This Mask of Mine

91

Jimin had worryingly gone to bed, thinking both about how he would definitely be going into heat the next day and his missing underwear, on the wall side of the bed to try and avoid the prerut ingrained into the side of the mattress closer to the screen door.

Yet he moved around in his sleep-he was always especially squirmy in preheat and heat-and rolled into the spot and lurched awake almost instantly at the fire bursting in his veins. He rolled back into his original spot, but the damage had been done.

His chest started stuttering, bits started to perk and slick in interest, and heat-brain made him roll again into the spot. His hands bunched up the pillow and his face pressed into it towards the bottom-where the strongest source of prerut scent seemed to be. He would feel the shame when he woke up in the morning about the slick leaking down his thighs as he kneeled with his chest to the mattress, presenting to the alpha who wasn't even there. Would feel the shame later for the sob of "alpha" when the heat burned too hot and his bones ached. Would feel the shame later for fucking himself with the heat aid with his nose pressed into the pillow. His hands shook and legs trembled as he squeezed the pump and pressed the aid in as far as he could to the point that it felt like a swelling knot.

His moan was embarrassingly loud when he came, but he wasn't done.

The aid deflated quickly and the slick that usually gushed at a climax flooded the backs of his thighs and the space between his knees. Jimin wasted no time to pick back up again.

He had to wrench two more out of him for the ache to subside enough for him to sleep even if it was in the puddle of his releases. Jimin hoped that Yoongi had put something over the mattress, under the sheets, so the mattress wouldn't be completely soaked.

The ache returned in the morning, Jimin's entire body hurting and would only be soothed by the touch of who wasn't there. So even if slick trickled down his legs as he got out of bed, he carried his aching bones to the kitchen to prepare one of Yoongi's premade meals. The shirt he wore had been in the puddle and was now dry and crusty, so he took it off after his meal and set it in the tall basin by the armoire Yoongi had left for dirty clothes and towels.

As Jimin looked at the trail of slick he had left behind on the floors and the small puddle in the chair he had sat on, he couldn't help but want for the season to end soon.