Chapter Text
jungkook thought his alpha was the kindest person in the entire world.
he thought it often.
far more often than he ever found the courage to say aloud.
perhaps one day he would.
perhaps one day, when his face no longer grew unbearably warm at the mere thought of admitting such things, when his heart no longer fluttered so helplessly inside his chest whenever taehyung smiled at him, he would gather every trembling ounce of bravery he possessed, look his alpha in the eyes, and tell him plainly.
i love you.
for now, though...
for now, he was content to keep the words tucked safely inside his heart, where they belonged to only him.
the bedroom had long since settled into the gentle sort of darkness that arrived well after midnight, quiet and peaceful and comforting all at once, the silence disturbed only by the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional whisper of leaves brushing against the balcony outside. moonlight slipped lazily through the narrow gap in the curtains, spilling across the floorboards before climbing onto the bed in soft ribbons of silver that painted taehyung's sleeping face with the loveliest glow.
or...
mostly sleeping.
his alpha currently seemed to exist in that strange, wonderful place somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, where he remained exhausted enough that each slow breath rose and fell with perfect, unhurried rhythm, yet somehow still aware enough to answer with sleepy little hums whenever jungkook shifted beneath the blankets or accidentally nudged him in the middle of the night.
the thought alone coaxed the smallest smile onto jungkook's lips.
he liked watching his alpha sleep.
not for very long, of course—that would surely be terribly improper—but for little moments, stolen quietly while taehyung rested peacefully and would never know he was being admired.
he liked the way the faint crease that always settled between his brows after long, exhausting workdays finally disappeared, until every trace of tension melted away, leaving him looking softer somehow, younger almost.
he liked the way his lips remained ever so slightly parted, no longer pressed together in quiet concentration.
most of all, though, he loved the way one broad arm wandered across the mattress every single night without fail, fingers searching lazily through cool sheets until they found jungkook’s body, pulling him close close close.
the memory alone made something wonderfully warm bloom beneath jungkook’s ribs.
he loved his alpha.
even now, after all this time, the realization left his cheeks red and tinged with embarrassment whenever it wandered quietly through his thoughts, as though his own heart delighted in catching him off guard with the truth.
he loved him.
he loved him so very, very, very much.
when the marriage had first been arranged, he had been absolutely terrified.
fear had followed him through every moment of those final weeks before the wedding, sitting quietly beside him while his mother folded freshly ironed clothes into careful stacks, lingering at his shoulder while his aunties packed gifts and blankets and little keepsakes into the suitcase that would eventually accompany him into a stranger's house, weaving itself into every conversation until he could scarcely separate his own thoughts from the lessons he had heard repeated since childhood.
“listen carefully to your alpha.”
“do whatever he asks without complaint.”
“a peaceful omega makes a peaceful home.”
“never argue.”
“never inconvenience him.”
“if he is unhappy, ask yourself what you could have done better.”
jungkook had listened with all the seriousness expected of a good omega.
he had nodded after every piece of advice, hands folded neatly in his lap.
he had promised he would behave well.
he had promised he would make them proud.
he had promised that he would become the sort of omega any alpha would be grateful to come home to.
and yet…
a tiny frown tugged at his lips beneath the blankets.
his alpha had never really asked anything of him.
months had passed since then, and still, whenever jungkook let himself think about it for more than a few careful seconds, his alpha’s gentleness left him sitting with that same bewildered ache in his chest.
taehyung had never once told him what he ought to wear.
never instructed him when he should wake.
never expected breakfast waiting neatly on the table every morning before work.
never sighed in disappointment when jungkook accidentally oversalted the soup or forgot to buy something from the grocery list or shrank one of taehyung's sweaters ever so slightly in the wash.
he never expected perfection.
and it was that precise lack of expectation that overwhelmed jungkook so much his poor little head began to hurt.
he just didn’t understand.
if alpha wasn’t measuring whether he was being a good omega…
then…
how did alpha know?
his mother had always spoken about love as though it were something earned.
something delicate.
something conditional.
as though affection were a reward patiently waiting at the very end of perfect obedience, given only to omegas who spoke softly enough, worked hard enough, smiled often enough, and never, ever, ever, became burdensome.
a good omega made life easier.
a good omega anticipated every need before it had to be voiced.
a good omega never cried over silly things, never interrupted alpha while he was working, never complained when he was tired, never asked for more than they had been given.
love was measured in usefulness.
it grew when you were good.
it shrank when you weren't.
that was simply the way the world worked.
but taehyung seemed to exist in an entirely different sort of world.
his alpha loved him most on the days jungkook was absolutely convinced he had become the very worst version of himself.
the afternoon he'd stood shivering in the living room for nearly twenty minutes because he'd been too embarrassed to admit he was cold, only for taehyung to notice anyway, wrap him in the fluffiest, coziest blanket they owned, and settle him squarely into his lap.
the evening he'd accidentally dropped one of the ceramic bowls taehyung’s mother had so kindly gifted them after the wedding, the sharp crack echoing through the kitchen before he'd burst into tears right there on the floor, apologizing so frantically he could hardly breathe, hardly think, one cruel little refrain beating harder and harder and harder through his aching skull.
bad omega bad omega bad omega bad omega badomegabadbad badbad bad—
alpha hadn't even looked at the bowl.
he’d looked at jungkook.
he’d knelt beside him without a second thought, carefully brushed trembling hands away from the broken pieces before they could be cut, gathered him against his chest, and spent the next half hour whispering that bowls could always be replaced.
his omega couldn't.
and...
the night.
jungkook's chest tightened just remembering it.
the night he'd finally admitted, through hiccuping sobs and tear-soaked words he could barely force past the lump in his throat, that sometimes he lay awake wondering whether one day taehyung might quietly realize he'd been given the wrong omega after all.
that perhaps there was someone prettier.
someone more clever.
someone more graceful.
someone who didn't cry over broken dishes or burn toast or become shy every single time his alpha looked at him.
someone taehyung actually deserved.
jungkook had expected disappointment.
perhaps awkward silence.
instead...
taehyung had looked as though someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart with both hands.
he had held jungkook so tightly that night it had almost been difficult to breathe, pressing kiss after kiss into his hair, his temple, his cheeks, murmuring over and over and over again through tears of his own that there would never be another omega, not in this lifetime or the next, because he'd already found the only one he would ever want.
jungkook still remembered falling asleep against his heartbeat, unable to understand how he'd confessed something so terribly pathetic only to be loved even more because of it.
none of it made any sense.
every time jungkook stumbled...
every time he cried...
every time he admitted he needed something...
alpha somehow seemed to love him harder?
jungkook had spent months trying to understand the pattern, the catch, turning it over and over and over inside his mind whenever he couldn't sleep, searching diligently for the rule he must have overlooked.
but there wasn’t one.
it seemed as though his alpha just spoke a different language from everyone else.
a language where tears weren't embarrassing but honest.
a language where asking for help wasn't weakness but trust.
where being exhausted didn't earn lectures about working harder, but sleepy kisses against his temple and gentle hands guiding him toward bed.
where mistakes weren't failures to be corrected but opportunities to be comforted.
where hugs appeared as naturally as breathing.
hugs.
jungkook's lips curved into the tiniest, softest smile.
he genuinely hadn’t known he liked hugs, real, enveloping, lingering hugs, quite this much.
they always seemed to arrive at exactly the right moment, whether jungkook was standing silently in the kitchen after a scary day with too many scary thoughts floating through his mind, pretending he wasn't sad when his alpha could somehow see straight through him anyway, or sitting alone on the edge of the bed with his hands twisted anxiously in his lap, trying so hard to be quiet about hurting that the alpha’s first instinct was always to gather him close before asking a single question.
and oh, the forehead kisses.
poor, sweet little jungkook just hadn't known forehead kisses could mean so many different things!
there were the cheerful little pecks alpha pressed against his skin every morning before leaving for work.
there were the absentminded ones dropped into his hair while they cooked dinner together (together! jungkook always insisted he ought to do it all by himself like a proper omega, but oh, how he wanted to wriggle in place with ridiculous happiness every single time alpha rolled up his sleeves, stood beside him at the counter, and asked what he could help with).
and perhaps...
perhaps his most favourite thing in the entire world...
the names.
oh.
oh, dear.
the names.
heat flooded his entire face so quickly that he was terribly grateful the bedroom was dark enough to hide him.
sweetheart.
baby.
darling.
jungkookie.
my beautiful boy.
my sweet omega.
every single one slipped so effortlessly from taehyung's lips that anyone listening might have thought they were ordinary.
but they weren't, not to jungkook.
to jungkook, each one felt like a tiny gift carefully tucked into conversation.
"good morning, sweetheart."
"come here, darling."
"how's my sweet boy doing today?"
"my beautiful omega looks so sleepy."
"you've been working so hard, little one."
sometimes alpha said them while smiling.
sometimes while laughing.
sometimes while carrying grocery bags into the kitchen or searching for his keys or typing away on his laptop between meetings, distracted and busy.
there never seemed to be any special occasion.
jungkook had become embarrassingly talented at pretending those words didn't leave him wanting to bury his face in the nearest pillow and kick his feet beneath the blankets like some hopelessly lovesick teenager.
goodness, his alpha truly was perfect.
kind and patient and warm and gentle and funny and—
safe.
he was so, so, so safe.
jungkook was just so lucky.
out of every path his life might have taken, out of every alpha he could have been promised to, somehow, impossibly, unbelievably, the universe had been generous enough to give him the best one.
a sleepy little sigh escaped him before he could stop it.
he loved his alpha.
even though he knew, somewhere deep inside himself, that he didn’t deserve him.
(jungkook squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment.
he knew those thoughts weren't fair.
he knew alpha would probably be heartbroken if he ever discovered jungkook still believed such things.
but knowing something wasn't true had never magically made it disappear.)
his gaze drifted back toward the sleeping alpha beside him.
taehyung hadn't moved.
one arm remained tucked beneath his pillow, his breathing slow and wonderfully even, soft strands of dark hair falling untidily across his forehead.
he looked utterly exhausted.
the meetings today had seemed endless.
jungkook remembered the way his shoulders had slumped ever so slightly when he'd finally come home, the quiet sigh he'd let out while loosening his tie, the faint tiredness lingering around his smile even as he'd leaned down to kiss jungkook hello.
alpha just worked so terribly hard, harder than jungkook could ever hope to understand, spending hours with numbers and reports and all sorts of complicated alpha things that made jungkook’s poor, pretty little head feel fuzzy and spinny whenever he tried to follow them.
jungkook’s heart squeezed.
he wanted...
his eyes lingered on the familiar rise and fall of taehyung's chest beneath the blankets.
he wanted to cuddle.
just for a little while...
he wanted to curl against his alpha's chest the way he always did, tuck his face beneath taehyung’s chin, listen to that perfectly steady heartbeat, and let sleep find him there where everything always felt safe.
his fingers curled timidly into the blanket.
but...
alpha hadn't asked tonight.
usually, taehyung opened his arms first.
"come here, sweetheart."
"what're you doing all the way over there, hmm?"
"my cuddly omega belongs over here."
sometimes he didn't even bother asking.
he just reached across the mattress with an exaggerated little huff, wrapped both arms around jungkook's waist, and declared, in the most matter-of-fact voice imaginable, that cuddles were mandatory before bed.
the memory plastered another helpless smile onto jungkook’s face.
but tonight...
nothing.
his smile faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.
perhaps...
perhaps taehyung was simply too tired.
that had to be it.
after a day like today, anyone would want a little extra space.
jungkook immediately scolded himself for even considering asking.
how terribly selfish of him.
alpha deserved to rest however he so pleased.
the thought should have been enough.
it should have settled comfortably in his mind.
instead...
his stomach tightened.
because another thought, quieter but infinitely crueler, slipped into the silence before he could stop it.
unless...
unless alpha wasn't merely tired.
unless...
alpha was upset with him.
heart suddenly pounding so frantically inside his chest that every breath felt thin and unsteady, jungkook began replaying the day from the beginning, turning each hour over carefully inside his little head as though somewhere among all those ordinary moments there had to be an answer, some tiny mistake he had made without realizing, some small, terrible thing that would explain why his alpha had not reached for him yet.
breakfast had been fine.
surely breakfast had been fine...
taehyung had smiled over the rim of his coffee mug when jungkook slid a plate in front of him, eyes still soft with sleep and hair falling messily across his forehead, and he had thanked him in that low, warm morning voice that always made jungkook’s stomach flutter helplessly before reaching for his wrist and pulling him close enough to press a kiss against the inside of it.
so no.
no, it could not have been breakfast.
lunch, then.
but lunch had been fine too, hadn’t it?
they had exchanged messages while taehyung was at work, little pieces of warmth passed back and forth through a phone screen while jungkook moved around their house doing the small, careful things that made him feel useful, and at one point he had even sent taehyung a picture of the little stray orange cat sleeping on their front porch, its round body curled into a patch of sunlight.
taehyung had replied almost immediately, flooding jungkook’s screen with so many heart emojis and terribly affectionate little messages that jungkook had stared at them for far longer than necessary, cheeks burning, while alpha reminded him not to work too hard, to take a rest if his body asked for one, to drink water, to eat lunch properly, and to remember that being good did not mean making himself tired.
so surely that could not have been it either.
dinner, then.
his heart gave the tiniest, most uncomfortable squeeze.
dinner was where the first little thread of doubt caught, delicate and sharp, snagging somewhere deep inside him before he could reason it away.
he had accidentally bumped elbows with taehyung while setting the table.
barely enough to matter at all, really, except one of the spoons had clattered noisily onto the floor and jungkook had startled so badly that his series of i’m sorry’s had come tumbling out of him before taehyung had even bent down to pick it up.
he had apologized immediately.
several times.
too many times, probably.
taehyung had only laughed softly, picked up the spoon, kissed the top of his head, and asked, with such gentle confusion that jungkook had almost started crying right there, “what are you sorry for, little one?”
and jungkook had laughed then because alpha had sounded amused, not angry, and because taehyung’s hand had been warm at the back of his neck, and because for a moment it had felt impossible to be frightened while being loved so gently.
but now, lying stiffly on his own side of the bed with too much cold space between them, jungkook could not stop the awful, niggling thought from creeping in.
what if taehyung had only said that to be nice?
his stomach tightened another painful notch.
or perhaps it had been the flowers.
his gaze drifted vaguely toward the balcony doors, barely visible in the darkness, and another memory rose up at once: himself standing near the planter boxes after dinner, too excited to keep quiet because the tiny buds he had been caring for all week had finally opened, their soft petals unfurling after so many days of careful watering and waiting, and he had talked about them for ages, hadn’t he?
he had told taehyung which ones had bloomed first, and which ones he thought might open next, and how one of them had looked a little droopy in the morning but had perked up again by afternoon after jungkook moved it closer to the sun, and taehyung had listened because taehyung always listened, because his alpha had the sort of patience that made jungkook forget, sometimes, that not everyone wanted to hear every soft, silly, stupid little thought that passed through his head.
maybe that was it.
maybe he had talked too much.
maybe alpha had come home tired from work, wanting only a little peace, only a little quiet, only one evening where he did not have to carry someone else’s feelings so carefully, and instead jungkook had stood on the balcony rambling about flowers as though tiny white petals were the most important thing in the world.
or maybe—
his breathing caught.
maybe it was not dinner.
maybe it was not the spoon, or the flowers, or any one thing he could name neatly enough to apologize for.
maybe he had simply been too clingy lately.
the thought arrived so suddenly and with such cruel certainty that it stole the air from his lungs.
he had asked for quite a lot of hugs this week, hadn’t he?
not demanded, never demanded (he wouldn’t dare), but asked in all those little ways that were almost worse because taehyung always noticed them; lingering beside his chair too long, leaning into his side on the couch, hovering quietly in the kitchen until alpha looked over and opened his arms with that boxy smile that made jungkook feel both cherished and unbearably transparent.
and yesterday, he had asked taehyung to scratch the itchy spot beneath his shoulder blade because he could not quite reach it himself, and the day before that he had wanted cuddles during the movie, and the day before that he had fallen asleep with his head in taehyung’s lap while his alpha read reports for work, his fingers moving absentmindedly through jungkook’s hair even though he had probably needed both hands for the papers spread across the coffee table.
perhaps, somewhere along the way, all those little wants had piled up into something heavy.
perhaps jungkook had become heavy.
heat prickled uncomfortably behind his eyes.
taehyung deserved to be able to come home, and simply rest.
simply breathe.
instead, he had somehow ended up married to an omega who always wanted one more thing.
one more hug.
one more kiss.
one more soft word.
one more moment curled safely against his chest as though alpha’s arms were the only place in the world where jungkook knew how to be still.
jungkook swallowed around the lump growing thickly in his throat.
his head was beginning to hurt.
it always started the same way, with a faint pressure blooming behind his eyes, small enough at first that he could pretend it was nothing, until another thought came, and then another, and then another after that, each one sharp and convincing enough that it demanded to be answered before the next could arrive.
what if alpha thought he was childish?
what if he had become annoying without realizing it?
what if taehyung was simply too kind to say anything?
what if all those sweet smiles and forehead kisses were only patience stretched thin, kindness held together by habit, love quietly growing tired beneath the weight of jungkook’s endless little needs?
what if—
his chest tightened so sharply it almost hurt.
what if taehyung thought he was a bad omega?
no.
no, alpha had never—
but people changed.
didn’t they?
maybe taehyung had only needed time to realize it.
maybe the softness had been new at first, easy at first, before the shape of jungkook’s need had become familiar enough to exhaust him.
maybe his alpha had spent months being gentle because that was simply the sort of person he was, nice even when disappointed, patient even when tired, and perhaps now, after all this time, he had quietly understood that he had been given an omega who cried too easily, needed too much reassurance, thought far too much, and could not even sleep on his own side of the bed without turning it into a tragedy.
the ache behind jungkook’s eyes spread slowly toward his temples.
he pressed his lips together, trying desperately to stop the thoughts before they became too big to swallow down.
he knew this feeling.
he hated this feeling.
it was like trying to gather feathers in the wind, like chasing one anxious thought only for three more to drift down around him, floating and impossible and everywhere, until he could no longer tell which fear had come first or which one was most likely to be true.
his fingers twisted nervously in the blankets.
maybe he should simply stay where he was.
yes.
that would be best.
if alpha wanted space tonight, then a good omega should give it to him before he ever had to ask. a good omega should notice when his alpha was tired, should understand silence without demanding explanations, should not make everything about his own stupid heart just because he wanted to be held.
jungkook nodded to himself ever so slightly, though the movement made his head throb.
he would stay exactly where he was.
he would not ask for cuddles.
he would not scoot closer.
he would not bother his alpha, or wake him, or make himself into one more thing taehyung had to take care of after a long day of taking care of everything else.
he would be good.
he would stay quiet.
he would—
a deep, sleepy groan drifted through the darkness.
“…mm…”
jungkook froze.
every awful little fear inside his head went suddenly, strangely silent, as though even his thoughts had startled at the sound and stumbled over one another into stillness. for one trembling second, he did not move at all, did not breathe properly, did not so much as blink as his wide eyes fixed helplessly on the alpha lying beside him.
oh no.
had he woken him?
shame rushed into his cheeks, warm and immediate and miserable, and jungkook’s shaking fingers tightened around the blanket beneath his chin as he tried to make himself as small and quiet and invisible as possible.
i’m sorry.
the apology rose automatically, sitting heavy and frightened on the back of his tongue.
he swallowed it down.
no.
no, he would not wake alpha just to apologize for almost waking alpha!
how ridiculous would that be?
that would only prove—
taehyung shifted beneath the blankets, one broad shoulder rolling lazily against the mattress as his face remained peaceful and drowsy in the moonlit dark. his eyes never opened. his breathing stayed slow, his lips slightly parted, his hair falling messily over his forehead in a way that made him look so gentle that jungkook’s heart squeezed with guilt all over again.
then one arm slipped out from beneath the pillow.
jungkook’s breath caught.
warm fingers wandered across the rumpled sheet between them, slow and absentminded, brushing once over the empty space near taehyung’s side, then farther, then farther still.
searching.
jungkook stared.
taehyung’s hand patted the cool sheets once.
twice.
found nothing.
a tiny frown tugged at his sleeping mouth.
it was so small, so terribly slight, that anyone else might have missed it entirely, but jungkook saw it with devastating clarity, saw the faint crease form between his alpha’s brows as though some quiet, dreaming part of taehyung had noticed something was wrong without yet understanding what.
again, his hand searched.
again, empty sheets.
and something inside jungkook loosened, softly and quietly, like a tightly wound knot beginning to unravel beneath careful, trembling fingers.
too clingy.
too needy.
too much.
too difficult.
too burdensome.
all those cruel little conclusions he had spent the last several minutes gathering so carefully inside his buzzing brain suddenly seemed almost… almost foolish beside the sight of his alpha, still deeply asleep, still utterly unaware, searching blindly across the bed because some unconscious part of him had already memorized exactly where his omega belonged.
then, in a gravelly voice still thick with sleep, rough around the edges in the loveliest, softest way imaginable, taehyung mumbled, “…darling…”
another sleepy sigh.
“…why’re you all the way over there…”
the words slipped drowsily into the darkness, barely shaped, barely awake, yet they settled over jungkook with such impossible warmth that his throat tightened at once.
oh.
oh.
“…come here, love,” taehyung whispered, almost too softly to hear.
his fingers brushed the edge of jungkook’s sleeve, paused, curled, tugged, gentle but unmistakable.
“…please.”
jungkook’s lips parted around a gasping breath that shook all the way into his chest.
“…let alpha hold you.”
jungkook did not hesitate another second.
with the smallest, most helpless, most relieved little wiggle beneath the blankets, he crossed the cold space he had spent far too long mistaking for rejection, sliding closer and closer and closer until the first brush of taehyung’s delicious warmth touched his own and every part of him seemed to sigh at once.
the moment he came within reach, taehyung pulled jungkook against his chest with the unconscious certainty of a body that had learned him by heart, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other settling possessive and heavy across his back, tucking him in deep until there was no empty space left between them at all.
a tiny, broken little keen instinctively slipped from jungkook's throat.
taehyung answered with a rich, contented hum of his own that rumbled through his chest and melted oh so sweetly onto jungkook’s blushing cheek.
“there you are,” taehyung murmured into his hair.
his lips brushed the crown of jungkook’s head in a drowsy, uncoordinated kiss.
“…much better.”
burning tears suddenly spilled down jungkook's cheeks before he even realized he was crying.
they slipped silently into the soft cotton of taehyung's sleep shirt, hot against his skin, and still they came, one after another after another, not from fear anymore, not from the awful ache that had wrapped itself around his heart only moments ago, but from something so impossibly overwhelming that his poor little body seemed entirely unequipped to contain it.
relief.
joy.
love.
all of it tangled together until he could scarcely tell where one feeling ended and the next began.
his whole body shook inside taehyung's arms.
of course.
of course alpha wanted him.
how silly he'd been.
how terribly, terribly silly.
jungkook let out another tiny, watery little sound into taehyung's neck, his face burrowing deeper beneath his alpha's chin almost greedily, breathing him in with the quiet desperation of someone who had spent far too long believing he ought to want less.
he smelled so good.
cedar and amber.
laundry detergent.
something distinctly, wonderfully alpha beneath it all.
jungkook’s poor heart hardly seemed to know what to do with itself anymore, fluttering wildly inside his chest, so unbearably full that it almost felt too large for his body, every beat sending another dizzy rush of happiness through him until his thoughts began dissolving around the edges, losing their neat little shapes one by one.
he felt…
floaty.
like someone had poured warm honey through his ribs.
his cheeks hurt.
oh.
he was smiling again.
he hadn't even noticed.
another sleepy hum vibrated against his temple as taehyung instinctively nuzzled closer, his hold tightening just enough to draw an embarrassingly delighted little squeak before he could stop himself.
oh, dear.
alpha…
mmmm…
nice.
very nice.
very, very, very nice.
love alpha.
looooooove alpha.
love alpha love alpha love alpha love alpha love alpha love alpha—
jungkook thought he could stay like this forever.
wrapped up so tightly there wasn't enough room left in the whole wide world for frightening thoughts to squeeze themselves inside anymore.
his smile only grew.
perhaps...
no.
not perhaps.
his alpha loved him.
the wonderfully simple certainty settled softly inside his chest, cozy and content and unhurried, leaving no space at all for questions.
it fit there so naturally that jungkook laughed at himself for ever believing anything different.
oh goodness, he really did have the best alpha.
the thought drifted lazily through his mind before dissolving into comfortable, sweet, fuzzy nothingness.
his eyelids grew heavier.
taehyung's heartbeat thumped steadily beneath his cheek.
warm.
safe.
home.
beaming into the soft cotton of his alpha's shirt, jungkook finally let sleep steal him away.