Chapter Text
It’s Jimin who points the alpha out to him. “Don’t say I never did you any favors,” his best friend teases, eyes narrowed at him. Seokjin playfully flicks at one of his earrings, a sparkling dangle that Jimin never needed to catch attention.
“You say that as if you’ve had any luck yet,” Seokjin replies breezily, because he isn’t convinced of Jimin’s assurances that he’s found the perfect candidate for him. The soiree that Jimin brought him to was one more inline with his friend’s profession - an early release party for an indie film that Jimin guest starred in.
“I told you - I’ve found the one,” Jimin replies, dragging Seokjin across the crowded floor of whatever rented out rooftop bar they’re in. “He’s just your type!” Seokjin of five years ago would have loved being here; Seokjin of now is over it before they step foot on the floor.
But, he’s come here on a mission. He put on his most alluring all pink outfit, the kind that alphas go absolutely nuts over because it enhances his most omega wiles or whatever they think. He has his favorite jade earrings on for good luck, and he intentionally hasn’t showered for the past three days, a rough endeavor when he’s still trying to look his best, but it’s all for this.
Every head turns as he walks by.
He knows he smells good.
He smells ripe.
“Jesus, it’s like I’ve never scented you during preheat before,” Jimin mumbles. “Nor has any single person in this bar smelled a preheat omega, apparently.”
Someone whistles at them as they cross, even one handsy alpha tries to grab at Seokjin’s waist, but he’s too practiced for such a maneuver, easily side stepping. He isn’t here for just any alpha - he’s here for the alpha.
Jimin stops him at the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “There he is.” He nods out across a lot of people. “He’s the tallest one in that group on the railing. Do you see?”
Seokjin sees. Oh, does he see. Tall and big as a tree, fine alpha attributes certainly. Seokjin only sees the barest glimpse of his side profile until someone calls out to him. When the alpha in question turns to face the newcomer, Seokjin sees a handsome enough face.
Dimples, when he smiles.
Seokjin wouldn’t mind dimples.
Jimin slides behind him and massages his shoulders. “Pretty, isn’t he?”
“Pretty isn’t good enough.” Seokjin crosses his arms. He can’t let Jimin see him interested. “He’s in the film industry?”
“I think he consulted for something. A writer. He isn’t an above the line name, but.” Jimin pauses for emphasis. “There were intense whispers about him.”
“Tell me.”
“Top of his class at SNU.”
Seokjin grins.
“Animal lover, has a dog, as evidenced by the white dog hair he wore to a meeting.”
Perfect.
“I personally saw him stop to help a little girl trying to climb down from a tree.”
Seokjin purrs. Jimin leans into his ear so his breath tickles. “Supposedly he had his first book deal before he graduated.”
Several heads turn to face them. Ah - Seokjin must be putting it all out there in his scent now. He turns to slowly face Jimin; his friend returns the knowing smile. “He’s perfect.”
“I know.” Jimin might smell more smug than Seokjin smells aroused. “Go get him, tiger.”
He smacks Seokjin on the ass, which draws even more eyes. The people dancing their way in their direction can hardly help themselves. “You deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine, Chim. I’ll see you later.”
They separate with a brief kiss on the cheek - normally, they’d scent each other in parting, but Seokjin can’t have another omega sticking to him right now. The people in between him and what he wants pull and push in waves, some drifting towards him while others part to make room for him. Seokjin doesn’t look away from his prize.
He sees the way the man laughs with his entire body, shoulders shaking and dimples deepening. Oh good, he has nice teeth too. What lovely alpha fangs.
The intensity of his gaze, or that of every head watching Seokjin approach, causes the man to turn right as he reaches him. “Hi,” Seokjin breathes out. He knows he has a seductive voice. Everyone under the sun who has met him has told him that.
“Uh, hi?” the alpha replies, eyebrows furrowed. Hm. A lack of confidence, Seokjin wonders. Or perhaps he is the last modest alpha left anywhere in the business.
Different alphas respond to different needs. Seokjin decides to reassess his powerful strut over. “Oh.” He wobbles. Immediately, the man’s two hands catch him, high enough on his hips that it’s still respectful, but it’s precisely where Seokjin wants those hands.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, lifting his voice a little. Whiny. Some alphas love whiny. This one’s eyes are beginning to dilate, so he must be on the right track. “I’m a little -”
He’s going to say drunk, but the alpha grunts out, “Heat.” A one worded answer from an alpha that Jimin assured him had a brain. Seokjin has to give him some benefit of the doubt though - alpha brains are wired to be one way streets when in proximity to an omega in heat, and judging by his physical reaction, they must be compatible.
Perfect.
Seokjin has to stomp down his purr.
“I’m fine, alpha. It’s just preheat.” Seokjin makes himself look even smaller to peer up at him through his fringe. The alpha frowns.
“You should be home and resting, don’t you think?” He even reaches for Seokjin’s face - to check for a fever?
Check mark for attentiveness. Seokjin could smile. “Really, I’m alright. I’m here to support a friend.”
The alpha nods, but Seokjin sees the tense lock of his jaw. Trying not to be affected when he is. “Do you mind if I wait here with you? He’s busy doing - industry stuff, or whatever it is.” He even minutely leans against the alpha to brush some of his scent on him, but the way the guy tightens his hold on the one hip?
“That might be best,” he replies. Seokjin sees what he sees - a room full of hungry eyes. Not a single soul in this place would ever tell Seokjin he can’t be here; that kind of rhetoric around omegas needing to spend their entire heat in solitude went out the window almost a generation ago. Still.
Alphas will be alphas, as they say.
Seokjin introduces himself, blinking up slowly at the alpha. He hears the tiniest curse come out of this guy’s mouth before he drags Seokjin back to rest them against the railing. Seokjin lets his feet drag.
“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name, or do you prefer to be called alpha?” Seokjin asks, voice thick, eyes heavy. He doesn’t blame the man for taking a long pause to answer. He’s already got the alpha’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, his fingers grazing his exposed collarbones from the plunging top Seokjin chose.
All Seokjin has to do is reel him in now.
“Namjoon,” alpha tells him. Hmmm. Namjoon is a fitting name for a mountain of an alpha. Namjoon is even more handsome up close; just where did Jimin find this guy exactly? His scent is heavy, growing heavier by the minute to cover Seokjin’s naturally and ward off other alphas, and it’s somewhere between earthy and a dark roast coffee, not something that would be appealing to Seokjin on its own but on an alpha has never bothered him.
On this alpha? Delectable.
“Wanna keep me entertained while I wait, Namjoon-ssi?”
Namjoon gulps. “You can - you can drop formalities, if you prefer. In this context I don’t think they’re needed.”
Clever boy. Seokjin likes him. “And what context is that?”
“You’re coming onto me, are you not?” He looks a little unsure of himself, and for no reason. Seokjin could not have made this easier on the guy if he tried.
“What would you do if I was?”
“You’re in heat.”
“Preheat,” Seokjin corrects. “Surely an alpha like you wouldn’t strip me of my autonomy and right to choose what I do when I am still of completely clear and rational mind?”
Namjoon looks a little taken aback; his eyes are completely dilated black, but they grow even wider so Seokjin can see the whites of them. Cute, Seokjin thinks. He’s both handsome and cute.
What a catch.
Seokjin leans away far enough that Namjoon stumbles a little over his own feet to keep a hold on him. He doesn’t let doesn’t Seokjin fall, he doesn’t move his hands higher or lower. He does get a spectacular view down the front of his shirt, no doubt.
“I’m going to entertain myself, then.” Seokjin makes sure to length his neck. He picked out a matching jade pendant that hangs perfectly between his collarbones. He’s eye-catching, his neck is eye-catching.
He’s made to catch Namjoon’s eye.
Namjoon lets him go, but Seokjin feels his eyes on him as he departs. Immediately, there is a small sea of people to welcome him on the dance floor. Not all are dancing, but everyone drinks and smokes and the few that want to get closest to him sway like they want to dance. They press in close - close enough that they swipe Seokjin’s scent off him and erase Namjoon’s in the process.
It isn’t until someone’s hands find his hips that he smells Namjoon’s arrival. Seokjin closes his eyes, leans his head back, and smiles to himself.
The top of his head meets the expanse of a broad chest.
It’s the just right chest.
Seokjin finally found it.
“Back off,” Namjoon growls at the alpha in front of Seokjin, the one who was touching him. Namjoon’s hands replace those on his hips. Seokjin keeps swaying to the music, feigning nonchalance. “He’s spoken for.”
Seokjin wipes the grin off his face before he turns in Namjoon’s arms to loop his around the alpha’s neck. The woman posturing from before takes the hint, dissolving into the crowd. They give the two of them a little more room.
“I knew I’d get you to dance with me,” Seokjin says in Namjoon’s ear, curling his fingers around the collar of the alpha’s shirt.
“Doesn’t seem like you’re able to entertain yourself very well,” Namjoon replies, frowning.
“Can’t blame them.”
“No, I can’t.”
Namjoon either isn’t much of a dancer or he’s too on edge to try; Seokjin knows the kind of pheromones he’s putting out do nothing to relax alphas, and the longer Namjoon stays in this close proximity to him the more frenzied he will become. Surely a smart guy like him knows that, so surely it means he’s willing.
With flare, Seokjin spins back around so he can grind his ass back into the alpha. Boner check - double check. And oh - it feels like a lovely package too. Seokjin can only imagine what it’s going to look like out in the open later.
Namjoon growls. It’s quiet, but they’re close enough Seokjin hears it over the music and loud chatter of people shouting over it.
“Come on, alpha. Let loose. It’s okay,” Seokjin teases him.
“You’re in preheat,” Namjoon barks out, teeth close to nipping his neck the way Seokjin splays himself across his chest. He doesn’t seem to protest the way he swivels his hips to rub at him though.
“And? Are you saying you wouldn’t be attracted to me if I wasn’t preheat? Or are you still trying to convince me of my own mind?” Seokjin slowly takes Namjoon’s hands and guides them down his thighs and back up. He moves one inwards, cupping it around where he’s wet in front.
Namjoon snarls, face dropping fully into Seokjin’s neck with his mouth open, as if to bite. Maybe he rests his teeth in the skin. Maybe Seokjin imagines he can feel the saliva there, a temporary marking.
Maybe he likes it.
They stand frozen like that until a raucous amount of laughter startles the alpha, his hands jerking and tightening on Seokjin. He picks up his head, but Seokjin sees the way his nostrils flare in his periphery. “You’re affecting a lot of people being out like this,” he says, but he hooks a finger in the top of his shirt and tugs.
“I told you - I came to support my friend.”
“Right.” Namjoon’s face is quietly neutral now. There’s no benign smile or tense frustration. When he slides his hand up, it slides under the shirt. Seokjin feels the dewiness on the tips of his fingers that came from him.
He swirls a fingertip around his navel a few leisurely times then sticks it in. The alpha doesn’t have to do anything more for Seokjin to feel the tuck on the pit of his stomach.
He feels his slick creep out into his panties. If it didn’t defeat his purpose, normally Seokjin would clamp his thighs together and relish the thought of things to come, but he came here for a reason, and his window of time is closing.
Seokjin takes Namjoon’s hand and moves it, just barely, so it rests over the lowest part of his stomach. Flat. It’s flat there. Namjoon growls once.
“Although, they’d understand,” Seokjin adds.
“Understand?”
“My friend. If I needed to leave early.” Seokjin cranes his neck to meet Namjoon’s eyes. “You wanna make sure I get home alright, alpha?
“I don’t -” Namjoon inhales deeply, then swallows down all that excess saliva. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea. I promise you,” Seokjin leans in so his lips touch ear, “I know what I want. I’m in complete control still. I want you to take me home.”
It takes some convincing still; Seokjin drags Namjoon off the dance floor, winking at Jimin as he goes by from afar, but the alpha comes to a stuttering stop once, then twice. All Seokjin has to do to convince him to follow the pied piper is grind back on him, a promise of what’s to come.
Seokjin has never felt this desperate for an alpha.
One handed, he orders a car while pushing Namjoon against the wall around a nearby corner so he can finally taste him. Namjoon groans when Seokjin shoves him back and kisses him just as roughly. The grip on his hips might sear him.
“Are you sure?” Namjoon continues to ask, and Seokjin continues to roll his eyes.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure, you great big modern alpha of the twenty-first century. You have my full and enthusiastic consent, now let’s go.” Seokjin tugs him down in the backseat of the car; their driver rolls down the windows fully. It’s a bit chilly for that, so Seokjin shivers, and Namjoon unbuttons his collared shirt to offer it to him because he wears no jacket.
Seokjin plans to keep it for his nest.
“Thought you wanted me to take you home,” Namjoon says in the column of his throat when they exit the car in front of a hotel.
Seokjin has no strings attached to his part of town, but he’s stayed there before, knows the suite he reserved just in case. It won’t do when he’s fully in heat, but for preheat, with a ready alpha, it will be perfect to keep things simple.
“I want you to fuck me,” Seokjin says simply. “But first, I want to look at you.”
Namjoon has proven, or so he thinks, that he isn’t a Neanderthal alpha, so he doesn’t protest that it should be the other way around, that the alpha inspects the omega. As soon as they’re in the room with the door locked behind them, Seokjin walks out in front of him and says, “Strip.”
Smirking, Namjoon peels off his measly undershirt not hiding anything to reveal a well defined chest.
Shit.
If this wasn’t all about one thing, Namjoon would be just Seokjin’s type to date, but he isn’t looking for a date.
“Pants.” His mouth waters watching. The tent in the slacks is prominent already, and Namjoon makes it a real show for him the way he slides the zipper down over the bulge. He’s wearing a pair of fitted boxer briefs under his pants, the tip of his cock peeking out the waistband when he bends over to step out of them.
Under normal circumstances, Seokjin would do anything to have that beautiful alpha dick in his mouth. He’d suck on that for hours, but not tonight. Tonight, not a single drop will be spared. It’s all going inside him.
“You want to join me, or are you quite satisfied watching?” Namjoon asks. The cords in his throat twitch. He looks a little less cocky undressed, which is frankly ridiculous with what he’s packing and the fact it doesn’t waver at all in the cool air.
“What I want is to do this.” Seokjin steps up to him and teases a finger along the waistband, bumping over the tip. “You’ll be good for me, right, alpha?”
“Whatever you want,” Namjoon promises. “Whatever you need.”
God, he must be reciting some alpha handbook now. It makes Seokjin impatient; he snaps the waistband against Namjoon’s stomach before peeling them off too.
Namjoon’s cock bobs up.
It’s glorious.
“Put all of your clothing on the bed,” Seokjin demands, side stepping Namjoon’s hands when they reach for him. Seokjin tugs his top out of his waistband and only just steps out of his shoes. He takes off his blouse and fans it out in the stale, sterilized air of the room to spread himself, then tosses it on the bed where there is nothing but a generic looking comforter. “Now.”
Namjoon chuckles. Seokjin bristles, waiting for the jab, the joke that he must be in full heat now, but it never comes. Bossy, they always call him. Demanding. Too demanding.
That’s just Seokjin.
He can undress himself and he doesn’t need to make a show of it the same way the alpha did. With every layer that comes off, his scent unfurls tenfold. Namjoon growls on the bed, sitting back on top of his discarded items. Seokjin adds his to the bed - it isn’t a nest, but it will do for the night or two if he’s lucky and he can stretch this.
If he checked his phone, he knows he would find himself in the peak window right about now, but the more knots he can wring out of the alpha the better. Insurance.
Now Seokjin can crawl onto the bed and push Namjoon flat on his back. Namjoon. A handsome name for a handsome alpha, but he might as well forget it. Beneath him, the alpha lets out an audibly shaking breath.
“You’re stunning,” he says quietly. It sounds a touch too romantic for Seokjin.
“And you’re hung like a horse, alpha.” Seokjin swings his legs over Namjoon’s waist, sitting mid chest on him so his cock brushes up against his back. Seokjin reaches back to ignore the alpha dick - he’ll get to that shortly - fingers brushing against his entrance. He stretched earlier, but not to take a Herculean dick, so he needs more.
A gentle touch against him shocks him. “Let me,” Namjoon requests. Gone is the smirk from his eyes.
“Unnecessary. I’m the only one who can make sure I’m stretched to my comfort, thank you.”
“But you can tell me, can’t you?” Namjoon gently penetrates him with one finger, and feeling him out, adds a second relatively quickly. Seokjin gasps, catching himself on Namjoon’s shoulders. He leaks in earnest on this alpha’s lap now.
Namjoon is so gentle, he feels -
“Like silk,” Namjoon whispers, thrusting three fingers in and out.
“Ah! Ah, just,” Seokjin wiggles around. He isn’t uncomfortable, but he is in preheat, and now that there is an alpha underneath him, he isn’t feeling particularly patient. He reaches behind to add two of his own fingers next to the alpha’s and then he does wince from the burn, but he needs the prep, more than he needs that alpha knot right now.
“Okay, okay.” Seokjin pulls his fingers out and taps at Namjoon’s wrist. “I’m ready, I’m ready.”
Or, he thinks he’s ready. For months this has been the plan, carefully tracking his heats and ovulation, mentally hurdling over the fact he’s doing this all on his own. Really, this moment has been in the making for years, and all the alphas that came before Namjoon led him to this. It isn’t what he used to dream of, but Seokjin knows what he wants, and he deserves to move ahead with what he wants.
He has options. Seokjin turned thirty this year, but he has so much more to do, he has a support network in place.
He doesn’t need an alpha.
Other than for this part.
He takes Namjoon in hand. “Baby,” Namjoon rumbles. Seokjin blinks up at him - who is he calling baby? “Let’s get a condom-”
“Don’t you wanna breed me full, alpha?” Seokjin asks, nuzzling his face up Namjoon’s chest while squeezing his cock. He purrs the loudest he’s ever purred. Namjoon’s resisting hand on top of his falls away to cup Seokjin’s arms. “I’m preheat, alpha, I want your knot and I want all of it.”
“Seokjin-”
It’s strange, hearing his name from the alpha, but infinitely better than baby. “Namjoon. Alpha.” He purrs and he purrs and he rubs his scent in. Before further objection, he sinks down on top of the cock in his hand. “There - that’s better, isn’t it?”
He feels stuffed full just like this, no knot and no cum. Normally, he might be apprehensive about continuing, might ask for the alpha to slow down only for them to be the one making excuses, but tonight he has to push forward. He can’t give Namjoon too much time or space to think. Work him into a frenzy. It shouldn’t be hard.
It’s not a bad feeling; he’s about to get what he wants.
It’s just a tad uncomfy as well.
“Come on, alpha. What’s all this for, huh?” Seokjin goads, just a little, because Namjoon holds still beneath him. “All this cock and you don’t know what to do with it?”
He flashes his teeth at that; most alphas would be so desperate to prove themselves they’d be two thrusts from popping their knots. Namjoon hisses.
Seokjin switches tactics. “Will you leave me wanting? I-” he lets out a desperate little cry. “Hurts.”
Which, it does. Hurt. Preheat ranges from controlled, sustained horniness to the frequent need to eat his body weight in chips and chocolate, but it also can be quite painful, and without the fugue state that is full heat, Seokjin can’t escape it.
He wouldn’t ever tell an alpha that normally though. What could he possibly hope to gain from that?
Namjoon though.
Namjoon delivers.
“I got you.” His voice is soft - Jimin told him that Namjoon was a consultant, below the line, he wouldn’t be something like a voice actor, but he could be. He would be a wonderful narrator. He could read all the children’s books in the world in that velveteen voice and hypnotize adults all the same.
Grunting, Seokjin braces himself and moves faster up and down Namjoon’s length. He doesn’t need to think like that. It doesn’t matter what he sounds like, like Namjoon might be the most patient alpha in the world with a demanding pup-
Seokjin wretches himself off Namjoon’s dick with a shuddering cry. Immediately, Namjoon sits up and crowds over him, asking what’s wrong, if he hurt him. Seokjin shakes his head. Between his legs, he’s damp and slick all the way down to his knees. “Like this now,” he says, getting on all fours and presenting like the good bitch he was always told to be. “It’s better like this, right?”
“Baby.”
There he goes again calling him baby.
“Come on, alpha.” Seokjin really does need it now. They’ve been alone for long enough that Namjoon affects him almost as much as he affects the alpha in heat. His stomach squeezes itself, a dull throb between his legs. He puts a hand to his lower tummy and imagines his womb there, cradling it.
He’ll get the job done.
Simultaneously, he spreads his legs while arching his back. He closes his eyes and fantasizes about precum - precum of all things, because the way Namjoon smells he’s definitely leaking already, and some of it must be inside of him already.
“Did you get your knot wet enough? Are you going to leave me in pain like this?” he whimpers. “Where’d all the bravado go, hm?”
He suddenly wishes Namjoon showed the same bravado as all the others; it was never there to begin with, but he could imagine it in the playful smirk on Namjoon’s face when they arrived, or that first smile at the party. It’s easier, because that’s what Seokjin knows, and he knows how to handle it. This reluctant alpha thing is getting old. They all have parts to play. Seokjin thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at playing his part.
Namjoon rubs himself between Seokjin’s folds before reaching around to thumb at Seokjin’s stiff omegan cock. They both moan. “Let me get my mouth on you. I wanna taste you,” Namjoon says, nuzzling into his neck.
“Later! After you knot me, I promise - I promise I’ll give you so much more, alpha, just please, knot me!” Seokjin is desperate. He sounds desperate. He feels the way Namjoon hesitates even more, a big hand on the nape of his hand gently kneading.
“Are you sure you aren’t in full heat? Because if you are, maybe we should stop-”
“Do you want to trust and believe omegas, or do you just want to pretend you do to make yourself feel better at night, alpha?”
Namjoon freezes behind him; Seokjin wonders if he’s about to get off the bed and walk out the door.
Instead, Namjoon gently gives his cock a tug, then leans his weight over Seokjin’s back as he penetrates him from behind. Seokjin sighs, closing his eyes. Like this, he doesn’t need to put on a show with his face, his moans. He mutely lets Namjoon thrust in him.
This is what he wants, he tells himself. He’s getting exactly what he wants. No strings attached.
There’s a pinch that flares suddenly into a burn. Namjoon’s knot expands. “Are you okay?” he asks, but he doesn’t stop thrusting.
“P-perfect, ah ah!” Dropping his head between his hands, Seokjin braces himself. A knot outside of heat, even in preheat, is always painful. Sure he’s stretched well enough for Namjoon’s massive dick, but he’s sure to have a massive knot too.
It’s maybe the only time Seokjin has looked forward to a knot.
When it pops, he cries out. It hurts, it definitely hurts, but he can feel how much cum Namjoon empties inside him, and that makes him smile.
He cradles his stomach.
Namjoon’s hand comes around to rest on top of his.
He can’t really shake him off when they’re knotted together, so Seokjin pats his hand and says, “Good alpha.”
Namjoon chuckles. He’s a cuddler, apparently, and his octopus limbs draw him in, all four at a time. “Is that all you have to say? I hope you weren’t all talk, because I’d still like to taste you.”
Seokjin hums; he’s going to keep this alpha in bed for as long as possible. This first knot was right on time, but the more the merrier in this case, and if the length of time needed for the first one to deflate is any indication, Seokjin will be absolutely full of what he wanted in no time.
Maybe one night will be enough.
And Seokjin has to hand it to him - Namjoon is an alpha of his word in bed. When his knot is completely gone, he’s gentle in pulling out, and gentle in moving Seokjin onto his back when he props up his legs for him and nuzzles face first in between them. When he starts lapping at him, gentle broad strokes that won’t startle or tickle him, Seokjin tries to clamp his legs closed, deliriously thinking of the cum that he wants to stay right where it is.
Namjoon kisses the inside of his upper thigh, then moves to suckle on his dick. He isn’t hard at all again yet, and omegan cocks aren’t enlarged enough to be prominent in any way until they are, but Namjoon works at him. He can tell that Seokjin doesn’t want him eating him out in any other way, so he slides his tongue up and down but all Seokjin can think is he’s licking himself away when Seokjin wants to stay dirty for the first time ever.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’ll give you another knot if you need or want it, okay? Just relax.” Namjoon frowns, fingers skimming his length. Seokjin whimpers when he feels a cramp, right under Namjoon’s resting palm. It’s so big and warm. It could almost double as a heat pack.
“Do you have someone for your full heat?” he asks. He keeps touching Seokjin, and it’s getting progressively less sexual but more - intimate. Seokjin clamps his hands down on top of the alpha’s.
“That’s not your concern,” he says before he can stop himself, but Namjoon only gives him a fleeting sort of softened look.
He nods. “You’re right. I just - if you needed someone, maybe -”
Seokjin steels himself. He will need to get what he needs tonight and get out of here. Nothing more. Nothing longer. “This is a one night only deal, got it?”
Namjoon just needs nodding this small nod, like he understands, but what does he understand? “Well, I’m happy to take the edge off for you,” he says, kissing his thigh again before nosing inward. Seokjin lets him this time, because it might save them from awkward conversation.
He ends up blowing Seokjin, knotting him, then eating him out when Seokjin is too tired and a little desperate for something but he needs a second to recover from the ache in his lower half, but only because he knows Namjoon will knot him again if he asks.
After three knots, Seokjin feels more than stuffed full. It’s early morning now - they’ve been at this for three hours, which is definitely a record for him. His earlier conquests could have never! Honestly, he isn’t sure how Namjoon does it…Three knots? He isn’t even in rut!
Could he even do a fourth? He’s acting like it, or maybe he just loiters. It’s hard to say since they don’t know each other. His unwavering attention makes Seokjin itch; he’s about to throw all of his carefully prepaid plans out the window. No matter what’s taken or not at this point, he has to get out of there, away from this alpha.
This time when he cradles his stomach, he mimes a wince. “It’s getting closer now. I think - I think I need to go home for the rest.”
“Of course.” Namjoon’s smile this time is a little different. He runs a hand through his hair with devastating results. They both need a shower, and there’s no reason for someone to look that good with so many bodily fluids in their hair.
Seokjin stamps down his irritation - physical beauty is part of the package, after all. This is what he wanted.
“Can I make sure you get home safely?” he asks. When he stands from the bed, he gives himself a tug. He isn’t rock hard, but he’s not soft, either. Truly. How does he do it?
“No need.” Seokjin reaches for his phone on the bedside table, waving it at him. “It’s the twenty-first century, remember? I’ll get an omega ride share service for preheat. No problem.”
Namjoon clenches his jaw, maybe to deflect a growl. Some alphas are better at masking than others. Seokjin draws his legs up to cover himself. He doesn’t know this alpha all that well, he keeps repeating to himself, but he knows alphas, and if he has to run out of this suite completely naked, he will.
“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” he says finally. “Can I give you my number? Will you message me when you’re home safely?”
“Sure, big guy, sure.” Seokjin suddenly cannot wait to get out of the room. He isn’t even going to shower. His omega driver will forgive him; they’ll understand. They know what it’s like. He gathers up his clothing, hesitating with Namjoon’s shirt in his hand.
“Keep it,” he says, dimples out on full display. “Phone?”
Seokjin gives it to him; after Namjoon types in his number, he does not demand Seokjin give him his in return right away, and by that point, he’s dressed, ready for escape.
“I know you aren’t looking for anything, but I had a good time,” Namjoon says, still standing there completely nude while he watches Seokjin creep towards the door. “If you change your mind about it being a one-time thing, let me know.”
“Right. Sure. Thanks.” Seokjin hopes to sound dismissive enough that Namjoon knows better, but not so dismissive that he’ll anger him. He’s almost to the door now, phone in hand, app open.
“Bye, Seokjin.” The wave is kinda pathetic, honestly.
“Okay, bye!” he hollers behind him, much too loud for a hotel at four in the morning. On the other side of the door, Seokjin lets out a breath. He did it. He did it!
Well, he won’t know if he truly did it for another two weeks, at minimum, but the hard part is over.
So he thinks.
The waiting is also hard.
In the cabinet next to his bathroom mirror, Seokjin stocks up on tests. He bought some months ago preemptively, loved to open the cabinet and stare at them, but he buys some more. Just in case. Really fresh ones.
Jeongguk beats him to it. “Read it and weep!” he yells, throwing a pregnancy test on top of Taehyung’s lap where he’s trying to knit - something. A blanket, a mini cardigan. Who knows. Seokjin can’t even look at it.
“I can’t believe it,” Jimin says from the kitchen. “I literally cannot believe it.”
“I told you - I could not only get knocked up, but knocked up first!” Jeongguk wiggles around like a puppy, someone who shouldn’t have a puppy inside of him. He is the sole beta of their friend group, and while beta pregnancies were more common now than they were a hundred years ago thanks to better resources, they were still more challenging.
Taehyung dismissively picks up the stick and drops it on the floor. Jeongguk yells, quick to snatch it up. “I’m seven weeks pregnant,” Taehyung announces.
They all freeze.
Then yell.
“What the fuck?”
“What did you say?”
“You didn’t tell me?” Jimin screams loudest of all.
Seokjin laughs; out of all of them, Taehyung might be the most baby crazy. It must have been killing him to keep it a secret. When the four of them talked about this, there were friendly wagers among them, but it was all to mask a nervousness among them. But here they are. It’s been almost a year since they first discussed it.
“Jin hyung! Let’s go take tests too! You never know! We’ve both been busy!” Jimin grabs his hand and pulls him up. They’re at Taehyung and Jimin’s home because the two swore to never live apart again, and apparently they bought out a whole pharmacy of pregnancy tests and prenatal vitamins.
Seokjin doesn’t take one at that moment; he does, however, hold Jimin’s hand when his turns out negative still.
“You just gotta keep working on that alpha, huh?” Seokjin fusses with Jimin’s hair as he leans against him.
“Ah, hyung, I wish you could see how flexible he is!” Jimin sighs. “If I were romantically attracted to alphas, he’d be perfect!”
“Sounds like he’s perfect for right now though, hm?” Seokjin is glad Jimin found an alpha who he’s having fun with; supposedly, this alpha self identified as aromantic before Jimin even had time to express interest, so the two of them have met up a handful of times without any real intention or attachment assigned to it.
According to Jimin.
That was part of their pact - they’d all try and get pregnant around the same time, but no alphas were meant to be a lasting part of their arrangement. None of them had loved the thought of using a sperm bank - for Seokjin, he just needed to see exactly what he was getting in person - so they helped each other carefully plan and track. Offered encouragement when needed.
They weren’t doing anything wrong, they told themselves.
Things like this happen all the time.
It’s just a few days later that Seokjin gives in and takes a test.
Then he takes three more.
They’re all positive.
He did it. It worked.
He’s pregnant.
And no one that he doesn’t want to know will know, including the sire.
The night Seokjin returned home after meeting Namjoon, he never texted. He never even looked at the number, until now. Now, he opens his phone and stares at it. With a silent thanks, Seokjin deletes it.
He opens the group message with Jeongguk, Jimin, and Taehyung.
Three of the four of them.
There is no discussion of sires or alphas post pregnancy announcements. That was never a part of this. This is a group of friends who, very casually in their late twenties and early thirties, decided to make a pregnancy pact. They didn’t want to wait any longer, and they didn’t need anything more than what they had, other than the pups.
And here they are.
Seokjin doesn’t worry about the need of an alpha. His friends will be his coparents, and their kids will all be each other’s siblings. He isn’t worried at all.
Until one day he sits in his office at work cradling his bump at a tidy five months, growing larger by the very minute it seems, when a knock at the door lets him know his next appointment has arrived. He’s excited, because they’ve been hounding this author to agree to a preliminary, one-time freelance project until they can sway him into potentially more. Seokjin’s been a fan for some time, ever since the public put together the dots that the infamous RM of contemporary literature was the same guy drawing children’s illustrations online under a different pseudonym.
Plenty of publishing houses have been after him, and today is Seokjin’s chance to pitch why they’re a great fit. Why he’s a great fit to work with RM.
He has no idea what to expect - RM is reclusive. Doesn’t show his face. Doesn’t have social. No signings. Nothing. He has an agent he works through, a sharp tongued and equally sharp eyed Min Yoongi that Seokjin has had the misfortune of more than one phone call with. It’s like the agent knew how much Seokjin hated being on the phone, like any person of his age, and delighted in not answering his emails.
The man who shows up, walking in after Seokjin’s receptionist with a polite smile on his face, just about knocks Seokjin off his feet.
Because - he knows those dimples.
He’s been quite intimate with them, and they’ve featured heavily in his fantasies of what his child might look like. Every baby is cuter with dimples.
Seokjin just didn’t expect to be confronted with them, face-to-face, at his place of work.
Namjoon takes one look at his face and his smile is gone, washed out into something neutral. Then his eyes inevitably go down, drawn to Seokjin’s protruding stomach, and his mouth goes down with it.
It’s silence between them, his receptionist long gone, but Seokjin can almost hear the math Namjoon calculates in his head.