Archive of Our Own ^beta

It begins with a sweater, and Jimin doesn’t even really notice, which in retrospect might actually be the worst part.

Jimin’s roommate has a tendency to leave his shit around. It’s been a problem ever since the beginning, even though they had agreed upon moving in together to keep the space clean and tidy. But, as Jimin quickly learned, cleanliness doesn’t always mean the same thing to everyone. For Jimin, clean means clean. Wash the dishes, keep the space organized, respect each other’s things - common sense, he’d thought. Not to Taehyung, apparently. 

Taehyung cleans only when whimsy strikes, which is seemingly never. 

And Jimin knew it was a possibility when he agreed to move in with an alpha roommate. His mom had warned him time and time again that alphas don’t notice things like that. They don’t have the same instincts that cause the deep-seated need for organization, like omegas do. In fact it’s quite the contrary - their brutish need to claim everything around them makes them prone to a messy space. Marking their territory or whatever.

At the time Jimin had written it off as reductive subgender nonsense. But now, three months in, he thinks she may have had a point, loath as he is to admit it.

Because Taehyung leaves cups in the sink and books piled high on the coffee table and shoes scattered near the shoe rack but never on the shoe rack. Nothing returns to the cabinets after he’s done with it. Jimin isn’t sure Taehyung has ever hung his coat on the coat rack. 

It’s crazy because it’s not like Taehyung is dirty, it just seems like he has no concept of where things are supposed to go. Or maybe he just can’t remember. Because he’s always good about dusting and mopping, but Jimin will nag him about his clutter and it’s like he’s seeing it all for the first time, appearing “just as shocked as he is!" by the mess. And then, even after whatever disaster he’s created has been oh-so-kindly pointed out to him he still doesn’t clean it up because he gets distracted by some other bullshit and forgets again.

Which is insane. It’s insane because it’s right there. 

Jimin cannot understand it, but he supposes at the end of the day he doesn’t have to. In reality he’s long since just resigned himself to the fate of tidying up. After all, someone has to do it, and if it isn’t Jimin, he’s woefully accepted that it certainly won’t be Taehyung. Jimin could probably badger him forever and it wouldn’t change a thing. A war of attrition won’t work, because Taehyung doesn’t care about the clutter. That’s the fundamental problem, when it comes down to it. Taehyung could live in chaos - does live in chaos - and he’d never even notice.

And Jimin? Jimin can’t fucking live like that. 

His omega hates mess. It needs to be neat. And if Jimin has to be the reason it’s neat, well. He supposes that’s how it has to be. It’s a year-long lease, and - other than the clutter - Taehyung really is a great roommate. They get along like a house on fire, honestly. They always have, since they were pups even. This one pet peeve isn’t enough of a problem to ruin a good thing over.

So Jimin picks stuff up. 

He puts away cups and organizes books alphabetically on the bookshelf and puts Taehyung’s shoes on Taehyung’s dedicated shoe rack shelves. He keeps it neat, because someone has to.

And it’s by no means a fair deal that Jimin does everything, but sometimes that’s life. As his mom has always been telling him, being an omega is never going to be fair - he might as well learn to live with it. And it’s not like he really minds decluttering, anyway. Taehyung is always at least dutifully appreciative of it. So, it’s okay. 

But that doesn’t mean it’s never annoying.

Like on days like today, when Jimin comes home to an explosion of sweaters in the living room and he’s expected to just act like that’s normal. 

Taehyung isn’t home, but he’s left a note on the counter asking Jimin to buy more almond milk, with absolutely no reference to the new living room decor. Which is typical, but just because it’s typical doesn’t mean it isn’t a little frustrating! Jimin’s had a long day, and it’s not like he wants to spend all evening folding clothes just because Taehyung didn’t want to.

Taehyung has this thing about his clothes that Jimin’s never really understood. He’s always loved fashion more than Jimin. Jimin dresses for comfort - prone to oversized shirts and sweats when he’s home - but Taehyung isn’t like that. To Taehyung, every single outfit has to be perfect, or he’ll lose his goddamn mind. Even if he’s just sitting on the couch for nine hours, the outfit has to be right. 

It results in constant outfit changes as Taehyung tries on alternatives over and over until he achieves his desired look. And that’s all fine and good, but the clothes never actually end up back where they belong once he’s deemed them a mismatch. Instead, he has a tendency to literally throw them out of his sight. And where better to throw them than into the living room? 

Jimin doesn’t claim to understand the thought process, but he returns to this exact situation more often than not. 

Frustrating, to be sure, but yet another thing he’s just had to learn to live with.

And so today, when Jimin returns home slumped-over and defeated from a long day of classes, and with stupid preheat cramps that his suppressants can never seem to do shit about, he resigns himself to his fate. It’s not like Taehyung is going to do it himself, after all. Nevermind the fact that he never really cleans up to begin with, but Thursdays are his long day in the studio, meaning he won’t be home until late. 

And on a normal day Jimin might just leave it, at least for a little while, to deal with once he’s not feeling quite so rundown. But right now even the thought of that causes an itchiness under his skin. His mind can’t stomach the thought of the room in disarray - he feels like hissing at the mere idea.

And so he’ll clean. Because that’s what he does. 

Once he’s dropped his things off in his room and turned on the kettle for tea, Jimin feels at least a little less out of sorts about the situation. Sure, it’s messy, but it’s not nearly as bad as it could be. There’s about fifteen sweaters tossed around the living room, and they all look clean at the very least. Most likely Taehyung didn’t wear any of them for longer than a few seconds. It shouldn’t actually take that long. 

Jimin huffs one final frustrated puff of air and then gets to work picking them all up. He feels like a little kid again, as he hoists the big pile into his arms and then brings it all back into Taehyung’s room. 

He intends to just leave it on the bed for Taehyung to deal with later. He really does. Except just as he’s leaving, he bites his lip and turns back because now Taehyung’s room is messy. And yeah, Taehyung’s room is almost always messy, and that’s not really his responsibility to deal with but he just-

He can’t leave it. 

Maybe it’s his preheat making him fussy but the idea of leaving everything in a huge pile just irks him. Because in all likelihood Taehyung will get home and he won’t fold them. The pile will get pushed off the bed or dumped at the bottom of the closet and it won’t get organized for months and then he might put them on again but they won’t be clean and-

Maybe he should just fold them.

It won’t take long, after all. 

So Jimin folds, putting all the sweaters into neat piles sorted by color and size and material and all the things he knows Taehyung never organizes by, and by the end he’s seated on Taehyung’s bed with a perfectly neat array of stacks and he feels so satisfied he could purr. 

He puts it all away feeling smug and better than he did earlier, which is one nice thing about decluttering. He loves the feeling of everything finally being neat. It almost makes dealing with the initial mess worth it. Almost. 

Jimin returns to the living riding that high, and heads into the kitchen to steep his tea. With the couches clean, he can curl up into a ball with his hot mug of chamomile and watch his dramas and just not think for a while. He needs that so badly after a day like today. 

And he does just that. He grabs his mug, a cookie from his cheat-drawer, and the softest blanket they own, and he prepares to hunker down for the evening. So naturally, that’s when he sees it. 

Just as he’s sitting down on the sofa - tucked in between two cushions so he didn’t initially notice. One more sweater. 

Jimin thinks he might riot. 

He groans in despair, setting his mug down and yanking at the fabric with more force than necessary until he can free it from the cushions. It’s Taehyung’s pink sweater - the one he got from some thrift store a few years ago. Jimin can recognize it easily because it’s one of Taehyung’s favorites. Which honestly might explain how it got tucked away, because it probably wasn’t involved in the crossfire of Taehyung’s earlier fashion meltdown.

It’s obvious that it’s been here a while, and Jimin just hadn’t noticed. 

Jimin doesn’t know how though - this thing is rank. 

Taehyung has a tendency not to wash his sweaters, mainly because he reads any “dry clean only” label as a sign that it doesn’t need to be cleaned. Or maybe he thinks it’s clean as long as it’s dry? Jimin doesn’t know. The point is it smells bad. Like, “has never been washed at all” bad. 

And Jimin finds himself pressing his face into the fabric regardless. Which is gross. Objectively gross. It smells just as rank as he could have anticipated, and worst at the pits, where Taehyung has clearly never smelled himself. Musky and acidic and very alpha, and Jimin feels very silly realizing what he’s done, quickly yanking the fabric away from his nose. 

He doesn’t know why the fuck he did that. He just knows he felt like he had to.

He’s near his preheat, which is almost certainly the reason, but still. Yuck. Usually the suppressants work to curb most of his baser instincts, but they’re not always 100% effective, and Jimin isn’t too proud to admit that Taehyung’s scent is attractive. 

Unfortunately still attractive even at its most… potent.

Jimin sighs, turning the sweater over and over in his hands as he thinks about what to do. The fabric is soft against his palms. Jimin doesn’t have to wonder why Taehyung likes it. It’s well-made and pretty and Jimin would wear it all the time too if he owned something like this. 

Jimin likes that Taehyung is the kind of alpha who likes pink. 

He could wash it himself, he supposes, but he doesn’t really have the energy to go to the dry cleaner, and by this point it probably isn’t even open anyway. He can’t really wash it by hand either - he doesn’t want to risk ruining the fabric. Plus, it’s Taehyung’s, so shouldn’t he wash it?

Except Jimin knows he won’t. 

Jimin knows that, in all likelihood, if this sweater goes back into Taehyung’s room it will end up on the floor and then it will just as quickly end up once more on Taehyung’s body and the idea of dry cleaning it at all will be a fleeting notion at best. And Jimin just hates the idea of that right now. It itches under his skin, Taehyung not being clean - Taehyung smelling too strong. And so he holds onto the fabric a little tighter and considers his options.

It’s late in the evening now, but the cleaners open early in the morning. He could take it there himself early before class and then return it to Taehyung’s room the following afternoon. It’s probably been sitting amongst the couch cushions for at least a few days anyway, meaning Taehyung probably wouldn’t miss it. Jimin could just bring it to his room for now. It’s the obvious solution. Bring it inside, away from the living room, and then clean it tomorrow. 

And so Jimin gets up and does just that. He sets the sweater on his bedside table, as a reminder to himself tomorrow to bring it to the cleaners, right next to his alarm clock so he can’t forget. Afterwards, he tucks himself back into the couch cushions with his somewhat cooled-down mug of tea and his blanket and he feels content with his plan. 

Tomorrow, he’ll have the satisfaction of a clean house, and today the satisfaction of a clean living room. 

He ignores the fact that his omega purrs.

——

Jimin doesn’t go to the dry cleaners. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to - he does - but sometimes you wake up later than your alarm, and no amount of wishing can allot the time needed to both go to the cleaners and make it to practice on time. 

And Hoseok - his TA - isn’t known to be kind to Jimin when he’s running late, so there really isn’t any other option. 

So when Jimin returns home that afternoon, sweaty and overworked but satisfied in the way he only ever feels after a good dance session, he shouldn’t be surprised to see the sweater still folded on his bedside table. 

And he isn’t surprised - not by that. But he’s a little surprised by the entire pile of scarves in the dining room. 

Or maybe surprised isn’t the word - maybe irked is more accurate. Not angry - he’s used to it by now - but Jesus Christ, how does he live like this? Jimin feels his good mood from his lessons slowly drain away as he surveys the mess he’ll inevitably have to deal with.

Taehyung is home this time, his presence obvious as he bangs around in his own room. Fridays are always relaxed for Taehyung. He only has one morning lecture, and then he spends the remainder of his time doing… whatever it is Taehyung does. Apparently today it involves scarves. 

On the table.

Jimin kind of wants to crawl out of his own skin just looking at it.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin groans with theatrics as he deposits his bag in his room and then approaches the mess on the dining table. “What is this?”

“What’s what?” Taehyung calls back. The banging around doesn’t stop but it slows down, so he’s listening. 

“What do you think I’m talking about?”

“Not a clue!”

Jimin huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes fondly despite his irritation as he begins picking up the scarves. It looks like Taehyung was attempting to organize them himself, maybe, but got distracted halfway through and just abandoned the task. Typical. 

“Taehyung, we can’t eat dinner if you use the table as a dresser,” Jimin calls back, and after a moment more Taehyung finally pops his head out to see what Jimin means, only to grin sheepishly as he catches sight of his own mess. 

“Oops?” he tries, stepping out into the living room with a box in his hands. 

It’s his jewelry box, and Jimin already knows what’s coming even before he watches it happen, as Taehyung dumps the entire container onto the coffee table and then sits himself down on the floor beside it. It would appear Taehyung has decided to organize his things, meaning Jimin will be organizing too. 

Okay. That’s fine.

Jimin is sweaty, and while he’d really love nothing more than to rinse off with a hot shower and crawl directly into bed, he knows that won’t happen with the living room in the state of disarray that it is. 

Taehyung does this every once in a while with his accessories. He gets fed up that he can’t find something and so he lays it all out so he can pick through. And because his room is a nightmare with almost no surface space to speak of, he does that in the living room. 

Which is fine, usually. It’s usually fine. Jimin is just sweaty and his stomach still sort of hurts and he kind of wishes that maybe this once Taehyung could have a little respect for their shared space. And embarrassingly enough, this time around he kind of feels like crying at the sight, which is so ridiculous. 

It’s okay, he knows, it’s just the preheat making him irritable. His heats only come twice a year - which could be worse - but the period beforehand is always a minefield for his emotions. And so Jimin takes a deep breath to calm himself down before he can get worked up, and then sits beside Taehyung on the floor. Because at least if he helps him out the mess might get cleared away faster, and Jimin might have at least a chance of settling his omega for the time being.

God, preheat fucking sucks. 

Sitting with Taehyung, though, is nice. Even with the jittery energy under his skin, Jimin finds himself easily calmed as he sprawls out beside his best friend, sorting through bracelets and rings and all the pretty things that Taehyung loves and Jimin pretends not to. He likes jewelry, there’s just… stigma about it, he guesses. Omegas are supposed to like shiny things - that’s the stereotype. They like to be decorated, dolled up as another possession for an alpha to own. And Jimin hates being put in a box, so he’s always shunned the idea. But sifting his hand through the beads he can’t help but smile. 

He has to admit, the texture is really, really nice. 

“You should wear more jewelry,” Taehyung suggests after a few minutes of sorting. He lifts up one of his pearl earrings to hold against Jimin’s face. Jimin bats it away without pause, tossing Taehyung a pointed look. “What!” Taehyung argues, raising his hand right back up again with a smile. “You’d look so good and you know it.”

And Jimin does know it. Or, at least, right now he thinks he loves the idea, which is maybe why after a few minutes of back and forth he allows Taehyung to clip some earrings onto him. And then a bracelet, and a necklace. Two rings. Another necklace. Until Jimin is positively decked out and Taehyung is grinning like he won the lottery, and Jimin can’t even pretend to be mad about it anymore because God Taehyung is so endearing when he wants to be. 

They continue on like that, laughing together at the coffee table and clipping jewelry to one another, until Taehyung checks his watch and seems to realize that what’s felt like minutes has in fact been hours. 

And then, just as quickly as their impromptu playdate began, Taehyung is hopping up in a rush, fretting that he has dinner planned with Jungkook and how did he let it get this late!  

He apologizes to Jimin with a boyish smile as he scurries around to collect his bag and his shoes and everything he’ll need for his evening out, and then he’s gone. 

Gone, with a mess of beads and gems and trinkets in his wake. Typical. 

Jimin sighs, sitting back against the couch with his legs kicked out as he tries to come back to himself now that Taehyung’s gone. It’s always so easy to get swept up in his antics - Jimin sometimes wonders how they ever get anything done. He lets himself sit for a few moments, his tiredness from before finally coming back to his limbs. He needs to clean up, he knows, but the thought alone is exhausting. Sitting on the floor was maybe a bad idea - it’s very hard to get off the floor. 

Jimin has half a mind to close his eyes and take a catnap right then and there, but he knows he can’t really. The tables are both still covered in Taehyung’s crap - as is the kitchen if he had to take a guess - and if he wants to get any actual rest today, he’ll need to clean it up. Waiting will only result in pissing off his wolf. 

So after a few moments of reprieve Jimin hoists himself up and gets sorting, if for no reason other than to be able to go to sleep as soon as physically possible. 

The jewelry is pretty easy, all he needs to do is place the pieces back in their designated slots in the box. It’s made easier by the fact that although he and Taehyung spent most of their time joking around, they did actually manage to sort some things out. All Jimin has to do is slide them where they go, and if he opts to sort them by color as well that’s nobody's business but his own. 

He carries the box back into Taehyung’s room, placing it carefully where it goes on the top of the dresser. It’s obvious that that’s where it goes because every other surface is covered with clutter in typical Taehyung fashion. Jimin licks his lips as he surveys the space with distaste. It looks like Taehyung attempted to sort his socks too, because the entire surface of the bed is covered with unfolded pairs. Jimin doesn’t even want to think about what the closet looks like. 

Jimin doesn’t clean Taehyung’s room. That was something they made clear when they came to the realization that Jimin would have to be responsible for organizing the living room space. Taehyung can be as messy as he wants in his own space, and as long as he keeps the door closed it won’t bother Jimin. They agreed. 

But Jimin looks at the socks on the bed and, despite the weariness he still feels from a long day of classes, he can’t help but twitch to organize it all. 

It’s just so messy. It’s messy and it’s frustrating because Taehyung has a sock drawer with ample space to fit it all. And these are clearly clean socks, meaning if he’s too lazy to sort everything later and they end up on the floor it will be a complete waste. And Jimin is already in here, anyway. He’ll have to come in again when he brings the scarves from the table. 

And if the socks are all over the bed there will be no room for the scarves. 

So, really, he should sort it. It’s not like Taehyung would be upset if he did. He’d be grateful, if anything. Save him the effort and soothe the discomfort under Jimin’s skin. A win-win, really. 

Jimin makes quick work of the socks. Socks are so easy to fold, and Taehyung at least had the forethought to lay them out in pairs so it’s even quicker. Jimin folds them all how he likes them, working nimbly and without pause, until he stops in his tracks at one pair in particular. 

They’re Taehyung’s novelty banana socks. They’re completely ridiculous, with worn holes at the toes and heels and a garish pattern that Jimin would never even think of putting on his own body. Taehyung loves them. So much so that he outright refuses to throw them out.

These socks aren’t clean. 

Jimin can tell from the moment he lifts them up to fold, the texture grimier than they would be if they were recently washed. They aren’t gross by any stretch of the imagination - not nearly as bad as they could be - but they’re definitely not clean. Taehyung probably wore them inside for a few hours before taking them off and considered them passable to wear a second time. 

Which is fine, Jimin’s done that before, too. Except Jimin looks at them right now and he wants to rip his hair out at even the idea. They can’t be put in the same drawer as the clean socks. They aren’t clean. 

But he can’t just leave them on the bed either. The whole point was to clean off the bed in the first place. Leaving them there will make the bed dirty and then Jimin would have to clean the whole bed and he’s not quite sure how he would explain that choice to Taehyung. 

And then he remembers the sweater on his bedside table. 

He needs to dry clean the sweater anyway. It wouldn’t be hard to wash the socks too. He has laundry to do soon. He could add this pair in with his own laundry when he washes his clothes tonight. Or maybe tomorrow. He thinks he’ll probably do his laundry in the morning.

So it’s settled. Jimin stands up, ready to head into his room to add these socks to his laundry pile, but stops to reconsider. Because these socks are dirty, but that doesn’t mean they’re the only dirty thing in Taehyung’s room. And if Jimin is cleaning these, it would probably be nice to wash anything else that needs washing too. Right? It’s unlikely that Taehyung has all that much dirty laundry right now anyway. Considering the socks on his bed, he probably did the wash relatively recently, which only makes Jimin more confident in his decision. 

He should make it so all of Taehyung’s clothing is as clean as it can be. 

Yeah. 

Jimin peers into Taehyung’s closet, pleased to find that he was correct in his assumption. The hamper is relatively empty, just a few items at the bottom, probably from the last day or so. Jimin reaches in without a second thought, pulling up a tee-shirt, shorts and a pair of boxers. He combines them with the socks on the bed and then carries it all into his room, setting the pile next to the sweater on the bedside table. 

This way he won’t forget. He’ll see the pile in the morning and remember to wash it all. Taehyung probably won’t even be back until later anyway. Dinner with Jungkook always runs well into the evening. Jimin will be able to have everything clean and back where it belongs without Taehyung even knowing it’s gone. 

He smiles to himself as he heads back into the living room to finish his tidying, this time moving the scarves off the table to put back in Taehyung’s room. He hangs them up on the hooks behind the door where they belong - sorting everything by color and length as he goes, and loving the feeling in his chest as everything gets moved back in place.  

After it’s all set, Jimin steps back to survey his work. The room is cleaner than it’s probably been in months, and Jimin can’t help but preen at the thought. Taehyung could stand to allow him in here more often to organize everything. It really didn’t take that long and look at how good it all looks now! 

With his omega finally soothed by the lack of clutter, Jimin finally feels some of the buzzing under his skin subside, and comes to realize how chilly he feels. The apartment runs cold in the winter - the insulation kind of sucks - and Jimin’s been scurrying around in just a tee-shirt and sweats from his dance class. 

And so without thinking, Jimin reaches up and takes down one of the scarves that he’d only just hung up, winding the fabric around his neck. It’s Taehyung’s gray cashmere scarf, the soft one that he loves to wear to fancy parties because he thinks it makes him look sophisticated. The fabric feels wonderful against his skin and he no longer feels the chill at all. 

He doesn’t own any nice scarves like this. He’s grateful to have a roommate who does. Jimin tucks his nose into the fabric, enjoying the scent that lingers, and then heads back into the living room to make himself cozy on the couch. 

He passes by the hallway mirror as he goes, catching sight of the jewelry from earlier that still decorates him all over. He should probably remove it, but he isn’t feeling all that motivated at the moment. All he wants to do is settle in and enjoy his evening. He can return them before he goes to bed. 

Taehyung won’t mind. 

----

Jimin wakes up the next morning feeling cold. Like, really cold. 

He squints his eyes open from under his blanket where he’s nestled himself in and shivers even before he’s poked his head out. The air is freezing, and his thin sleepshirt and boxers aren’t cutting it in the slightest. 

He considers just staying under the warmth of the blanket forever, but he really can’t. Jimin isn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s never been one to go in and out of sleep. When he’s up, he’s up, and now that his stomach has realized he’s awake, there isn’t much he can do but give in and go make himself some breakfast. 

At least on Saturdays he has the time to prepare himself a real breakfast, like waffles, which almost makes it worth it.

So after a brief moment of considering moving across the world to somewhere that isn’t positively frigid in the winter, Jimin groans and drags himself out of the safety of his bed and into the world of the living. He shivers as he gets up, tugging on his sweats and stepping into his house slippers immediately. The apartment should warm up as the day goes on, but it must have snowed or something because it can’t be more than 10 degrees inside and Jimin is afraid his teeth might start chattering. 

He slumps out into the living room with bleary eyes, the blanket from his bed pulled tightly around his shoulders. He’d normally hate to remove it from his bed, but right now sacrifices must be made for the greater good. It isn’t too early, but the cold alone has Jimin moving slowly, and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to make it to the living room. 

There, he finds Taehyung passed out on the couch, tucked up inside the throw blanket and snoring softly. He still has his makeup and jewelry on from the night before, clearly too tired from whatever he and Jungkook got up to to even make it to the bathroom to remove it all, and Jimin can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips from the sight alone. 

Taehyung looks so peaceful when he sleeps. Jimin has half a mind to curl up right alongside him and snooze the day away, but he shakes off the idea. Taehyung and Jimin cuddle, but Taehyung probably reeks from whatever he did last night, and Jimin might be bleary-eyed and slow-moving, but he’s awake enough to know he’s probably gross.

Plus, Jimin is hungry, and waffles wait for no man. 

He skirts around the couch and is just about to putter into the kitchen to start making breakfast when he stops short with a huff, looking down at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He can’t exactly cook on an open flame with all this fabric in the way. He didn’t read the lease all that well, but he’s pretty sure his landlord wouldn’t be too pleased by a kitchen fire. 

But it’s still so cold and Jimin doesn’t want to let go of the only warmth he has to speak of for his upper body. The idea of shuffling back to his own room to grab a sweatshirt isn’t any more appealing, and he lingers briefly in the kitchen with a pout, hoping that some force of magic might get him out of this pickle so he doesn’t have to find a solution himself. 

And then he sees it, thrown over the back of the dining room chair haphazardly - certain not something Jimin himself would have ever left there. A bathrobe. Taehyung’s bathrobe. 

Jimin doesn’t own a bathrobe, even though by now he probably should. He’s sprinted from the shower in just a towel (and sometimes ass-naked) more times than he’d like to admit. If he had a robe he could be so warm stepping from the shower. He’d never have to sprint again if he had a robe. 

And when he gets a robe he should really get a robe like Taehyung’s, because Taehyung’s robe is so soft and cozy. It’s long on Jimin, but if he rolls up the sleeves a little it fits just right, and without even thinking that’s what he does. 

Jimin leaves the blanket on the loveseat currently unoccupied by Taehyung’s sleeping form, and wraps himself up in the warmth of Taehyung’s comfy bathrobe. It’s ideal for staying warm while waffle making, and it smells perfect, even better once he has the batter cooking and the entire apartment is saturated with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. Jimin feels positively giddy to be bundled up in the fabric, so much so that he almost forgets the chill of the morning air as he tucks his nose in tight to the neckline and shuffles about. 

He makes enough waffles for Taehyung too, for whenever he finally gets up, and then settles himself into his blanket on the loveseat. Wrapped up tight in layers of blankets and the soft warmth of the bathrobe, Jimin thinks his omega has never been so happy. He watches dramas to his heart’s content, stuffing himself until he’s fit to burst, and just enjoys the peace of the morning snuggled in. He can’t imagine anything more perfect than this. 

Nothing good can last, however, because after Jimin has relaxed his morning away he remembers that he did, in fact, have responsibilities today. Namjoon had been all but begging him to join him on a trip to some local museum, and Jimin had committed to being there on time so they could get an early-bird discount. A window that is narrowly closing if the clock on the wall is anything to go by. 

Jimin hops up in a hurry, rushing back to the kitchen to clean up his plates and the bakeware. He covers the waffles for Taehyung and places them in the fridge with a little note so he knows they’re there. Despite the noise Jimin has been making all morning, Taehyung hasn’t moved a muscle - dead to the world, probably hungover out of his mind. Jimin knows that he’ll appreciate the waffles, even if he has to reheat them. 

After the kitchen is as spotless as it’s going to get, Jimin rushes back to his own room on light feet, grabbing his blanket along the way. He makes his bed in haste, and dresses in outside clothes just as quickly. And then he spots the pile of laundry on his bedside table and groans, because he was definitely supposed to wash clothes this morning and now there is no time at all. 

He’ll just have to wash it tonight when he gets back - whenever that might be. Namjoon had mentioned drinking after, so it could be a while, but Jimin isn’t worried. He reasons to himself that now he’ll have time to wash the bathrobe as well. He’s nearly positive he spilled some syrup on it during his breakfast, so it would only be right to clean it up before giving it back. 

Yes, absolutely that makes sense. 

Jimin leaves the bathrobe on his bed for now, in too much of a rush to find it a proper place. But he reasons he can deal with it once he’s home later in the evening. 

Peeping out the window, Jimin sees that the snow is coming down pretty hard still, which explains the cold. The subway should be fine, but he should wear a hat at least to keep his ears warm. 

He tugs a beanie off the coat rack as he scurries out the door, shooting off a text to Namjoon in the process, and it’s only once he’s reached the station that he realizes his mistake. The beanie is one of Taehyung’s - the one he wears out to the gym sometimes. It’s not overly smelly, but in preheat Jimin’s nose is a bit more sensitive, so he can tell. 

It’s not too bad though - if anything it smells nice. Which is a little weird, maybe, but Taehyung doesn’t need to know he thinks that. 

Jimin figures it’s okay. After all, Taehyung was asleep when he left. He probably won’t even notice it’s gone. 

-----

Drinking with Namjoon and Yoongi and Seokjin is very, very fun, but Jimin isn’t too full of himself to admit that he might have overdone it. 

The problem with drinking with alphas is that their tolerance is absurd. Jimin has a high tolerance. He has a really high tolerance for an omega. He can knock back five shots and walk in a straight line, no problem. Unlike Namjoon, who drinks one beer and gets immediately silly. For a beta, his tolerance is nonexistent. But Yoongi and Seokjin are alphas, and alphas can drink until they drop. And Jimin has never seen Yoongi drop. 

What makes it worse is that Jimin and Yoongi have always had quite the competitive relationship. They’re both like that - they love to rile each other up. And when Yoongi had proposed they go shot for shot, despite every plea from Namjoon to refuse, Jimin had accepted. And he went fucking shot for shot alright. 

He went shot for shot until he was puking in the bathroom - Namjoon keeping him company but with very little sympathy for the wounded. Jimin thinks he probably could have kept going, but he always forgets how much worse his tolerance is when he’s in preheat. It takes him down a notch and it makes the competition far too easy for Yoongi. 

Jimin may have argued, once he returned from the bathroom, that he was good to keep going, but the idea was shot down by his friends. Because his friends are no fun. 

Jimin feels fine, to be clear. He only puked once, and it was so fast that it basically cleared out his system, but tell that to the hovering alphas waiting to save the damsel omega in distress. It’s only a bit past midnight, but Jimin is ushered out of the bar pretty quickly after, with orders from Seokjin to get home safe, and orders from Yoongi to pony up the bar tab next time. 

It’s all in good fun, though, and Jimin can’t help but agree that he should probably be getting home soon anyway. He hadn’t really intended to stay out so late, but happy hour had turned into dinner, which had turned into drinks, which had turned into stumbling home just on the right side of silly-drunk.

Jimin walks home with Namjoon most of the way, until they hit the train station where Jimin will take the subway back to his apartment and Namjoon will walk the rest of the way to his place. Jimin feels warm and fuzzy as they part - fluid in the way he only ever gets to be when he’s tipsy. He spends the train ride back staring out the window and kicking his feet and feeling all-around pleasant. 

The walk back from the train is a little bit less pleasant, though. 

Jimin isn’t a scaredy-cat - not by a longshot. He’s always been really strong for an omega. He has a fucking black belt in taekwondo. But still, there’s something a little bit nerve-wracking when it’s late and you’re alone and you have to walk past a group of alphas who look as equally tipsy as you. 

Because alphas like that aren’t ever quiet. Why would they be? And standing out on the road smoking and drinking, they don’t seem to care how it makes him feel when they stop talking suddenly to watch him walk by. Quiet alphas are worse than loud alphas. Quiet alphas are looking at you. 

Jimin isn’t afraid, per se. He’s pretty positive he’s seen these guys around before. They’re leaning up against the wall of a local bar, and they don’t necessarily look unfriendly. It’s just uncomfortable is all, and being in preheat certainly doesn’t help. He’s sure he doesn’t smell all that strong yet - his symptoms tend to last a while before anything really starts to be noticeable - but still. It doesn’t help the discomfort in his stomach being ogled this late at night. He might be strong, but he’s still a lone omega, and he’s drunk. 

Nobody would blame him for being a little nervous. 

Jimin reaches up to pull the beanie more fully over his ears in defense. Taehyung’s scent lingering on the fabric is calming. It makes him feel protected, even when he doesn’t need protection and it’s not like it would actually do jack shit to help him. Sometimes instincts don’t make sense, and right now Jimin’s instinct is to tuck himself into his alpha’s embrace, because that makes him feel better. 

Well. 

Not his alpha, but certainly an alpha. Taehyung smells like home and comfort and so Jimin feels comfortable. Jimin doesn’t bother lingering on the logic behind it. The point is that he feels better, and that’s all he really cares about right now. It’s certainly all his wolf cares about. 

Luckily, within no time he’s made it past the group and turned the corner towards his apartment unscathed. They don’t follow, and Jimin truly hadn’t expected them to, but his omega relaxes finally and therefore so does Jimin. 

But even though he feels calmer as he walks back into his apartment just as the clock is ticking past one am, Jimin can’t help but still be a little bit on edge. Sometimes he really hates being an omega, honestly. He hates the feeling of being powerless, and heats are like the epitome of powerlessness. It sucks, having to worry constantly. He’s at the mercy of anyone with a functioning nose for the better part of two weeks, and it’s honestly kind of humiliating. 

The thought makes his good mood from before turn sour in his stomach. 

Jimin kicks off his shoes, placing them neatly onto the shoe rack and then slipping into his house shoes. The apartment is cold, as usual, but it’s still a reprieve from the chilliness of the winter air outside. Jimin could take off Taehyung’s beanie but he doesn’t. Tomorrow’s another day.

Jimin is still a little tipsy - that much becomes clear as he begins his path down the entryway and to his bedroom. He stumbles almost immediately, the culprit being Taehyung’s nice loafers, dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the hallway. He stares down at the offending shoes for a moment before righting himself by holding onto the wall. 

Stupid Taehyung and his stupid shoes. 

Jimin reaches down and picks up the shoes, casting a glance back towards the shoe rack with distaste. He doesn’t want to walk all the way back just to come right back here again. His balance is iffy enough as is, who knows if he’ll make it back a second time. 

He’ll just bring the shoes to his room - he can put them away in the morning.

Jimin trudges forwards, shoes in hand, when he bumps into another roadblock. This time it’s a pair of jeans on the ground by the edge of the couch. And then he looks up and blinks hard and realizes that no, it isn’t one pair of jeans. It’s at least ten. Ten pairs of jeans strewn across the room. On the couch and the coffee table and the carpet. Light wash, dark wash, the pair Taehyung bought for cheap with rhinestones all over the ass. 

Jimin thinks if he wasn’t so tipsy he’d scream. Lucky for him, his wolf tends to get a little muted when he drinks too much, so Taehyung gets spared the impromptu wakeup. Instead Jimin just grumbles, reaching down to yank up the first pair of jeans off the floor. It’s followed shortly by the next and the next until Jimin has the entire pile in his arms, the loafers still held loosely by his fingertips. 

Taehyung’s door is closed, meaning he’s back home and in bed, and so the only option is to bring everything in his own room for the time being. It certainly can’t be left in the living room. Definitely not. Jimin may be a little bit off his ass but he doesn’t want to even think about the idea of waking up to that mess. 

His wolf would have a breakdown, he’s near positive about that. 

Jimin hugs the piles of denim close to his chest as he nudges the door to his room open with his shoulder. He’s more tired than he thought he was, the alcohol finally turning his mood from slightly silly to just plain sleepy. His eyes are drooping even as he shuffles across the floor, and suddenly the idea of folding all these fucking jeans and putting them away seems exhausting. 

Jimin sighs, surveying the situation with distaste. He hates when his room is a mess. He hates it and his omega especially hates it, but Jimin thinks his wolf might just have to deal. 

He tosses the jeans on the bed, next to the bathrobe from earlier, and then slips out of his own jeans and into his nightshirt to sleep. He folds his jeans neatly and tucks them into the drawer where they belong, and then he turns back to the mess on his bed, shoulders slumping. 

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to just go to bed, right? 

Jimin thinks there are a lot of things that could be worse, and he’s too tired to think of them. So before he can think better of it, he shuts off the overhead light and slips in under the covers. Maybe he should feel grossed out by all the outside clothes on his bed, but he probably ought to clean this comforter anyway. As long as it all stays on the top it shouldn’t be a problem. 

He falls asleep nestled tightly beneath the covers, with the beanie still pulled low over his forehead, and despite everything, he feels more secure than he has in ages. 

----

No matter what anybody says, jeans are not as uncomfortable of a pillow as you might think. Jimin doesn’t really expect to be using them as one, but life comes at you fast, he supposes. 

In any case, Jimin wakes up the next morning to the slightly-heady scent of the crotch of Taehyung’s favorite dark-wash jeans, and then spends the better part of the next few hours pretending he didn’t do exactly that. Which isn’t hard, because Jimin and his wolf have other, more pressing matters to concern themselves with. 

Namely, the fact that his preheat has progressed past the point of low-level discomfort and straight into an itchiness under his skin that just won’t quit. It’s his least favorite part of preheat - when it seems like no matter what he does, he can’t soothe his wolf. It’s annoying. He feels constantly needy for attention, even when he simultaneously wishes nobody would look at him at all. He’s been told - mainly by his mother and siblings - that it makes him immensely annoying to be around. Which Jimin can tolerate being said about him once he’s not on an emotional rollercoaster, but would probably make him cry if he heard it now. 

And so Jimin is, to put it nicely, on edge.

It’s Sunday morning, meaning it’s the day Jimin and Taehyung mark off to hang out together, and Jimin isn’t in the best of moods for it. It’s partially due to the raging hangover he’s sporting, and partially due to the fact that Taehyung seems to have forgotten, if his mindless roaming about is anything to go by. 

Jimin walks out of his room, bleary-eyed as always, to find Taehyung at the kitchen counter chopping carrots. For a moment he’s excited by it, because Taehyung is an excellent cook, and his omega preens at the idea of being taken care of, but his reaction is quickly tampered down when he spots Taehyung’s wheelie suitcase sitting beside him.

Jimin and Taehyung don’t have a trip planned. It would have been on their calendars - Jimin would remember a day trip. Laughably, he almost convinces himself that maybe Taehyung is surprising him, but that, too, is unlikely.

Taehyung and Jimin are roommates. They don’t plan surprise trips for one another. Taehyung doesn’t cook Jimin elaborate breakfasts or anything of the sort - to assume he might today would be ridiculous. 

Jimin has to get it together. 

“What are you making?” Jimin asks politely, as he toes his way into the kitchen to start up the coffee machine. He’s shrugged on a sweater from his closet to combat the chill of the morning, and the fabric scratches along his skin in a way that makes him want to scream. It should be softer. It smells wrong. Jimin does everything in his power to fight against the instinct to just rip it off altogether. 

“Carrot cake,” Taehyung smiles as Jimin pokes his head over his shoulder with curiosity. Taehyung pops a carrot slice in his own mouth and then pulls up a second to feed to Jimin. It’s an act of domesticity that Jimin can’t help but be endeared by, even as his eyes stay locked on the wheelie suitcase. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Jimin asks, trying not to pout. He tilts his head to the side, nuzzling into Taehyung’s neck. He can’t help but think he smells wrong today, and it irks him. He needs Taehyung to smell right, and though he tries to hold his wolf back from pouncing to fix it, he doubts he does a very good job. 

If Taehyung’s overwhelmed giggling is anything to go by, he’s probably done the opposite. After a few seconds of Jimin’s overzealous scenting, Taehyung squirms and raises his shoulders, effectively cutting off Jimin’s access to his neck, and so Jimin backs off - even if it irritates his wolf to no fucking end. 

“Visiting my mom,” Taehyung sighs, after Jimin has finally moved back and given Taehyung space to resume chopping. “She asked me to come home for a couple days to surprise my sister for her birthday. I should be back by tomorrow evening.”

Jimin hums noncommittally, leaning back against the counter as he watches Taehyung work. He sips at his coffee, hoping the heat will warm him from the inside-out and help with this stupid funk he’s in. He’s not allowed to be upset that Taehyung is leaving to visit his sister. It’s her birthday, of course he should go. 

Jimin would just prefer he doesn’t go while still smelling wrong. That’s all. 

“Is that okay?” Taehyung asks after the silence has lingered, and Jimin realizes that his own scent has probably soured. His suppressants are working as hard as they can, but they can’t really do much about the scent changes. With all the preheats he’s had over the years, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to it. 

“Yeah, of course, Taehyungie,” Jimin smiles, opting to step forward to wrap his arms around Taehyung’s waist. He can feel Taehyung hum, and he dips his nose into the back of his neck again, this time working hard to avoid going overboard. It’s mainly just for comfort, and it works just as well as intended. Cuddling up with Taehyung always makes him feel better. “Bring back your mom’s leftovers if there are any.”

“She’s making so much food, I’m sure I’ll have a lot to bring back,” Taehyung replies with a laugh, and then he surprises Jimin, dropping his knife to the cutting board and spinning back around to face him. His arms come up to loop over Jimin’s shoulders, a far more intimate position than Jimin was anticipating to have this morning. 

“Are you really okay, though?” Taehyung asks, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth for a moment. “You’ve just seemed… off, recently.” 

Jimin blushes, looking down and away and hoping Taehyung doesn’t notice. He doesn’t want to talk about his symptoms, and he’d sort of hoped that Taehyung just wouldn’t bring it up. It’s not like Jimin even has the actual heats themselves anymore - which was something he’d had to explain to Taehyung before they’d moved in together. He has his preheats twice a year, but the suppressants take care of the rest. It’s some kind of hormonal regulation, his doctor had told him when she’d first given him the prescription. 

He doesn’t exactly want to hide his cycle from Taehyung, but is it really something they need to talk about? 

Jimin breathes in deeply once and then exhales, hoping that his face is a bit less cherry red by the time he looks up again. Taehyung, for his part, doesn’t seem uncomfortable at least, which is good. Jimin doesn’t think he could handle it if Taehyung reacted badly - not with the way his emotions are swinging wildly today. 

“I’m good,” Jimin finally replies, smoothing his hand up Taehyung’s back to rub lightly at his shoulder blade. “I promise. I’m a little bit out of sorts, maybe, but I’m okay.”

Taehyung purses his lips, not seeming to like that answer, but Jimin isn’t sure what else he can say. Does he want Taehyung to go? Hell no. But there isn’t really any other option, at least none that he can see.

Plus, he is okay. It’s just preheat. 

“I promise,” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes as Taehyung remains unconvinced. “Go have a good time with your sister. I’ll be here when you get home.” He pauses, assessing Taehyung for a moment and then continues, “but you will owe me a hangout when you’re back. This is Taehyungie-Jiminie time that you’re cutting into. It’s sacred.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans, confirming what Jimin already knew - that he forgot. “I’ll make it up to you the moment I get back. I’ll make a sign, like when you arrive at an airport.”

“You’re taking the train.”

“I don’t see your point, Jimin. Do they not let you bring signs to the train?”

“I’m not meeting you at the station.”

“I’ll slide it under your door.”

“Okay.”

Jimin and Taehyung burst into giggles, and Jimin feels some of the tension drain out of his shoulders as he collapses forward to cling more tightly onto Taehyung. 

He still doesn’t like the idea of him leaving - his wolf is certainly against it - but he wasn’t lying. It’s just preheat, it isn’t something he’s never dealt with before on his own. And he says as much to Taehyung, who finally relents. 

Afterwards it’s easy, even if Jimin still feels a little bit off-center for the rest of the morning. He sits perched on the couch as Taehyung puts together his carrot cake and then packs up everything into his suitcase for the trip. He’s catching a train right before lunch, so he has to leave early, but he allows Jimin to scent him before he goes, if only to calm his wolf. 

And once Taehyung has left, Jimin tries to ignore the buzzing that slips immediately back under his skin. He tries to ignore it as he wanders around, picking up Taehyung’s things strewn about, and washing his pots and pans in the sink. He tries to ignore it as he all but rips his own sweater off and rifles through Taehyung’s closet for one of his soft, fuzzy ones, pulling it on right then and there. He tries to ignore it, even as he picks up the sweatpants Taehyung clearly slept in, dragging them back into his own room without thought. 

But he stops having to ignore it once he crawls into his own bed, under the piles of jeans and a bathrobe, the stinky sweater and a smelly beanie, and a pair of unfolded banana-print socks. 

He stops having to ignore it, because the buzzing goes away entirely. 

----

Jimin didn’t mean to nap, he swears, but it’s not like he really regrets it.

Preheat isn’t any fun. It feels like getting run over by a truck emotionally and then the truck comes back around to run you over physically, too. The suppressants make it more tolerable, certainly, but they mainly work to handle the more physical reactions. He’s definitely glad to not be a slicked-up disaster right now, but the fact that his body still feels like this tells him all he really needs to know about where he is in his cycle. 

He’s probably got about two more days before the absolute worst hits, after which the hormone replacement will finally kick in and his body will regulate. But before then it’s going to be at the very least uncomfortable - at worst, downright unbearable. Sleeping is really one of the few times when he doesn’t feel like every part of his body is out of joint, so he admittedly sleeps a fair amount more than usual during his cycle. 

But even so, he can only nap for so long.

Jimin sighs, peering out of his cocoon to glance at the clock on his bedside table. It’s late afternoon now - the winter sun only barely still peeking in through the window - and Jimin feels like his heart is beating double-time despite the peace of the afternoon. 

One thing he really hates about preheat is just the general wrongness that comes with it. It’s like his body can sense that something’s off, but can’t figure out what it is, and it leaves him struggling to no end trying to piece together something that can quell the discomfort. Historically, that’s been achieved with a lot of scenting and as much physical contact as his alpha siblings were willing to deal with, but that isn’t much of an option now, living away from his family. 

He’ll just have to find something else to ease the ache.

The moment Jimin drags himself out of his bed he’s already itching to move. His skin feels electrified, like someone has set a low flame to all his nerve endings, and despite the winter chill, the idea of swathing himself in any additional fabric makes him want to hiss. 

He’s irritable from the start, and it only gets worse as he mopes into the shower only to find that Taehyung took his soft-scented shower gel with him on his trip. Which is fine, it’s Taehyung’s stuff after all. He’s allowed to take it wherever he wants, Jimin guesses. 

But the idea of using his own shower gel makes him want to curl up into a ball and throw a tantrum like a toddler, so that won’t work. He wants to smell right, and he isn’t going to smell right if he smells like vanilla and honey or whatever the fuck his own scented lotion says on the bottle. He doesn’t know what he should smell like but it isn’t that. 

Jimin pouts, before noticing that Taehyung left his shampoo behind. It isn’t quite the same, but it’ll have to do. It’s better than using his own, at least with this he’ll smell moderately closer to how he should. 

He lathers the shampoo in his hands and then rubs it into his hair with force, trying to clear out the matted sweat from his last few days of being a little bit on the wrong side of stinky. For good measure he rubs the lather on his neck and armpits too, only stopping himself before he does the same to the scent glands at his groin because - no. Shampoo probably shouldn’t be used there, even though something in him itches to do it anyway. 

God, his wolf is such a fucking menace when it wants something. 

Jimin rinses himself off after a few moments, enjoying the heat of the water against his skin. It doesn’t help all that much to appease his instincts, but he doesn’t feel worse which is kind of the best he can hope for at this point. Afterwards, he steps out of the shower, dragging Taehyung’s towel off the rack because he accidentally left his own in the laundry. 

Normally he’d just sprint across the hall, but it’s too cold for that, and it’s not like Taehyung is home to notice anyway. The towel is still damp from when Taehyung showered this morning, but Jimin finds he doesn’t mind, opting to rub himself thoroughly down anyway. Even if it’s damp, it still does the job. 

Peeking into the living room, the towel wrapped around his shoulders, Jimin isn’t sure what the plan is next. He feels better from the shower, but not right, and he doesn’t really have anything else to do today. Normally he spends his Sundays with Taehyung, and that’s not really an option, so his calendar is wide open. 

Which on any other day would be a blessing, but today it just makes his skin crawl. He needs to be doing something, desperately. He just doesn’t know what that is. 

Pouting again, Jimin pads out into the living room and surveys the space. Taehyung, in his usual fashion, has left the apartment in a whirlwind - things Jimin hadn’t noticed before his nap. There are knick-knacks strewn across the dining room table, loose pieces of jewelry on the counter, a tie draped over the back of a chair. Jimin scoops them up one by one, wrapping the tie around his neck and putting the jewelry on himself for simplicity. Taehyung’s left his watch on the countertop, so Jimin puts that on too. It’s just easier to carry that way, considering he’s still only wrapped up in the towel with no pockets to speak of. He sets the trinkets from the dining room on his bed for now and then walks back to continue organizing. 

The couch is a little too far to the left, so he pushes it back into place. And then he notices that the dining table is wobbly where it sits half on the carpet and half off, so he opts to put it entirely off the carpet. He finds it looks much better there, anyway. 

And it’s only after he’s moved nearly all the decor in the living room that he realizes what he’s doing and groans in despair. A nest. He’s building a fucking nest in the living room. 

Jesus. 

It’s not that bad, honestly, not the most absurd nest he’s ever built, but there’s no getting around the fact that that’s what this is. The couches are pushed together to create the illusion of a bed, with the coffee table moved far out of the way to allow for a nice and neat place to cuddle in. It’s so stupid - it looks ridiculous. 

Jimin thinks about moving it and immediately recoils at even the idea. 

It’s not like this is all that… weird. Omegas nest. Everyone knows that omegas nest. He used to do it sometimes when his heats got really bad before he got on suppressants. The weirdest part was he never even knew he was doing it until he’d find himself surrounded by every blanket in the living room, with no recollection of how he got there. His alpha siblings would poke fun at him for it, but they never stopped him, always allowing their things to be stolen and added to the pile. It made Jimin feel secure, building a safe place to settle in. He remembers his older brother, the only other omega in his immediate family, would join him sometimes and they’d cuddle for hours. There was nothing better. 

So it’s not unheard of - certainly not unheard of for Jimin. He just feels a little silly doing it in the shared space. A nest isn’t just private - it’s admittedly a little inconvenient, too. Because if you don’t get in the nest, where the fuck else is there to sit? 

It would be a little rude to Taehyung to leave it out here. 

But then again, Jimin thinks to himself as he anxiously shuffles from foot to foot at even the idea of taking it apart, it’s not like Taehyung is home anyway. He’s gone until tomorrow evening, like he said. So, feasibly, Jimin could leave the nest up until tomorrow and it wouldn’t actually be bothering anyone. His omega would be appeased at the very least, and the room looks great like this! It’s a pretty perfect nest, if he’s honest. 

So it’s decided, then. He won’t take it down. Tomorrow’s another day. 

Jimin can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips as his omega finally settles a bit now that it knows the nest can stay where it is. He feels a little silly, but instinct is instinct - what can you do?

Feeling properly settled, Jimin pads back into Taehyung’s room to drop off the towel into the dirty laundry. He’ll wash it as a show of good roommate-ship. Very noble of him. He checks the laundry, too, finding a few pairs of boxers and some sweats. They’re sort of grimey, probably something Taehyung worked out in. 

Jimin decides he’ll wash these too. 

As he walks out he picks up a few more loose clothes on the floor - a pair of socks and a tee-shirt. God, Taehyung is messy. That’s okay though, Jimin is neat. He can clean it all up. 

In fact, he thinks, surveying the space with the new pile of laundry in his arms, a lot of things in here need to be cleaned. Jimin doesn’t even want to think about when Taehyung probably last washed his sheets or his comforter. So, before he can think better of it, he yanks those up too. He drags the lot of it back into his room, depositing it all in a pile on his bed. He needs to wash his bed anyway, soon. Once he finishes Taehyung’s laundry, he’ll wash his own. 

But maybe there are still more things to wash. If he’s going to be doing laundry, shouldn’t he make sure he gets everything? Jimin thinks so. 

He feels slightly chilly now, so Jimin leans down and pulls on the sweats from Taehyung’s pile. They smell right. They smell how Jimin should smell. And so does the tee-shirt, if he’s honest, so he yanks that on too. Jimin does it without even thinking - that lingering, uncomfortable feeling from his earlier shower resurfacing now in a nasty way. He thinks he might crawl out of his skin if he doesn’t right it soon, so he pulls on Taehyung’s socks too - just for good measure. 

It’s whatever, it doesn’t matter. He feels better for it. That’s what counts. It’s not like Taehyung’s ever been bothered by sharing clothes. 

Jimin trudges back into Taehyung’s room, feeling immensely better now that he’s surrounded by good smells. Now he can really take the time he needs to organize Taehyung’s stuff. 

He starts with the closet, pulling each item to his nose to sniff-test for whether or not it’s clean. He finds that the sweaters are almost all bad, so he pulls them all out without any second thought, starting a pile of dirty clothes on Taehyung’s bare mattress. 

The long-sleeve shirts are bad too, as are most of the tee-shirts. Even the ones that are probably clean aren’t clean enough. There are pit-stains that Taehyung’s clearly never cared about enough to bleach out, but drive Jimin up the wall, so he takes even the clean-ish shirts too. The same goes for the socks and the sweatpants. 

It all could stand to be rewashed. It would all be so much neater if it was soaked and rinsed and hung up to dry and Jimin could so easily do that. He’d feel so much better for it, and Taehyung would be so grateful to him, too. And Jimin loves being needed - his omega positively purrs at the thought. 

Taehyung’s underwear drawer is the absolute worst of it all, and so Jimin doesn’t even need to think about it as he upends the entire container into his pile on the bed. It’s all coming with. It all has to come with. 

By the time Jimin is settled, Taehyung’s room has never looked better. The closet is spotless - the floor finally clear of laundry. It’s perfect. 

It’s getting late now, though - just nearing supper time - and Jimin probably won’t have time to finish the whole task, so he decides he’ll save it for tomorrow. Yes, good. Tomorrow he’ll take everything to the laundromat and make the place absolutely perfect for when Taehyung returns. For now, he places everything into his own room on the bed in a neat pile. He’s glad that, for once, the mess doesn’t make his omega squirm, because it’s admittedly pretty messy in here. In fact, his omega seems completely calm at the entire situation, and Jimin finds that, finally, the discomfort from before has mellowed out under his skin. 

Which is great, because he honestly wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

Jimin makes himself a light dinner, and then climbs into his nest in the living room to sleep. His room is a little bit too messy to sleep there, after all. 

----

Waking up the next morning, Jimin thinks he might have to admit that this preheat is worse than his last few were. Particularly because he wakes up in the morning in his own bed, which he’s pretty positive isn’t where he went to sleep. 

He’s wrapped up in what he vaguely recognizes as Taehyung’s comforter, the piles of laundry pushed up against the headboard behind him as a makeshift pillow. He feels cozy and warm, which might explain how he made his way back in here. The living room can be especially cold at night, and with just a throw blanket to cuddle up in, it’s no wonder he got chilly and sought out the warmth of his bed. 

That being said, he hasn’t found himself preheat sleep-walking since long before he got on suppressants. Meaning the effect this time might be hitting him a teensy bit harder than usual. But at least all he did was sleepwalk back into his own room - who knows what sort of embarrassing stuff he could have gotten up to in the night. Historically it hasn’t been pretty.

And as it stands, he supposes he can’t really blame his wolf for making the decision to lead him back in here. The scent of his room is exactly how he wants it, a perfect blend of everything good. To be quite honest, he thinks maybe his wolf had the right idea. He almost doesn’t want to leave at all. 

Except it’s Monday, meaning he doesn’t really have a choice. 

Mondays are an early start, and a quick check to his alarm clock tells him that if he wants to keep his kneecaps how they are, he needs to get a move on. The first block of classes begins at nine am and Hoseok takes that start time seriously. If Jimin sneaks in late, there’s no telling what might happen. Not that sneaking in is even a possibility when it comes to Hoseok - he has eyes like a fucking hawk. 

Jimin full-body shivers at just the thought of the wrath he’ll face if he doesn’t get his ass up. Nothing is worth that. So he groans but relents, crawling out of his cocoon and into the reality of the day ahead. 

His wolf is instantly on edge. The second he’s up and out of the covers he feels the buzzing reignite under his skin. It’s worse today than it was yesterday, which isn’t really unexpected. The last few days of his preheat tend to be the worst. He remembers one year his restlessness got so bad he repainted his entire room without telling anyone. And then he got so upset by the new paint smell that he crawled under his brother’s bed and refused to leave until things went back to normal. 

Which is insane, in retrospect, but tell that to his omega. 

So Jimin has no choice but to shuffle into his house slippers and get himself ready for the day. He trudges out into the kitchen first to start the coffee machine, and then putters into Taehyung’s room to grab a pair of sweats. He doesn’t even bother considering his own at this point. The scent of the fabric will just make him irritable, and he doesn’t want to be at any further disadvantage in his classes today. His preheat already makes him slow to begin with, and popping isn’t really his forte. It’s not worth the added risk. 

However, once inside Taehyung’s room Jimin realizes his mistake, because the closet is fully empty. Which is odd, because he thinks he recalls leaving at least some things behind. He’s pretty positive he left at least the clean stuff. 

But then again, he also remembers a lot of it being dirty. Maybe there wasn’t any clean stuff?

It’s either that or they got robbed, which feels pretty unlikely, considering Taehyung’s laptop is still on his desk right where Jimin remembers it being yesterday. He doesn’t know the exact value of a cashmere sweater but it can’t be more than a MacBook. So, not a thief. Probably. 

Jimin doesn’t really have time to think further on this, considering he’s late enough as it is. With the lack of options in Taehyung’s room, Jimin heads back into his own room and drags out some clothing from the pile on his bed. And honestly, he doesn’t know why he didn’t think of this first, because the clothing there smells perfect. 

He yanks Taehyung’s pink sweater out first, and then a pair of boxers that smell so good he doesn’t even bother checking if they’re clean. And if he wastes a few seconds rubbing them against his scent gland before putting them on, well that's nobody's business but his own. He tugs on some sweats shortly after and then - still feeling a little chilly - pulls on Taehyung’s banana-print socks to round it all out. 

He might look a little strange, but at least his wolf feels pleased. This far into preheat he rarely pleases it - he has to take what he can get. 

And finally, after a cursory brush of his teeth, Jimin snags his coffee thermos from the kitchen and heads out to his lesson with over 10 minutes to spare on his commute. A win if he’s ever seen one. 

It’s a high he rides all the way to the university across town. His class with Hoseok this morning is one of his toughest, so he always feels good when he can get there early enough to have a bit of time to breathe. The traincar is relatively empty, too, which only serves to make him feel even better. He always hates being jam-packed in on the subway, and even more so when he’s this far into his preheat, and every alpha smells like a threat, no matter what he does. 

He actually has quite a bit of space on the train - a nice reprieve. 

Or at least it feels like it, until he walks into the rehearsal room and the nearest beta claps her hand straight over her nose and turns away without bothering to say hi. The remaining members of the class, sitting all the way across the room by the bar, turn their heads immediately as he walks in. And only then does Jimin think that maybe the emptiness of the train wasn’t just luck, after all. 

“Dude,” Hoseok says, barrelling over to the door before Jimin can take even a step further inside after slugging off his bag. He tugs at Jimin’s sweater, yanking him bodily into the connected office space and shutting the door behind them. “What the fuck?”

Jimin gapes for a second at the sudden turn of events before he comes to his senses, yanking the fabric back out of Hoseok’s hand and taking a step back.

“What the fuck me?” Jimin retorts, a pout already forming on his lips at Hoseok’s harsh treatment. “What the fuck you! Don’t just pull me.”

“Jimin,” Hoseok says with a glare, outright ignoring the petulance in his tone. Which is rude, by the way. “You can’t come in here covered in-” he lowers his voice, as if the rest of the dance class might be able to overhear through the thick wooden door. “- cum.”

Jimin balks, because what?

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be!”

“No, shut up!” Jimin gripes, pressing his hands to his chest defensively. He feels cornered and exposed all at once as Hoseok gestures up and down to the whole of Jimin’s body. “What are you talking about!” 

Hoseok looks at him like he might be the stupidest person on the planet, and Jimin curls in on himself at the treatment, automatically on the defense. Hoseok has a glare that could kill, and Jimin doesn’t think it’s fair to have to face it while his emotions are already on the fritz. 

“Jimin,” Hoseok says, raising his hand up to run his fingers through his hair. He looks towards the ceiling as if it might hold some answers and then shifts his attention back to where Jimin slouches back against the wall of the office. “You reek, man. Don’t tell me you can’t smell it.”

Jimin doesn’t quite know how to reply to that, because he can smell it. His nose is carefully attuned this far into his preheat - he can smell just about anything. And it just so happens that he smells exactly how he’s supposed to. Sure it’s a little strong, maybe, but it’s not bad.

Logically, though, he knows he can’t really say that. The rational part of his mind knows some aspects of his outfit aren’t exactly in the cleanest state. He knows for a fact this sweater smelled rank to him three days ago. And even if he likes how it smells now, there’s a good chance that’s the preheat talking. 

But still, it’s not fucking cum! 

“It’s not fucking cum!” Jimin hisses back, opting to keep his voice low, matching Hoseok. He doesn’t think anyone can hear through the door, but it’s really not worth taking the risk. He doesn’t need any rumors about the omega slut showing up covered in their alpha’s - no.

“Jimin,” Hoseok hisses right back, and Jimin balks at the audacity. He’s the one in preheat right now, nobody else gets to hiss. “You smell like you got fucking doused in alpha. I smelled you from down the hall and I thought the fitness class let out early. You stink, like what Jungkook’s gym socks smell like at the end of the week.” Hoseok points a finger forward.  “And trust me - they’re potent.”

Jimin cringes, reaching up to ruffle at the back of his neck anxiously. He doesn’t really… know what to say. Because now that he’s thinking about it more, he thinks Hoseok might not necessarily be lying, and that’s embarrassing to admit. It’s gross - his outfit smells gross. 

He smells gross. Oh god. 

Fuck, Jimin hates preheat so much. He feels suddenly trapped in the office with Hoseok, and it doesn’t make sense because Hoseok is his friend. His smell shouldn’t be upsetting him, but right now he thinks probably anything would. It’s so stupid because he knows Hoseok didn’t mean it that way. He’d never hurt Jimin’s feelings on purpose, it’s just the preheat messing with his senses and putting him on edge. He has to stop letting it get to him. 

But his wolf feels wrong now - he feels wrong. And against his will he finds his eyes welling up with tears and, god, this is so fucking embarrassing. 

“Jiminie,” Hoseok sighs, finally tuning into Jimin’s distress. His nose has never been all that sensitive, but Jimin is positive that if he didn’t smell rank before, with all the negative emotion swirling around in him he certainly does now. “C’mon, it’s okay.”

Jimin doesn’t cry - he isn’t actually going to cry - but he lets himself be coddled nonetheless, pulled into Hoseok’s arms and shushed. Hoseok pats his head rhythmically, and Jimin feels at least minimally better for it. Logically, he knows he’s overreacting, it’s just hard to be logical when your wolf is acting like absolutely everything is wrong. And he’d finally found a way for it to settle and now apparently that’s wrong too. It’s hard not to feel a little bit like a failure. 

“Sorry,” he huffs against Hoseok’s throat once he no longer feels like he’ll short-circuit right here in this tiny office. He pulls back with a sniff, wiping at his eyes with his knuckles. He feels agitated again, like he can’t figure out where to put his arms, so he opts to shove his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants. “It’s just, you know - preheat. I’ve been kind of off.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that word choice, but it’s fond. 

“Jimin, respectfully - I’m well aware,” he sighs. “When you came in on Friday I kind of already saw this coming. You kept doing that thing you do when you can’t quite land the turn - but like… all day. I think we all knew you were approaching your heat just from that alone.” Hoseok smiles, trying to assure Jimin that it isn’t a bad thing, but then his expression turns pained. “But you uh… dude. I’m sorry, but I really can’t let you dance smelling like that here. You have alpha all over you. It’s, like, lethal.”

Jimin glares down at his shoes. Now that his wolf has been moderately soothed by Hoseok’s comfort, Jimin can perhaps concede that he has a point. He knows these clothes reek. They aren’t covered in fluids, but they are covered in sweat. 

Which he supposes is also a fluid, but that isn’t the point. 

The point is it’s gross - clearly gross enough to distract the other dancers. He hadn’t realized how much of Taehyung’s scent he’d taken on by wearing his sweater, but it’s clearly substantial. And, laughably, his wolf seems to goddamn preen at the fact that people can smell his alpha on him which is just. It’s silly, is what it is. Taehyung isn’t his alpha, and even if he was it’s not like it does him any favors to smell like Jungkook’s week-old gym socks on the regular.

And Taehyung isn’t his alpha. He just… he smells right. Jimin’s omega likes it. Is that so wrong?

Hoseok seems to realize that Jimin is finally back to operating on a normal mental plane, so he claps a hand on his shoulder, effectively cutting off whatever train of thought Jimin’s mind was about to embark on. 

“Go home and get some rest, Jiminie,” Hoseok instructs, opening the door to lead Jimin out. 

The dance students on the other side do a great job pretending they weren’t just eavesdropping like nosey little gremlins, and Hoseok and Jimin do an equally good job acting like they don’t see them scurrying away from the door. 

“And tell Taehyung to lay off the scenting, Jesus.”

He says it as a joke, as he guides Jimin to the door, but Jimin can’t do much more than cringe in response. It would be more normal to smell like this if Taehyung was even in town. If he was here it would almost be perfectly normal to spend his preheat cuddling up together. It’s a natural comfort. A natural friend's comfort. But. Uh.

“Taehyung isn’t, ah. He isn’t actually here right now,” Jimin admits under his breath. He avoids eye contact with Hoseok as they finally make it to the exit and he grabs his backpack off the shelf where he’d had time to stow it before he was whisked away. “He’s been gone the last few days.”

Jimin shouldn’t have to explain it. Hoseok is an omega himself - he knows just as well as Jimin does that preheat sort of makes an omega go crazy. It isn’t weird to seek out an alpha’s scent. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Hoseok knows that he and Taehyung aren’t anything more than roommates. They’ve been friends for years. 

But the fact that he’s apparently drenched in his scent and said alpha isn’t even home. Well. The optics on that aren’t exactly good, regardless. 

“Huh,” Hoseok says, a grin pulling at his lips, and Jimin prepares for the worst. And he gets it. “So it is Taehyung’s scent. Isn’t it? And the puppy isn’t even here. Well, isn’t that interesting.”

Jimin doesn’t want to talk about this. Jimin doesn’t want to talk about this at all. But Hoseok is a nosey little gremlin himself when he wants to be, and he has the sheer audacity to follow Jimin out the exit and into the hall. Jesus. 

“It’s nothing,” Jimin huffs. He tugs his backpack on and crosses his arms defensively. The hallway is empty, but that doesn’t mean he wants to have this kind of conversation out here. “My omega’s just been acting out the last few days. Taehyung’s the only alpha nearby. It’s a natural reaction to latch on.”

It sounds defensive even to his own ears, and based on the grin that Hoseok is sporting, it comes off just about as realistic to him too. 

“Right,” Hoseok draws out the word, clearly teasing. “Sure, of course. Just a little interesting is all.”

“I don’t think so,” Jimin retorts.

“No?” Hoseok asks, head cocked to the side. “Your super-platonic bestie leaves for what can’t be more than two days and you go ballistic and cover yourself in his cum? That’s not interesting to you?”

“It’s not cum!”

“Jimin, smell your neck when you get home and say that to me again.”

“I’m done here,” Jimin huffs, spinning on his heel to walk away. He doesn’t make it far, Hoseok jumping forward to pin him in a hug before he can move even a few feet. 

“I’m kiddddinnggggg,” Hoseok laughs, squeezing Jimin tightly to his chest in the way he knows Jimin loves. And even if he’s still moderately peeved at Hoseok, his wolf can’t help but enjoy the physical contact. 

This is his first preheat where he hasn’t had his family members nearby - he’s probably a little touch-starved. So he pouts in return but doesn’t pull away immediately, knowing Hoseok is just teasing him in good fun. He lets himself be squeezed for a minute as Hoseok waddles them both towards the exit, making dumbass noises the whole way. He only yanks himself free once they hit the main exit. 

He shoots Hoseok a look, readjusting his backpack with a pout. 

“It’s just preheat,” he reaffirms. Because it is. “And it’s almost over - this is the last day, probably. It’s just been a bad one, that’s all.”

“You smell like Jungkook’s jockstrap.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Or actually, Taehyung’s jockstrap, more realistically.”

“Goodbye!”
Hoseok laughs again as Jimin huffs a breath and spins on his heel, pushing open the main exit with a noise of frustration. Jimin can already tell that his wolf is back to being over-agitated - the good feeling from this morning all but sapped away. Maybe Hoseok is right - even if he’s fucking wrong about most things - maybe Jimin should go home. Truly nothing sounds better than curling up in his nest and sleeping for a while. When he wakes up he’ll feel better. 

The preheat is like so close to over - he can feel it.

“Hey - maybe Taehyung should start making cologne from his cum to ward off the competition,” he hears Hoseok shout after him, just as the door is closing. “That shit would sell! ”

“Shut up!” Jimin shouts back after the door has already shut. He’s not sure Hoseok hears it but it feels good to say it anyway. 

Jimin shakes his head at the ridiculousness of that last quip as he goes. One, it’s not cum. Or, okay, he doesn’t think it is. Admittedly, he didn’t check what was on those boxers. But whatever, for his own peace of mind he’ll say it isn’t. Because that would be… odd, to say the least. Jimin swears this preheat is kicking his ass. He feels agitated thinking about the implications of it all, and specifically Hoseok’s insinuations regarding Taehyung. 

If he did cover himself in his alpha’s scent before leaving the nest - which he is not saying he did, by the way! - there are certain implications to that. Scent-marking like that is a signal to others to back off - that he isn’t available and shouldn’t be approached. And yea, Jimin doesn’t want to be approached right now. Even the idea of being around a strange alpha while he’s like this sets his heart racing. But you don’t just… do that… with an alpha you aren’t actually in a relationship with. 

And what’s more, you get marked by an alpha, not the other way around. And Jimin’s alpha isn’t even around to mark him and it’s not like he even would do that if he was because he isn’t his alpha at all! They’re friends! It’s not even like he smells that bad!

God, Jimin needs to go home. Like, now. 

He’s kind of acting like a mess, all wigged out over something that isn’t even happening. What Hoseok said put him on edge, sure, but that doesn’t make it true. He was probably exaggerating. Jimin just smells strongly, and he already knew he was feeling unsettled from the preheat. 

It doesn’t matter. He’ll go home and curl up in his nest and sleep the day away, and it’ll be fine. By the time Taehyung comes home he’ll have taken a shower and washed this stupid sweater and everything will be back to normal. 

So it’s settled, Jimin thinks, as he begins the walk home, deciding that perhaps the subway isn’t the best choice with the way he’s feeling, nevermind the way he’s apparently smelling. No, he’ll walk home and it’ll all be fine. His wolf wants him home anyway, unhappy that he’s been away from the nest for this long. 

And he works hard to ignore the fact that his wolf preens as they walk, cocky that everyone can smell the alpha on his skin. And he most certainly ignores the fact that what Hoseok said about a Taehyung-scented cologne doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. It sounds ideal, actually.

Jesus Christ, preheat makes him crazy. 

-----

Jimin returns home agitated beyond belief and for no discernable reason. Well, he can discern the reason, he just thinks it’s stupid. 

Because by all normal standards the walk is fine. The weather is nice. The sun is shining. The temperature is more pleasant than it’s been in weeks. Jimin should feel good. He should be grateful!

But he isn’t. He isn’t because his wolf is acting like a fucking freak and won’t stop thinking about Taehyung the entire way back. Not even for a few minutes - not even for a second. 

The entire walk back it’s like his mind can’t unlatch from Hoseok’s jokes and his insinuations. The idea that perhaps, maybe, he smells like Taehyung for more than perfectly platonic reasons. 

His wolf spends the entire time nudging at the back of his neck for attention, and sending waves of discomfort beneath his skin when he refuses to give it any. It wants to be scented, and more specifically it wants Taehyung to be the one scenting him. It wants Taehyung to come home right now, immediately, and cover Jimin from head to toe until it lingers for weeks, maybe even years. And the entire thought of it all only serves to make Jimin even more agitated because he knows that Taehyung isn’t going to fucking be there when he gets home. And there is literally no way to get that through his stupid wolf’s thick skull. 

And it’s definitely the wolf that wants it - not Jimin. For sure. Jimin knows that Taehyung is a roommate. Jimin knows that Taehyung is a roommate and a friend and a nuisance at best. He’s a dumb, stinky alpha who just so happens to live in his house with him, and no amount of his wolf latching onto him as a potential mate is going to change that. 

It’s just instinct. That’s all it is. But his wolf doesn’t buy that for a second, and so the walk is hell. 

Jimin thinks it should get better once he re-enters his nest and can at least calm his irritated skin with a cool shower and maybe a nap, but it doesn’t. If anything, it gets worse. Stepping into the apartment is like walking into a warzone.

Everything is wrong. It’s exactly as he left it, and he left it wrong. 

From the moment he passes the entryway it’s like his skin is buzzing in the worst possible way. His stomach twists with nerves. When he’d left it had been with the serenity that it all smelled perfect, but now that he’s back it’s clear he was wrong. His wolf makes that adamantly clear. And truthfully Jimin can’t help but agree. 

Everything needs to change. Everything needs to change immediately. 

He knows its just the preheat, when is it fucking not, but he can’t help the whine he lets out as he looks at the pitiful state of his nest. If he was agitated before, he’s off the deep end now. It’s all off-kilter. The couches are too far forward, the pillows are too far to the side. 

And the very worst part is the scent. 

Jimin spends approximately ten seconds fighting his instincts before he gives in. He should tell his wolf no. He should ignore the impulse and take a shower and try to turn things back to normal. Because Taehyung will be home soon, and somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers that he was supposed to take this all down before then. 

But all his wolf hears is that Taehyung will be home soon. His alpha will be home soon. And the nest isn’t ready. 

Jimin doesn’t think twice before he starts moving. 

The first problem is the placement. Maybe he naively thought earlier that the nest could be in the living room, but it’s quite obvious that it can’t. He can see that now. 

The living room isn’t safe. Any omega worth his wits would know that. There are too many exits to be secure, and Jimin never should have thought otherwise. So it needs to move, and it needs to move now. Into his room - that’s where it should go. His room is safe and warm and cozy and his alpha will see that. 

So acting on instinct, Jimin pulls the entire loveseat into his room, and he knows he’s made the right decision the moment he’s passed the threshold. Because this room smells perfect. If the living room filled him with a gripping wrongness that burrowed beneath his skin, the nest here is like a soothing blanket of relief. The air is thick, warm. It settles over him, calms the anxiety of his wolf.

But it isn’t enough. 

Jimin pulls the loveseat fully inside the space, squeezing it into the gap between the foot of his bed and his desk. It just barely fits, and it probably scratches their floors in the process, but Jimin can’t find it in himself to care. It needs to be there, he can feel it. It’s like a balm over his skin as his nest comes together. He shoves the bed far into the corner, and then next comes the long couch, slotting into place lengthwise between his bed and the other wall. 

It leaves just enough space for the door to swing shut, but Jimin’s wolf nudges at him until he fills that space too - with an ottoman from the living room - until there is just barely enough space to open the door at all. 

Only then is it perfect. Safe. 

Jimin’s wolf preens at the sight, excited at the prospect of a proper nest. A nest it can be proud of. But it isn’t finished yet. 

Next comes the bulk of the nest itself. It isn’t enough to have everything lumped in the middle. It smells right, but it looks wrong. It feels wrong. Jimin needs to organize it immediately or he worries his wolf might jump from his skin and do it himself. And he knows it can’t really do that, but Jimin thinks that maybe, possibly, he isn’t in any state of mind to be held accountable for his idle thoughts. 

He has a nest to build. 

Crawling up over the arm of the couch, Jimin works to begin constructing the nest in a way that can ease the discomfort under his skin. He yanks his comforter out from where the edges have lodged between the new placement of the couches, pulling them taut over the cushions to extend the base to its full shape. Next come the pillows, but there aren’t enough pillows, so he’s immediately up and moving again, squeezing through the door and back into the living room. 

He feels cloudy, just slipping off the edge of something he can’t recognize, as he putters into Taehyung’s room again, pulling the pillows from his bed. He’s pleased that his alpha has four, scolding himself for his lack of forethought when he only brought two for his own bed. He obviously should have brought four. But his alpha is smart. That’s good. 

He drags the pillows back quickly to his own room, tossing the lot onto his bed and then climbing in after. He lines them along the walls, creating a structure that leaves him purring as he works. 

The sweaters are pushed towards the head, the best smelling ones positioned front and center. He tests each and every fabric against his skin, feeling it out instinctually for where it needs to go and how to arrange it so it doesn’t agitate him further. The jeans are pushed away - deemed too scratchy - and the underwear and socks are used to bolster up the pillows. He readjusts and reworks and alters the placement of each and every piece until it’s perfect. And only then does he realize his mistake. 

The nest doesn’t smell like him. 

The alpha overwhelms everything, every inch of the space. And Jimin would love that, but it isn’t right. It feels grating against his skin, devastatingly wrong against his instincts. His wolf whines, clawing at him to fix it. Because the nest smells like Taehyung, but it’s supposed to be their nest. If it isn’t a mix of them it’s just as wrong as the nest in the living room was. And if that’s the case then what’s even the point. 

It doesn’t smell like Jimin, and Jimin thinks if he doesn’t fix it soon he might genuinely cry. So he’s up in an instant, prying his closet door open against the weight of the couch that sits in the way. There isn’t really much space left, only a short distance between the back of the couch and the closet door, and what had felt soothing earlier begins to dawn on him as the horrible mistake it is. 

The couch is heavy, and with the way it’s positioned it leaves practically no room for the closet to open. He can’t get it past a few centimeters - not even wide enough to get his hand through - and it leaves his wolf livid.  

He doesn’t know what to do - his belly swoops in anxiety as he tries to figure out how to fix the situation. He could move the couch, but it would mean dismantling at least a small portion of the nest. It’s more than likely he’d have to remake the entire thing. And that’s not even considering the fact that with the way the ottoman is placed, the act of getting the couch out at all is no small feat. 

He chews on his lip, feeling his anxiety rocketing higher and higher as the time ticks by and he remains frozen. The only other options are to pry the closet door open, and risk breaking his fucking closet door, or accept the way the nest smells now. Make the best of what he has. 

The idea of each proceeding option leaves him feeling worse than the last. He needs those clothes. He needs his sweaters and his socks and his fuzzy worn-through pajamas with the cat-print that he’d sooner slit his throat than admit he owns. He needs them all and he needs them now. 

And it’s as he’s genuinely considering prying the closet door off its hinges that he hears it - the sound of the front door opening. A short creak as it closes and locks again. The puttering of Taehyung’s feet down the hall. 

Jimin thinks he might lose his mind. Alpha is home and his nest is a fucking disaster. 

Except, Jimin realizes, horror dawning on him as he hears Taehyung’s keys dropping to the table in the entryway, and his shoes kicked off onto the floor. Except Taehyung isn’t his alpha. He… he’s not. 

Jimin feels anxiety freeze his core, sudden clarity coming to mind. 

Oh God. 

Oh God, oh no. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Jimin looks around, as if suddenly returning to his own body for the first time in hours, and realizes what he’s done. What he’s been doing. 

This is deranged. This is insane, unhinged behavior. 

He built a nest for them. An honest to god nest made of - Jesus Christ, dirty laundry - for his roommate to come home to. He moved all their furniture into his room. He has literally every single object Taehyung owns in here with him. 

Jimin doesn’t know whether to cry or scream or launch himself out the window. And to make it worse, his wolf is literally preening because his alpha is home. His mate. While Jimin considers the potential avenue of moving out and changing names, his wolf is all but scruffing him by the neck and dragging him out into the living room to greet Taehyung at the door. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Jimin?” Taehyung calls out, and Jimin freezes in his panic because time has run out. He says nothing in reply, opting to stand stock still as he hears Taehyung move closer, likely edging into the living room now. 

“Jimin-ah?’ Taehyung calls again, this time more frantically, footsteps padding across the floor and then the sound of his own door opening. “Jimin what the fuck happened in here. What- Did we get fucking robbed? Oh - they left my laptop. Amateurs.”

Jimin can’t hold in the whine that escapes his lips as he slinks down to the floor between the couch and his closet. This can’t be happening. He doesn’t know what to say or do to fix this, and he hates the way Taehyung’s voice has edged into panic but he can’t do more than bite his knuckles and await the inevitable. He wishes they got fucking robbed. Getting robbed would be way easier to explain than whatever the fuck this is. 

He’s sure Taehyung can tell he’s home. If he didn’t hear that whine - which, let’s be honest, he probably did - he’s sure his scent is as distressed as they come, and there’s no way Taehyung wouldn’t have noticed that. He’s in preheat. He already smelled rank to begin with according to Hoseok and now this. He swears to God, the moment he gets out of this mess he’s switching to stronger, better meds. Meds that stop his preheat entirely, if he can swing them.

If he makes it out this, that is. 

Big if.

“Jimin?” He hears again as Taehyung approaches his door, knocking three times rapid-fire. “Are you in there?”

Jimin licks his lips, tightening his grip around his thighs as he steels himself for the inevitable. There’s only one realistic option, even if he wishes it wasn’t true. If he doesn’t reply, Taehyung will certainly still come in, and it’ll be an even bigger mess. A big embarrassing mess of a whiny omega who can’t even look his alpha in the eyes over what he’s done. 

Not his alpha. Roommate. His roommate. 

Jimin thinks he might lose it. 

Except, no. No, he needs to control the narrative. Maybe he can fix this. Maybe he can convince Taehyung to go… get an iced coffee or something. Leave the nest for long enough so Jimin can fix everything. His wolf hates that idea, but his wolf can go fuck itself as far as he’s concerned.

So he steels every nerve he has and shifts a bit closer towards the door, standing up on wobbly legs - using the back of the couch for support. 

“Yeah,” he croaks back, after Taehyung has knocked three more times with increasingly frantic calls. He wills his body to approach the door, ignoring the way his wolf prances around like the fucking menace it is. “I’m, um. I'm here.”

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks, relief coloring his tone. He’s closer now to the door, his voice muffled by the wood. “What happened?”

Jimin squirms, pushing himself to be brave. He doesn’t know how to explain. There’s nothing he can say that can justify why he’d opt to redecorate to such an absurd degree. It’s not even like he can argue that he wanted to buy new couches. These are Taehyung’s couches. There’s got to at least be a conversation about that beforehand or something. Fuck. 

“I, um,” Jimin starts weakly. He thinks maybe the best option is to just come clean. It’s not like Taehyung didn’t know he was in preheat, and he has an omega sister, himself, so it’s not like the concept of nesting is all that foreign - right? Jimin can explain, maybe. Or at least explain enough to get Taehyung to leave for a little while. “Preheat, uh, is sort of kicking my ass. I, um, nested. We didn’t get robbed. Everything is just… in here.” 

It’s the best he can do, but he knows it’s nowhere near enough of an explanation. God, this is so embarrassing. 

“Oh,” Taehyung says, his voice stiffening, and Jimin cringes, waiting for Taehyung to continue. “Do you, um, need anything? I could- could I come in?”

“No!” Jimin reacts immediately, pressing himself close against the door, on the off chance Taehyung decides to forgo politeness and force his way inside. “No, I think it’s just. It’s almost over, really. It’s basically over now. I just need to move everything back.”

It’s not. He knows it’s not. That’s the worst part. The nerves under his skin are simmering to a boil, and the idea of taking apart his nest makes his wolf howl in agony, the drama queen. Jimin knows his mental clarity is draining, his wolf scratching to take back over and fix this, because clearly Jimin isn’t capable of sorting through everything himself. 

He has half a mind to just let Taehyung inside now and deal with the consequences. It’s only the last lingering thread of embarrassment that stops him. And that thread is truly weakening as they speak. 

“Oh,” Taehyung replies, voice unsure. Jimin hears slight shuffling on the other side of the door. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really sure?” Taehyung asks again, and Jimin groans.

“Yes, Taehyungie, I’m okay,” Jimin reassures with as much certainty as he can muster. “Could you maybe just leave for a little bit? I think I just need some space. Need to cool off. I’ll move everything back, promise.”

It’s a lie. His wolf howls at the mere thought, and it takes everything in his power not to immediately recant his request because of how much he does not want Taehyung to leave. But he has to. The only way he can solve this is if Taehyung gets out of the apartment, much as he and his wolf both adamantly detest the idea. Maybe if he leaves they can at least partially dismantle the nest. A compromise. 

“You just smell really, really strong, is all,” Taehyung whines back, and Jimin doesn’t know how much longer he can last as his wolf badgers him to just fucking open the door already and put their alpha out of his misery. “I don’t know if I can leave you like this.”

“I promise you can.” 

“Can you at least come out for a second?” Taehyung whines again, more insistently this time. “Just so I can see you’re okay? I’ll leave after, I swear.”

Jimin bites his lip, unsure. He doesn’t want Taehyung to see inside. If he sees the insanity of the nest behind him, it’s game over. But he supposes he could just open the door wide enough for Taehyung to see that he’s not dying or whatever else he thinks is going on in here. If he positions his body just right, Taehyung might be none the wiser. 

Plus, he’d get to see his alpha… roommate. Alpha roommate.

Yeah. That’s a good plan, Jimin thinks, shuffling from foot to foot. A win-win, really, when you think about it. 

He shifts to the side just slightly, making sure his frame obscures the room behind him, and then takes a deep breath. It’s only a few seconds, and then Taehyung will leave and he can fix everything. The perfect plan. 

He cracks the door open without preamble, eyes widening as Taehyung scrambles back and away from where he must have been fully pressed up against the wood. Taehyung looks worse for wear than Jimin expected, his eyes wide and frantic as he assesses Jimin up and down for any indication of danger. He looks scared, more scared than Jimin would have expected.

He looks like an alpha in distress - smells like one too.

And Jimin stares on, unsure what to say, because Taehyung’s always been an alpha. But he’s not looking at Jimin like his alpha roommate, he’s looking at Jimin like his own wolf was seconds away from ramming the door down if it didn’t open up soon. And Jimin doesn’t know what to make of that. 

His wolf does. But, once again, his omega needs to learn to shut the fuck up. 

Jimin licks his lips, realizing it’s up to him to say something - to ease the tension in some way - but Taehyung beats him to it. 

“My sweater,” he says, eyes wide. 

“Huh?” Jimin shakes his head in confusion. 

“You’re wearing my sweater,” Taehyung repeats, looking from his chest and then down to his pants. “And my sweats. And my beanie. And my banana socks on your… hands?”

Jesus Christ, he is. Dear God, when did he do that. 

Jimin can feel himself blushing furiously as Taehyung assesses the insanity of his outfit. Well. Might as well double down. 

“It would appear I am,” he replies, with as much nonchalance as he can muster, still standing in front of his nest, wearing what he is beginning to remember is the stinkiest sweater known to man. He stares down at his socked hands, as if seeing them for the first time. “Well, would you look at that. Nesting, you know how it is.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung says slowly, his voice still on the edge of something pained. “Let me inside.”

Jimin bristles. Taehyung cannot come in here. For many reasons Taehyung cannot come in here, and unfortunately the top reason on the list is the fact that his nest still isn’t finished. His wolf won’t let him forget it. Even ignoring the fact that the optics on this entire nest-situation are insane, he’ll sooner dismantle the entire thing than let his alpha see the unfinished product. 

He may be a psychopath who built a nest out of his best friend’s dirty laundry, but he sure as shit isn’t going to be a quitter. 

“No,” Jimin retorts. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung says again, his voice lower. He takes a step closer, his fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. “Please let me inside, now.”

Jimin hadn’t noticed before, too absorbed in his own messy thoughts to see the way Taehyung is panting. He looks close to tears, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth and pupils blown. He looks raw - frantic - like it’s taking everything not to cry. And Jimin feels his resolve slipping because he can’t do that to Taehyung. He can’t make him cry.
“Why,” he whispers back nervously, using the last of his mental clarity to hold the door cracked open, despite the agony his wolf feels being denied this long. “Why do you need to come in?”

“Because,” Taehyung all but pleads, bringing himself ever closer.  “You’re wearing my clothes, and you smell like me. And I was only gone for a day but I missed you so much that I think if I don’t scent you right now I’ll lose my mind. So can you please open the door?”

And Jimin may not know what to think, but his wolf certainly does. His wolf knows it’s been kept at bay for far too long. And so Jimin does what he’s been holding out against since this entire week started. He gives in. 

Jimin steps back and opens the door, and Taehyung is on him in a second. He lets out a whoosh of air as he’s bodily hoisted up and thrown back into the nest, Taehyung following shortly after. And maybe Jimin should be peeved by the audacity Taehyung has to enter his nest without explicit permission, but dear god, who cares. Who cares, when he finally feels the agitation under his skin settling as Taehyung pulls him closer, shoving his nose into his neck to scent him furiously. 

It’s like Jimin hadn’t even noticed how completely stressed he’d become over the last few days, muscles wound taught and nerve endings fried. But now, here, with Taehyung pressed close, in a nest he built just for them, everything finally feels so right. So perfect. Complete.

He can breathe again, and he squeezes Taehyung tighter, refusing to let go. 

He needs to feel him, he needs him close. As close as possible. 

And maybe, he realizes, as his heart pounds for an entirely different reason than the stress of his preheat, maybe he needs him close as more than just a roommate. Maybe as more than a best friend and a stinky, smelly alpha who leaves his dishes everywhere and has never learned to clean up after himself. Maybe Jimin has been repressing more than just his omega for this last little while, and maybe it took fucking piles of dirty laundry to see that. 

God, he’s so stupid. 

“You aren’t,” Taehyung says. And - oh lord, did he fucking say that out loud? Taehyung shifts back, lifting himself up to lean over Jimin, his hand coming up to cup his jaw. He looks calmer than he did before, and yet more crazed at the same time. “You’re not stupid. I’m stupid. I shouldn’t have left. I didn’t want to leave, but I thought-”

He stops, a blush coloring his cheeks as he stares down at Jimin. It’s like he’s frozen, filled suddenly with uncertainty, and then he starts moving back, as if realizing the implications of their position. But Jimin can’t let him. Not now, that he’s had him this close. So he grasps Taehyung's wrist, pulling him back down towards him before he can make it far.

“What?” Jimin says softly, “What did you think, Taehyung-ah?”

“I thought,” Taehyung says, shifting slightly closer, the full weight of his body pressed over Jimin in their nest. “I thought you didn’t want anything. You never said, and I was okay with that - really. You’ve always been so independent, and I figured you didn’t want - didn’t need -”

Taehyung looks down as his rambling thoughts peter out. He licks his lips, and Jimin finds himself frozen, waiting to hear what he already knows is coming. 

“But I… want something,” Taehyung says, finally meeting his eyes. “I’ve wanted something for so long.”

“You want something,” Jimin whispers stupidly. His heart is racing, and he can’t look away. His skin is buzzing for an entirely new reason now, not uncomfortable in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Taehyung whispers back. He moves even closer, his eyes staring into Jimin’s own with something like wonder. “You just. God, Jimin. My wolf has wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

“Your wolf wants me.” 

Taehyung nods, pressing somehow ever closer. Jimin’s wolf is preening, but Jimin can’t even feel it. His eyes are focused on Taehyung and the way he’s leaning in, lips ghosting over his own.

“I want you.”

Jimin knows it isn’t just instinct that has him leaning in, closing that gap. It’s his wolf, but it’s so much more than that. It’s the fact that it’s Taehyung in his arms. The alpha his wolf wants, sure, but more importantly his friend for as long as he can remember. 

Taehyung, who loves pink, soft sweaters and has never treated Jimin like anything less for not wanting to follow suit. Taehyung, who apparently kept his own wolf at bay because he knew how much Jimin needed that independence. How much Jimin has never wanted to just be someone’s omega. But Taehyung has never seen him that way. 

Taehyung, who holds him close and wants him closer. 

Taehyung, who has always been different. Who Jimin has always known is more.

And Jimin can’t picture a world in which he doesn’t give in. In which he doesn’t let instinct just fucking take over for once - do what they’ve both been wanting, what they’ve both been yearning for.

And so he pulls Taehyung as close as physically possible. He needs him close. He needs him wrapped around him, his scent everywhere. He’s needed this for longer than he thinks he can understand. And he wants Taehyung. And maybe he loves Taehyung, just a little bit. 

This stupid, stinky alpha, who leans in and kisses him like he’s never wanted anything more. And Jimin feels content and warm and held in the way he’s been longing for since this entire preheat nonsense started. Safe. He kisses him softly, tenderly and then deeply, like he can’t stomach the idea of Jimin moving away. Not that Jimin would, he can’t. He could kiss Taehyung for hours, he thinks. 

He could kiss him forever.

They pull back only after what feels like days. After kissing turns to panting breaths and wandering hands, and Jimin thinks if he doesn’t breathe soon he might never again. 

Taehyung rolls to the side, dragging Jimin with him as he flips onto his back, Jimin moving immediately to press his nose into Taehyung’s throat. He thinks he might never get enough of it now that the floodgates have opened. He thinks he might have to stay here, living in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, forever. 

He feels sleepy and settled, held tightly in Taehyung’s arms. He feels like he could fall asleep just like this, tucked into Taehyung. He thinks he might be purring, but Taehyung doesn’t call him out for it if he is. He just holds on tighter, presses Jimin more closely into his throat. Right where he belongs.

And Jimin feels pleased, and secure. 

Until, of course, Taehyung turns his head towards the pillows behind him and stiffens. Jimin looks up, just in time to watch as Taehyung takes a big sniff and then reels back in disgust. 

“Jesus Jimin, are these my boxers?”

Jimin waits for Taehyung to look back down and make eye contact and then reaches up with his free hand. He tweaks Taehyung’s ear - ignoring the yelp he gets in response - and then tucks himself back in under Taehyung’s chin. 

“Shut up,” he says without any real bite. “Learn to build a nest and then fucking come talk to me about how I built mine.”

Taehyung snickers, wrapping his arms more tightly around Jimin.

“Yes sir.”

Jimin smiles, squirming even closer. His eyes are drooping - exhausted from the whirlwind of the day he’s had. 

“Also, I need you to open my closet,” Jimin mumbles, patting lightly at Taehyung’s chest as he drifts off. “I need my sweaters. Nest’s not done.”

“You got it. Anything you want. Just say the word.”

Jimin snuggles closer, his nose pressed into Taehyung’s neck and smiles, pleased. There’s nothing else he wants. Except to stay right here in Taehyung’s arms, scented head to toe in the nest he built for them. His preheat isn’t over, there’s probably a few more hours of this insanity left to go. But Jimin thinks he can handle it. 

And later, he’ll make Taehyung help him disassemble the whole thing, because that’s what big, strong alphas are good for. Even if he’ll probably be forced to do most of the tidying up, because that’s just the kind of alpha Taehyung is. 

It’ll be fine. 

And maybe, Jimin thinks as he finally falls asleep, his head resting above Taehyung’s beating heart, preheats are good for something, after all.