Chapter Text
Rumi realises something’s wrong when she wakes up with her own hand between her legs.
“Are you serious,” she says disbelievingly into her pillow. Her hips twitch involuntarily. The flesh beneath her fingers is burning hot, so slick and slippery there’s barely any friction, and yet the slight movement zings up her spine like a lightning bolt. Rumi grits her teeth and pulls her hand out of her pajama shorts, another bolt of pleasure following it; she feels raw, as if she’s been grinding against her own hand for hours in her sleep, which is entirely possible. Her fingers are pruny. Her hand is soaked to the wrist. The shorts make an obscene wet sound, sticking to her clammy skin.
“Are you serious,” Rumi groans. Silence answers her, because she’s alone in her bedroom, because neither Mira or Zoey are sprawled out either side of her like usual.
Rumi’s going into heat, and neither of her alphas are even in Seoul.
It’s been less than half a year since the Idol Awards and the rainbow Honmoon. After all that, with no secrets and no inhibitions left, confessing their love for each other felt like it was only the logical next step for the three of them.
Rumi made the doctor’s appointment to take herself off the suppressants one week after they got together. She’d always planned to end them after Huntr/x finally turned the Honmoon golden, but she’d never thought she’d have Mira and Zoey sitting in the examination room with her, holding her hands, protective scents curling around her. She’d never thought she could reach out to them with her own pheromones, equal parts claiming them and seeking comfort from them. She’d certainly never thought they would both be there for her first heat, pressing kisses into her burning skin, holding water bottles and bites of food to her lips in between frenzied fucking sessions, taking turns to fill her again and again every time she pleaded for them—
Her belly gives a hard throbbing twist at the heat-hazy memories. Rumi sits bolt upright in bed and throws the sheets back along with the recollections, because this is the worst possible line of thought to go down right now.
The doctor said that her first few heats would be pretty rough on her while her body got used to being off the suppressants. That she should anticipate having very irregular heats for at least a year, and that the heats would last longer than regular ones, just until her body found its long-denied rhythm.
“On average, omega heats last two to four days,” Dr Seo said in a no-nonsense tone. “Omegas freshly off suppressants may experience up to seven days. Seek medical attention if your heat lasts longer than that.” She peered at Mira and Zoey. “Will you both be accompanying her through her heats?”
“Yep!” Zoey answered for both of them. She was trying not to sound too excited about it, but there was no hiding the pride and smugness beaming out of her face. Mira wasn’t even trying to hide, wrapping her arm around Rumi’s waist, radiating satisfaction.
Dr Seo nodded crisply. “Good. Having multiple alphas will help balance her pheromone production faster. It can be hard on alphas too for long heats, and with two of you, you shouldn’t get as worn out.”
The only reason Rumi managed to resist burying her red face in her hands was that they’d all known Dr Seo for years, even if they’d never visited her at the same time before. She had been the physician in charge of Rumi’s omega suppressant regimen since she was a preteen, when she’d decided it was more trouble than she needed while developing their careers, and then Mira’s alpha transition plan since just before their debut.
“Zoey-nim, I’ll give you… no, I’ll write out prescriptions for birth control for all three of you, just in case. Pay attention to staying hydrated. Producing so much lubrication takes more out of you than you’d think.” Rumi lost the fight with her embarrassment and hid her face in Zoey’s hoodie. “Mira-nim, I’ll give you a pheromone booster. Only use if Rumi-nim says she’s not getting enough feedback from you, which might happen with long heats. Read this pamphlet. Stick to the dose.”
Mira did take the booster in the end on day five because, quote, “I love it and I definitely don’t want you to stop, but you’re draining me dry, beautiful.” (“Like a Capri-Sun!” Zoey chimed in.) Rumi barely remembers it, to be honest. Between the physical exhaustion and the hormonal puddle the heat made of her brain, she only has brief flashes of lucidity left in her memory. Thank all the gods the heat ended the next day.
(Zoey was happy to remember for her. “You were growling at Mira, Rumi, like all ‘Give it to me!’, it was actually super hot—“ and then Rumi started throwing pillows at Zoey to shut her up.)
Rumi levers herself out of bed with a wince. The sheets are ruined too, and maybe the mattress. It’s not the first mattress ruined in the past six months. And ugh, thinking about that is not helping her function right now. Maybe she can sleep in Mira or Zoey’s bed until she can get it replaced? It’s not like they’re using their bedrooms at the moment.
Mira’s filming a fashion variety show in Busan, scheduled to wrap up in three days. Zoey’s much farther: she’s scheduled a whirlwind of radio shows, YouTube video filming, and magazine interviews in the USA, with a little family visit squeezed in. That leaves Rumi holding down the fort alone in Seoul. Her schedule’s no less packed—but now she’ll have to have Bobby move everything around.
She wipes her hands off on her pajamas before grabbing her phone as she pads into the bathroom. Dr Seo, bless her, picks up on the fourth ring.
“Hi, Dr Seo? I’m so sorry for the early call,” Rumi says as she rummages through the medicine cabinet. “I just have a little problem, do you have time right now?”
“Of course, Rumi-nim. How can I help?” Her professional tone grounds Rumi. This is normal. This is just a little medical problem and she’s just doing her due diligence in seeking solutions from her physician. Nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I think I’ve just started my heat, but Mira and Zoey are out of town at the moment. Are there any medications I can take or…?”
“I wouldn’t recommend heat suppressants this soon after you just weaned off the old blockers. They’re unlikely to have much effect right now. Also, the side effects can be quite unpredictable, and it could unbalance your cycles for months to come. The best thing would be for either of them to assist you.”
Rumi comes up with the bottle of blockers she had left over from before the Idol Awards. They’re expired. She throws them into the trashcan hard enough the trashcan wobbles. “Can I just, uh, spend the heat alone? I know omegas can do that, right?”
Dr Seo’s tone is carefully judgement-free in the way that means she’s judging hard. “You could, and there wouldn’t be any long-term effects. Again, though, I’d have to advise against it. You’ll be highly uncomfortable and might struggle to keep yourself fed and hydrated. Keep in mind your heats are longer than average right now as well.”
“Okay. Thanks for the advice, Dr Seo,” Rumi says as confidently as she can. She goes through the polite platitudes quickly before hanging up and tossing the phone beside the sink with a sigh.
It’s only been a month since Huntr/x came off hiatus. The fans, starved for content, have been lapping up every scrap of publicity. It would be cruel for all three of them to take a week off now. Mira’s been quietly gunning to get on this show for years, and Zoey’s literally 14 hours away anyway.
Rumi can handle it. It’s just three days until Mira gets back. She survived the first heat just fine, so surely the second can’t be worse.
She strips out of her sweat- and slick-soaked pajamas, grimacing as she does; in the two minutes she’s been standing in the bathroom, slick has trickled down her legs, leaving footprint outlines on the cool tiles. The coolness feels really nice, actually. She kind of wants to lie down and press her hot skin against the bathroom floor. Then she blinks, and she is sitting down and pressing her cheek against the shower stall glass. She gives her reflection a horrified look.
This didn’t happen last time. Mira and Zoey were glued to her side from the moment she came off the meds, so they were the ones to shake her out of her restless sleep the moment her heat started. They ushered her into the kitchen, and then Zoey fed her instant ramyeon and hot tea while Mira changed her sheets and put down the waterproof mattress cover, and then by the time Mira came back out of Rumi’s bedroom Rumi had already abandoned the ramyeon cup and was determinedly gnawing on Zoey’s neck instead.
She has so little time.
She calls Bobby.
“Bobby, it’s an emergency,” she says as soon as he picks up, not even waiting for his usual cheery greeting. “I’m going into heat. You need to reschedule everything for the next week, I’m so sorry.”
Bobby adapts fast. “Got it,” he says, and Rumi can already hear him start clacking rapidly on his laptop. “I can handle most of this. If Elle Korea won’t take a reschedule?”
“Offer them the exclusive interview for our next single. If still no, then cancel it, we’ll try again another year.”
“The quarterly financial report for HM?” Hon-Moon Entertainment Group; theoretically in control of the Huntr/x label and the Sunlight Sisters before them, but really the other way around. Even if the CFO needed reminding of that from time to time.
“Send me the meeting minutes. I’m sure Celine won’t let them get away with too much. And I’ll be at the bi-annual.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll have no-contact ready-meal food delivery set up in a sec, so keep your phone on—”
“Thanks Bobby, you’re a lifesaver.”
“—and I’ll get Mira on the bullet train ASAP. We’re still waiting on the new jet, but Zoey should be able to grab the next flight out of LA.”
“What?” Rumi says, startled. “No!”
“What?” Bobby says, horrified. “No! Rumi, you cannot be doing this alone!”
Rumi grits her teeth, yanks on a fresh pair of shorts and stumbles out to see if there’s any ice cream in the freezer she can have for breakfast. Anything to cool her down a little longer. “I can and I will. Bobby, I don’t want to interrupt them right now.”
“You’re more important, and you know both of them would say so,” Bobby says fretfully.
“It’s not life or death. I’ll be fine. Bobby, do not tell them until they’re done with their stuff.”
Bobby wavers. Then he compromises, because he is an excellent manager and hasn’t herded the three of them this far without learning a thing or two. “I won’t tell them, but if they ask me, I won’t lie to them.”
“Deal.” Rumi’s just going to have to keep up with the groupchat texts so they don't suspect anything. “Catch you later, Bobby. Text me if anything new comes up and I’ll try my best to answer.”
“You don’t need to do that, Rumi,” Bobby tells her so gently. “I can handle it. You should take care of yourself more.”
Rumi doesn’t know what to say to that, so she blurts, “Okay bye,” and ends the call. It’s fine. Bobby knows what she’s like, he won’t think she’s being rude on purpose. Hopefully.
The freezer has no tubs left, but there is a box of Zoey’s favourite mochi ice cream. Rumi swipes it and stuffs three at once in her mouth. She hisses through the brain freeze, but the pain clears her lightheadedness long enough to remember the sheets. Shit.
She drags two liter water bottles and the waterproof mattress cover into Mira’s room, since it’s the closest, but getting the cover out of the closet takes way longer than planned when she accidentally spends five minutes with her face buried in the sheets in there. She can’t help it; it’s the perfect mix of all three of their scents, and the laundry that smells like home, and she has to take big gulping breaths before she can summon the willpower to drag herself away. But the mochi coldness is already fading fast, and Rumi can’t be bothered to strip Mira’s bed properly, so she just throws the cover on top of the mattress and calls it good enough.
Then a quick trip to Zoey’s bedroom as well, grabbing the first armful of clothes Rumi sees while desperately holding her breath, and back to Mira’s bedroom, and at last—at last she can flop onto the awful crinkly cover and shove her face into Mira’s pillows and hold Zoey’s t-shirt against her open mouth. Her joints feel watery and weak; her mouth is dry with heat, but as she inhales Mira and Zoey’s scents with mouth and nose both, her salivary glands come to life.
The longer Rumi can put off touching herself, the better, because once she starts she doesn’t think she can stop. Her thighs twitch, caught between wanting to clench together for whatever pressure she can eke out and wanting to spread instinctively for a touch that isn’t there. Rumi whines quietly into the pillow. Zoey’s shirt has ended up between her teeth; she almost imagines she can suck the vanilla pheromones right out of the wet fabric.
Her phone buzzes from the nightstand. Rumi squirms over the mattress to grab it. It’s the groupchat.
Zoey 🐢: IN N OUT BURGER YEAAAA [burger.jpeg]
Mira 🐺: can you catapult one across the ocean
Mira 🐺: all theyre serving us is salads. i want meat so bad
Zoey 🐢: open up aaah
(“Open up, Rumi,” Zoey said with a sly smile, and Rumi whimpered, jaw falling open as she eagerly leaned forward to get her mouth on Zoey’s cock. “Good—ah—good girl, oh my god…”
“Does she taste good, Rumi?” Mira murmured into Rumi’s ear. She had one hand laid over Rumi’s throat, thumb rubbing back and forth over the tip of one pattern. It’s gentle, but the insistent pressure is so, so… “I can feel your throat moving around her. You’re taking her so well.”)
The moan that comes out of Rumi’s mouth is so loud it startles her back into her own mind. For the second time this morning, she yanks her hands out of her shorts. She can tell it won’t be the last time.
Shakily, she sucks herself off her fingers. Jasmine, delicate and clinging. She wipes the excess off on her shirt and slowly types.
Rumi 🐅: Save some for me!
Zoey sends a salute emoji, a burger emoji, and a fry emoji. Rumi turns on her back and stares at the ceiling.
One hour down, three days to go. She can do this.