breaking. He droops on top of Minho, no longer attempting to prop himself up in any sort of position, and Minho holds him easily, without complaint. “Thank you, hyung,” Jeongin says softly, sleepily. Out of everyone, Minho deserves it the most.
“Always,” Minho replies, quiet, and maybe even speaks more, can feel the rumble from his chest but Jeongin does not catch the words. Now that he’s not so worked up, it’s difficult to keep himself from drifting off and Jeongin is too fucked out to care. So, ultimately, he passes, soothed by lavender, and Minho’s gentle touches.
🐺
“Next time, you’re going to listen to your alpha, aren’t you?” Chan does say eventually, halfway draped over Jeongin’s limp body, while they wait for his knot to deflate. It is the very tail end of his early heat, where Jeongin is no longer sobbing and begging for a knot, but still needs it, wants it. He heaves a long, exhausted, and annoyed sigh. Chan laughs, pressing his thumb against the raised tissue of his mating mark across the back of Jeongin’s neck.
A quiet reminder that Chan
is
Jeongin’s alpha, scarred and claimed as proof, and he does, usually, know best.
Apparently
.