Chapter Text
Jimin stared down at the pregnancy test in his hands, body coursing with shock. He leaned over the sink and exhaled. Positive.
Jimin gripped the counter edge and blinked away tears. He was only twenty-one, still a full year of college left. Even if he made it to graduation without having the baby, his job opportunities were just about gone. Like the snap of two fingers, or the five minutes it took to receive the test’s results, his future had slipped out from beneath him.
Sure, he could get back into shape after giving birth. But he’d also be incapacitated for nearly nine months, and throughout the usual span of time he’d be going through auditions, trying to secure a spot on his way to a real dancing career.
Jimin rubbed a hand over his tight stomach as he inhaled a shuddering breath.
His phone buzzed violently.
Jimin struggled to swallow the lump in his throat before he picked the device up. Yoongi. Oh fuck, how was he going to tell Yoongi? His boyfriend had recently left on a three month world tour with Namjoon and Hoseok, the alphas part of a rapping trio called Triple A. No, Jimin reasoned, he couldn’t tell Yoongi at all. At least not until he came home. Whether his reaction was good or bad, Jimin knew Yoongi would cancel anything to come back and be with him. But Jimin needed him to focus on the tour, on his career, foremost.
Jimin answered with quivering fingers and shut his eyes. “Hi, hyung,” he said hoarsely.
“You okay, Minie?” Yoongi asked softly.
He could hear it in Jimin’s tone. Thank god Yoongi couldn’t scent his panic, though. “Y-yeah. Just read my schedule wrong. Thought I was late to my first class, but it starts in a half hour.”
“You sound shaken. Don’t freak yourself out so early into the term,” Yoongi sighed. “Everything else good, though? You know where your classes are at? The car is working? The apartment hasn’t been robbed?”
Jimin chuckled. “Everything is fine, hyung,” he lied. “And how are things on your end? Having fun in Tokyo?”
“Not really. The city’s bland without you.”
Jimin placed a hand over his fluttering heart and smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi murmured. “Has it really only been four days?”
Jimin hummed. “I’m afraid we’re codependent.”
“I can still get you a ticket out here, y’know?”
“No, I’d rather not skip a term and push graduation back. And you should focus on the shows. We can survive a few months.”
“If you say so, Minie. I’ll believe you.”
Jimin’s palm lowered further down to his stomach. “Good.”
There was silence over the line and a shared calm that Jimin wasn’t quite ready to let go. “You have to go soon, don’t you?” Yoongi asked.
“Yeah, I do. I’ll call you back when I got home, tell you about my day and you can tell me about yours.”
“Mm. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jimin said tiredly. They hung up.
Jimin tried to swallow his rampant emotions as he gathered his things for school. He was grateful to have only one Monday class, as he was sure he wouldn’t be able to handle more than the two hours required that late morning.
Jimin left the apartment with uneasiness churning inside him. He couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t give in to the panic, otherwise he’d cry, and blurry eyes were more than a mild inconvenience when he had to drive himself to campus. Jimin simply breathed as he navigated through the city, thoughts falling back into a muddled haze as he focused on the busy roads.
Arriving on campus and walking to the correct building was a journey on autopilot. Jimin was only vaguely aware of the stream of students around him, some stares lingering as he passed by. Jimin was an objectively pretty omega, blonde hair always combed neatly and shiny under the sun. He wore glittering rings and sometimes chokers too, all gifts from his boyfriend over the span of their two year relationship. Jimin drew eyes; he wondered how many more he’d garner with a baby bump, yet wouldn’t linger on the thought.
Jimin found his lecture hall quickly. He was familiar with the large room and could recognize a few familiar faces from the arts department. He settled in a seat just over ten minutes early, unpacking his notebook with calculated breaths. Everything was fine, he told himself. Just another first day of class. His worries could wait.
As the minutes waned on, more students filtered in, filling the surrounding seats. A minute before the hour mark, a fresh-faced boy stumbled in, dark hair an absolute mess and cheeks red from exertion. He spotted the empty spot to Jimin’s left and scurried over. The closer he got, the more Jimin could detect the heady alpha scent clinging to him. God, this kid was a mass of pheromones.
“Can I sit here?” He huffed out.
Jimin gave him a tight smile and nodded. The boy hesitated, big eyes widening further as he took Jimin in. Wow, he was really checking him out, and very unabashedly at that. Jimin wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed. “Sit. The professor’s coming in,” Jimin finally muttered.
The kid blushed and dropped himself into the seat. He was a whole bulk of muscle, Jimin noted. Probably weighed twice as much as Jimin himself. No wonder he sounded so heavy.
The professor gave a brief introduction, then began writing the required reading material on the long whiteboard up front. The boy took the opportunity to turn to Jimin.
“Hey, I’m Jungkook.”
“You sound winded, Jungkook,” Jimin replied as he wrote down the list of books. “And I’m Jimin.”
“Couldn’t find this building. I was on the other side of campus when I finally got directions. Had to run over here to make it on time.”
“Well, good job. You made it. Are you a freshman?”
“Transfer student. Second year in college but I’m technically a junior, if we’re counting credits.”
“Oh, impressive,” Jimin murmured.
“You?”
Jimin set down his pen. There was already half a page of blue-ink notes. “Senior. I’ve finally made it to the last leg. I put off music theory for a while knowing it’d be boring as hell. Looking at this reading material, I’d say the rumors were right.”
Jungkook was looking at him with a startlingly sparkly expression, cute rabbit teeth on display and mussed hair still sticking up. Jimin had a strange urge to straighten out the boy’s appearance, yet he refrained.
Then the professor started speaking again and they were back to meticulous notes.
Jungkook took every chance to lean over and whisper comments to Jimin throughout the duration of the class period. And yeah, maybe he did garner a giggle or two from the elder.
“Are all your pens glittery?”
“Oh definitely.”
Jungkook actually made the boring period pass by quicker. Jimin was still grateful when the time came to pack up and leave.
“Wanna get a coffee?” Jungkook asked as he zipped up his backpack and slung it over a shoulder. Jimin almost accepted, until that goddamn positive returned to the forefront of his head. Reality flooded back. No caffeine.
“I don’t drink coffee,” Jimin lied, pursing his lips. “But you can buy me something sweet on Wednesday.”
“Got somewhere to be today?” He asked lightly.
“Yeah. The comfort of my bed.”
Jungkook laughed. It was squeakier than Jimin had expected. “Fair. We’ll get a drink on Wednesday, then.”
Jimin smiled. Jungkook grinned back as he left.
Jimin dropped his keys on the kitchen countertop and stared out at the clean living space. The whole apartment seemed empty without Yoongi there, waiting for him to return home. Jimin stepped into the open living room and walked further to pull back the drapes. They had a phenomenal view of Seoul. One of the perks of dating a world-famous rapper was the lavish home, Jimin supposed.
He lingered by the window as the apartment’s silence settled in around him. Three more months of this. Just Jimin, the quiet, and the life growing inside of him.
God. He wasn’t even sure how far along he was. It couldn’t have been too long, otherwise Yoongi would have noticed a shift in his scent. No, it surely happened in the weeks leading up to the alpha’s departure. That last month of Jimin’s summer break had been spent practically glued to Yoongi’s side, dreading the coming bout of distance.
Maybe they were too caught up in each other, never careful enough. What a mess they’d made.
Jimin drifted toward the couch, finding one of Yoongi’s hoodies draped over the side. Jimin curled his fingers into the dark material, then held it up to his nose, inhaling the comforting scent deeply. A hint of his cologne, that indescribable woodsy scent, and spring rain. Jimin collapsed into the cushions, curling up with the hoodie as he continued to breathe in the remnants of Yoongi.
Tears pricked Jimin’s eyes as loneliness settled deep inside him. How was he going to manage this? He couldn’t even tell Yoongi until after the first trimester. Jimin knew it’d only get harder as the months passed. His body wasn’t going to function the same. He’d have so many new obstacles to tackle, and to do it alone was… scary.
Jimin’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He rubbed at his bleary eyes as he pulled out the device. Yoongi was video calling him. Jimin answered before he could even consider his appearance.
Jimin sighed when he was met with the sight of Yoongi’s face. He looked to be in a hotel room, dark circles under his eyes and hair slightly mussed. It was barely midday and he already seemed so tired.
“Oh, Jimin,” Yoongi breathed as he laid eyes on Jimin’s wet cheeks and red flush. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Jimin bit his bottom lip, another tear slipping down. His emotions were slipping past his barriers, hitting him like a rush of water freed from a dam. Jimin was drowning in his own fear and misery. He struggled for words, for some sort of excuse. “I j-just miss you,” he managed to choke out.
“I’ll come home,” Yoongi said immediately.
Jimin shook his head. “No, no. Don’t. This is your job, and you can’t just cancel tour dates because of me.”
We need this money. There’s a baby on the way.
“It hasn’t even been a week and you’re distraught, baby.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jimin insisted, voice wavering.
We have to be parents soon.
“Jimin,” Yoongi murmured, expression concerned and voice pleading. “I don’t like that I can’t do anything. If I can do something to help, I want to.”
“I know,” Jimin whispered. “It’s just your instincts. But I’ll push through this, I promise.”
Because I have to be a parent now.
“It’s hard dealing with the distance, but I’m sure it’ll get better.”
Yoongi sat back and sighed, visibly conflicted. “It fucking sucks that you can’t be here.”
Jimin shrugged and attempted a smile. “I’m sure Hobi-hyung understands how you feel.”
“At least he gets to see Taehyung when we’re in France in a couple months. Meanwhile, Joon and Jin are acting like they’re newly mated. It’s gross. Whose idea was it to hire Jin as our manager? He’s annoying enough without all the couple bullshit.”
Jimin burrowed into the hoodie and giggled. “You grumpy, loveless old man,” he said fondly.
Yoongi hummed. “I’ll have to start hitting the gym to vent my frustrations.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Jimin mumbled.
“It’s called self-love, Jimin. I’m not doing it for you,” Yoongi said slowly, tone only subtly mocking. “Now that I think about it, though, I’d be impressing a lot of omegas if I bulked up.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes and crinkled his nose. Yoongi chuckled. “That’s a killer glare you’ve got going, Minie.”
“Maybe I’ll do more squats,” Jimin muttered pettily.
“You don’t need to do more squats. I don’t think your ass could get any nicer.”
“Well if we’re playing a jealousy game, I have to win—”
“Okay, joke’s over,” Yoongi cut in, face pinched in distaste. “Don’t poke the possessive alpha in me.”
“Then don’t poke the possessive omega in me,” Jimin retorted.
They observed each other through the screen for a long moment. Jimin grasped the fabric in his palms tighter, watching Yoongi’s expression soften.
“Was class okay today?”
“It was boring,” Jimin said simply, shrugging. “I think I made a friend, though.”
The corner of Yoongi’s lips curled up. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s a young alpha. He’s got really big eyes and talks way too much. I want to squeeze his nose and cheeks, I think.”
Yoongi chuckled huskily. “You’re so weird.”
“I must be so hard to love.”
Yoongi shook his head. “No, not hard at all. It was so very easy falling for you, sunshine. It feels natural.”
Jimin’s heartbeat stuttered. He shut his eyes for a moment. “I wish I could kiss you.”
“You can kiss me as much as you want when I get back.”
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
Jimin’s eyes fluttered open as Yoongi shifted. The alpha turned to look at another part of the room. There was a muffled voice on the other end. His expression fell. “I’ve gotta go to a sound check,” he informed.
“Okay,” Jimin said softly. “Send me pictures. Of you, the boys, the venue. Send me pictures of all the venues.”
“Sure, but I want pictures of you in exchange.”
“Just me?” Jimin murmured with a sleepy smile.
“Just you,” Yoongi said, voice low and full of warmth. “Every day, only you.”
Ω
On Wednesday, Jimin followed Jungkook just a few blocks off campus. “I know a place with real good milkshakes,” he said proudly, grin nearly as bright as the late morning sun.
Jimin was happy to settle into the quaint restaurant, burrowing further into his oversized sweater. He felt safer all wrapped up, and even less tense with Jungkook hanging around. Maybe it was his omega instincts that made him wary in public in the first place. He was suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he was alone.
“I didn’t get around to asking what your major is,” Jungkook said after they ordered.
“Dance,” Jimin said simply. “Luckily most of my physical courses are done. I left myself with too many general courses.”
“What? Tired of actually dancing?”
Jimin pulled his sleeves over his hands and hesitated. “No. Something’s… come up. I’m not going to be in the best shape soon.” He didn’t look up, wasn’t ready to gauge whatever expression had fallen onto the younger’s features. “What’s your major?”
“It used to be dance too. But I transferred here from Busan so I could switch to music production. I’m still a dance minor, though.”
Jimin sat up straighter. “Are you from Busan?”
Jungkook nodded.
“I am too! How funny,” he said with a smile. “Well, welcome to the big city. There are a lot more assholes over here.”
“Yeah? I hear Seoul’s alphas are the worst,” Jungkook added mirthfully.
Jimin glanced out the window and nodded. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate. They’re all bark and no bite. The real hard-asses are from Daegu,” he said jokingly.
“You warning me to stay outta Daegu?” Jungkook chuckled.
Jimin shook his head. “Not really. My Daegu alpha is very sweet too.”
Jungkook leaned back then, bright expression easing up. “Your alpha?”
He really had been flirting, Jimin thought tiredly. And here he’d been hoping they could actually be friends. At this awkward moment, the waiter set down their shakes. Jimin reached out to play with the straw, pushing around the mountain of whipped cream on top.
“Yeah. My boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Jungkook said evenly, fiddling with his own drink. He nodded then, seemingly to himself. “Is he a student too?”
Jimin exhaled in relief. At least he was still making conversation. “No. He graduated before we even met. He’s twenty-seven.”
“And you’re…?”
“Twenty-one, although my birthday is in just a month.”
“That’s a bit of an age gap.”
Jimin shrugged. “I don’t mind. I think we’re both rather mature. And it’s always nice dating someone much more financially stable.”
Jungkook nodded and smiled. The alpha took a long drink from his chocolate banana milkshake before speaking again. Jimin sipped at his strawberry shake meanwhile.
“I should’ve guessed you were with someone. You sorta smell like an alpha.”
“Scents tend to rub off when you live with another person.” Jimin paused. “I’m kind of scared it’ll get weaker soon. My boyfriend is on a, um, business trip for a while. I’m still getting used to being alone.”
“Oh, well… If you need like, a lightbulb changed or something, you can call me,” Jungkook said, a bit shyly.
Jimin giggled into his palm. “A lightbulb?”
“I don’t know. You know what I mean. If you need help, I’m around.”
Jungkook was blushing. Jimin found the scene adorable.
“Thank you. You’ll have to give me your number first.”
Jungkook nodded vigorously and fumbled for his phone. “Yeah, of course. That makes sense. Just lemme—” He pulled the device out of his pocket and thrust it across the table for Jimin to take.
As Jimin created a new contact, Jungkook tapped the table excitedly. “Have you thought about visiting home if you get lonely?”
Jimin finished inputting his number. “Ah, no. I actually haven’t spoken to my parents in a few years.”
“S-sorry,” he said quickly.
“It’s fine. We just had different ideas of what my future should look like. But it’s really okay, because Yoongi’s my family now,” Jimin said with a small smile, understating the entire ordeal. Jimin’s father had wanted him to mate with the son of his business partner when Jimin was only seventeen. When Jimin refused, his parents simply kicked him out and cut off contact. That was that.
“What do you want your future to look like?” Jungkook asked softly.
Jimin processed the question for a few seconds. His perception of the rest of his life had already shifted so drastically within the past few days. Jimin honestly wasn’t sure what his plans were anymore, much less how he wanted them to play out. “Well, I want a mate that I love. I think I’ve got that part down,” he said fondly. “I’ve been a backup dancer for a few idol companies, but I think I want to do more than supporting musical acts. I want to be in shows of my own. And…”
Jimin stopped, worried his lip. Kids had been part of the dream originally, but a far-off factor. A whimsical “maybe one day” rather than a frenzied “oh shit, today.” Jimin knew he could be a parent, though, and a good one at that. The timing was simply a little off. He would have to shift some things around mentally, make some compromises, but he’d make it work. There was no going back now.
Jimin rested a hand on his belly. “I want children. I’m going to show my kids the kind of unconditional love that I didn’t get from my parents. I’m going to do better.”
Jimin nodded to himself, stirred the remnant of his drink with the straw. “And what about you? Got any big dreams?”
“Uh, nothing concrete,” Jungkook floundered. “I know I wanna make music. Haven’t figured out if I want to be a performer too yet. People say I sing well, but who knows. I definitely need more vocal practice. I have a lot of dance training, though…”
“That’s good, Jungkookie. You’ve got a general direction,” Jimin said.
Jungkook’s ears flushed red and he lowered his head to suck on his drink.
“Well, if you’re looking for an opening in the Seoul music industry, I know some guys.”
“I’ve got a hookup too, but thanks, hyung,” Jungkook nodded. “I’ll let you know if it falls through.”
“Just stick with your passion and you’ll be fine,” Jimin replied.
“I’ve also got a solid Plan B to fall back on.”
“Dancing?”
“Gaming.”
Jimin shook his head and covered his grin with a palm.
Ω
Jimin experienced a massive wave of morning sickness in the following weeks. One day early in October, Jimin missed three calls from Yoongi while hunched over the toilet, spilling his guts and more.
He was so tired and uncomfortable. He didn’t care enough to even text a response. Instead, he rested his cheek against the cool lid and waited for his stomach to stop churning. “You’re such a nuisance,” Jimin grumbled, rubbing at his rather flat stomach. “I hope you’re nicer to me once you get out.”
Jimin shut his eyes as a matter of minutes ticked past, the sharp scent of disinfectant clogging his senses. His limbs still felt too weak to move. As his phone rang for the fourth time, Jimin sighed and reached out blindly for the damn thing. Getting the phone off the ground and to his ear was a whole other struggle.
“What?” He groggily greeted, slightly defeated by the energy that simple task had drained from him.
“God, you sound terrible,” Taehyung said.
“Tae? What time is it in France?”
“Almost four.”
“In the afternoon?”
“Uh, no.”
Jimin crinkled his brow. “Why are you awake?”
“Just finished a night shoot and I’m still a little hopped up on multiple energy drinks. Again, why are you the one sounding like death?”
“I didn’t sleep much, I’ve been puking for a half hour, and I thought you were Yoongi.”
“Rough morning. You guys fighting?”
“Not yet,” Jimin groaned. “If I keep ignoring his calls, though, he might get upset.”
“What the hell did he do to deserve the cold shoulder? I’ll castrate him, Chim. I swear I’ll do it,” Taehyung said firmly. There were muffled voices on the other line and heavy footsteps. He seemed to be walking.
“Nothing,” Jimin chuckled breathlessly. “I’ve just been sick and I don’t want him to freak out.”
“Well now he’s probably freaking out even more. Soon enough he’s going to assume you were kidnapped. Alphas are crazy like that, Jiminie. Their heads go to the worst places. Tell him you’ve got the flu or whatever, then he won’t go into full-blown panic mode.”
Jimin exhaled slowly and hesitated. “It’s… it’s not the flu, Tae.”
“Okay? You’ve got a cold? Food poisoning? Whatever. I doubt it’ll make a difference to Yoongi.”
Jimin contemplated if it was worth telling Taehyung. While the beta was known to be a gossip, he could keep a secret if need be. Plus, it’d be nice to finally get the truth off Jimin’s chest to some degree. He might as well break the news to his best friend.
“It’s more than that, though,” Jimin said softly.
“What? Are you alright? Oh my god, Jimin. Are you dying? Is it terminal illness? Say the word and I’ll be back in Korea on the next flight out. We’ll fight this, Chim. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other—”
“Taehyungie, I’m pregnant,” Jimin said with a wince.
There was a sharp breath, then, “Shit.”
Jimin opened his eyes and sat up, blinking blearily at the bright bathroom surrounding him. He waited tensely for Taehyung’s response. It was evidently a shock, clearly a lot to take in. But Jimin still needed his support now more than ever.
“Are you gonna keep it?” Taehyung finally asked tentatively.
Jimin rubbed at his chest, feeling his ribcage tighten with distress. “Of course.”
“Sorry, I just—I needed to make sure. I knew you guys weren’t… weren’t planning for this,” Taehyung sighed. “Shit, so Yoongi doesn’t know? It’s his, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s his,” Jimin said quickly, shifting around to rest his back against the bathtub. “Fuck. Why would you even ask that?”
“I just wanna get all the facts straight. I can’t figure out why you wouldn’t tell him.”
“I’ll get to it,” Jimin said hoarsely. “He’s busy right now and I don’t want him coming back when he really doesn’t need to. The boys have been planning this tour for years. It’s been one of their biggest dreams and I don’t want to put a wrench in that, y’know?”
“Oh yeah, as if you’re the only one responsible.”
“Tae,” Jimin sighed. “It’s fine, seriously. I’m getting by. Yoongi will be back before I’m barely even showing. It’s just—what—another month and a half? Two months? I’m focusing on school, and everything else is going well.”
Taehyung paused as the full weight of the news settled. “How far along are you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What, the doctor didn’t tell you?”
“I haven’t seen a doctor yet,” Jimin said meekly.
“Jimin, please. That should be the first thing you do. How long have you known?”
“A few weeks. I don’t want to go alone, alright? I know I could ask the Mins, but… I’d feel bad telling them before Yoongi. And you’re overseas so I’m sorta running out of options.”
“Just find someone. You need to know if the baby’s even doing okay before you go making big plans,” he said softly.
Jimin could feel his heartbeat in his throat. His hand shifted lower until it rested over his stomach. “I-I didn’t think about that,” he confessed, fear sitting heavy within him. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Good. That’s good,” Taehyung said, calmer now. “Make an appointment and tell me how it goes. I’ll make sure I hear from you and baby Min again soon.”
Jimin’s lips curled up and he held the phone tighter. “Okay.”
“Love you, Jiminie.”
“Love you too.”
After hanging up, Jimin wrote out a hesitant message to Yoongi before moving to clean himself up.
“Sorry, slept through my alarm. I’ll call you back tonight.”
Jimin waited anxiously for the end of class, fidgeting in his seat and fiddling with his green pen. As the professor wrapped up and Jungkook began to gather his things, Jimin stiffened. “Hey,” he said a little too loudly, startling Jungkook as he stood.
“Yeah?”
Shit. Jimin realized he’d actually have to keep talking. “I was wondering if you could do something for me. It’s not quite a lightbulb change.” Jimin stopped and sighed. Jungkook arched a brow in amusement. “It’s just… my friend is making me go to the doctor but I hate going alone, and since he’s in France—”
“Wait, your friend’s in France? Why? Does he live there?” He piped in.
“He’s a photographer and he’s working with an agency this term. He’ll be back in January,” Jimin said exasperatedly. “Anyway, I don’t really have anyone else to go with, s-so I was wondering if you’re available tomorrow afternoon?”
“Me? Really?”
“W-well my boyfriend and I have a merged friend group, and they’re all on that business trip with him. So I’m a little desperate here. I’d feel a lot better if I had a hand to hold.”
Jungkook nodded slowly and observed the room as students filtered past. He seemed to be waiting for the space to clear out. He lowered his voice; “Are you okay? I know you mentioned some sort of condition a while ago.”
“I’m fine, mostly,” Jimin rushed to assure, wringing his hands nervously.
“Alright. Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Jungkook said, voice still rather cautious. “I’ll drive us too. You seem,” he looked Jimin up and down, “Anxious.”
“You don’t have to drive.”
“Honestly, I’d feel better if I did,” Jungkook chuckled. “So, what time?”
“Thank you,” Jimin breathed. “Right, time. Um, the appointment’s at two. We can meet by the campus café at one thirty?”
“Great” Jungkook said smoothly. He hiked his backpack over his shoulders and lingered by Jimin’s seat. “Remember to tell me if something comes up.” His demeanor was much more serious than Jimin was accustomed to, his face set, yet eyes still soft.
Jimin nodded. “I will.”
Maybe Jimin should have mentioned what type of doctor he’d be visiting before arriving at the office with Jungkook. The alpha’s eyes went wide as they walked into the obstetrician’s. He gazed around at the charts on the wall tracking the stages of fetal growth, then the rack of pamphlets littered with images of smiling babies. Jimin was just as overwhelmed by the lobby.
They sat in stiff seats after Jimin checked in, wading in a tense silence when another omega across the room shot them sympathetic glances. The omega was flicking through a parent magazine, stroking his very swollen stomach. A weird feeling settled in Jimin’s chest as the omega’s mate stepped out of an adjacent hall and joined them in the waiting room. They ducked down to whisper to each other, smiling warmly.
Jimin wiggled in his chair, frowned, and looked away. “So this is the condition you just briefly mentioned,” Jungkook muttered, still evidently in some state of shock.
“I guess I should have said it more clearly.”
“Do you know for sure if you’re—” He seemed to have a hard time uttering the word.
“Pregnant? Yeah. I’ve put off talking to a professional, though.”
Jungkook seemed to startle randomly; he turned to Jimin with a concerned expression. “Does your boyfriend know?”
“No,” Jimin muttered, curling in on himself.
Jungkook reached out then, grasping Jimin’s smaller hand and holding it securely. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I figured he’d be here if he did know.”
Jimin nodded.
“Are you nervous?”
“A bit.”
“It must be scary. I can’t really imagine.”
Jimin’s heart fluttered at the soft tone. “It is. I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“For the appointment or the baby?”
“Both,” Jimin said weakly.
“Will the doctor let me sit in with you? So you don’t have to be alone?”
Jimin blinked rapidly, his eyes feeling rather dry. “I hope so.”
“What’s your boyfriend like?” Jungkook asked suddenly. “Figured we could try to take your mind off of this. You look stressed.”
Jimin smiled weakly. “Thanks.” He glanced down at their clasped palms. Jungkook’s thumb was rubbing the soft skin of Jimin’s hand in slow, calming movements. After another prolonged moment, Jimin could pick up on Jungkook’s scent. He was releasing pheromones to ease Jimin’s mild distress, perhaps unconsciously.
“People tend to think he’s rough. He cusses a lot and has a pretty cold resting face. And he’s too quick-witted for his own good,” Jimin began quietly. “But he’s soft-spoken around me. Calls me sunshine and holds my hand at least half of the day. He can actually cook, although we don’t do it enough. God, we eat too much takeout. But when he does actually make dinners, I bake. And we stay inside, watch movies or…” Jimin smiled. “Or we listen to music and dance. I do most of the dancing; he tries. He’s got skills in other areas. He makes music too, y’know. He’s got a fast tongue and has a mind for lyrics. My cute poet.”
Jimin sighed and leaned back into the seat. “I like when he smiles. I like how gentle he is despite what the rest of the world thinks of him. Yoongi’s always kind to those who deserve it. I imagined what he’d be like as a dad when we started dating. I still think he’ll make a great parent.”
Jungkook’s eyes were half-lidded, expression peaceful as he listened. “Your baby’s going to be very loved,” he murmured.
Jimin turned to him, taken aback by the warmth in his voice.
“Park Jimin?”
Jimin’s breath caught in his throat. He turned toward the nurse, heart thudding once again. “Hey, it’s fine,” Jungkook muttered near his ear, urging Jimin to stand.
As they walked slowly toward the nurse, she asked, “Are both of you coming back?”
“Y-yes, is that okay?”
“Of course. Follow me so we can get you prepped up,” she politely instructed.
Their hands remained intertwined as they moved through the long, white hall. They entered the examination room, Jimin exhaled and nodded as the nurse instructed him to sit and take a seat on the table. There was a mild buzz in his head, some sort of separation from reality.
“Dr. Lee will be in soon,” she said promptly before leaving.
“Do you have a fear of doctors, Jimin? Or is it just the whole pregnancy thing?” Jungkook asked.
“I really don’t like doctors or hospitals,” Jimin said weakly, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “I had some bad experiences when I was younger. I mean, the reason for this visit isn’t really helping either.”
“I get that. I dislocated a shoulder once. The doctor was pretty rough shoving it back in,” Jungkook said casually, looking around the tiny room. “Although I guess there are worse things that can happen.”
Jimin hummed, preferring not to dwell on it.
They both sat up straighter as the doctor entered, her floral beta scent filling the space. “Hi. You must be the Parks,” she said sweetly.
“He’s actually not my mate,” Jimin stated.
“Oh, my mistake. Are you the father?” She attempted again.
Jungkook shook his head with an awkward smile. “No, just a friend here for moral support.”
“Wow, I’m striking out on all fronts today. Apologies,” she chuckled as she moved toward the equipment in the corner. “So this is your first appointment, Jimin?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have an estimate of how far along you are?”
“Um, somewhere around a month, probably.”
“Do you know the other parent?”
Jimin tensed, confusion marring his face.
“I’d like to know if you have access to their medical history, that way we can predict possible complications with your baby’s health,” she explained as she set up the ultrasound.
Jimin flinched the first time she touched him, but forced himself to ease back as she went through the process. “I do know the father. We’re together. I just haven’t told him yet.”
Lee perked up curiously. “It’s good we’ll have that background to work with.”
Jimin was visibly uncomfortable as she continued to touch him. He felt exposed and vulnerable, discomfort only multiplying as she rubbed cool gel over his belly.
“Jimin, how’d you and Yoongi meet?” Jungkook asked quickly.
Another distraction, Jimin realized.
“I was one of his back up dancers for a string of shows,” Jimin said, closing his eyes as he took deep, even breaths. “I was nineteen. I signed on with a dance company after leaving home to pay for school. We were temporary workers for companies that didn’t want to train dancers of their own. I wasn’t expecting much out of the job.”
Jungkook pulled his chair closer and grabbed Jimin’s hand once more, unfolding his tight fist and smoothing his palm against Jimin’s. “The dancers didn’t really get to talk to the performers. But I noticed Yoongi watching me during the first couple shows. After the third, he finally made an effort to talk to me.” Jimin could still picture the sweat on Yoongi’s temples only minutes after the concert’s end, back when his hair was still bleached blonde. He could hear the rough timber of his voice, smell his scent heightened by adrenaline. It was his first clear recollection of Yoongi, the man he’d someday fall in love with. “He invited me to an afterparty his friends were hosting. He was undeniably attractive, so of course I agreed to go.”
Jimin bit his lip, fighting a grin. “We sorta hooked up that night and haven’t been apart since.”
“Jimin, open your eyes,” Lee said gently. Jimin had barely noticed the pressure on his stomach. Now all he could focus on was the screen tilted toward him.
He couldn’t detect much in the image, but the doctor patiently pointed out the tiny figure inside him. “There’s your baby. It’s looking happy and healthy. Still tiny, obviously. But it’ll be bigger before you know it.”
Jimin couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t blink away the tears gathering in his eyes as the realization hit him—he was having a baby. It was real.
“Oh,” he sighed after a long while. “There it is.”
Jimin heard Jungkook suck in a breath beside him. As he glanced over briefly, he noticed the wide-eyed awe in the younger’s expression. The whole room had stilled as if the air itself was reverent of the image set out before them.
“It looks like your estimate was right. I’d put you at a solid six weeks.”
Jungkook squeezed his hand. Jimin’s expression lit up with adoration as he murmured a soft, “Hello, little one.”