Chapter Text
"You've been so lazy recently."
Jungkook snorts at Jimin's teasing voice, continuing to eat his cereal as Jimin drinks his bitter coffee. It's early in the morning, around seven, and Jimin's getting ready to leave for work, his hair still a bird's nest and his eyes still coated with sleep.
Crisp morning air drifts in through the crack of their large living room window, brushing along Jungkook's arms. Long shadows stretch into their house, and morning rays shine through the parted curtains, but the room is dim because they hate turning on the lights this early. For now, they're on their yellow couch, Jungkook's legs lying on Jimin's lap and his back smushed on a pillow against the arm of it. They normally wake up together, lazing around and calmly murmuring about anything important or unimportant before Jimin leaves around seven forty. That's when Jungkook proceeds to crash back into bed and doesn't wake up until nine when he has to get ready to teach.
"You're one to talk. I had to carry you to bed last night."
Jimin rolls his eyes as his husband picks up his bowl, tilting the remaining liquid into his mouth and sucking until there's milk dripping down his chin. He licks it away just as Jimin shoots him a look, one of I know what you're trying to do. Jungkook simply grins, slowly licking his lips where the milk still coats them and stretching out his back, letting his chest arch in the air and a groan slip from his tongue.
"Stop trying to rile me up, you ass." He shifts, grabbing Jungkook's legs and running his hands up and down them, squeezing his calves with an appreciative huff. "I'm slightly serious, though. You've seemed super tired more recently. Where'd my obnoxiously peppy morning bird go?"
Jungkook laughs and melts into Jimin's touch. There's the clack of Jimin's coffee mug hitting the table, and then Jimin's leaning over, wrapping his arms around Jungkook's waist and pulling him up. Jimin slightly struggles, arms wobbling and yawn heavy on his lips, sleep still weighing down his limbs, but he accomplishes his task. Now, Jungkook's sitting in his lap, ass pushing against his thighs and head lolling close to his omega.
"Nah, I'm just tired from work. I think these college students are wearing on me. All sleep deprived and caffeine addicted."
Jimin nuzzles into the omega's hair, the curly strands falling in front of Jungkook's eyes and blocking parts of his vision. He's thought about cutting it, it is getting pretty long, but his husband adores it. Plus, it's made him play with his hair so much more, scratching fondly at his nape and burrowing into the soft locks, and Jungkook's a sucker for attention.
"You smell different."
The smaller omega's hot breaths trail on his neck, warm tongue locating the mating mark they gave each other years ago, and he licks over it, lapping and breathing into his skin like he's delirious.
"Mmmmm, sure I do. You just wanna get into my pants," he groans out when Jimin grins into his skin, breath like little birds' wings are fluttering on his bare shoulder. "Dad always warned me about boys like you."
He's smirking as Jimin laughs, head burrowing into Jungkook's skin lazily but still sniffing him like he can’t control himself. It’s like breathing in bananas dipped in creamy chocolate, like blanketing himself in milk and cocoa.
"Yeah, yeah. I give you compliments and you tease me."
"Saying I 'smell different' isn't a compliment."
Jimin pulls back, raising his eyebrows, morning light flashing in his eyes.
"But it's a good different." Jungkook freezes when Jimin grabs his ass, kneading the thick cheeks and forcing the omega to smack against his chest. His little nose pushes into Jungkook's collarbones, groaning, "God, like a really good 'different.'"
"Just say you want a nice morning fuck and stop with your shitty compliments." He lightly smacks Jimin's shoulder, nudging his nose until he's kissing those pretty lips.
And normally Jimin would giggle, would nip at Jungkook’s little pink lips, but his mind swirls and his eyes are too dark, golden liquid dripping in his irises and flaring in his eyes. He lets Jungkook's tongue into his mouth, swirling around and tasting hot chocolate on his tongue, fatty fruits and thick sugars coating his lips. His eyelashes flutter shut, lightly exhaling as Jungkook wriggles on him, and Jimin’s honeysuckle scent soaks into the air of the room.
Both eyes closed, warm arms wrapped around and scents blending deliciously, they love each other.
It's a week later, and Jungkook's pressing a finger against his chest, wincing as a flash of thick pain flares.
Holy shit he's sore.
He’d noticed it a few nights ago, when Jimin’s teeth had nipped at his nipples and Jungkook had whined in pain, his body aflame in sensitivity so overwhelming that he’d wanted to cry. Now it’s all he can feel, like that heavy mass is pressing into his chest and weighing him down. Like little stones are forming under his tits, and fuck, maybe he's dying.
He shakes his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, but all it does is make him dizzy, reminded of all that exhaustion that's been dragging his limbs down. His hand grips on to the cold counter top, breathing heavily next to the humming fridge as he steadies himself. Maybe Jimin’s teasing was actually right; maybe he’s gotten too lazy. He hasn’t gone to the gym in two weeks, the idea making him sick to his stomach.
Literally sick. Yesterday morning he tried jogging, got off his weary ass and ran through the park for five minutes, just to find himself a few paces later bent down, hands on his knees. Spit dripping from his lips, he’d heaved, wondering how long the burn would last until he puked into the bushes. He hadn’t, had barely escaped with his dignity, but he’s aware something's wrong.
Rubbing his temples, he pushes himself away from the counter, hearing the heavy click of the front door closing.
Jimin’s back from work.
“Jungkook, I'm home!” He hears the steps of Jimin’s black shoes against the hardwood, the noise like thudding elephants in the distance, roaring in his skull. Jungkook’s hands strain, head swimming and veins protruding as he falls back to the counter top, gripping it again. His husband shuffles into the room, grocery bags in both hands, food straining from inside them. “I bought some stuff for dinner. You wanted chops, right?” He only spares Jungkook a glance before he starts unpacking on the dining room table, cans and packages thumping onto the wood. He’s too enveloped in his task, not yet smelling or seeing the upset omega. “Can you get the last two bags from the car?”
When he swings around, annoyed that Jungkook still isn’t answering, he halts in his tracks. It takes no time to observe his mate's drained face and realize something is wrong.
“Baby, are you okay?”
Jungkook hears the tapping of Jimin’s feet rushing over to him and then his husband’s warm hands are rubbing his back. He stands on the tips of his toes, nuzzling into Jungkook’s neck, warmly scenting his skin with the wash of new flowers as he searches for what’s wrong. Jimin notices the omega doesn’t smell sick, just distressed and uncomfortable, like bananas rotting after too many days in the sun.
“Jus’ need a nap,” Jungkook murmurs, closing his eyes and letting his head loll against Jimin’s neck. The honeysuckles are heavenly, like fresh buds blooming in his nose, meant to calm the mate down, and it’s working. His omega falls into it, lets it drape over his senses and soothe him like a lullaby.
Jimin scoops him up like a bride, just as how Jungkook did for him on their wedding night, and cradles him gently. Flowers swathe Jungkook, and he imagines himself drowning in a field of them, his mate’s loving words like the wind in the sky and his arms like the trees gifting him shade. He nods off as the smaller omega carries him through the house, worry in the air, dulling the lights of their bedroom and laying him delicately down.
When he wakes up hours later, Jimin's curled beside him, eyes wide and ready to talk.
Jungkook's walking onto campus grounds when he receives a text back from Hoseok. He'd sent him a quick message before getting in his car, mentioning how he's been feeling off recently, like his body is desperately trying to tell him something, but because of teaching and the workload, he can't quite listen.
Hobi: Wait, so what exactly are you feeling?
think it's a stomach bug?
damn I hate those
and what does Jimin think?
Jungkook:
Jimin just thinks I need more rest.
he’s right. he wanted me to call in sick, but I can’t
too much stuff to do
and we're not sure if it's a stomach bug. my temperature's normal. just feel nauseous all the time, mostly right when I wake up, plus headaches and I never get those
I've been so bloated too.
in other words, everything fucking sucks right now and I'm dying
and unrelated, but do you have some more of that soothing oil stuff you gave me?
remember, last year? for my birthday?
my pecs hurt something FIERCE
Hoseok’s at work right now, so Jungkook doesn’t expect him to respond anytime soon and instead unzips his bag, tossing his phone in its depths. Entering the brick building, he shoves his sweaty, curly brown hair from his forehead and ignores the twisting nausea.
He has other things to worry about.
It’s an hour later when he gets a response, phone still away in his bag as he teaches, entirely unaware that it’s gone off.
Hobi: Lol almost sounds like you're pregnant 😂
and yeah, I bet I have some of that oil somewhere