Chapter Text
Jimin takes one last look at his apartment. It doesn’t look like much, especially with all of his personal belongings packed up, but at least, it was his. A place where he could retreat whenever the world felt like too much. Now, he doesn’t even know if he will be allowed his own bedroom.
Before he can spiral too much, though, Seokjin appears at his side. “Did you forget anything?”
Jimin is glad for the excuse, glad that he doesn’t have to explain how he’s feeling. But of course, all that’s left is the sparse furniture the apartment came with. All of Jimin’s stuff has been carefully packed by professional movers. All betas, of course, and wearing such strong blockers that there wouldn’t even be a hint of a strange scent on anything when Jimin got around to unpacking. “No, I think we got everything.”
It had felt so strange, watching the movers pack up his nest, carefully folding blankets, putting protective sleeves over pillows and plushies. He knows he will be able to remake it in a few hours, but it won’t be the same.
Nothing will ever be the same.
“Are you ready, Jimin-ah?”
Again, Jimin feels absurdly grateful for Seokjin’s patience, his willingness to give Jimin all the time he needs. At no point in the process did he make it seem like Jimin was being childish—even when Jimin himself thought so, when he knew he was stalling for no good reason.
He isn’t ready, he doesn’t think he will ever be ready. Still, he says, “We can go, hyung.”
Seokjin’s smile lights up his whole face, and it’s only then that Jimin realizes what he’s just done, how easily he slipped into familiarity, after weeks of carefully keeping distance between them. He isn’t surprised by the gentle hand Seokjin rests on his shoulder to direct him towards the door, nor by his firm, “We need to stop by the Omega Protection office, to sign the last papers. Then I can take you home.” The hand on his shoulder moves towards the back of his neck, stopping just short of a scruff. “Sounds good?”
It isn’t really a question. Whatever happens once he signs the papers is entirely out of Jimin’s hands. But he’s glad that Seokjin is taking it easy on him. “Sounds good.”
He lets himself be led out, his heart twisting in his chest as he remembers what, exactly, he’s doing. Is this really what he wants?
Maybe not, but he’s so tired of barely making ends meet, of having only himself to rely on. The job he took—the one that was supposed to allow him to keep dancing—leaves him exhausted all the time. His last physical check-up was a disaster, his hormone levels dangerously low. He was lucky that his doctor didn’t report him.
In the car, Seokjin lets him fight with his seat belt for almost a minute before laying a gentle hand over Jimin’s. “Do you need help?”
It feels very much like admitting defeat, but Jimin is just so tired. “Please.”
He takes his hand away, lets Seokjin buckle his seat belt, his heart sinking in his chest at what seems, to him, like the very first step towards the loss of his freedom.
*
His case worker had warned him, when he’d asked for temporary placement, saying that even if he signed-up for the six-months, temporary program, he wouldn’t be automatically released at the six-months mark.
“After the six-months placement, the board does a case review. They will listen to what you have to say, take your wishes into account, but they will also review everything you’ve told me—” Here, she pointed at the pages-long questionnaire they had filled out together, with questions about his diet, his sleep schedule, his nesting habits, and so on— “To see how much progress you’ve made. They will take the decision they think is the most appropriate with your best interests in mind. Unsurprisingly, most omegas who enter the program do a lot better with a full-time alpha caretaker.”
He’d understood very well what she wasn’t saying: if he entered the program, it was unlikely he would be released from it. But he was also very aware that he couldn’t continue the way he’d been going. He wasn’t eating enough, he didn’t sleep well, his nest looked like a mess and he couldn’t make himself fix it... he was barely holding onto a semblance of normalcy. He needed a break.
*
Thankfully, no-one was in a hurry to make it happen. It’s been weeks now, since that first meeting with his case worker; the fact that things were moving so slowly made Jimin feel better, like the program really was trying to match him with the best possible alpha for him. He’d met three of them, in fact, awkward and stilted encounters, with his case worker acting as chaperone, wondering what, exactly, they were looking for.
He only understood when he felt his omega stir inside him the moment he met Seokjin. And even then, his case worker made it very clear that he could say no—“Just because your omega is interested in him doesn’t mean you have to be”—and if he did, they would keep looking.
But Seokjin was nice. He made Jimin laugh with his ridiculous jokes, sometimes hard enough to make him fall out of his chair. And when that happened, instead of showing alarm, Seokjin would follow Jimin to the floor, and a pillow would find its way behind Jimin’s back to ensure he didn’t hurt himself.
He told Jimin colorful stories about his pack—the one thing that scared Jimin the most, suddenly finding himself part of a pack, even though his case worker had warned him that most omegas who were used to taking care of themselves were placed in what the program called ‘group homes’ because it made the transition easier—to the point Jimin almost felt like he knew them already.
And, once Jimin confirmed that he would agree to Seokjin as his caretaker, if Seokjin wanted it too, instead of expecting Jimin to simply give in to whatever Seokjin wanted, he spent hours talking things out with him. Some of those conversations were enough to make Jimin blush to the roots of his hair, but as Seokjin put it, he wanted Jimin to know what he was agreeing to. And Jimin was, again, pleasantly surprised when he understood that, while some things were non-negotiable, others definitely were.
As Seokjin proved when they were discussing employment, after gently interrupting Jimin in the middle of a sentence to ask, “Just to make sure I understand: how many jobs do you have?”
His unease must have been obvious, enough to make Seokjin reach for his hand over the table, pushing Jimin to admit, “Technically, three. I have my office job, I give dance classes to kids over the weekends, and I sometimes pick up a few shifts at a bar one of my friends works at.”
And, instead of telling him that it was too much, Seokjin said, “Okay. If money wasn’t an issue, which one would you want to keep?” When Jimin opened his mouth to answer, Seokjin raised a finger to stop him. “Don’t tell me the office job, I won’t believe you.”
And Jimin blushed at how he was about to say exactly that, how easily Seokjin called him out on that lie. “The dance classes,” he admitted, softly. “But it’s not enough money.”
Seokjin took one long look at him, before turning towards the case worker. “This conversation is recorded, right?”
Jimin’s eyes went wide as she pressed a button, then said, “Not anymore.”
“Thank you.” The next moment, all of Seokjin’s attention was once again on Jimin. “My pack doesn’t need the money the program will give us to take care of you. That money will end up deposited into an account in your name, that nobody else will have access to, not even me.” Of course, Jimin wouldn’t be allowed to take money out of that account without Seokjin’s approval, but Jimin understood that this was about the principle of things, not the particulars. “Would that be enough for you to agree to keeping only the dance classes and letting go of the other two jobs?”
That might have been the moment that convinced Jimin that Seokjin was the right choice for him; how easily he’d understood that, even with all of his needs covered, suddenly finding himself without the job that was his main source of funds would be too much for Jimin, unless he could make up that amount, somehow. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t need it, and probably wouldn’t be allowed to use it; just knowing it was there should he need it would be enough.
“Yes, it would.”
Another nod from Seokjin to the case worker, she hit the button again and said, as if the last few minutes didn’t happen, “Of course, it’s recorded.”
And when Seokjin said, in the patronizing tone one would expect from an alpha, “You do know we will be handling everything, right? You don’t need to worry about money.”
Jimin agreed, as if he could be that easily convinced. That little moment, for him, was proof that Seokjin would put his best interest before everything else, including the program’s rules.
*
Jimin dozes through most of the car trip. He is so exhausted, suddenly, but he’d been warned this might happen. According to his doctor, he’d kept going through sheer force of will, running on adrenaline and way too much coffee. But it was very likely that, once his omega decided they were safe, it would force Jimin to stop.
Enough that it takes Seokjin’s gentle hand on his shoulder to wake him up once they arrive at their destination. Jimin is still so close to sleep that he doesn’t protest when Seokjin undoes his seat belt, nor when he says, “Wait for me,” before walking around the car to open Jimin’s door.
Thankfully, Seokjin only offers him his hand, as if he already knows that Jimin would react badly to being carried around like a child. Jimin quickly rubs a hand against his face, trying to chase away the last cobwebs of sleep, before taking Seokjin’s hand.
He’s as unsure on his feet as a newborn fawn, painfully aware that he’s only still standing thanks to the soft pressure of Seokjin’s hand in his. It’s easier not to think too hard and simply follow Seokjin’s lead.
“Let me show you your room, then we can see about getting you fed and cleaned up. Sounds good?”
It’s not a real question, Jimin knows it. It’s not up to him. Still, he nods, grateful that Seokjin is doing his best to make the transition easier on him, instead of throwing him into the deep end.
The little Jimin sees of the house is very beautiful, but it’s also way too silent. “Where are your packmates, hyung?”
“They left for the weekend.” They reach a small room at the very end of the second floor; Seokjin opens the door before waving his hand for Jimin to enter first. “To give us some time to get used to each other before you meet them.”
And Jimin would ask more questions, but anything else he might want to say flies right out of his mind when he takes his first look at the room. All of his boxes are here, for one thing, carefully piled and in perfectly logical order, but that’s not the reason he’s staring.
One of the things Seokjin did during their meetings was ask lots of questions about Jimin’s favourite colors, fabrics, so many things, in fact, that it made Jimin’s head spin. And from the first look, Jimin knows he’s put all of that knowledge to good use, enough that even without his scent anywhere, the room already feels like his. Nothing in it is meant to replace what Jimin already possesses; they’re all things he wished he had, but couldn’t afford, or didn’t have space for in his shoe box of an apartment. And the bed—
Jimin presses a hand against his mouth when he understands what he’s seeing. It’s much closer to a traditional nest than a modern bed, sunken in the middle and perfect for nest building. Without meaning to, he takes a few steps inside the room and trails his fingers along the edge of the bed. It doesn’t look like an omega’s nest, yet, and definitely not like Jimin’s nest, but the fabric is so soft that his fingers already itch with the desire to set it up correctly.
But he’s too exhausted for that, and he lets out a soft, unhappy sound at the reminder.
Very gently, Seokjin wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist to pull him closer. “What is it?”
“I need to fix my nest.” Jimin hates how miserable it sounds, but right now, he’s feeling so drained that what should be instinctual seems like a mountain he can’t climb.
“My pack has a communal nesting space for our omegas, no alphas allowed. I know Yoongi and Jungkook left it ready for you. You can sleep there tonight, and tomorrow we can see about fixing your nest.”
In a normal situation, Jimin would never agree to sleep in a nest set up by another omega. Right now, he’s desperate enough for a good night of sleep that he almost can’t protest. Almost, because, “We?”
A soft chuckle. “I’ll be here to help any way you need, but I will only do what you ask of me. It’s your space, not mine.”
That was one of the things they discussed, during the long weeks of meeting, but the confirmation that he will still have his own space is enough to make Jimin breathe a little easier.
“The door doesn’t lock,” Seokjin reminds him, but again, they already talked about it, “but you can close it, and nobody will come in without knocking.” Jimin’s breath catches in his throat when Seokjin doesn’t say that nobody will come in without Jimin’s permission, but he should have expected that. “Unless I ask you to leave it open, same thing goes for the door that leads to my room.” Because, of course, Seokjin’s room is right next to Jimin’s, with a communicating door.
Jimin wishes he could argue, but he knew exactly what he was signing up for. Instead, he takes another mournful look at his boxes.
Somehow, Seokjin seems to understand, and, if possible, he pulls Jimin closer. “You can grab a blanket and a plushie, and I’ll show you the communal nesting space?”
Again, it’s not really a question, but Jimin is glad that Seokjin makes it sound like one. That makes it easier to obey, as if it was his choice, not a very gentle order.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to work to find the right box; everything is perfectly identified, in clear and tidy handwriting. He quickly finds his favourite blanket, the one he can wrap himself in and still have room left, and a worn-out plushie that’s a leftover from his childhood nest.
The communal nesting space is a big and airy room, with huge French doors leading to the balcony. The moment he steps inside the room, he understands what Seokjin meant when he said that Yoongi and Jungkook left the nest ready for Jimin; nothing about it feels like it’s meant to keep out intruders. Even the scents on the blankets and pillows are a clear invitation.
And said scents are sweet enough that he knows they can only be omega scents, berries and caramel melting on his tongue, marshmallows grilled over a campfire. Not a single hint of the spice that usually accompanies most alphas’ scents. In fact, Jimin can only smell them on the edges of the room. Still, because it seems too good to be true, he asks, “No alphas allowed?”
Seokjin nods, before explaining, “Again, the room doesn’t have a lock. And—” His eyes shine with glee as he speaks, so much that Jimin has no idea if he’s serious or not. “If you’re thinking of hiding in here, omega or not, Yoongi won’t hesitate to pull you out by the scruff of your neck.”
It makes sense; of course, as pack omega, Yoongi would expect to be obeyed. Jimin blushes to the roots of his hair when just the idea of being forcefully pulled out of his nesting space by a fellow omega to be disciplined is enough to make him wet, but Seokjin doesn’t comment on it.
Seokjin must have smelled his reaction, though, even if he pretends he doesn’t. That might be the part of the program that made Jimin the most uneasy: both suppressants and scent blockers are strictly forbidden. Long-term use of suppressants is thought to be detrimental to an omega’s health—which sounded like utter bullshit to Jimin’s ears and almost made him change his mind on the spot in his case worker’s office, before Seokjin said he could be put on a milder form of birth control if that’s what he wanted—and scent blockers make it impossible for caretakers to truly understand their omega’s needs. And, as Seokjin put it, having access to his scent would make it easier to gauge his reactions, and figure out if he’s merely uncomfortable because everything is new, or if he’s truly in distress. Nobody wants him to be miserable.
Jimin hated how reasonable the alpha made it sound, how it all made sense. So much sense, in fact, that there was no way for him to object without feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.
He still hesitates a little before carefully laying his blanket on the nest, with his plushie on top. It isn’t his space, at least not yet. But it all feels so inviting that he can easily believe that it will feel like his space, too. Maybe soon.
“How about a shower, now?” The gentle phrasing gives the implication of choice, but Jimin knows better. And it’s true that he needs it; he still feels grimy from the travel, even though Seokjin’s pack doesn’t live that far into the suburbs.
But with the way things are going, he very much doubts he will be allowed to shower on his own. He can’t bring himself to say it aloud, but his uneasiness must be clear from his expression—from his scent—, prompting Seokjin to ask, “Would you prefer a bath?”
And, once it becomes obvious that Seokjin will not understand unless Jimin explains, he forces himself to ask, “Can I have some privacy?”
Two fingers under his chin to make him stop staring at the ground. “You know that’s not how things work.” If possible, Jimin blushes even harder. “Would you be more comfortable if I grabbed some shorts and kept them on?”
In a normal situation, finding himself naked next to someone—to an alpha—who’s still half-dressed would make everything worse. Here and now, in this situation where regular orgasms and knotting are part and parcel of all the responsibilities that now rest in his caretaker’s hands, it does make him breathe a little easier. “Please, alpha-nim.” The title escapes him without any thought.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
Jimin perches himself on the edge of the nest. Without meaning to, he trails his fingers on a blanket, and his heart beats harder at how soft it is, how he wants to rub himself against it until it reeks of his scent. He’d been warned that his instincts would come back with a vengeance once he stopped using his suppressants, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours since his last dose; he had no idea it would happen this fast.
When Seokjin comes back, he’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt in dark colours, large enough that it won’t cling to him too much if it gets wet. “All right, let’s get you cleaned up.” He offers Jimin his hand.
Thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t try to hurry him along when it takes Jimin almost a minute to let go of the blanket and take his hand.
*
The shower situation is somehow both better and worse than Jimin expected. Better, because there’s something extremely relaxing about leaving himself entirely in Seokjin’s hands, and worse, because what does that say about him? After so many years of working so hard to take care of himself, this feels very much like admitting defeat.
Seokjin must understand it, though. He’s brisk and efficient, ensuring that Jimin is in the shower and under the hot water before he even has time to shiver. There is one uncomfortable moment, however, when Seokjin presses a gentle hand low on Jimin’s belly, so close to his pubic bone and his omega cock, and asks, “No hair?”
Jimin’s whole face is on fire and he needs to force the words out. “I got a wax a few days ago.” Nobody asked him to, but he’d known this was coming, and he wanted it to feel at least a little like his decision.
Seokjin lets out a soft, “Hmm,” but he doesn’t sound that unhappy, so Jimin chooses to take it as a good sign. “You don’t like to shave?”
It might just be a rhetorical question, but Jimin has no way to know. “The hair grows back way too fast, and everything itches.”
“We’ll have to make sure you keep up with your appointments, then.” Slowly, Seokjin lowers his hand until his fingers tease the tip of Jimin’s cock. “The lack of hair will make it easier to fit the cage on you.”
He already knew that, of course. It’s one of the many things that were explained to him by either his case worker, or the doctor who handled his health check, or both. But hearing it again in such an intimate situation makes a trickle of slick slide down his thigh.
And it only gets worse when Seokjin adds, “Especially considering how tiny your pretty cocklet is.”
A furious mix of lust and humiliation settles in Jimin’s body. He knows it’s true. Until presentation, it’s impossible to know what one’s adult body will look like. Some male omegas’ cocks don’t retract much, or at all; Jimin’s retracted almost all the way, until it was just big enough to make it clear that it wasn’t a clit, but small enough that the idea of using it for something other than his own pleasure never crossed his mind.
Right now, his tiny cock chubs under Seokjin’s teasing fingers and words. Of course, the moment he notices, Seokjin pulls his hand away, and reaches for a wash cloth instead.
Again, he’s brisk and efficient, only slowing down when he reaches Jimin’s cunt. Jimin has his back to the wall, staring at the ground as he flushes again when his pussy flutters against Seokjin’s searching fingers, first one, then two, an easy slide that makes his body contract, as if silently begging for more.
Jimin’s conflicting emotions about the whole thing can’t stop his omega’s satisfaction at finally getting what it needed, what Jimin refused to give it for so many years, scared at how easily he could fall under an alpha’s spell if he did. It feels so good, in fact, that he can’t stop a tiny whimper from escaping him like a protest when Seokjin pulls his fingers out.
When Jimin looks up, Seokjin’s eyes shine, but he doesn’t laugh. Instead, he brushes a light kiss against Jimin’s forehead. “I promise I’ll take care of you before putting you to bed.”
Jimin isn’t sure how he feels about that, but his whole face heats up. He is a little worried about what, exactly, Seokjin means—it doesn’t matter that he agreed to everything, some thoughts make his heart beat harder, and not in a good way—but he firmly clamps his mouth shut. He is glad that Seokjin is trying to ease him into this, true, but he needs to know what he’s getting into.
It’s already so strange, being touched so intimately, only moving the way Seokjin directs him to, while being aware that Seokjin only means to wash him clean. His hands are gentle, so very gentle, on Jimin’s body, but they don’t linger. At no point does Seokjin make him feel like this is a prelude to something else.
Never in his life has Jimin granted so many liberties to any of his lovers, and he needs to remind himself, forcefully, that they aren’t lovers. But that doesn’t make it better, and he can’t enjoy Seokjin touching him so gently while washing him, because the reminder that Seokjin is his caretaker now, that he agreed to it is a complete mindfuck.
Once he’s done and all rinsed off, Seokjin briskly dries him with a towel before wrapping him in a big, fluffy robe. Jimin feels very naked under it, but he doesn’t dare ask for more clothes. And while he’s at no risk of walking on the robe, it’s big enough that it feels like he could disappear inside it. And he has a feeling that even if he asks, it’s the best he will get.
Seokjin offers him his hand. His shirt is a little damp but that’s it; the alpha only got as wet as he needed to get the task of cleaning Jimin done. “Food next, yes?” Again, it’s not really a question, but Jimin nods anyway, grateful for the illusion that this is his choice.
They reach the kitchen and Seokjin says, “We have some leftovers that should be to your taste. Make yourself comfortable.”
Jimin finds himself staring at the high table and the chairs surrounding it. He knows, without even asking, that the regular chairs are out of bounds—there are only four of them, so they must be meant for the alphas and their beta. As for the other chairs...
Someone took the time to remove all the parts that might scare Jimin, but he can still see that they are what one would expect of omega seats: hooks for restraints, mechanisms to force legs to spread, and specific places for toys. For a moment, he has a vision of himself strapped to one of those chairs, his pussy full through the whole meal, only for Seokjin to hit a button at the end and give him his promised orgasm that way.
He hates that the way his stomach tightens isn’t only due to fear.
“Are you okay, Jimin-ah?”
“I’m fine.” With a little scowl, he shakes himself out of it, before reaching for one of the fluffy pillows that are piled in the corner of the room. Normally, he would balk at the idea of kneeling for some alpha he barely knows, but right now, it seems like the safest option.
However, once he’s settled, he finds Seokjin staring at him, eyebrows pulled up in surprise. He finds himself blushing again, wondering what he’s done wrong. “What is it?”
With a shrug, Seokjin goes back to what he was doing. “I was expecting you to grab one of the alpha chairs.”
If possible, Jimin blushes even harder. “I didn’t think that was allowed.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Moments later, Seokjin walks towards him at a brisk pace; when he sweetly runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair, Jimin can’t help but push into the caress. “We’re not that high protocol, I promise. I know you’re new to all this. We can take it easy.”
Jimin wants to believe him, but it sounds too good to be true. “But the omega chairs—”
“Every omega has different needs.” Again, Seokjin runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair. “Surely you learned that?”
Jimin nods. Of course, he did. But once faced with the situation, it’s a lot harder to believe that alpha caretakers only have their omega’s well-being in mind. Especially since he knows for a fact that that isn’t always the case.
“Do you want to sit with me?” When Jimin hesitates, Seokjin adds, “There’s no wrong answer. Just tell me what you prefer.”
For some reason, Jimin believes him. But he surprises even himself when he says, “I’m good here.”
And there might have been no wrong answer, as Seokjin so nicely put it, but it’s very obvious that this one pleases him. “Let’s make sure you’re comfortable, then.” With that, he crouches to help Jimin situate himself on the pillow, ensuring that no part of him will hurt if he stays there a while.
Then he reaches for the plate that’s ready, putting it on the table before grabbing a chair to sit next to Jimin, facing him instead of the table.
Jimin’s face heats up under the intensity in Seokjin’s gaze. “Don’t you need to eat?”
“I had a meal before I came to collect you. And, if I did—” Seokjin offers him a bite, waiting until Jimin is chewing before continuing, “And you wanted to kneel, I would put you between my legs anyway. It’s easier to ensure you’re eating enough that way.”
Again, images fill Jimin’s mind. He knows, without asking, that Seokjin would keep his chair far enough away from the table that Jimin would not be at risk of hitting his head, but he can’t help but imagine himself hunching over the alpha’s lap, and what else Seokjin might ask of him.
Just the thought is enough to make him wet again, and he scowls at himself. What the fuck is wrong with him?
Seokjin rubs a finger between Jimin’s eyebrows, waiting until Jimin relaxes again before asking, “Why do you look so annoyed?”
It would be better, safer not to tell the truth. Yet Jimin hears himself say, “Because I don’t understand why I’m reacting the way I do.”
“What do you mean?”
Jimin lets out a little snort. “Like you can’t smell it?”
Seokjin presses his lips together, trying his best not to laugh before admitting, “A little, yeah. But that’s normal. Stopping using suppressants means your body will go into overdrive until your hormones settle. It doesn’t mean anything, except that the cage will be good for you.”
Jimin drops his head to stare at the floor. He’d almost forgotten that was coming. It was one of the things that he’d argued vehemently against, and one of the things on which Seokjin refused to budge. He’d warned Jimin of exactly what he was feeling now: hormones out of control, getting wet and hard at the drop of a hat. He would need the physical reminder that he didn’t get to decide what happened to his body.
There were health reasons, as well, but these, Jimin sneered at. It seemed so convenient, too convenient, and he’d refused to listen.
Now, though, he doesn’t add anything else, aware that it’s no use and nothing will change Seokjin’s mind. And who knows. Even if Jimin has a hard time believing it, he might be right.
Thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t say anything, either. If he can see the dilemma behind Jimin’s eyes, he chooses not to mention it. He only offers Jimin another bite from his spoon, with a careful hand under it to ensure the sauce doesn’t drip anywhere, and it’s only once the flavour explodes on his tongue that Jimin realizes what’s happening. These aren’t just any leftovers; someone—Seokjin?—took the time to prepare his favourite meal.
He can’t help the little moan he lets out. He’s been surviving on ramen for longer than he wants to admit, with the occasional treat. It’s been way too long since he’s had anything homemade or bursting with this much flavour.
Seokjin starts petting his hair again as he feeds him. He keeps going until Jimin himself turns his head away, when he starts feeling too full. With another gentle caress, he put the utensils down. “Not hungry anymore, are we?”
Slowly, Jimin shakes his head. Despite everything, he’s starting to breathe a little easier. When they agreed that Seokjin would have control over his diet, too, he’d worried that the alpha would insist on ‘omega appropriate’ servings, which would leave Jimin, once again, on the verge of fainting every time he danced. Instead, he seems intent on letting Jimin eat as much as he needs. Jimin can only hope that will continue.
“Let’s get you ready for bed, then.”
Jimin only hesitates when he realizes that Seokjin is taking him to his own room. “I thought I would sleep in the nesting area.”
“Of course.” As he speaks, Seokjin opens the door for Jimin to walk through, leaving him no choice but to enter the alpha’s space. “But you need that orgasm first, to help you sleep better. And Yoongi will kill me if the omegas’ nesting space is reeking of my scent when he comes home.”
Jimin can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him, and he knows, from the shine in Seokjin’s eyes, that that was his intention. But he’s curious, too, of the dynamics between this pack, for Seokjin to be so respectful of the omegas’ space.
Light hands on his shoulders pull the robe away. Jimin shivers when he looks over his shoulder and sees that Seokjin is still wearing the clothes he put on to give Jimin his shower. “Are you not going to take them off, too?”
“If you wish.” And Jimin blushes even harder at the way Seokjin makes it feel like him stripping is something Jimin wants. As he takes off his shirt, Seokjin explains, “A knot can take up to an hour to go down. Maybe longer, if the omega is especially responsive.”
And with the way Jimin’s hormones are currently going haywire, there’s no doubt he would be, he doesn’t say. But Jimin hears it clear as day.
“A lot of the time, we end up falling asleep still locked to one another.”
Jimin presses his thighs together, as if to stop the trickle of slick that threatens to leak out at the images that once again invade his mind. How he hates that every little thing that should scare him only turns him on instead.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
Seokjin is right. Of course, he’s right, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from saying, “I want to see you, too.”
“Get on the bed, first.”
There’s no hint of a command behind the words, nothing to force Jimin to obey. Yet he finds himself doing exactly as told, not resisting when Seokjin settles him on his back, pulling his arms over his head where restraints are waiting.
“Will you keep your legs open for alpha?”
Jimin breathes faster just at the idea, but he still nods, bringing his heels closer to his body and letting his knees fall. Almost immediately, he feels Seokjin’s gaze on him, travelling down like a caress. Like this, he can’t look away, not even when Seokjin finally pulls his shorts down.
Jimin strangles himself on his next breath. Seokjin is still wearing briefs, but he can see everything. He knows, from past experience, that alphas run on the bigger side. It was, in fact, one of the reasons why, on the rare times he hooked up with someone, he tended to go for betas.
So of course he would end up with an alpha who is ridiculously well-endowed. He’s very glad, now, that Seokjin said he wouldn’t knot him tonight; if that had been the plan, there’s no doubt Jimin would have ridiculed himself with a That can’t possibly fit! worthy of a bad porno.
That doesn’t stop his mouth from dropping open, and he needs Seokjin’s gentle fingers under his chin to make him close it again, as the alpha whispers, “Don’t be scared. I have no intention of damaging you.”
And maybe that should reassure him, but he can’t help but notice that Seokjin didn’t promise not to hurt him. It makes sense, to a point, because the main consequence of taking suppressants for so long is that Jimin has very little knowledge of his own body, what it can and can’t do, and his omega’s needs. With the help of suppressants, he could mostly ignore it, and a lot of the time, it was easier to do so. He didn’t have time to stop to ask himself what he needed when all he could focus on was making it through his day so the bills were paid.
What he’s feeling must be obvious; Seokjin is oh-so-gentle when he joins him on the bed, settling himself between Jimin’s legs and bending over him to press a gentle kiss to his lips, as light as a butterfly wing. Then he pulls away, as if wanting to make sure Jimin is okay, and Jimin’s heart melts. He’d been warned, again and again, by his case worker, by omega friends who have been program’s wards for years, that alpha caretakers don’t tend to ask. In fact, most of them never do, except in the way Seokjin did earlier, with questions that aren’t really questions, an illusion of choice. It’s understood that omegas who have been independent for too long don’t have the ability to understand their own needs. It’s up to their alpha caretakers to figure it out, and it’s supposedly a lot easier if they don’t have to get into an argument every time.
But that gentle not-quite-kiss, before pulling away so Seokjin can actually look at him, tells him that Seokjin actually cares. That he understands some intimacies that would be taken for granted among packmates are things that Jimin needs to have the option to refuse.
And he knows, somehow, that trying to chase after Seokjin’s mouth won’t get him anywhere. So he asks, very softly, “Kiss me, please, alpha.” The title escapes him against his will, and judging from the way Seokjin’s eyes widen, he didn’t expect it, either. Yet he doesn’t add anything, lowering himself so their bodies touch everywhere. Jimin lets out a soft moan at how protected he suddenly feels, with the alpha on top of him, even though he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Seokjin isn’t resting his full weight on him.
Gentle hands rests on his forearms, right underneath the cuffs, so close to his secondary scent glands. Even that small touch is enough to make Jimin dizzy. And, finally, Seokjin kisses him for real.
He’s still gentle, so very gentle, like Jimin is a little thing he doesn’t want to scare away. But there’s a possession in his kiss, something that takes hold of Jimin’s heart and won’t let him go. I’m here, Seokjin seems to be saying without any words. I’m not going anywhere.
And Jimin believes him. He shouldn’t, should remind himself that Seokjin is only doing this as part of a government program, that he didn’t truly choose Jimin. But his silly omega refuses to listen.
When Seokjin finally pulls away for real, Jimin is breathing fast, his little cock as hard as it can get, and he would feel humiliated when he realizes that Seokjin’s underwear is drenched where he was pressing himself against Jimin, Jimin’s body leaking so much slick to prepare himself for the alpha. It won’t happen tonight, of course, it would make no sense for Seokjin to go back on his promise so fast. But it’s instinctual, his cunt so warm and wet, the sudden contraction, a desperate need to have something inside.
He lets out a soft chirping sound when Seokjin situates himself on his knees, taking away his weight and warmth, cutting himself off when Seokjin fits a hand to Jimin’s throat. Just a barely there pressure, nothing else, but it’s enough that Jimin goes quiet.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” And when Seokjin pulls his hand away, Jimin doesn’t chirp again, understanding the unspoken command, even though he already misses the pressure. Some of it must show in his behavior, prompting Seokjin to ask, “Should we fit you with a collar tomorrow?”
Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. It’s one of the things they talked about as a possibility, not an obligation. Omegas who are in the care of a pack need a visible piece of identification on them at all times. For some, it’s a collar; for others, a simple bracelet or anklet. Even Jimin got used to wearing a bracelet that clearly stated he could make his own decision to avoid unwanted attention and awkward situations.
And he’s so far gone that, right now, he would agree to anything Seokjin suggests. At least he’s aware of that, firmly clamping his mouth shut, and he knows Seokjin understands when he says, “We can discuss it once you’ve had a good night of sleep.”
He doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer, but Jimin nods anyway, glad for the reprieve. And it feels like a reward when Seokjin bends over him again, gently laying his hands on Jimin’s chest. It’s still mostly flat, since male omegas tend to only develop real breasts once they’re pregnant. But Jimin feels himself blush anyway at the way the alpha cups his chest.
“How sensitive are you?”
If possible, Jimin blushes even harder. “Not that much.” Which isn’t quite the truth, but he doesn’t know how to explain that, while gentle touches feel nice, they’ve never been that much of a turn-on. Enough, in fact, that unless he plans on truly teasing himself, he always reaches straight between his legs.
Seokjin lets out a soft humming sound, but he still asks, “What are you not telling me?”
And Jimin wishes he could lie, but he can’t bring himself to, not with the alpha staring at him like he can see into Jimin’s very soul. “I need a little bit more of a bite.” Not just when playing with his nipples, either, but there’s no way Jimin will admit that so easily.
“Like this?”
Jimin arches off the bed with a low fuck when the alpha twists and pulls, the hint of pain going straight to his core.
“Tell me, little omega—” Another mean pinch, Seokjin’s blunt nails digging into Jimin’s nipples, making him whine— “How much of a pain slut are you?” And, when Jimin can only pant through his mouth, unable to reply thanks to the perfect wave of pain-pleasure, he adds, “Could I make you come like this?”
“I don’t know.” That’s the truth, but only because he never tried.
Seokjin seems to understand, and he finally releases his grip, bending over Jimin again to press his lips to Jimin’s nipples, soothing away the pain. “We will have to explore, then.”
Explore. That single word should be enough to scare Jimin out of his headspace. This is exactly what he was worried about when his case worker started explaining the program’s guidelines to him: that his alpha caretaker would take liberties that have nothing to do with keeping Jimin safe and healthy.
Except... every single one of his omega friends told him that he needed to give this a real try, if he wanted it to work, and that, yes, that meant leaving his sexual needs into his caretaker’s hands, as well. And maybe he doesn’t know Seokjin enough to trust him yet, but he trusts his friends. He’s seen so many of them going from running themselves ragged to blossoming under their alpha’s care that he knows this could be good for him.
That might be why he doesn’t protest, despite how much he’s trembling when Seokjin trails his lips lower, gently pressing a kiss to Jimin’s lower belly before sucking his little cock into his mouth.
Jimin arches off the bed again, letting out a shout of surprise, and Seokjin lets him go. “You don’t like it?”
His face burning, Jimin forces himself to explain, “I wasn’t expecting it.”
Seokjin’s smile gains a teasing edge. “Don’t get used to it.” He gives him a lick, from his hole to his little cock, and it takes everything Jimin has not to close his legs. “An omega with a sweet little cocklet like yours is meant to come from being fucked.”
His words bury themselves under Jimin’s skin in a wave of lust. But that doesn’t stop Jimin from saying, “I can’t come like that.”
Seokjin takes one long look at him. “It’s okay.” Another lick. “Alpha will teach you.”
Jimin’s fingers curl around nothing. The next kiss lands on his belly and Jimin’s heart lurches in his chest when he understands what the alpha is doing, paying so much attention to the spot hiding his womb, gently coaxing his inner omega. For a moment, he’s so, so glad that he was given the option of birth control before he ended up here.
After that, he loses his trail of thoughts when Seokjin runs gentle fingers through his folds, carefully staying away from his cock.
“Look how wet you are.” Jimin doesn’t need to look; he can feel it, his body pumping out more and more slick in reaction to the alpha pheromones permeating the very air he breathes. “Such a good omega.”
Jimin’s eyes close of their own accord, his walls contracting around nothing, trying to suck Seokjin’s fingers in. He is so hard but doesn’t even try to move and rub himself against anything, the way he might have in another situation. As if he has already accepted that anything that happens next is up to the alpha.
Seokjin keeps talking, but Jimin can’t make out any words, a wave of praise washing over him as Seokjin eases one, then two fingers inside him, slow and careful. He rests his other hand on Jimin’s thigh, like a reminder to keep his legs open, as he finally starts fucking him for real.
It’s only two fingers, should feel like nothing. But Jimin’s breath catches in his throat anyway, his pussy clenching around Seokjin’s fingers. As much as he wants to tell himself that that isn’t a need, it’s been long, way too long since anyone fucked him properly. Or maybe it’s just the fact that his suppressants are out of his system and there’s nothing stopping the biological urge, no barrier anymore between Jimin and his omega.
He’s never felt his wolf so close to the surface, not even when he had just presented and was given a few weeks to get used to the feeling of sharing his body and mind with something else. He knows that some people would scoff at that description, but he’s always felt it that way; it’s never been just instincts. That’s why he was so glad when he started taking suppressants and realized that they tended to dull everything, making it easier for Jimin to go about his day without having to obey the instincts of the needy omega hidden inside his mind.
It’s good, almost too good, his whole body lost in the sensations, his mind floating in a soothing rumble. Jimin can’t even tell what Seokjin is saying, but it doesn’t matter; the alpha’s words are only a reminder that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. That, as scary as it is to leave so much control in someone else’s hands, it also means that Jimin won’t have to face life alone anymore.
If he was closer to the surface, he would scoff at himself, remind himself that he didn’t sign up for a permanent placement. Nobody does at first, a security measure implemented years ago to ensure that omegas don’t end up stuck in situations where they’re miserable. There’s a six month trial period, and after that, it’s possible to go back to a regular life. Not many omegas do, of course, but Jimin signed up while telling himself that it was just temporary. A little break from the stress of his life, until he felt like he could stand on his own two feet again.
Now, though, he lets himself hide in that feeling of security, of a possession so complete that he doesn’t need to think, doesn’t need to worry. He can leave everything in alpha’s hands and know he will be well taken care of.
Even that is a dangerous thought. Jimin’s fingers close around nothing. If his hands were free, he would be reaching for the alpha, to hold him closer. He’s almost glad for the restraints, for the way they stop him from doing something stupid.
A sudden change of angle, and Jimin lets out a soft sound, his pussy clenching. In the secret of his own mind, he can admit that Seokjin knows what he’s doing, that, even if they’re basically strangers, he seems to know better than Jimin what his body needs.
Enough that it only takes the smallest touch to Jimin’s little cock, one single, open-mouthed kiss, for his back to arch, his pussy contracting as he comes. The sound that escapes him is almost more surprise than pleasure, Seokjin keeping him in his mouth, his fingers buried deep until Jimin whines for an entirely different reason, even the gentle touch suddenly too much.
One last, gentle suck that almost sends Jimin straight into overstimulation, before Seokjin lets him go and pulls out. He bends over Jimin again, brushing a gentle kiss against his neck, and Jimin can’t help the way he tilts his head, offering himself. “I’ll be right back.”
Moments later, Seokjin is wiping him clean before releasing him from the restraints, patiently massaging Jimin’s wrists and forearms to make sure there is no leftover cramp. He’s still hard as a rock, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice, all of his focus on Jimin.
“Aren’t you going to—” Jimin cuts himself off before he can finish his sentence, but Seokjin must notice his quick look towards Seokjin’s cock.
Gently, he cups Jimin’s cheek, and says, “I only intended to help you sleep.” And it’s true that Jimin is feeling much more relaxed, as if he could sink into the bed. “Maybe tomorrow, if you still want it.”
And Jimin blushes, understanding that he would have done anything Seokjin asked for, in the state he’s currently in. He gets it, but the alpha’s words feel strangely like a rejection.
“Let’s get you ready for bed.”
And maybe Seokjin’s intention wasn’t just to make it easier for Jimin to fall asleep: he’s feeling so relaxed and safe that he doesn’t even protest when Seokjin puts the omega cage on him, his little cock carefully tucked away and a plugging dildo buried deep in Jimin’s pussy. It feels weird, but there’s something almost soothing about having his pussy full. Not that he would never admit that.
Some of it must show on his face, but Seokjin only says, “We will start you on one of the smallest sizes and work our way up.”
And Jimin blushes because he already feels full, and he can only imagine how different it will be with a bigger size.
Soon, he finds himself dressed in one of Seokjin’s shirts, way too big for him, and gently settled into the omegas’ nesting space. Without thinking, he buries his face into a pillow, grateful for the effort the two other omegas made to ensure he wouldn’t feel like an outsider, to make their space as welcome as possible for him.
And, when Seokjin leaves him with a kiss on the forehead, he tells himself that maybe it won’t be so bad, to be taken care of so thoroughly.
After all, it’s just for a few months.