As Yoongi’s eyes are blinking open, his nose twitches, sniffing the air. All around him, the smell of strawberries and roses, mingling with the smell of pancakes. Yoongi shifts in his sleep, rolling over, expecting to find his mate. Instead, he finds himself face first in an empty pillow that smells even stronger of that scent.
Seokjin’s preheat scent.
Yoongi takes one long, self-indulgent sniff, then sits up, shaking out his bedhead. He stretches his arms above him with a yawn then climbs out of bed, careful to not disrupt the tightly formed circle of Seokjin’s still only partially finished nest of—Yoongi’s—clothes. Now out of bed, Yoongi shuffles out of their room, following the scent out and into the kitchen.
The entire living room smells strongly of Seokjin and pancakes. The former stands at the kitchen island as he finishes plating a hefty pile of freshly made pancakes, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he concentrates all of his focus.
Yoongi, standing in the arch of the hallway, blinks against the light from the kitchen window, scratching his stomach. “Morning,” he grouses, stumbling forward when he takes a few steps, still not entirely awake.
Seokjin makes a noise of acknowledgment, standing back to his full height after he’s successfully finished plating. “You sound sleepy.”
Now in the kitchen, Yoongi doesn’t answer, following Seokjin’s scent until he can essentially trip and crash directly into his mate, face smashed against his back and arms coming up to wrap around his waist. Yoongi mumbles something incoherent, his entire body relaxing as he deeply scents Seokjin, his shirt damp with preheat scent and the smell of sweat and sleep.
“You made breakfast?” Yoongi finally asks, thankfully more awake now. He and Seokjin have been puttering around the kitchen, Yoongi plastered to his mate’s back as he pulls down two mugs.
“Hmmm,” Seokjin hums. “Woke up really early, so I figured I’d get a headstart.”
“When did my mate become a morning person?” Yoongi grouses, scandalized. Seokjin laughs, releasing a fresh wave of his scent that only makes Yoongi lift his head to stick his face against Seokjin’s scent gland. He kisses it gently, finally detaching himself so Seokjin can place the mugs on the island beside the plate of cooling pancakes. Yoongi, begrudgingly, reaches to hit the switch on the kettle, starting the water. Seokjin hip checks him as he passes him, a silent thanks.
Their mornings tend to be like (though not typically this early, Yoongi can’t help but bemoan)—one of them will get started on the making of breakfast, while the other starts the coffee and prepping the “dinner table,” aka coffee table in the living room. Yoongi grabs utensils and plates, carrying them to the living room as Seokjin finishes placing down the pancakes. When they pass each other, Seokjin stops Yoongi with a gentle touch to his shoulder.
“I forgot to say ‘good morning’,” Seokjin says with a small smile. Like this—his bangs hanging over his forehead, his face still a little puffy from sleep, dressed in one of his larger sleep hoodies that make him look less Kim Seokjin, KBS Award-Winning Actor , more Jinjinjara —Yoongi finds himself struggling a bit to breathe. Yoongi hums happily when Seokjin leans down to gently kiss him, using a finger under his chin to tip his head back. He feels himself smile into the kiss, a rush of love flowing between their mate bond, making Yoongi’s knees weak.
When Seokjin pulls back, snickering to himself as he continues on his way to the kitchen, Yoongi can’t really find it in him to be annoyed. He sets down the utensils and plates before immediately turning to make a beeline for the kitchen. He crowds Seokjin against the counter, spinning him around.
“ What— ?”
Yoongi leans up to kiss Seokjin again, holding him gently by his waist in complete contrast to the heated way they're kissing. With a wave of Yoongi’s own scent, heightened from arousal, Seokjin seems to melt, arms rising up to rest on Yoongi’s shoulders as their kissing deepens. Seokjin, ever vocal about his wants, tends to pester Yoongi to “act more alpha,” and Yoongi figures now is as good a tiny as any.
Seokjin’s lips part around a quick gasp, giving Yoongi the chance to slip in his tongue. At that, Seokjin shudders violently, his arms tightening to pull Yoongi more flush against him. Yoongi’s nose twitches at the strengthening smell of rose, and he doesn’t have to ask to know Seokjin’s begun leaking, going by the soft whimper he makes against Yoongi’s mouth.
They’re interrupted by the loud beeping of the kettle. They pull apart, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths, foreheads pressed together.
“Y-You,” Yoongi starts. He swallows hard, trying to breathe through his mouth now that Seokjin’s preheat scent surrounds both of them, stuck in his nostrils with its strength. He leans up to brush his nose against Seokjin’s neck. “You smell... really close to your heat.”
At that, Seokjin bark-laughs, reaching behind him to turn off the still beeping kettle. “Well, yeah , I’m in preheat.”
“N-No, I mean—” Yoongi sways in place, his mind cycling through image after filthy image of Seokjin, bent over and presenting in their bed. His inner alpha is pressing for him to take their mate back to their room, to turn him over and— ”I mean, you smell really close.”
Seokjin tsks. “ Yoongichi ,” he says, voice endeared despite his teasing. “Are you going all protective alpha on me?”
Yoongi, to his credit, thinks he would be more humiliated by the soft growl that rises out of him if it weren’t for 1) how tired he is, and 2) how prone to going “protective alpha” he gets when Seokjin’s near his heat. So, rather than deny it, he simply nods, face pressed against Seokjin’s neck.
“I think you should stay home from work today,” he says.
Seokjin’s arms around Yoongi’s shoulder slips down until he can get his hands to cup Yoongi’s face. “Oh, it’s that bad, huh?”
Yoongi doesn’t whine , but something akin to a whine slips out of him now. “Seokjin-ah, please , they can survive on set without you for a day, babe.”
“They absolutely can not , I’m the metaphorical glue that keeps that entire ship running,” Seokjin says. Yoongi knows it’s not fair to ask Seokjin to skip an extra day of work on his new drama, especially not when he’ll have to miss work once his heat actually starts.
At the same time, Yoongi’s made peace with the knowledge that he, himself, won’t in any way be able to leave the apartment, let alone head into the studio for work, and he wants nothing more than to spend the day cuddling with his mate.
“What do I have to do to convince you?” Yoongi says. He moves down, the tip of his nose brushing against the long-since healed over the mating mark at the juncture between Seokjin’s neck and shoulder.
Seokjin, baffled, pulls Yoongi’s face away from his neck, holding his head steady as he leans down to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Babe, I can’t just call in sick the morning of.”
“Compliments? You want compliments?” Yoongi asks, turning desperate now. “I love you, you’re gorgeous, I’m so glad I’m mated to you, there’s no other omega I’d rather be with, you’re it for me, I love you, I love the taste of your slick—”
“ Babe ,” Seokjin hisses, amused to the point of turning bright red.
“ Jinjara, please .” If Yoongi didn’t feel ten seconds from combusting, desperate to properly scent his mate over and over until Seokjin reeks of Yoongi’s scent, he’d be embarrassed by his own pleading.
Seokjin, still cradling Yoongi’s face, sighs. He leans in for another kiss—one that turns deeper with how restless Yoongi’s become—then straightens up.
“Let me call my agent,” he says with a fond smirk. “See if I can add an extra day off.”
Yoongi leans up on his toes to kiss Seokjin again, wincing when they knock teeth. He’s eager, but he figures he’s allowed to be—cuddling, in and of itself, is one of his favorite past-times, made only made better when he cuddles with Seokjin. Add, on top of that, cuddling with Seokjin while he’s in preheat —
“But first!” Seokjin says, jerking back so suddenly Yoongi stumbles back into the counter. “Breakfast.”
Before Yoongi can protest, Seokjin’s off, grabbing the finished kettle of boiling water to resume their breakfast preparations. Dumbfounded, Yoongi remains standing in place for a beat, blinking to himself, the lingering remnants of his mate’s scent still surrounding him.
When Yoongi does finally regain conscious effort of how to move, he moves slowly to the living room. They manage to make it through breakfast with next to no distractions—at some point, Seokjin does purposefully move so the shoulder of his sweatshirt drops to expose more of his collarbone, resulting in Yoongi nearly cracking a plate in his hands—and as they’re cleaning up, Seokjin steps aside to call his agent.
When Yoongi put the final plate away in the drying rack, Seokjin comes up behind him, plastering himself to Yoongi’s back.
“ Good news ,” he says in a sing-songy tone. “Managed to convince her to give me an extra day.”
Yoongi, trying his damnedest to remain composed now that he’s surrounded again by Seokjin’s preheat scent, nods simply, pulling the plug up to drain the sink. “That’s awesome.”
“So that means…” Seokjin’s voice drops, dangerously sensual as he sneaks a hand up under Yoongi’s shirt to rub over his stomach. Yoongi shivers, falling back against his mate. Seokjin scratches his nails faintly along Yoongi’s skin, making both their scents rapidly and simultaneously spike.
“ Hmmm, bed? ” Seokjin asks, his voice directly in Yoongi’s ear.
Yoongi nods, frantic. “ Bed .”
Because Seokjin insists, Yoongi lets himself be led back to their room by a hand. Seokjin opens the door, ushering Yoongi inside. He’s giggling as he climbs into their bed, situating himself inside the nest. He leans back, head tilting to one side as he watches Yoongi in the doorway.
“Remember when we first mated during our honeymoon?” Seokjin asks.
Yoongi swallows, nodding as he takes a step forward. “Your heat came two days early. You had to lock me out of the hotel room while you spent thirty minutes building a nest out of everything in our suitcases.”
Seokjin laughs, crossing his legs at the knee as Yoongi continues his slow walk forward. “And then when you did finally come in, I leaked enough to soak through all the way to the bottom of the mattress.”
Yoongi cracks a small smile. “We had to replace that hotel’s entire bed with half the money from our wedding.”
“Because someone didn’t bite me correctly at first,” Seokjin says. “That poor duvet. Covered in blood and slick.”
Yoongi’s reached the end of their bed now, close enough to catch the barest hint of Seokjin’s scent whenever he inhales. “It wasn’t all bad though.”
A fond look overtakes Seokjin’s face. “Yeah...not all bad.”
Yoongi places a knee on the bed, then crawls forward. He skims a hand along the top of Seokjin’s thigh, dragging it along as he moves to situate himself beside his mate. “It made a hell of a story compared to Jimin and Namjoon’s honeymoon.”
“Still doesn’t match up to Taehyung and Hoseok,” Seokjin says. He sighs, pleased, as Yoongi fits himself against his side, his face directly against his neck. “Like, getting walked in on by the cleaning lady ? After Hoseok had already popped his knot?”
Yoongi shudders. “I’m cringing just at the idea of it.”
Seokjin shifts, rolling over slightly to let his back press to Yoongi’s front. Like this, Yoongi can more easily reach both Seokjin’s scent gland and mating mark, all while being able to comfortingly rub his hand up along his side, down and over his hip and waist.
“I still like ours best,” Seokjin says, his voice soft and far away, almost slurred. “‘ Cause it’s ours. ” His breathing, against Yoongi’s body, feels slower like he’s close to falling asleep. Yoongi releases a few calming pheromones in order to further soothe his mate, following it up with a gentle kiss to the back of his neck.
“I like it too,” he whispers. Any earlier horny desperation has since (mostly) dissipated in Yoongi, leaving only an exceptional fondness for his mate. He allows himself the indulgence of taking another long inhale, straight from Seokjin’s scent gland. Even though their friends make fun of him for it, Yoongi can’t help really reveling in that scent that’s just so Seokjin —strawberry, rose, laundry’s cotton sweetness mingling with the lingering scent of syrupy pancakes. As much as Yoongi tends to reject the idea (much to Seokjin’s disappointment), he feels a comforting swell of pride when he thinks, This is my omega.
Seokjin’s breathing has slowed to a steady rhythm now, a sign he’s fallen asleep. Yoongi reaches down to grab the blanket, carefully pulling them up and over to lay on top of them both. He hugs Seokjin closer, arms looping around his middle as he curls against his mate’s back. Content.
Because this is ours.