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Taehyung can say that he’s not a super irritable person. He likes to think he’s pretty laidback, if not a little strange around people he’s comfortable with. Like anyone else, he has his days. There are days where he can’t bring himself to get out of bed and go to class, where even the kitchen is too far. But those days pass.
He knew something was really wrong when he finished his last class of the day at 4:15pm, a brisk Thursday afternoon that meant he had the next three days off, gratefully relieved of his morning Friday class. He felt a little bad for cheering at the email where his professor said his dog was sick, but he sent a prayer up to his angel for the dog and cheered for the cancelled class anyways. Taehyung had been feeling off all day. A subtle itch in the back of his throat, a tingling in his fingertips, sharp pains in his abdomen. He shook it off, at first, meeting up with his hyungs, Hoseok and Yoongi, for lunch and sipping on the juicebox Hoseok procured from his bag.
As a Beta, he wasn’t all that sensitive to scents, nor was his particularly strong. He thinks he prefers it that way, keeping something quiet and unassuming, his emotions a little closer to his chest than quick-to-anger alphas or on-edge omegas. So, clearly there is a problem when he picks up a third scent at their table in the dining hall. It lingered on Yoongi’s cardigan like a virus, and when Taehyung leaned slightly forward and (rather obviously) sniffed the air, he was almost startled by the change in Hoseok’s scent.
It was nice to be able to pick up on what his friends were feeling, to know what shift meant what, to know that Hoseok’s apple scent turning bitter meant someone from the dance group he choreographed for was testing his patience, or when it turned sweet and warm like apple cider he was cuddly and tired. It was helpful to smell the subtle change in Yoongi’s warm cashmere scent, changing from a warm fireplace to thick smoke when someone barged into his studio without knocking (even though Taehyung always knocked; it’s not his fault Yoongi-hyung didn’t hear). It was not helpful to smell even the slightest change, to be suddenly so put on edge by a scent he couldn't quite identify.
“You okay, Tae-ah?” Hoseok leans forward, drumming slender fingers on the crooked table.
The words leave Taehyung’s mouth before he even realizes, “Did someone scent you, Yoongi-hyung?”
His chest stutters with his next breath, sitting back in his chair and trying not to think too much about why the fuck he cared so much, why he noticed, why everything smelled a little stronger.
The silence is broken with Yoongi’s dry teasing. “Scared someone’s gonna steal your favorite hyung?”
Hoseok was always great at clearing obvious tension, or easing Taehyung’s running mind, so his exclamation of “his favorite? What am I then?!” quickly distracts Taehyung, before his focus falls back into nibbling on his food, though it doesn’t quite taste right, sitting heavy on his tongue and sliding thickly down his throat. If his hyungs notice, they don’t say anything.
When he finishes his meal, he grabs his bag and bids his friends farewell, promising to text back and “please respond to Hobi’s gifs instead of just reacting to them.”
Getting back to his off-campus apartment is more painful than it usually is. He misses the 4:45 bus, and when the next bus finally comes at 5:15, it's packed with people and he’s wedged next to an alpha who reeks of impending rut and cigarette smoke, and Taehyung has to fight to not gag for the whole ride. Thankfully, his stop isn’t far, and when he rushes off the bus and his bag hits a couple people on the way out, he doesn’t bother stopping to apologize.
He swears he doesn’t breathe through his nose until he enters his apartment, slamming the door behind himself like he’s running away from an axe murderer.
“Taehyungie!”
It’s like immediate relief when he hears Jimin’s voice, and like a breath of fresh air when he meets his eyes and inhales his fresh, meadowy scent. It’s one of Taehyung’s favorite things, the way an alpha can smell so soft, something that’s so utterly Jimin it begins to make him nauseous.
Jimin frowns. “Are you okay? Your face is red. You’re not getting a fever, are you?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “It was just crowded on the bus,” he responds.
He throws his bag down in the living room, and although Jeongguk isn’t home yet, he can hear him scoff in disapproval. Finally, he sinks into the couch and it molds around him so well he wishes he could become part of it. There’s a lingering scent, Jeongguk’s and Jimin’s mixed together. He wishes it didn’t bring him so much comfort.
A small, cold hand pushes his hair back and grazes his forehead, and Taehyung lets out a shuddering breath.
“Do you wanna order food tonight and watch a movie, since neither of us have class tomorrow?”
He hums in response, closing his eyes and missing Jimin’s lips curling into a tender smile. “Let’s wait for Jeonggukkie.”
“Alright,” the older sighs, sniffing the air quietly. “You should shower. You smell like another alpha.”
Taehyung grumbles something about the man on the bus under his breath and slinks off to the bathroom.
He makes quick work of hopping into the shower, warm water cascading over his body and soothing muscles he didn’t even know were sore. Shampoo runs down the drain, eyes following it before he’s doubling over, grabbing the shelf on the side of the shower and knocking nearly everything off. Jimin must hear the several bangs of bottles hitting the ground, followed by Taehyung’s annoyed, not-so-whispered, “fuck!”
“You okay?” Jimin practically yells, and Taehyung would find it sweet if he wasn’t feeling so disgusting inside, if his body wasn’t cramping like he was an omega in preheat.
“‘M fine,” he says back, before repeating himself a little louder to make sure Jimin hears. Footsteps shuffle away, and Jimin’s permeating scent recedes just enough for Taehyung to take a deep breath without feeling like he’s drowning.
When he climbs out of the shower and dries off, washes his face, and brushes his teeth, he makes sure to put on comfy clothes; baggy pants and an oversized shirt that swamps him.
He stays in his room, blankets pulled to his chin, until he hears the front door open and Jeongguk’s soft voice faintly through his bedroom door.
Sue him if he’s a little excited to see him; he’s already climbing out of bed, creaking the door open and slightly sniffing the air before he makes his presence known.
“Welcome back, stranger,” Taehyung smiles, punching Jeongguk in the shoulder softly.
“It’s been like, eight hours,” he replies.
“I’m hungry, we were waiting for you.”
Jimin nods, backing Taehyung up. Jimin waits until Jeongguk takes his jacket off before he pulls the youngest into a tight hug, burying his nose into his neck. The mix of scents makes Taehyung dizzy, stepping back rather ungracefully.
“I, uhm, I’m gonna grab some blankets. For the couch,” and he scurries off to his room like a startled cat.
He doesn’t know why their scents mixing made his stomach twist; it’s never been something that bothered him before. Sure, he always had a little bit of swirling jealousy about the couple, but it was never anything more than wishing he could be in a relationship like theirs (than wishing they–or anyone–would scent him).
Maybe he’s going crazy, maybe he’s losing his mind, but he swears he smells his own scent rolling off of him in waves. He can never smell his own scent. Not unless he’s distressed or purposefully scenting something, which isn’t really a common activity for him.
“Taehyungie-hyung?” He hears Jeongguk’s voice through his door, muffled but so obviously laced with concern that Taehyung can barely stand it. Does he deserve that concern? Suddenly, the cramps in his abdomen are accompanied by a sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach. He just wants to lay between his roommates–his two best friends–and watch a movie. He’s being so difficult today that he’s frustrated with himself.
Taking a few deep breaths, he opens the door and steps out to meet Jeongguk, surprised at the proximity, almost chest to chest. He prays the others can’t smell him, but he makes no indication that he can, just wraps his fingers around Taehyung’s slender wrist and gently drags him to the living room.
Jimin is waiting on the couch, but Taehyung waits for Jeongguk to sit down before he does, not wanting to separate the two accidentally. They leave a spot for him in the middle, and after a moment of gestation, he sits down, heart pounding.
“You had a rough day, hm?” Jimin asks, too sweet, too doting. He feels undeserving of this, too. “How about you choose the movie?”
Jeongguk stands up, and Taehyung looks at him, scared (briefly, he swears) that he did something wrong, but the younger one just smiles at him with his big doe eyes and giggles, “You forgot the blankets, hyung.”
“Oh.”
Jimin smiles that same smile he always does when he meets Taehyung's eyes, but the gaze is just a little bit different when Taehyung stares back at his soulmate.
—
Taehyung had met Jimin before he had met Jeongguk.
In their first semester of university, as small, chubby-faced 18 year olds, Taehyung had basically rammed into Jimin while struggling to find his class. Already running late on the very first day was not setting himself up for success, nor would it impress his classmates or professor.
Jimin, ever the angel he was, didn’t yell or push Taehyung back, but asked if he was okay, as if Taehyung hadn’t nearly body slammed him. Looking at Taehyung’s frantic eyes, mouth already opening to spew apologies, Jimin asked, “Are you lost? I can help you find your class. I don’t mind being late.”
Taken aback, Taehyung struggled to respond for a minute, uncharacteristically shy in front of the quite frankly beautiful boy in front of him. Jimin hadn’t smelled like anything then, probably wearing scent blockers, so they hadn’t started their friendship under the precedent of secondary-gender hierarchy, but Taehyung remained uneasy at first regardless. “Uhm, art history 199?”
“Is that a question?” Jimin already wore his trademark mischievous smile, the glint in his eyes comforting Taehyung’s nerves.
“No,” he replies, a little dumbly.
With his blinding smile, eyes squinted into crescents, Jimin held his hand out. “Park Jimin. I’m in that class, too.”
Taehyung blinks. After a moment of silence where he nearly forgot to reply, “Kim Taehyung.”
They pretty much clicked immediately after that, giggling at their professor together, spending long hours in the library doing anything but their homework, joking around in the halls and pranking their professors and hyungs alike.
Taehyung learned that Jimin was a dance major, and he followed him to the audition for the school’s main dance team (where they both met Hoseok-hyung). Jimin looked good dancing everything–from hip-hop to lyrical to jazz. His smooth movements showed talent very few people had, and Taehyung made sure to tell him as much.
Taehyung told Jimin how he liked to play saxophone and paint in his free time, how he had notebooks filled with lyrics for songs he would never write. In their second semester, after hearing Taehyung play, Jimin practically forced him to enter a music showcase.
He learned Jimin is only a few months older than him, yet Jimin always leans in when Taehyung asks for something, whispering,“call me ‘hyung’ and I’ll get it for you.”
Taehyung told Jimin that he never really liked honorifics from people close to him, and from then on it was Taehyungie and Tae-ah and TaeTae and anything else Chim Chim could think of.
Taehyung learned that Jimin had small pinkies and a big laugh that brought him to the ground.
Taehyung’s laugh was just as big when Jimin tackled him and tickled his sides until his eyes watered.
He learned that Jimin was affectionate, just like Taehyung was. He learned that Jimin didn’t care about the strange things Taehyung might say, he just laughed with him. Taehyung never once felt alien around him. He learned that Jimin is an alpha, an alpha who smells like a breeze in a meadow and that when Jimin is angry his scent turns sour and a frown is etched into his face. Taehyung never wanted to be the recipient of that look.
Taehyung told Jimin that he was a beta. Though it wasn’t really a secret, he was still nervous. Jimin just smiled, holding his hand because “that doesn’t change what I think about you, Taehyungie.”
After their brief summer break, Taehyung and Jimin ended up in another class together, where the older leaned over Taehyung’s desk and whispered behind his hand, “There’s this cute boy in my dance class…”
Taehyung learned, a little while later, that Jimin had a boyfriend. Nothing really changed, but everything did.
Jimin would apologize and rush out of class to meet his boyfriend, Jeongguk, for coffee, would gush about dates and first kisses and what the other alpha’s scent was. He vented to Taehyung about how he was scared to be in a relationship with another alpha, scared of how people would react.
Taehyung said he would beat up anyone who said even the tiniest word, and Jimin replied, “With what muscle?” and giggled his insatiable giggle.
Honestly, Taehyung understood the moment he saw Jeongguk waiting outside of their lecture hall with a tiny smile, big round eyes, and round, chubby cheeks that completely juxtaposed his sharp jawline. He caught himself staring, and looked away.
The next semester, when Jimin suggested they all move into an off-campus apartment together, to have a bigger space and cut down on costs, Taehyung didn’t refuse. It didn’t bother him that Jeongguk and Jimin shared a room, a bed, a closet, and their scents. It didn’t bother him that he’d hear Jeongguk call Jimin baby or teasingly call him Jiminie-hyung.
It didn’t bother him at all.
Jealousy was normal–envy, for their relationship. To be that close with someone. Jimin was still his soulmate, and Jeongguk had become his best friend and partner-in-crime, but at the end of the day, he was the third-wheel.
Taehyung gave the couple their space, though, letting them be alone the most he could. He met Yoongi-hyung in a music theory class, and even though the other seemed hesitant to talk, when his Daegu dialect slipped through, Taehyung immediately swore to bother Yoongi until they were friends. Surprisingly, going to university in Seoul, he hadn’t met a lot of other students from Daegu, though he supposes he mostly spends time with his Busan roommates anyways.
“We never see you anymore, Taehyungie,” Jimin whined one day, hanging off of Taehyung’s shoulder. His skin turned warm under the touch, but he didn’t move.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he had said with a shrug.
“Nonsense! It’s your home, too.”
His home.
His home smelled like a breezy meadow, cedar and burning candles, and he got used to it. The scents lingered everywhere, subtle to his beta senses. Something deep inside him wished there was more, wished he could smell himself in his home, too.
—
Now, he can smell everything. Too much. It makes his head pound, and he barely realizes Jeongguk has come back with blankets until he gets a whiff of melting wax and pine and forest. Jeongguk smells like Christmas, and it’s no secret that it’s Taehyung’s favorite holiday. He’s flanked by a human Christmas-scented candle.
“...Tae?”
“Hm?” He realizes he should be more attentive, though his head pounds behind his eyes and it makes his peripheral swim.
“Are you okay?” This time, Jeongguk puts his hand to Taehyung’s forehead, and the older boy nearly jumps back, flinching slightly before Jeongguk pulls his hand back with a frown. Taehyung smells more burning wax than pine, for just a moment.
“I’m fine, ‘guk.”
The younger hums softly, and hands Taehyung the remote.
They’ve gotten more comfortable over the years, now that they've lived together for nearly three years, he and Jimin almost ready to graduate. So, Taehyung doesn’t find it unusual when Jeongguk’s hand plays with the hair on the nape of his neck, or when Jimin’s hand rests on Taehyung’s knee. The only thing that’s unusual is the way his stomach tightens, the way he feels his face flush and his back sweat a little.
His head still pounds, so he nudges the blonde boy to his left. “Jiminie,” he whispers, as if he’s in a movie theater, but Jeongguk is laser-focused on the movie and Taehyung never likes to interrupt Jeongguk when he’s so immersed in something. “Jiminie.”
“What’s up, Tae?”
“Need tylenol, or somethin’,” he whines involuntarily, and covers it up by clearing his throat.
“What hurts?” Jimin is already sitting upright, eyes looking Taehyung up and down, brows furrowed.
Taehyung doesn’t reply. Jimin, who knows him too well, stands up and ruffles his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Be right back.”
Startled, Taehyung looks at Jeongguk, who seems unfazed, wandering eyes already back on whatever movie was playing. He may have picked it, but he didn’t really see what he clicked. At least Jeongguk seemed to like it. To be honest, Taehyung hasn’t really been paying attention. It’s some American action movie with subtitles that he's in too much pain to focus on, the bright light from the TV not helping with his headache. Jimin returns with a glass of water and two little white pills, slipping them into Taehyung’s hand and holding the glass up to his lips.
“I can drink the water myself,” he grumbles.
Jimin rolls his eyes, holding the glass up anyways and letting Taehyung sip carefully after popping the pain medication into his mouth.
In another hour, when the credits start rolling and the room is dimmer, Taehyung can’t get himself out of the living room faster, closing his bedroom door behind him and climbing straight into his warm mess of blankets.
He hears Jimin say something about forgetting to order the food, and Jeongguk sighing in return. In another hour, he thinks he hears the front door open and close, and a faint smell of food.
His phone dings.
From: Jiminie
> jjajangmyeon in the fridge
> feel better tete
He smiles, but pushes his phone back onto his bedside table.
God, he’s so tired, he’s hot, his stomach hurts in places it hasn’t hurt before, his head is pounding and he just wants to cry. He has no reason to, but heat wells up behind his eyes. Shoving his face into his pillow, he prays for an angel to get rid of this feeling.
Apparently, prayers do jack shit, because Taehyung wakes up with a headache that's ten times worse, accompanied by cramps that are even more intense, and waves of heat that coat his body with sweat. To make it worse, he’s nauseous, stomach twisting around itself like it's eating him from the inside out. He hates feeling nauseous. He hates that his friends got him his favorite food and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach it at all today. He hates that if he runs to the bathroom now, he might run into doting Jimin or worried Jeongguk on his way.
He hates, hates, hates.
And he wants to cry because he hates hating things.
Taehyung reaches over to grab his phone and check the time, the brightness making him squint. He quickly turns it down.
10:40am.
Could be worse.
He checks his notifications; a text from Hoseok-hyung telling him he has to try this smoothie place down the street from their campus, accompanied by three ridiculously corny gifs. He leaves a thumbs up on all of them; a text from Yoongi-hyung nearly ordering him to accompany him on some date he was third-wheeling on later this weekend so he didn’t have to deal with ‘their gross romantic antics. You get it.’; a text, more recent, from Jeongguk, ‘at grocery store, want anything?’
His eyes water before he comes back to himself. He thinks briefly, wondering if he should ask for what he actually wants, but he feels like it's hinting at something impossible, something he wouldn’t even want to admit to himself. He figures if he ignores the correlation, Jeongguk will, too.
To: ggukkie
> r u still there
> can u get me ice cream
> and like a heating pad or something
From: ggukkie
> yea we are still here
Taehyung had guessed Jimin would be with him, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Jimin was always too observant when it cam to Taehyung, and he knew he’d read into things and try to comfort him, nurse him back to health, whatever other whims he could think up.
From: ggukkie
> heating pad?
> are you ok??
To: ggukkie
> im fine
> my back just hurts
From: ggukkie
> we will be back in 20.
Fuck. Taehyung should’ve kept his mouth shut. The last thing he should tell either of them is that he’s in pain. They fuss over him when he stubs his toe. Despite Jimin being barely older than him, and Jeongguk being younger, they both acted like fretting hyungs all the time. Or fretting alphas. It’s quite unusual, though, for alphas to instinctually look after betas.
At least, Taehyung realizes, he can walk to the bathroom without encountering either of his roommates.
He trudges out of bed, clothes sticking to his sweaty body. He grabs something to change into, dragging himself into the shower. When he passes the mirror, he can’t help but acknowledge that he looks like shit. His face is red and puffy and his hair is messy; all puffed up in the back and stuck to his forehead with sweat in the front. Deep eyebags rest on his face despite his long sleep, and his usually small, discreet scent gland is swollen. Naively, he hopes a cold shower will fix it.
It eases his headache a little, though it does not curb his nausea or cramps. He’s rid of the sweat and red flush across his body, hair washed thoroughly. Taehyung doesn’t realize how long he’s been in the shower until he hears the clanging of keys falling onto the kitchen counter, the soft scents of his mates flowing through his nose.
He almost physically slaps sense into himself. Where did that thought even come from?
“Tae?” Jeongguk calls, waits, and calls again. “Taehyungie-hyung?”
“Shower,” he tries to yell, but the word comes out more strangled than he means it to.
Jeongguk urges him to hurry up and get dressed so they can eat, so Taehyung reluctantly turns off the shower and changes into the loosest clothes he has, hoping the heat flashes will leave him alone. He hates being sick.
Hates, Hates, Hates. Again, tears well up in his eyes for no reason. He’s always been sensitive, sure, but never like this.
He hears whispering from the other room, hushed and quiet and filled with secrets. Do they not trust him? Do they not want him here? Do they–
He cuts himself off, stepping out of the bathroom after towel drying his hair. The alphas look towards him with something unreadable on their faces, before they finally beckon him over to hand him the stuff he asked for.
“Here’s your heating pad, silly. Ice cream is in the freezer,” Jeongguk smiles, so, so cutely. Cute alpha.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Taehyung? You smell…different,” Jimin nudges closer, and Taehyung curses his attentiveness. He instinctively steps back, shrugging.
“Uh, must be my shampoo.”
“Taehyungieee!” Jimin whines, reaching for his soulmate’s hand. “You can tell us anything, you know?”
Jeongguk nods next to his boyfriend, and thinking the word boyfriend makes his stomach twist, makes his fists clench, makes him whine before he can stop himself. It feels like everything is crashing down on him at once; pain ripples through his abdomen, shoots up his spine; he feels like he’s stuck in a sauna and he’s surrounded by scents he wishes were on him. He’s next to two alphas who he loves, his best friends, and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Jimin is holding him, exchanging a worried gaze with Jeongguk before they bring Taehyung to the couch.
Taehyung opens his eyes, which he didn’t realize were clenched shut, whining when the light hits them. Jimin moves his head, he’s blurry, but Taehyung can see his outline. Why is he blurry?
Jeongguk follows the direction Jimin gestures in, closing the curtains tightly and blocking out the assault of bright light.
“Minnie,” he starts, but Jimin hushes him like he’s a baby and it makes him feel nice which makes him feel worse because he’s just so, so guilty. He’s in Jimin’s arms while Jeongguk is just watching, just standing, because Taehyung stole his boyfriend’s attention because he’s sick or something, and he just hates–
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Jimin runs a hand through Taehyung’s hair, and Jeongguk is kneeling beside them, brushing tears out of his distressed hyung’s eyes.
“So-Somethin’s wrong,” he bites back a sob.
“It’s okay, hyungie, it’ll be okay.” Taehyung doesn’t even notice when Jeongguk rubs their wrists together, scenting Taehyung’s sensitive wrists. He loves Jeongguk’s smell so much it makes him cry harder. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
Why does Jeongguk have to be so nice to him? Why do he and Jimin care so much? What’s wrong with him?
“I’m so– I’m so sorry.”
Jimin’s scent feels sadder, like the grass in his meadow had died, and Taehyung can’t stop feeling bad. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” the blonde is firm with his words, holding eye contact that Taehyung can’t quite meet.
“Ggukkie smells so good,” he cries, and it’s such a dumb thing to cry about. Jeongguk blushes lightly and turns away, but his scent stays soft and pleasant and it keeps Taehyung placated.
“Can I ask you something, Taehyungie?” Jimin pets his hair softly, words light and careful like he’s treading on thin ice.
He nods, and the couch dips next to him, Jeongguk’s scent getting a little stronger.
“Are you an omega?”
Taehyung shakes his head feverishly, which only serves to make his headache worse, but he doesn’t want his Jiminie to think he’s a liar, he wouldn’t lie, he wouldn’t.
“I know you wouldn’t lie, TaeTae. It’d be pretty hard to hide, hm?”
He nods again, too scared that if he opened his mouth all he’d do is cry.
Jeongguk moves him so that Taehyung’s head rests in his lap, big hand playing with his hair while smaller hands rub Taehyung’s back.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” Jeongguk asks, but doesn’t stop playing with Taehyung’s hair.
“Yesterday mornin’,” he whines softly, turning to hide his face in the younger boy’s shirt.
“You should’ve told me, baby,” Jimin soothes. “I’m you’re hyung, y’know? I’m here to help you.”
“I- It’s bad,” he says, vaguely.
“What’s bad, hyungie?”
“Me.You g-guys care too much,” he hiccups and he hates it; he’s so embarrassed he might die.
Jeongguk swiftly pulls Taehyung up, cradling him to his warm chest, nose landing comfortably against Jeongguk’s scent gland. Jimin watches with a fond smile, worry still lacing his eyes because, by now, he’s figured out what’s going on. He’s sure Ggukkie has too, letting Taehyung breathe his scent in deep like a lifeline.
It’s not unheard of for people to present late, but Taehyung is almost twenty-two, and even for late presenters, that’s on the tail end.
“Must be scary, huh?”
Taehyung nods, still hiding in the crook of his dongsaeng’s neck.
“We don’t wanna scare you, Tae-ah,” Jimin starts, running his hand through his hair as he gathers his words. “I think you might be presenting, sweetie. It’s all preheat symptoms, yeah?”
Taehyung whimpers, as if that’s the last thing he wants to hear.
“It’s okay. We’re not gonna leave, okay? We’re gonna help you. Me and Jeonggukkie.”
Jeongguk nods, releasing more of his scent to hopefully calm the new omega down.
“It’s bad,” Taehyung urges again, pulling his face from its hiding place, eyes puffy and face covered with dried tears, but at least he’s stopped crying. The two alphas wait patiently for him to continue. “You’re gonna hate me.”
Jeongguk can’t help but cut in, tone gravely serious. “We could never hate you.”
“I’m ruining your relationship! ‘M stealing Jiminie from you, Ggukie,” he hiccups again, the godforsaken tears coming back, “and I like y-your scents too much, and- and I get jealous, and it’s so mean, and I’m so sorry,” he breathes, ready to keep going, but he’s stopped by Jimin putting gentle hand against his cheek.
“Taehyungie,” he coos.
The omega stays still, confused.
“You know how long we’ve wanted to say something to you? To pull you in and tell you how pretty you are, to tell you you’re ours?”
Taehyung meets Jeongguk’s eyes, before flicking his gaze over to Jimin's. Neither of them are laughing, or even smirking. It’s not a joke, he thinks. Involuntarily, he releases a bit of his scent, so much he can smell it now, too, jasmine and sandalwood, stronger than it used to be, the floral scent a new addition. It mixes so well with the alphas’ scents, he thinks. They want me? Alphas want me?
“You smell so good, Tae.”
“We…we thought you didn’t really want to be involved with our relationship at all. You always leave to go hang out with Yoongi-hyung or Hoseokie-hyung,” Jimin says.
“I wanted you two to be happy,” Taehyung sniffs, finally collected enough to form coherent sentences. “Thought I’d be in the way.”
There’s no hesitation or insincerity in Jimin’s voice when he speaks. “Baby, we’re incomplete without you. Jeonggukkie and I love each other, and we love you, too. We… We've both talked about it. Taehyungie, we both want you to be ours.”
Taehyung swears his whole scent is filling the room. He’s still in pain, he’s overwhelmed, he’s still a little scared that he’s presenting as an omega at twenty-two, crying on the couch while his best friends, who he’s always loved, admittedly or not, confess to him.
His head swivels towards the youngest. “Ggukie?”
“I want you, hyung. We both do.”
Taehyung cries again. “I love you,” and then cries some more, “My head hurts so much! And my stomach.”
Jeongguk chuckles, and moves to get up, stopping when Taehyung protests with a loud whine. “No! Don’t leave. You can’t say you love me and then leave!”
The other boy just leans down and kisses Taehyung’s forehead, brushing hair out of his eyes. “Relax, baby. I’m gonna warm up that heating pad you asked for, okay?”
Taehyung nods reluctantly, already missing Jeongguk but longing for the heating pad.
“Aw, am I not enough for you, my Taehyungie?”
Jimin doesn’t expect Taehyung to lunge up and tackle him to the couch, especially with how miserable he seems, but the younger does just that, burying his head against Jimin’s neck and lapping at his scent gland with his tongue, such a blatant display of affection that it makes Jimin’s head spin. Taehyung, his Taehyung, his soulmate, smells like the perfect omega, fits right in between him and Jeongguk.
“No! Jiminie, I’ve loved you forever!”
Jimin’s eyes widen a little bit at that, but he masks his surprise with a cheeky smile. “How long is forever, TaeTae?”
“Since the first time you called me Taehyungie,” the omega replies sweetly, going back to scenting Jimin like he’d die if he didn’t drink him all up.
“Oh, baby…”
“Sor–”
“No apologies. I wish you’d told me sooner, is all.”
“But you had Jeonggukkie.”
“We all could’ve had each other, silly.”
“But… two alphas don’t want a beta…”
Jeongguk comes back, heating pad and sweet words in tow, “We’d want you no matter what you are. Only difference now is we can help you through your heats, hm? It’s no fun dealing with two alphas rutting all the time, you know?” He places the heating pad on Taehyung’s lower abdomen with a soft smile, kissing the top of his head again.
Jimin swats Jeongguk playfully. “Hey! Rude!”
Taehyung giggles, giggles, sweetly against Jimin’s neck, vibrations reminding him that he has his omega in his arms. He knew Taehyung was someone special the moment he ran into him in the hallway, walking to the same class, listening to the same music from shared, wired earbuds. He pulls the omega away from his scent gland only to be met with a pout.
“Can I kiss you?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer, just throws himself further against Jimin and slots their lips together.
“Such a needy omega already,” Jeongguk smiles at them. “We’ve got our hands full, now.”
Jimin pulls away from Taehyung, whose face is already flushed and lips already swollen, scent thick with happiness. Jimin preens, proud to make his omega happy. His omega. Not yet.
Taehyung, seemingly exactly as needy as Jeongguk says, practically flips off of Jimin and onto Jeongguk. “Ggukkie, Ggukkie,” he calls for the younger’s attention, completely seated in his lap.
“Hm? What is it, hyung?”
“Kiss me? Please?”
As if he could ever refuse.
Jeongguk and Taehyung intersect at the lips, the alpha grabbing Taehyung’s waist and pulling him closer until there's barely an inch left of space between them. Taehyung feels Jimin’s scent grow thicker, heavier, and there's another body pressing behind his, warm, plush lips on his neck, lapping at his scent gland.
“You smell so good, Taehyungie,” Jimin inhales, “I wish I could’ve smelled it this whole time. Had me dreaming of what you’d smell like–happy, sad, angry…you’re so pretty, baby.”
Taehyung makes a small noise at the praise, his body feeling warm and tingly at each point of contact with his alphas. His.
“Are…are we.. gonna be…” Taehyung hesitates against Jeongguk’s lips.
“C’mon, you can ask anything,” Jimin insists, still drunk on his soulmate’s scent.
“Are we gonna be mates?” He quickly asks, eyes closed tight.
Jeongguk lifts his hyung’s face with fingers beneath his chin, just like how Taehyung would tease him with a gentle scratch. “Thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, air hot against Taehyung’s face.
“Let’s get you through your first heat first, though,” Jimin adds. “Just to be safe.”
Jeongguk nods. “Besides, we need to take you on a proper date.”
Taehyung’s scent rushes out, flustered and beautiful just like him.
“Our omega…”
They stay on the couch for a while, cuddled up and enjoying each other’s scents, before Taehyung is brutally reminded he’s in preheat–presentation preheat, no less.
It slips from his stupid, scent drunk, preheat ridden brain before he can stop it. “Alphas, it hurts.”
It’s like the other two are zapped out of a spell, ready to tend to whatever their omega needs. Taehyung realizes they’ve always been like this; doting, caring, worried, loving–all of it, just for him.
When they encourage Taehyung to make his first nest on the floor of the living room, made with couch cushions, blankets, sweaters, and at least three of Jeongguk’s hoodies, they praise him and curl up beside him. Jimin has water on the table closest to them, a bottle of ibuprofen, and clementines to feed to Taehyung since he’s in too much pain to even eat his favorite meal. Jeongguk has the heating pad ready to go and has grabbed Taehyung’s favorite stuffed animal, packing the nest with all their favorite things.
Cuddled up next to their sweet Taehyungie, Jimin and Jeongguk don’t know how they made it this long without him.
Taehyung, surrounded by not just the scents of his favorite people, but now also his own, finally feels at home.
“Fuck,” he says, drawing the attention of both his alphas, already bursting at the seams to help, “I didn’t text Yoongi-hyung back.”
As if he was summoned, Jimin’s phone rings. “Speak of the devil.”
He picks it up. “Where the hell is Taehyung?! He left me on read.”
“I don’t think I can make it this weekend, hyung,” Taehyung responds, leaning towards Jimin to speak into the phone.
“What.”
“Well…”
Jeongguk butts in, “Well,” he draws out dramatically, “Taehyungie-hyung just presented, so he’s gonna be busy for the next few days.”
“What?!”
Jimin starts giggling, and the other two join in, all too amused with Yoongi’s confusion at Taehyung’s betrayal. With all three of their scents mixed together in one happy chorus, Taehyung wedged between the two boys he’s loved for the past few years, none of them can seem to care about anything outside of their nest.