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“It’s good to see you, Jimin-ssi. How was this week? Where are you now…” Dr. Cho glanced down at her tablet. “Was this four? Five?”
He took a breath. “It was the fifth since I came off them.”
“So your fifth fully-fledged heat. How did it feel?”
Jimin gave a noncommittal shrug. “Fine, I guess.”
Dr. Cho smiled kindly. “You never really get used to it. It just becomes part of you.”
“Having a mate helps, I bet.”
She chuckled. “It usually does.”
Dr. Cho was a psychiatrist, technically, but in his head Jimin preferred the term therapist. It was less threatening. They’d only been seeing each other for a year or so, and Jimin was still embarrassed telling her things, even though she was an omega herself who primarily treated omegas for mating and sexuality related issues.
When Jimin had decided that his career was stable enough to finally take a step back and focus on himself, his old therapist had directed him to Dr. Cho. For a breath of fresh air, a new perspective, and a specialization in late omega presentation.
Of course Jimin wasn’t really a late-presenting omega at all. He’d come into his subgender at a normal age, but he’d already been signed as a trainee and was promptly put on industrial-strength suppressants. The kind so strong they suppressed not only heat, but an omega’s sense of smell, too. Labels preferred that, since idols weren’t supposed to date anyway.
Not that Jimin had ever had the time. He knew in his bones that he was born to perform, and had dedicated himself completely to fulfilling that dream. It meant twelve or fourteen hours days of recording, dance practice, vocal coaching, English lessons and media training and his online degree courses and any number of other things his company saw fit to put him to — and, if he was lucky, a day or two off every other month.
But now that Jimin was the undisputed top idol in Korea with multi-platinum albums and several sold-out tours to his name, and offers kept pouring in for sponsorships, features, media profiles — the time had come to renegotiate his contract and start being a lot more choosy with his schedule.
He’d spent the last year thinking about his future, what he wanted from his career, and in his personal life. Dr. Cho had been a great help as Jimin re-acclimated to his body’s natural state, working out his needs and instincts, and how they figured into the process of courtship.
“Before this one came on, you had a date, didn’t you? We didn’t get to talk about it before you settled in for things. How did that go?”
Jimin bit his lip.
“You know, sometimes a heat can be eye-opening, instinctually speaking. You get in touch with a lot of deeper feelings when you’re in that primal state. When you’re looking for a mate, your subconscious can exert a lot of influence, maybe give you some interesting thoughts about people you might be open to… Did any of those dates spark anything unexpected?”
“Not… really…”
“Oh, that’s all right.”
Jimin frowned. He wondered if Dr. Cho could tell; today Jimin was sprawled out on the thickly carpeted floor. She had sharp eyes, though.
Silence fell, and a thread of anxiety tugged at Jimin until he reluctantly filled it. “I guess… It just wasn’t… it. I could tell way before the date was over, too. I barely gave him a thought after leaving the restaurant. Definitely not during heat.”
“What do you think about during heats, then?”
Jimin squirmed. “No one in particular. I mostly watch movies.”
She gave him a look. “Cinematic or pornographic?”
He rolled over and squished his face into the carpet. “Both.”
“That’s fine. Both, or either, or neither, would all be perfectly healthy.”
This time Jimin let the silence stretch on. The truth was, he had a hard time connecting with most of those alphas he’d been set up with. His management team was using some kind of discreet match making company to find them, but even apart from scent connection, it was still hard dating when you were the most famous idol in the country.
“Jimin, I want to ask you a question.”
Slowly, a tad dramatically, he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
“Who was the last person you felt a romantic connection with? In last ten years… or even before? Not just an attraction. A real connection.”
Jimin turned it over in his head. There was really only one answer.
“I guess… that would be Taehyung. We were trainees together.”
She smiled. “Tell me more.”
“Well, we were both trying to get picked for this group — it was before they decided to sign me solo — so we were kind of rivals. But then we were friends. We had a lot in common, we loved goofing around, staying up late together… other stuff. He was sweet. I don’t know if we did enough stuff to call him an ex, though.”
“He sounds like an ex to me. Do you know what happened to him?"
“I wish we had stayed in touch. He wasn’t chosen to debut, so he went home to Daegu. I never saw him again.”
🌸
Jimin left the session feeling more at odds than before. Had it really been ten years since he felt meaningful connection with someone?
It was still on his mind when he got home, so he pulled up a naver search and got quite the surprise: Kim Taehyung was the successful designer behind Vante fashion house. There were dozens of pages and articles. He was listed among the new generation of creatives in Asia. He’d had shows in Paris, London, Tokyo, New York.
Jimin’s head was reeling. If Taehyung was getting those levels of accolades, why had they never met again?
The image results were even more unbelievable: everything from magazine profiles to editorials. There was even a photoshoot on horseback in the French countryside. In every picture, he was more handsome than the last.
He stayed on his phone, reading until he fell asleep, wondering.
🌸
Jimin’s anxiety was in high gear. In the last year, he’d been to many of these industry-level parties, and gotten more comfortable with the mingling crowds, the colored lights, the sudden flash of a professional-grade camera. Until this past year, he’d never attended parties outside of promotional obligations. He was more at ease now circulating with Seoul’s elite. But that didn’t mean that wouldn’t rather be home watching a drama. But this particular event was one Jimin had learned Taehyung would likely be attending.
He made his way slowly around the room, trying hard not to look like he was looking for someone. He smiled at faces he recognized, chatted with people who stopped to greet him. But he didn’t have a second drink and stayed sharp on the lookout. His omega instincts liked this, actually; it felt like they were sitting up and paying attention.
Two hours had gone by before his manager came by and discreetly mentioned that Taehyung had arrived.
Jimin went immediately to the toilet to inspect his appearance. He was aware that it was silly; for one thing he already knew he looked good, and not much could have gone awry in two hours. And Taehyung wouldn’t be looking out for him especially, anyway. Tonight was really for Jimin. For closure.
He studied himself closely in the mirror. Silver-streaked hair, diamond studs, and his favorite Chrome Hearts earriings. His makeup was still holding up well. Since this was fashion event, Jimin had taken care choosing his outfit: a fitted Dior jacket over his bare chest, paired with a thick silver chain.
Jimin ran a hand through his hair reassuringly. He’d learned, in the last year, that this was an omega habit. Preening, it was called. He did it a few times, until he felt calm enough to go back out see what it was he could get from this evening.
It happened like this: Jimin against the railing, his back to the illuminated dance floor below. Taehyung and his entourage of young, beautiful, leather and velvet clad friends moving through the crowd, passing just in front of him.
He looked incredible. The gangly, perfect-visuals teenager Jimin remembered had matured into someone devastatingly handsome, all dark eyes and angular cheekbones, with wavy dark hair cut low to frame his face. The group was a sea of black-clad bodies, but Taehyung stood out in a sequined black turtleneck and a spectacular waterfall necklace — chains of diamonds that sparkled wildly under the party lights. He carried it all off with a casual grace.
Jimin’s heart throbbed. He knew he also looked different from his chubby-cheeked trainee days, but this was another level of beautiful. The images on naver hadn’t done him justice.
Their eyes met and Jimin saw recognition begin to light Taehyung’s face…
Then: the scent.
It hit him like wave, drenching him head to toe in sensation, knowledge, yearning, leaving nothing but distortion in its wake. He suddenly wanted to run! But his feet were rooted to the floor… it felt like he had been turned inside out. Jimin found himself doubled over, clutching the balcony railing with white-knuckled fingers, aware that Taehyung and his entourage was streaming past but unable to move a muscle.
He knew with total certainly the scent could only be Taehyung. It had to be. His head was spinning. It was powerful, matched only by the force of his own body’s reaction.
Jimin was only vaguely aware of being ushered outside and shuffled into a car.
“What happened?” His manager looked ready to tell their driver to detour to the hospital.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You looked like you were going to be sick! Did you have another drink?” His eyes narrowed. “Did anyone give you something?”
Jimin shook his head.
He felt flushed all over. His brain and his body and his heart were all buzzing with completely separate truths.
His body: It was full of want, longing, acute emptiness. The elusive scent had been found! And just as swiftly, lost. He hadn’t even known this was the feeling he’d been searching for and now — it was perfect. Made for him. They were made for each other, unquestionably.
His brain: Taehyung was a beta! That truth was plain to smell — to him. And it meant that Taehyung couldn’t smell him back. He’d had no idea; he just kept walking.
His heart: He’d met his soulmate at the age of seventeen and never known until now. They’d missed out on years of love and connection and meaning. He wanted to weep.
It all made sense now, why all those alphas that had never seemed to strike any chords on all those dates. Jimin was already spoken for.
Jimin was an omega with a soulmate!
Emotions chased him in circles as he tried to think it through. He had someone, someone he’d already learned to love long ago. Taehyung had been meant to be his this whole time!
But… his soulmate was a beta. What had Taehyung thought, when Jimin had turned away and doubled over? You looked like you were going to be sick.
He tried to relive the moment objectively and was horrified to realized his reaction could easily be read as disgust. What a terrible new first impression…
🌸
The next day, after thinking about it all night with no sleep, Jimin had his manager contact the host organization for Taehyung’s information. He ordered a flower delivery and sent a staffer to the florist with a handwritten note, which took him several tries to get just right.
Taehyung-ssi,
Please accept my apologies for my behavior last night. It was a very pleasant surprise to see you and I’m afraid I became overwhelmed. I hope I didn’t alarm you.
Would it be possible for us to meet and speak together? I know it’s been a long time, but I would love to catch up and hear how well you are doing.
All the best,
Park Jimin
Because he couldn’t help it, he rubbed the note over his scent glands, even though he knew Taehyung wouldn’t be able to tell. The arrangement was roses, tulips, and anemone in shades of pink and white. Jimin refreshed the delivery tracking alerts all afternoon.
That evening, someone from Taehyung’s staff called with an invite to have coffee at his studio.
🌸
Jimin spent the next two days agonizing over what he would say. And also what he would wear.
Taehyung was drop-dead gorgeous and would surely be expertly styled, even on a Tuesday afternoon, and Jimin was desperate for any advantage he could swing. He wanted to look like himself, not his idol image, but still good, still attractive. And he wanted to impress. After the fiasco of not-quite-reunion, Jimin had a lot to make up for.
He was so anxious he even had Dr. Cho write him a prescription for an emergency preventative, even though a stress-triggered heat was extremely unlikely so soon after a natural one.
He’d thought it all out: He was basically charged with courting his own soulmate. Something no omega ever really gave a thought to. In all the shows and movies, it was always alphas fawning over the omegas, trying their hardest to win their affections. And after all this time focusing on his career, Jimin had always sort of assumed it would be something like that. He’d go off the suppressants, embrace his subgender, and the right alpha would just… appear.
It wasn’t that unreasonable! He was, after all, a world famous idol. Millions of fans adored him! And he was pretty in a way alphas loved omegas to be pretty, fine-featured and petite.
What he’d never expected was a beta who wouldn’t even know what they were to each other. Or that the beta in question probably wasn’t even thinking of a mate.
He’d seen them all the other night: the glamorous models and muses and photographers and whoever else made up Kim Taehyung’s fashion entourage; gorgeous girls with long hair and severe chopped bangs; boys with bleached white hair and silk shirts only halfway buttoned. All of them relaxed and happy, twittering around him like exotic birds with clipped wings.
Jimin had been in the entertainment business for ten years now. He knew how things worked.
But maybe, just maybe, his soulmate might want to belong to him, too.
🌸
Taehyung’s studio was in Seongsu-dong, and he opened the door himself.
“Park Jimin,” he said courteously.
That was all, but Jimin still had to repress a shiver at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than he remembered, but not sharp; soft and warm, trickling down Jimin’s spine like melted butter.
He bowed and made his way inside. To his surprise, there were canvases and easels everywhere, many with half painted shapes or swatches of fabric pasted on. It was a big space with few windows. A strange assortment of abstract sculptures lined the walls.
“This is where I do my thinking,” Taehyung said.
Jimin’s heart was going a million miles a minute. If he hadn’t already been sure the other night, this would have sealed it. He could feel the pulse of it in his veins, that indescribable yearning. The deep sense of certainty.
“The thing is — what happened the other night — I already love you."
Love?” repeated Taehyung, looking alarmed. “It... it doesn't work like that, for me. I'm a beta. I can't know, like you know, just by smell." He pursed his lips. "And it kind of... feels fake to me, a little? You don't know me now, not like before. We're different people now."
“I know. I... I'm probably coming on too strong. I don't even know if you're single..."
Taehyung sat back in his chair. He smiled languidly, crossing his arms over his chest. "For you, Park Jimin, I absolutely am single."
"That doesn't sound encouraging."
Taehyung gave a one-shoulder shrug. "You know how it is. Young, successful, beautiful…” he trailed off. It would have been extremely off-putting from a less handsome, less suave man. Instead it made Jimin’s heart pound harder.
His hands twisted nervously. “I don't, actually. I haven't been with anyone since you."
He watched Taehyung's mouth fall open. He closed it quickly, but then he licked his lips, a jarringly familiar habit that Jimin instantly remembered. The muddle of mush that was his stomach warmed another few degrees.
But for the first time, Taehyung looked a little shy and awkward. “Ah. Well. I have... a lot. Does that, uh… bother you?”
“No!” Jimin blurted out, before he could stop himself. He couldn’t care less and neither did his instincts. He just wanted to be together, now. All of it, the whole package: mated, bitten, bred. His whole body was vibrating with it.
Taking another deep breath, Jimin told himself yet again to slow down.
“I think my therapist would say all of this was way too much for a first relationship.”
Taehyung snorted. "But you want to try, anyway."
Sudden, unexpected tears pooled in his eyes. “I do.”
Jimin felt the force of Taehyung’s gaze like the heat of a laser. He leaned in, a curious, earnest expression filling his face.
“Then I do too.”