“Love of my life?”
“Say one more word, Namjoon, and I’m shoving a sweaty sock in your mouth.”
Namjoon grimaces at the thought. “Ew.” He hugs the pillow he’s holding tighter to his chest, watching Yoongi at work.
His boyfriend is close to his heat, which means his nesting habits have kicked in, and they’re running on overdrive. Which means Namjoon’s been spending the past half hour trying, to no avail, to get Yoongi’s attention while he’s building his nest, because Namjoon is a needy fucker.
Yoongi won’t even turn to look at him, his tongue poking out in concentration as he adds pillows to the outside of the nest, which is situated on a fluffy, freshly cleaned futon that Yoongi uses specifically for his heats.
There’s a pile off to the right of extra pillows and blankets, plus a few other things that Namjoon can’t really make out.
They’re sitting in the spare room of the apartment, because it’s small and more like a walk-in closet than anything, and it’s set further inside, away from the busier areas of the apartment, almost hidden from view. The walls are painted a calming blue, and there’s only one small window.
It’s the perfect spot, really.
“Hyung,” Namjoon whines, rocking back and forth in his little ball of self-pity as Yoongi keeps ignoring him. “I’m dying over here.”
“I’m busy, darling.” Yoongi reaches over and grabs a dark lump from the pile of extra stuff, and shoves it between some of the pillows, tugging it this way and that until he deems it perfect.
“Is that my hoodie? The one that’s been fuckin’ missing for weeks and you said you had no idea where it was?”
“Huh? Oh. Maybe. I dunno. I just grabbed random shit, I didn’t really look.” Yoongi adds another blanket, smoothing it out under the pillows. “You can have it back after.”
Namjoon mumbles under his breath, something unintelligible. He’s not even trying to form an actual sentence.
A few more minutes pass, the silence filled with Yoongi’s soft humming and fiddling, and Namjoon’s petulant whining.
Namjoon leans forward, yanking one of the pillows out of place. Yoongi gasps, raising his hand, and Namjoon snatches his hand back just in time, before Yoongi can hit him.
“Namjoon, don’t you dare.” Yoongi’s voice is laced with venom, promising pain if Namjoon tries anything funny again. Yoongi puts the pillow back in place, fluffing and patting it until it’s just right.
Pouting, Namjoon plants his foot against the small of Yoongi’s back and pushes, knocking Yoongi over so he has to catch himself on his arms, his ass perfectly on display, presented to Namjoon.
“Your ass looks great in those shorts.”
And it did. The shorts were gray, cotton, and incredibly soft.
“Kim. Namjoon.” Yoongi growls.
“I can see the outline of your plug. Which one is it?” Namjoon finds himself smirking, just thinking about Yoongi’s wide collection of plugs, most of which Namjoon bought for him because he loves seeing his boyfriend plugged up nice and pretty.
“The red heart,” Yoongi murmurs, sitting back on his haunches, still refusing to even glance at Namjoon while he keeps perfecting his nest. However, Namjoon can see Yoongi’s ears turning red, and the pheromones in the room shift to something a little more intense.
“I bet if I pulled it out, your slick would practically pour out of you,” Namjoon murmurs, voice low and deep. He pokes the crack of Yoongi’s ass with his toe, ever so slightly nudging against the plug that’s nestled deep in Yoongi’s hole.
“Namjoon,” he hisses, reaching back to swat at Namjoon’s foot. “Stop it.”
Snubbed, Namjoon whimpers, tucking his foot underneath his leg. “But hyung, you’ve been at it forever. Why do you gotta take so long?”
“Because,” Yoongi says, grabbing another blanket from the pile, “it’s gotta be perfect. As an alpha, you wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t understand. What’s the point of going through so much trouble for something that only lasts about a week? And then you have to tear it all down again.”
Shaking his head, Yoongi snorts. “Well, yeah, it’s a good idea to take the nest down when it’s covered in slick and cum and sweat and god knows what else.” Yoongi sighs, like he’s talking to an incorrigible child, which he kind of is. “And it’s not like I choose to make a nest. My instincts choose for me. And heats aren’t the only thing we build a nest for. We build them to feel safe, and when we’re pregnant—”
“Let’s not talk about the whole pregnancy thing,” Namjoon cuts in, grimacing.
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Yoongi places another pillow along with the others. The circle of pillows and blankets is getting bigger and bigger as time goes on.
“Just not ready to go there yet,” Namjoon mutters, tightening his hold around his pillow.
“I know, Joonie,” Yoongi coos. “We’ll talk about it when you’re ready. You know I won’t force you into anything.”
“Thanks,” Namjoon says, and he finds himself smiling. It’s oddly comforting, watching his boyfriend make his nest, even if Namjoon is being quite needy and whiny.
“You’re welcome.” Yoongi tucks in a few more blankets here and there, fluffs some more pillows, adds a few more lumps of clothing that Namjoon knows are his, and he wonders when Yoongi raided his closet for things that smelled the most like him, because he knows that’s exactly the reason why Yoongi has Namjoon’s clothes in his nest in the first place.
Namjoon, feeling a bit daring, lurches forward and plops down onto the nest.
Yoongi shrieks so loud it makes Namjoon’s ears hurt, and before he knows it, he’s getting beaten by a rather dense pillow.
“Namjoon, I swear to fucking god, I’m going to burn all of your Ryan plushies if you don’t get out of the damn nest right now.”
Gasping, Namjoon shoots upright. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Yoongi’s eyes glint with a malicious intent. “Oh, but I would.”
“If you burn my plushies, I’ll drop all your Kumamon figurines from the roof.”
“The roof, Yoongi! The roof!”
“Will you stop being a nuisance and fucking move so I can finish this fucking thing? I swear, you’re needier than I am.”
“Fine,” Namjoon sniffles, shuffling out of the nest and displacing more pillows along the way, ignoring Yoongi’s incessant pillow-beating and shrieking. “I’ll just go be a nuisance over here.”
“Yes, that’s right, go over there and be a good boy.”
It takes Yoongi all of five seconds to slide back into nesting mode, fixing what Namjoon had messed up, and adding other things to the slowly growing nest. The pile of extra soft things is dwindling, but Namjoon knows that even when everything is inside the nest, Yoongi’s still going to spend another half hour or so making sure it’s extra, extra perfect, and everything’s in place like it should be, even though they both know that the nest is just going to get messed up later.
Namjoon flops over onto his side, clutching his pillow like he’s pretending it’s Yoongi, because the real Yoongi is ignoring him and his needy self, and Namjoon needs affection but Yoongi won’t give it to him. The nest is apparently more important.
“I’m going to wither away,” Namjoon laments. “I’m going to become nothing but dust.”
“Would you like some cheese with that whine, Joonie?”
“No,” Namjoon huffs. “I don’t even like cheese!”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“Why must you be so mean to me?” Namjoon cries. “What have I done to deserve such treatment?”
“Oh, hush,” Yoongi says, laughing. “You know I love you.”
“I love you too, but it’s hard to believe you when you’re over there adoring that nest as much as you are.”
“You seem to forget that the nest is for the both of us, Namjoonie. Not just me.”
“If you say so,” Namjoon mumbles. “I can’t even touch it until you’re done.”
“You’ve been touching it already, even though I keep trying to tell you not to.”
“And why can’t I touch it?”
Yoongi sighs exasperatedly, shaking his head. “Because it’s not finished, and it’s not going to get finished if you keep fucking it up. Now be a good boy and stay quiet so I can get this done. It’ll only be just a little longer.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago,” Namjoon whines.
“These things take time, Namjoon.” Yoongi fluffs up one of the larger pillows. “This is a fucking art form. Next thing you know, they’re gonna have nest-building competitions. The most beautiful one will get…let’s say…150k won. Yeah. That sounds like a good prize. That, and those special heat blankets that are super fucking expensive.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would. I’d get to put my talents on display for the world to see.” Yoongi pokes at a pillow, like he’s testing its fluffiness. “Nesting isn’t to be taken lightly, Joonie. Omegas have a natural talent for it.”
Namjoon fights the strong urge to roll his eyes, instead gripping his pillow tightly so he doesn’t do anything stupid. Yoongi can’t see him, but he can’t shake the feeling that Yoongi might know everything he does, anyway. “Natural talent, eh?”
“Of course,” Yoongi says. “You don’t see alphas making first class nests, do you?”
“Alphas don’t have—”
“Heats. You’re right. But you have ruts, which is sorta the same thing, but not really, since ruts are nasty, with all that posturing bullshit, and how you basically wanna fuck everything in sight.”
Namjoon quirks an eyebrow, nudging Yoongi’s rear end with his toe. “Need I remind you of how you act during your heat, Min Yoongi?”
He has to fight back a burst of laughter at the sight of Yoongi’s ears going red again.
“You sure? Because I think I do. Like, how you cry for me, how you present yourself so nicely for me… You’ve got the world’s greatest ass. And I love how you beg—”
“Aish, Namjoon. Hoseok doesn’t have nearly as much trouble with Seokjin.”
“That’s ‘cause Seokjin’s whipped.” Namjoon leans back against the floor, rolling back and forth while holding the pillow to his chest.
“So are you, sweetheart.”
Namjoon scoffs. “Not as whipped as he is.”
“You’re still pretty whipped.”
“Seokjin thinks sunshine comes out of Hoseok’s ass.”
“That’s true, actually, since he’s literally the fucking sun, but that’s beside the point.”
Namjoon can’t help but grimace. “Can we not talk about what comes out Hoseok’s ass, please?”
“Why? What comes out of his ass is basically the same as what comes out of mine, just without the sunshine. And weren’t we just talking about plugs? And slick?”
“It’s different when we’re talking about your ass, hyung. I like your ass. I don’t like Hoseok’s. His ass doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to Seokjin.”
“My ass, Kim Namjoon, doesn’t belong to anyone but myself.”
This time, Namjoon does roll his eyes. “You know what I mean, Yoongi.”
“Do I?” Yoongi starts smacking a particularly large lump in one of the pillows, probably some fluff that’s matted together. “I don’t think your ass belongs to me, Namjoon.”
“That’s because you’ve never used my ass.”
“There was that one time when we went camping. Don’t you remember? You said you wanted to try bottoming.”
Namjoon scrunches up his nose. “I thought you and I both agreed we wouldn’t talk about that again.”
“I actually like talking about it, Namjoonie. It did feel good, you said so yourself, if I recall correctly.” Yoongi laughs softly to himself. “You couldn’t walk properly for a week straight after that.”
“It was my first time!” Namjoon cries, hating how his cheeks are burning.
“Ah, yes,” Yoongi says, and Namjoon can’t stand how fond he sounds. “You were so sweet, so adorable…eager to please. I think we should do that again, y’know. Switch things up a little bit.”
“We are not doing that again,” Namjoon grumbles, hiding his face in his pillow.
“Couples are supposed to try anything and everything in order to spice up their relationship, or else things can get real stale real fast. And I might get tired of being the bottom all the time, y’know? You gotta step up to the plate sometimes, Namjoonie.”
Namjoon doesn’t think that statement deserves a response, so he stays quiet. He lasts for a few minutes of just watching Yoongi fiddle with his nest before he gets antsy again. He starts rubbing the small of Yoongi’s back through his shirt with his foot, earning an annoyed growl from Yoongi.
“Namjoon, if you keep trying to mess me up, I’m putting you in time out.”
Namjoon, of course, doesn’t listen. He keeps nudging Yoongi, gently kicking him from time to time, shoving him around playfully with his feet, and it’s hard not to laugh every time Yoongi hisses and snaps at him.
He even goes as far as to roll around on the nest, and Yoongi screams so loud he thinks the whole neighborhood is going to be able to hear them.
While Yoongi’s glaring at him, Namjoon rolls off of the nest and onto his back onto the floor.
Before Namjoon can even say anything, Yoongi crawls up onto him, yanking on the collar of Namjoon’s shirt and sinking his teeth into his shoulder.
Namjoon stills, frozen in place on the floor, his body ceasing all movement of its own accord, in response to the bite. Namjoon isn’t really sure why; usually it was omegas who responded to bites from alphas, but this time, it seemed, it was the other way around.
Satisfied, Yoongi pulls away, leaving Namjoon with the imprint of Yoongi’s teeth in his shoulder. Even when Yoongi goes right back to his nest, Namjoon still doesn’t move, just lying on the floor, breathing evenly, staring up at the ceiling, eyes blinking slowly.
He can’t move his limbs, even if he wanted to. Something’s gluing him to his spot, and about another twenty minutes pass before Yoongi makes a pleased noise.
“And, the final touches…”
Namjoon sits up, shooting Yoongi an accusing glare, though his boyfriend isn’t looking at him. Yoongi places two plushies at the head of the nest, one of them Ryan, one of them Kumamon. He toys with them until he puts them in a position he’s pleased with.
“You bit me,” Namjoon says.
Yoongi finally, finally turns to look at Namjoon, an amused expression on his face. “Only so you’d stop fucking up my shit. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. I’m surprised you stayed so still.”
“I couldn’t move,” Namjoon responds, bewildered.
“Good. You needed a break after getting yourself so excited.” Yoongi turns away, crawling up into his nest, making pleased little rumbles in his chest. He circles around inside the nest, until he settles back against some of the pillows, curling up snugly. He shoots Namjoon a bright smile. “Now, are you gonna come cuddle with me, or are you gonna keep looking at me like a kicked puppy?”
“I’m not a kicked puppy,” Namjoon grumbles, but he shuffles over to the nest, carefully crawling inside and settling himself behind Yoongi, slipping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, scooting as close to him as he possibly can. While Yoongi’s purring like a kitten against him, Namjoon burrows his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, closing his eyes, deeply inhaling his boyfriend’s scent. He feels calm, at ease, and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.
He feels Yoongi’s hands slip over his arms, and he sighs contentedly.
“I love you,” Namjoon mumbles against Yoongi’s skin.