Bangtan AO3 Collection (some ABOs)

Nu ABO: A Memoir by Park Jimin (Chapter 5) - JiKook

Nu ABO: A Memoir by Park Jimin - decompositionbooks

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024368/chapters/21638849#workskin

=============================================

His palms are damp from the nerves, the anticipation makes his fingers numb. He can barely hold himself upright; his legs are weak, knees threatening to cave in. Even though he's changed boxers, the slick is still dripping out of him, wetting his new pair, threatening to soak through and dirty the sweatpants too. Jimin stares at himself in the mirror, sees the way his cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy like he's been crying. Fuck, it's so obvious that he's in heat.

Jimin uses his hand as a makeshift comb, rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to fix it from where it's been molded by the pillow, dampened from his sweat.

The doorbell rings then, the chime echoing into the open door of the bathroom, and Jimin stiffens. The hair on his neck prickles, body jolting alert like he's a dog waiting for its owner.

Jimin fusses with his hair one more time, brushes it back with shaky hands to make himself look just a little less disheveled, and he pads over to the door, takes in one giant breath before he reaches for the doorknob.

He opens the door.

Jaebum looks different offstage, a little more tired without the makeup, dark eye circles a shadow underneath his pale skin—but nevertheless handsome.

"Damn," Jaebum hisses. "You smell—" he trails off, doesn't finish it, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes seem to darken, pupils blowing wide. Jimin can't help but shiver.

He quickly looks away, wipes his hands on the cotton of his sweats.

"Um. Hi. Come in," Jimin waves his hands in the vague direction of the dorm. "Sorry for the mess."

There's a gust of air as Jaebum passes him, Jaebum's cool scent invading his senses, so good that Jimin has to suppress a groan. It's not the dark bittersweet smell of cocoa, but it still makes his mouth water, makes the slick ooze out of him, wet and hot. Fuck.

He swallows down the desperation and follows Jaebum into the living room.

For some reason, he can't get himself to look at Jaebum—as though looking at him would bring him back to reality, would wake him up and force him to realize the bad decision he's about to make. He knows he's going to regret this in the morning, when the itching is done and over, but right now, he wants it. He wants it so fucking bad.

"Do you—" Jimin clears his throat. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm good."

"Y-you sure?" He can feel the slick running down, the way his chest seems to burn. He hopes to god Jaebum can't smell it.

Jaebum's eyes flicker.

"Some water would be nice, actually," he says, voice gravelly like he's gone through a pack of cigarettes.

Jimin flees, paces over to the kitchen in a hurry. The pounding in his ears is deafening, disorienting him as he walks. He can't believe he's doing this. Really, Jimin? You're gonna let Jaebum fuck you in a dorm that you share with three other Alphas?

He shakes off his unease, looks for a glass on the top shelf, but as he reaches up, his mind conjures up the memory of Jungkook cornering him in the kitchen, caging him in with his body. Jimin suppresses the shudder that comes when he remembers the light trace of Jungkook's nose against his neck, the heady smell of cocoa crowding around him.