Chapter Text
Jimin doesn’t really have much hope as he leans back against the bar, letting his miniskirt ride up a little too far and crossing his legs at the ankles. He has been here before, too many times without any luck, but it’s a good club.
The entrance fee for alphas is high enough for them to act within the rules and the bartender has never once charged him for anything he drinks, no matter if he orders it himself.
Jimin is the posterchild for their perfect bargoer. He dresses pretty and smiles easily. He comes often and he rarely leaves alone. He knows for a fact there’s at least half a dozen alphas who only come to this club in particular because they know Jimin does.
But it doesn't help. No matter how short the skirt, big the fishnets, or sharp the eyeliner, no one will help him. All they can offer is a slow, missionary knotting and a few sappy love confessions. Jimin doesn't even come half the time- and one time the absolute loser of an alpha had suggested lube.
Jimin had made him watch while he got himself off and left for Taehyung’s place immediately after. (Taehyung may not have a knot, as is with omegas, but he is good at listening and blowjobs. Also, his nest is almost too pretty. Jimin considers trying to move in at least twice a day.)
But tonight, Jimin wants a knot. Jimin wants a hard, good fuck, and a thick knot. There is only one sub gender that can give him that.
Unfortunately, alphas generally think Jimin to be too weak and fragile. His hole is too tight for their big knots and his ass is too soft for pain. Fuck, most of them can't even make themselves talk- too scared to somehow hurt his feelings. He is trapped in an endless cycle of hope and despair, boring orgasms, and crying in Taehyung’s perfect nest.
But tonight will be different. Jimin will look too pretty and sexy and some perfect alpha will pick him up, take him home, and scratch that itch inside him. The one no one has even come close to.
Unfortunately, Jimin stays at the bar a little too long, waiting for his prince charming to arrive, and by the early night he’s kneeled over on the bathroom floor, panting into his ruined shirt.
Fuck. How will he even get home?
His body is a bit numb and his eyes blurry. There’s something weird and probably gross sticking to the side of his leg and his mouth tastes of angry vomit. He can't even seem to navigate his phone properly, everything is just a blur of light and tears and he keeps accidentally opening the notes app and getting distracted by a picture of a cat he had accidentally downloaded- and because he had set the notes to default for PDFs it had been sent straight-
Fuck.
Jimin is crying. His nose was getting stuffed and his eyes are blurry and there’s a thick headache building up behind his eyes. He can practically feel the distressed pheromones pumping out of his neck, the entire club will probably be at the door in seconds- but there is only one set of footsteps.
A gentle, fruity alpha scent wafting in the air, curling around Jimin's throbbing scull and making things a little fuzzier, but in a better way. He can breathe. Alpha is here.
"Hello, omega," The alpha kneels at Jimin's side. He is big. His shoulders are probably twice the width of Jimin's and even when sitting on the floor, he is tall. Jimin leans into his side without thinking. He smells good.
"What's your name, omega?"
The alpha makes a soft sound, slipping long fingers into Jimin’s hair, sending shivers all the way down his spine-
The hand tightens. Jimin freezes. Oh god.
"What's your name?"
"Jimin." The sound is weak. Jimin is weak.
The hand releases. Thick alpha pheromones pressed in around them.
Pleased. Alpha is pleased.
Jimin thinks he might be purring, despite his earlier misery. This alpha smells so good. He is pleased. Maybe he even wants Jimin. Jimin wants him to want Jimin. Badly.
"Let's get you up, okay? You just tell me if you have to be sick again," The alpha moves slowly, pulling Jimin onto shaky feet and tucking him under a thick arm. "And I will take care of it. Seokjin-alpha will take care of it, okay?"
Jimin nodded, pressing his face into the side of Seokjin’s chest. Alpha will take care of it.
Outside the bathroom there is somehow only one man, even though Jimin is sure he had heard more earlier.
The man is somehow even bigger than Seokjin, bulky and pretty and smelling like protective alpha. He’s dressed in a casual suit, bulging biceps curled over his chest and staring out at the hall.
Jimin gets just a little wet.
"We're taking him." The new man says, and Seokjin hums noncommittally.
"He's shitfaced."
Jimin whines. That’s mean. Jimin isn't shitfaced, he’s just a little drunk and a little sad and a little horny. It’s becoming increasingly clear that he wants to, at some point in this lifetime, climb at least one of these alphas, and that right now is a pretty good time- alcohol aside.
He curls fingers around Seokjin’s arm (and fuck it’s so big he can barely get a grip) and pulls himself a little closer, blinking up at him wish his best approximation of Taehyung’s puppy eyes. Seokjin smells so nice and warm. Like strawberries or cake or maybe just alpha. The nurturing, gentle kind.
The other alpha doesn't smell like that at all. He is... forest-y. Like he stepped right out of the woods- rough and protective and dangerous. But not to Jimin. Jimin kind of wants to sit in his lap- maybe even nap there. Just for a little bit, so his head can clear up...
"Alright." Seokjin gives in, looking dejectedly down at Jimin’s upturned face, and then there are strong arms under Jimin's butt and he is no longer touching the floor. Fuck.
His alpha is so strong. Jimin will never have to walk again.
-
The cool tip of a metal straw presses between Jimin's lips, forcing him out of that pleasant space between awake and asleep.
He is laying in the most wonderful, softest, best smellingest nest. He would have thought it was Taehyung’s if it wasn't for that little detail of alpha scent. The most wonderful, warm, protective alpha scent.
It's complex. Everywhere. Jimin has not been directly scented, he would have been able to feel that, but he spent the night in a marinade of musky, sweet, safe and it has stuck onto his skin. Onto his brain. He wants it stuck there.
"Drink, omega."
Jimin takes a sip from the straw. OmegaAdd- water. Sweet, milky juice, with added nutritional value for omegas in heat. And it’s the good stuff. Jimin can barely taste that it’s not empty milk, and if he had had any other taste in his mouth he is sure he wouldn't have noticed at all.
"Good boy,"
Jimin's eyes shoot open and- oh my fucking god.
There is a god. Or an angel. An alpha made of art and love, with plush lips and warm, dark, deep eyes. His shoulders are impossibly broad, hiding Jimin from the room simply by leaning forward, and his hands are big around the glass cup, knobby and pretty and simply begging to replace Jimin's favorite butt plug. It’s the alpha from last night. Seokjin.
"Hi."
His eyebrow rise in an impossibly attractive way. "Hello."
"Did we mate last night?"
His eyebrows somehow rise even higher. His forehead must be huge under those dark, luscious bangs. "No, we did not."
Well fuck, then. Seokjin has a mating mark and it’s not Jimin's. He is going to cry. It’s over. Jimin is going to be alone and underfucked forever. He is going to grow old in Taehyung’s nest, eating only strange looking tomatoes and round cheese with too much flavor for proper bites. This is the end.
"He awake?"
There’s another person in the doorway. Or maybe a marble statue with a soul- because holy fuck. He is handsome. He is pretty. Buff and tall and looking so so soft in a set of worn pajamas- and dimples. The man has fucking dimples.
Jimin is going to cry about that too, as soon as he’s done with the no-mate crying.
He steps into the room, closing the door behind himself, and thereby sending a waft of his scent Jimin's way and- oh. That’s why the scent in this nest is so complex. It’s two.
This is Jimin's alpha's mate- and Jimin needs him too. Needs them both. Fuck, he is never leaving this nest.
"Hello, Jimin," The newly arrived alpha smiles, not considering Jimin’s heart health at all, and sits down on the edge of the bed, glancing up at his mate before introducing himself. "I am Namjoon, and this is my mate, Seokjin. Do you remember last night?"
"Should I?" Jimin's back isn't hurting and his hole definitely doesn't feel used at all- hell, he doesn't even have the faintest taste of cum in his mouth- it feels as if he has somehow even brushed his teeth before bed.
Seokjin shakes his head a little. "Nothing dramatic happened. Let's have breakfast."
To Jimin's utter delight, he is not expected to walk. They don’t even ask. The blanket is simply pulled away, and as if it is as natural as breathing, Namjoon picks him up and holds him against his incredible chest all the way through the most luxurious apartment Jimin has ever been in, and into a large kitchen.
Once there, Namjoon sits down in one of the bar chairs and pulls Jimin's legs over to one side, allowing him to sit comfortably leaned against Namjoon’s arm and looking at Seokjin plating their food.
Jimin looks around a bit curiously. It isn't that he dislikes his current position- Namjoon is warm and solid and he smells almost too delicious (it really would only have been better if Jimin didn't have to be empty. He’s willing to bet it all that Namjoon’s knot is impressive)- but it is a bit strange.
There are at least seven stools around the island, as well as a full dining area a bit to the side, and a fully functional floor. Why is Jimin in a lap? He is a stranger. They have no way of knowing that he really can’t have a full meal without some kind of physical attention.
"What's the issue?" Seokjin’s eyes are sharp, caught easily on every move Jimin is not been careful enough to conceal.
"I just," Jimin smiles, trying to look his prettiest, not entirely sure of whether there is day old eyeliner all over his face. "I was just confused about the seating arrangements- but I don't mind,"
"You would rather sit at the dining table?"
Jimin bites his lip- shakes his head and tries to think of an answer, but then Namjoon makes a soft noise- looking down at Jimin with understanding. "You're family raised."
Jimin blinks- what- though it seems to made something click in Seokjin’s mind.
"Omegas don't eat alone in this house."
Oh. Family raised, Jimin had heard of that- even if briefly, because no one who are "family raised" calls themselves that.
"You're pack raised." Jimin concluded.
Namjoon smiled just a little. "Let's eat, okay?"
Jimin eats. He eats at least double of what he normally does- which really isn't that strange. He’s safely tucked in Namjoon’s lap, free to focus only on his appetite waking scent and the bitesized pieces of mouthwatering breakfast food being pressed to his lips by thick fingers. He’s being softly praised and carefully petted- hair, back, and once he’s properly relaxed, tummy.
"What's the," a bite of strawberry is pressed between Jimin's lips, pausing his question for a few seconds. "What's the time?"
"Eleven thirty." Seokjin answers easily, cleaning up the table with practiced hands.
"Go to the nest with Namjoon.” He leaves a soft kiss on the crown Jimin’s head as he walks by. “I think we need to have a talk."