I Want Your Complications Too

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52616065.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga
Characters: Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Namjoon | RM, Jeon
Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jang
Yijeong | El Capitxn, Ashley Frangipane | Halsey
Additional Tags: Mpreg, Omega Min Yoongi | Suga, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha
Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Alpha Kim Namjoon | RM, Beta Jeon Jungkook,
Beta Kim Seokjin | Jin, Omega Park Jimin (BTS), Omega Kim Taehyung
| V, Pack Dynamics, OT7, Morning Sickness, Anxiety
Language: English
Collections: The BTS Mpreg Fest: 2023 Edition
Stats: Published: 2023-12-28 Completed: 2024-01-31 Words: 12,490 Chapters:
3/3
 I Want Your Complications Too
by Anonymous

Summary

Yoongi gets pregnant by accident; the Bangtan pack, and some friends, are there for him.

Notes

Prompt:

yoongi finds out that he is pregnant just after hoseok leaves for his enlistment. yoongi doesn't
want to tell hoseok the news over a military phone so he keeps his pregnancy hidden until
hoseok comes back for his holidays

Totally optional but LISTEN! yoongi announcing his pregnancy on stage like Beyonce

dw: pregnancy sex, lactation maybe?

dnw: unhappy ending

**
With thanks to sinsense and 7letmeloveyou for reading this over and providing invaluable
suggestions and corrections. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Title from Paper Rings, by Taylor Swift.

 Chapter 1

Yoongi shuffles into the kitchen. It’s early, and he is, for once, alone. He stands in front of the
fridge for a while, contemplating his breakfast options. He’s just about decided on reheating
some fried rice when Jungkook comes in from his morning run with the pack’s regular coffee
order. When he brings Yoongi his cup, Yoongi’s stomach rolls so hard he bolts to the sink.

“Hyung?” Jungkook says, his alarm accompanied by a burst of concerned vanilla. “Are you
okay?”

“‘M fine,” Yoongi mumbles, fumbling for a glass of water to rinse his mouth out. “Coffee
just smelled bad.”

Jungkook gives him a narrow look, but Yoongi is pretty sure he really is fine. He’s tired, but
it’s a familiar “getting ready for a comeback and tour” kind of tired. Nothing hurts, or at least,
nothing new. His next scheduled heat is months away. Nonetheless he obediently holds still
and lets Jungkook check him for a fever. The whole pack has been unsettled since Jin and
Hobi enlisted. Jungkook, their only remaining beta, has been especially anxious. Their linens
have never been cleaner and the pantry and the medicine cabinet have never been more
organized.

“I’ll take care of it.” Jungkook nudges Yoongi out of the way to pour the coffee down the
sink. “You want some tea instead? Or hot chocolate?”

“Tea.” Yoongi sits down at the kitchen table to wait.

He could make it himself, but there are some battles that are not worth fighting.

**
“Hey,” Yijeong calls out, from the doorway of Yoongi’s studio. “What’s going on?”

“I’m getting some new furniture,” Yoongi says, as the delivery people start unwrapping his
new couch.

It’s black leather, with built-in seat warmers, footrests, drink holders, and snack trays. Yoongi
is looking forward to nesting in it.

Yijeong takes a sip of his drink. “Didn’t you just get a new couch a few months ago?”

“It smelled bad,” Yoongi explains. “I couldn’t use it any more.”

Yijeong makes a low, thoughtful noise. “Did Joon forget his chicken in here too?”

“No,” Yoongi says, perhaps a little too quickly.

Yijeong arches both eyebrows, and Yoongi can feel himself flushing. He wills Yijeong to let
it go. He refuses to say I suddenly realized I forgot to clean it after Hobi’s last rut because it
stank of cum out loud in front of strangers.
Mercifully, Yijeong seems to get the message.

“Let me know when you’re ready for lunch,” he says, barely waiting for Yoongi’s nod of
agreement before he walks away.

**
“Do you want some ginger ale?” Jimin asks, squinting into the hotel fridge.

On the bed, Yoongi uncurls and considers. They’ve been in America for a couple of days, and
he’s been alternating between being ravenously hungry and not being able to eat a single
thing without his stomach rejecting it. The plain chicken and rice he ate for dinner has, so far,
stayed down, but he’s wary of adding anything else to the mix. The manager noonas tried to
get him to go to the hospital, but Yoongi had resisted, unwilling to cause a fuss over what is
probably just tour stress, or the lingering effects of airplane food.

“No,” he finally murmurs. “Come to bed, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin stands up. “In a minute – I have to wash up, I smell like an airport.”

Yoongi hums an acknowledgement, and nestles back down. He dozes for a little while,
thinking about lighting cues and listening to Jimin singing to himself while he rummages
around in his suitcases. He drifts off when he hears the shower start up, and slides back to
consciousness when he feels the bed dip, and Jimin wraps around him.

“Mmm, you smell good,” Jimin mumbles, nuzzling at Yoongi’s scent gland. “Like a
Creamsicle on a hot day in the park.”

Yoongi hums and rolls over and tucks himself into Jimin’s chest. He can feel his heartbeat
slowing already in response to the comforting presence of his nestmate. Jimin starts purring,
and that’s enough to drag Yoongi the rest of the way under.

**
New York is like Seoul: most people wear strong scent blockers when out and about. In Los
Angeles nobody does, and public spaces are pumped full of soothing beta pheromones. It
makes Yoongi dizzy, and also homesick for Jin and Jungkook.

“You’re happy with your stage outfit?” one of the young alpha stylists asks, at the end of
rehearsal. He’s local, not part of the touring crew. He smells of anxiety and moldy peaches.
“Because I can pull some other pieces, you know, and maybe some shapewear –”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi replies, and the translator repeats it. Yoongi summons his best relaxed
smile. The stylist purses his lips but doesn’t say anything further.

Later, alone in his hotel room, Yoongi stands in front of a mirror and studies himself. His
chest looks a little bigger, and is oddly tender but – he has been working out. The rest of him,
despite all of the throwing up, looks thicker and more solid. Like he’s been enjoying his food.
Older, hisses one of the meaner voices in his head. Not so pretty any more.
Yoongi takes a couple of breaths, sitting with that thought, and the usual undercurrent of
anxiety, the tide of what-ifs. He lets it wash over him, for a moment, and then consciously
turns it aside. He gets up, changes into street clothes, and goes out to visit with his friends.

**

In the evening, when he and Anderson are done recording, Yoongi gets in the car and goes to
see Halsey in her massive house in the hills. She shrieks when she opens the door, then pulls
him into a tight hug, pressing her nose against his neck.

“So good to see you!” She squeezes him and takes another deep gulp of his scent. “I can’t
believe Joon and Hobi let you out of the nest.”

“They helped with the trip planning,” Yoongi says, because they had.

“Wait, do they know?” Halsey whispers, tilting close, her eyes wide, her gaze flickering
between the translator and other staff hovering just out of earshot of their private
conversation, and back to Yoongi. She smells of fresh tomatoes and concern. “Are we happy
about this? Do I congratulate you?”

Yoongi squints at her, genuinely lost. Her scent has turned sharp, and her expression is
bizarrely anxious.

“Yes, I am happy.” Despite his rebellious stomach he is having a good time. “I feel good,” he
adds, which is mostly true, and her face relaxes into a real smile.

“You’re keeping it quiet, though, for right now,” she states more than asks, still whispering.
“Because of the risks – and the fucking vultures. Right.” She hugs him again. “Let me know
if you need me, okay? And I won’t tell anyone. Anyway, come on, you have to meet my
baby.”

Yoongi nods, still confused, then takes her hand when she holds it out, and lets her drag him
into the next room.

**
Yoongi sits on the edge of his bed, tablet on his lap, and feels under his pillow for the plastic
bags that have the shirts Hobi and Jin left for him. The Asian leg of the tour was twice as
exhausting as the American one. He’s been home for a week and he’s still tired. On top of
that, he’s barely kept any food down the whole day. He’s also still got a pile of emails to
answer, and possibly one more meeting before he’s really done.

His plan is to take a quick sniff of the shirts and then buckle down and get to work.

Instead what happens is he presses Hobi’s shirt to his face, smells nothing but cotton and
fabric softener, and bursts into tears.

He’s still crying several minutes later when Namjoon taps on the door, then pushes it open
and comes in.
“Honey, what’s the matter?” Namjoon crouches down in front of him, his scent thick with
concern. “What happened?”

Yoongi tries to explain but he can’t get the words out. He slides forward into Namjoon’s
arms, and hides his face in Namjoon’s neck. He smells like a forest on a warm day. It’s not
the same as Hobi’s bright sunshine and fresh cut grass, but it will have to do.

“Okay.” Namjoon gathers Yoongi up and carries him to the Alpha Chair and sits down with
him, rocking him slowly.

Jimin and Taehyung join them first, followed by Jungkook. They all scent him, and Yoongi
manages to choke out an explanation.

“I’ll email Bang-PD tonight and tell him we need to submit a request for some scent
refreshers,” Joon murmurs, kissing the top of his head. “It’ll be a little early but I think it’ll
be okay.”

“Strange,” Jungkook muses. “You smell so much like Hobi-hyung I thought he must have left
you a lot of scented things!”

Jungkook goes into the kitchen. Taehyung leans forward and sticks his face into Yoongi’s
neck, and inhales deeply. He sits back and studies Yoongi with a thoughtful expression.

Jimin goes to his room, and comes back with a t-shirt that smells strongly of Hobi, which
both helps and makes Yoongi start crying again.

Jungkook comes back with a glass of water and a bowl of hot rice, and hands them to Yoongi.

“Has anyone been having weird dreams?” Taehyung asks, while Yoongi takes one cautious
bite of rice, and then another.

“Weird how?” Jimin asks. “Teeth falling out? Naked on stage? Performing at MAMA and the
audience is full of talking flowers? Because I’ve had one of each of those this week.”

They all turn to look at him, and he shrugs.

“Okay.” Taehyung stands up. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Don’t wait for me for dinner.”

He puts on a hoodie and a mask and goes out.

He’s gone for a while.

When he comes back he has two bags of Yoongi’s favorite snacks, two pints of ice cream and
four different pregnancy tests.

“I got them from the Omega Closet at the company,” Taehyung explains, to Namjoon’s look
of alarmed inquiry. “I’ll replace them before noona notices they’re gone.”

Yoongi extracts himself from Namjoon’s lap and wobbles into the bathroom to take the tests,
Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind him.
When the first little “+” pops up, he frowns.

“I think this one is defective,” he grumbles at Taehyung.

“Maybe you need more pee,” Jimin offers, peering over his shoulder. “Drink some water and
try again.”

Yoongi sighs heavily and goes to the kitchen to chug two glasses of water. Then he goes back
to the bathroom and spends some time scrolling through his messages before taking the next
two tests.

He gets another “+” and a PREGNANT, and a cold chill washes over him as his conversation
with Halsey suddenly makes sense.

“Do one more,” Taehyung murmurs, handing him another cup of water.

Half an hour later, the tiny screen once again reads PREGNANT.

Yoongi lays them all on the counter and stares at them, dumbfounded. Joon comes to the
door, and Yoongi holds them up so he can see.

“Well, shit,” Joon says.

 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

Yoongi goes to the doctor, and makes some announcements.

Chapter Notes

With thanks once again to 7letmeloveyou and sinsense for providing invaluable
feedback and encouragement. Also thanks to the BTS Beta Service, y'all are the best!

Vocabulary in this chapter:

taemyeong: pregnancy nickname for the baby.
Kkochssi: flower seed
Beoseos: mushroom
Jumeogbab: rice ball

Also, y'all, omegaverse is fiction but amoxicillin interfering with birth control is a very
real thing!!

“Congratulations, Yoongi-ssi,” Dr. Kang trills, turning away from the scan on the screen
behind her, and giving him a bright smile. “You’re about three months along, and the scan
looks good. She’s very healthy!”

Yoongi blinks. There is still cold gel on his belly and his brain is full of static.

“Can I answer any questions for you?” the doctor asks, her pleased expression fading to
something between wary and concerned.

She’s not his regular doctor. Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung usually schedule their annual
omega health appointments weeks in advance, since they have to come outside of regular
practice hours so they don’t end up on the front page of Dispatch every time they need a
check-up or to renew a prescription. Yoongi doesn’t know what Namjoon had said on the
phone that morning, but it had been enough for the practice to clear the waiting room in the
middle of the day and get Dr. Kang to give up her lunch hour to see him. He’s just hoping
none of the other patients know exactly why their appointments got canceled.

Yoongi also hopes the doctor’s not the type to gossip. Male omega idols are not as
uncommon as they used to be, but still, even a vague reference would probably be enough to
enable someone to connect the dots.
“How did this – ” Yoongi starts, then stops, tries again. “I - we - use birth control.” It comes
out sounding more like a question. “I took all of the pills, and I watched my omega partners
take theirs. And they aren’t pregnant.”

(Jimin and Taehyung had both taken two tests each, the night before. They had both gotten
clear NOT PREGNANT results. Jimin had been relieved, but Taehyung had smelled a little
disappointed. Yoongi was resolutely not thinking about that too much.)

The doctor makes a thoughtful noise, and looks down at her notes. “You said you were ill,
before and during your alpha partner’s last rut. Were you taking antibiotics for that illness
while you were, ah, intimate with your partner?”

“Yes,” Yoongi confirms, and the doctor makes an “ah-hah!” sort of noise.

“That’ll get you every time,” she explains, with some sympathy. “Now, let me get you a copy
of the scan, and some vitamins, and we’ll book you in to see Dr. Song in a month.”

Yoongi nods. There are more questions he should ask, but he can’t get the sentences to form.
Part of him wishes he had taken Namjoon up on his offer to come to the appointment, and
part of him is glad he gets to absorb this news in private before he has to share it with
anyone.

Yoongi checks out, picks up the vitamins, then gets in the car and goes home. He pulls out his
phone and scrolls through his contact list. There are a lot of names there. A lot of worlds he’s
about to throw into complete disarray. A lot of plans he’s about to ruin. The weight of that
thought makes his chest hurt.

After a minute he clicks over to the tour groupchat and scrolls through the morning’s
messages, dropping the occasional thumbs up or !! where appropriate. He might not know
very much about what he’s going to do next, but one thing he is sure of is that he’s finishing
the AgustD tour. If Rihanna and Beyoncé can perform while pregnant, so can he.

**

When he opens the front door, the pack is waiting for him on the couch with anxious,
expectant faces.

“I’m due in January.” He’s proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

They all stand up, but Jungkook gets to Yoongi first, and gathers him into a hug. He smells
like joy and angel food cake. Yoongi sags against him for a moment, and tries to take a deep
breath and calm down. Jungkook nuzzles him gently and passes him to Namjoon to be
scented.

“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbles into Namjoon’s broad chest. Namjoon smells happy and concerned
and stressed and Yoongi can feel his throat closing up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

Namjoon squeezes him and rubs his back and kisses the top of his head. “Shhh, honey. It’s
gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”
Taehyung and Jimin wriggle under Namjoon’s arms and murmur similar reassurances, which
is when Yoongi starts to cry. He doesn’t fight it when Namjoon scoops him up and carries
him to the pack nest.

“Do you want us to be there when you call Jin and Hobi?” Jimin asks a little later, once
they’re all settled, with Yoongi in Namjoon’s lap, the omegas on either side. Jungkook, who
stopped to get tea and snacks, is perched at the end of the bed.

Yoongi sighs, and closes his eyes briefly. “I’m not going to tell them yet. I don’t want to do it
while they’re on base – too many eyes and ears. Yijeon is convinced Dispatch has moles in
the barracks in every camp. I’ll wait until the next time they come home.”

“But –” Namjoon and Jimin start, together, as the pack scent turns sour.

Yoongi’s heart clenches with anxiety, but he still sits up a little straighter, ready to argue. He
hates keeping a secret from his packmates, and especially from his alpha, but he is not telling
Hobi and Jin he’s pregnant while they’re in a place where it’s impossible to have a truly
private conversation, and dangerous to have any kind of reaction to personal news at all.
Even if nobody calls the papers directly, all they need is one soldier writing home with the
information and their family member tweeting about it to bring the media down on them.

He thinks of Halsey whispering the risks, and the vultures, and steels himself to meet
Namjoon’s eyes. “I don’t want her, or us, on the evening news right now. Let me protect her a
little longer, alpha. They’ll be home in a month, and I’ll tell them then.”

Namjoon regards him steadily, then nods. “All right, hyung. But we’ll need to film some
content ahead of time, so we’ll have it ready when the time comes.”

Yoongi makes a face, but nods his acquiescence.

“We’re going to be on the evening news anyway, we always are,” Jimin mutters, mulishly,
but subsides when Yoongi glares at him. “All right, hyung.”

“Are there any media people you do want to talk to?” Namjoon asks, his tone turning more
business-like. “Not now, but like, eventually.”

Yoongi is quiet for a moment, thinking about it. “Probably Zach Sang. But I’ll discuss it with
Hobi first. He won’t be able to come with me but – he should get a say.”

Namjoon makes a low noise of agreement, and a note on his phone. Yoongi finishes his tea
and leaves Namjoon to curl up on Jimin instead. He’s worn out and just wants his nestmates.
Jimin slides his fingers onto the back of Yoongi’s neck and scritches gently, while Taehyung
pulls a blanket over him.

Namjoon drops a kiss on Yoongi’s head, then gets up and leaves, presumably to start dealing
with all of the ways Yoongi has fucked up their plans for the next several years. Jungkook is
next, muttering something about getting started on the nursery as he packs up the tea things.
Jimin starts purring, and Yoongi burrows closer. He drifts off to the sound of Jimin and
Taehyung bickering about which luxury brand has the cutest baby clothes.

**

The next morning, Yoongi calls Hobi’s mother first, as is traditional, and then his own. He
lets their stunned joy wash over him, and then he swears them to secrecy.

After that there are a lot of meetings. Yoongi sits down with pretty much everyone involved
in his professional life – Bang PD, their lawyers, their managers and bodyguards, their
stylists, their publicists, his choreographers – and tells them the news, and that it is absolutely
top secret until after the end of the AgustD tour. Their reactions are mostly the same: shock,
congratulations, and then, a cavalcade of questions, starting with what are you going to do
now? Many of them are also full of advice and warnings, eager to tell him about supplements
he should be taking and activities he should be avoiding, as well as the potential dire
consequences of ignoring their advice.

By the end of the week Yoongi is deeply grateful for how supportive everyone has been and
also ready to bite the next person that asks him how he’s feeling. He locks himself in the
Genius Lab, curls up in his nest, and stays there until Jungkook comes and coaxes him out
with tteokbokki.

**
Yoongi rebuilds his nest. He gathers material from around the apartment – blankets from
Jimin and Taehyung, a sweatshirt from Namjoon, pillows from Jungkook, freshly scented
towels sent by Jin and Hobi – and starts making layers. He has to stop and rest frequently,
and the bump, small though it is, throws off his center of gravity and makes him wobbly.
When he’s finished he curls up in the middle and crashes.

Yoongi wakes up because someone is petting his hair. When he opens his eyes, Hobi is
kneeling next to his nest in civilian clothes, his expression unbearably fond.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Hobi whispers, tipping forward to rub his face against Yoongi’s cheek.
“You okay? Joonie said you weren’t feeling well and you smell –”

“I’m pregnant, Hob-ah,” Yoongi confesses. He pulls the blanket back and moves Hobi’s hand
so it’s resting on his stomach. He looks into Hobi’s adorably wide, stunned eyes and takes a
deep breath. “She’s yours, alpha. She’ll be here in January.”

“Mine?” Hobi repeats, blank and stunned, and Yoongi nods. “But –”

“Apparently antibiotics can make birth control not work,” Yoongi explains. “Remember how
I had strep just before your last rut and got put on a week’s worth of meds? We can make her
taemyeong Amoxicillin.”

Hobi blinks, and then surges forward and catches Yoongi in a hug. Yoongi lets out a little
squeak, and Hobi loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. Yoongi puts his face into Hobi’s neck
and inhales deeply. His scent is blunted by blockers, and full of mixed feelings, but the
dominant one is joy.
“Did you just find out?” Hobi asks, still stunned.

“No,” Yoongi murmurs, curling a little closer and lapping at Hobi’s scent gland. “It’s been
about a month. I’m sorry, I just - I was afraid to tell you, or Jin, in case someone overheard. I
want her debut to be announced on Weverse, not Dispatch.”

Hobi makes a noise of rueful understanding, and gives Yoongi a gentle squeeze.

“You really aren’t mad?” Yoongi whispers. “It’s okay if you are –”

“Mad?” Hobi repeats, sounding confused. He sits back, and catches Yoongi’s face in his
hands. “Why would I be mad?” His expression sharpens, along with his scent. “Did someone
scold you about this?”

“No, even though I did just fuck up our career plans,” Yoongi mumbles. “And maybe tanked
our stock price and ruined K-pop’s reputation.”

Hobi’s expression tightens further, but his scent turns warm and soothing. “Arguably we
fucked up our career plans. It was me that chose to not wear a condom, after all.” He sighs,
and rubs his wrists against Yoongi’s face. “Really, though, honey, it’s going to be fine. It’s
just a baby. You can still write songs and rap and make beats and I can still dance. People
tour with kids all the time. We’ll be okay.” He pauses, his mouth twisting slightly and eyes
alight with amusement. “I also think both our stock price and K-pop will survive you, a
grown omega, having a child with your well-established pack.”

He pulls Yoongi in for another hug, which turns into him climbing into the nest and wrapping
his whole body around Yoongi when Yoongi starts to cry.

“Now, what are you really calling her?” Hobi asks, once Yoongi is down to only sniffles.

“Taehyung’s been using Kkochssi,” Yoongi says. “Namjoon and Jungkook are lobbying for
Beoseos. Jimin suggested Jumeogbab, because she’s made me eat so many of them. Jin liked
that one too.”

Hobi makes a thoughtful noise. “I think I’m with Taehyung. She’s our little flower seed
growing inside you. Which one do you like, since you’re the tiebreaker?”

Yoongi nuzzles into his neck, trying to get more of Hobi’s scent. He’s been waiting to find
out Hobi’s preference. “Kkochssi will work.”

“All right. Now, tell me all about her,” Hobi says, pulling the blanket up over them. “What
have I missed?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath and launches into it, covering everything, including his ongoing
inability to drink coffee, the enormous box of baby things Halsey had sent when he texted her
the scan, and the way Jin had shrieked when he saw the curve of Yoongi’s belly in the kitchen
that morning.

When he’s done, Hobi is quiet for a while, petting Yoongi’s back in slow, gentle strokes.
“I was wondering why eomma took up knitting all of a sudden,” he finally says. “She made
me the most amazingly ugly hat, honey, you have to see it. It’s totally out of uniform regs and
I can’t wear it anywhere.”

Yoongi laughs, and then braces himself for the final hurdle. “I was going to tell ARMY
tomorrow. At the end of the concert.”

“So soon,” Hobi murmurs, his scent thickening with concern. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Yoongi sighs, because he’d rather keep it a secret until she’s safely in the world. But he
knows that will be impossible. There have already been a couple of close calls. “But I want
them to hear it from me, first, and not the media. I’m starting to show and I won’t be able to
hide it much longer. And we’re going to have to make an announcement about the delay in
my service, too.”

That part had been surprisingly easy to arrange. Yoongi had been expecting a fight, and
instead got a series of forms he and his doctor had to fill out. Of course the public was
probably still going to have strong opinions about it, but at least there would be no evidence
of special treatment.

Hobi makes a low, rueful noise of acknowledgement, and starts scratching Yoongi’s back.
“I’ll have to file for paternity leave.”

“Joon already put in the Pack Expansion form,” Yoongi adds. Just thinking about it makes his
pulse quicken, and not in a fun way.

Hobi shifts and wraps around him again. “Gonna be okay, honey,” he whispers, and Yoongi
tries very hard to believe him.

**

Yoongi waits for the screaming to die down.

This is it, he thinks. Here we go. He shrugs out of his jacket and drops it on the chair. He puts
his hand on the swell of his stomach, looks up at the outer reaches of the stadium, and smiles.
He rubs his belly, slowly, and waves at the crowd. Behind him, the image from his most
recent scan slowly appears on the screen.

A hush falls over the arena. Yoongi lowers his hand and grips the back of the chair tightly.

Then all the ARMY bombs come on at once, the room turns purple, and the screaming starts
up again. Yoongi laughs, joyful and relieved, and waves again.

Then he picks his jacket up, and turns and walks off stage, pulling the door shut behind him.

**

The Live afterwards is absolute chaos. Yoongi gets so many calls and texts that his phone is
just one continuous notification and he has to use his laptop. As soon as he turns it on, the
comments start scrolling faster than he can read them.
“I’m okay,” he says, slowly, and in English. “I feel good.” He repeats it twice, once in Korean
and once in Japanese.

The chat is still scrolling too fast for him to identify questions, so he doesn’t even bother to
try.

“Thank you,” he continues. “It’s time for me to sleep now. Good night, ARMY! Sleep well!
Stay healthy!”

He waves goodbye, then clicks the live off, and goes home to his pack.
 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

Yoongi at long last has a baby.

Chapter Notes

With thanks, as ever, to 7letmeloveyou and sinsense, for being beta-reading champions.

Vocabulary:
Songpyeon are rice cakes, and a traditional Chuseok food.

Other notes: 1) I have shuffled the date of Yoongi's Mystery Photo Shoot slightly, for my
own nefarious purposes and 2) this chapter contains explicit sexual content. If you
would like to skip it, stop reading at “Honey, I’m hooome,” and pick up again at
"Yoongi’s water breaks".

thank you everyone who held on for the end of this ride!

“One more time,” the director calls out. “From the top.”

It’s the eighth take, and even with scent-blockers it’s obvious he’s starting to get annoyed
with them. Yoongi can feel a headache building behind his eyes already, and the day has only
just begun.

“Ready? DUL! SET!” Namjoon starts.

They do the greeting and bow, and settle into their chairs in fanchant order. This time nobody
falls off their chair, or knocks over the cardboard cutouts of Jin and Hobi.

“Hi ARMY,” Namjoon continues. “We have a very special announcement to make. The
Bangtan pack is going to have a new member! We aren’t ready to share her name yet, but
she’s going to debut in January.”

Yoongi suppresses a sigh. There had been a long debate about sharing the baby’s gender,
which Jimin had finally ended by pointing out that if they didn’t, it would become (continue
to be) a national guessing game and they’d be asked about it every time they went outside.
Yoongi knows Jimin is right, but he’s not happy about it.
“Please look forward to welcoming her,” Taehyung chimes in, giving the camera a big boxy
grin.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, and drinks from his glass of water. He does not knock it over this
time, or drop it on the floor.

“We’re also going to have some changes to our schedules,” Jimin adds. “But don’t worry!
We’ll still be coming back to you together, as seven.”

“We will always be seven, on stage,” Jungkook echoes, giving the camera a pointed look.

This line is also the result of an extended discussion. The first draft had included the phrase
until the maknae gets a little bigger which was a good line and a sweet thought and also
made Yoongi grind his teeth. He knew better than to make pronouncements like my daughter
will never be on stage in front of a camera, because that was the kind of thing that got
included as comic relief in predebut publicity packages for young idols. He puts his hand on
his belly and sighs. You can be on stage if you want to be, he thinks. But only if you want to
be.

Yoongi clears his throat. “Please stay healthy, and be sure to eat well and stay warm. See you
later!”

“Cut!” the director calls out. “Perfect, thank you everyone.”

They get up and mill around getting water and snacks, and in Yoongi and Namjoon’s case,
watching the segment on a monitor to decide if they need yet another re-shoot.

“I think we’re good, on this part,” Namjoon murmurs. “See you in the conference room in
five?”

Yoongi makes a face, but nods.

They have, as Jimin predicted, been on the evening news, and also in the paper, on the radio,
several podcasts and uncountable blogs. They’ve also been trending on Naver and every
social media site, including Pinterest. Several outlets have requested interviews, but Yoongi
has declined all of them. Absent any comment from him or the pack, the media has been
forced to chew on itself, and coverage has thus included endless listicles of the available
facts, think pieces about Yoongi’s future with the group and as an idol generally, and
impertinent speculation as to which Bangtan alpha is the father of the child.

Meanwhile, everywhere Yoongi goes, even in the HYBE building, he can feel people staring
at him. They know better to whisper where he or anyone else in the Bangtan pack could hear
them; he knows they are whispering. He’s not the first omega idol to get pregnant, and he’s
not even the first male omega idol to get pregnant, but he definitely is the most famous
pregnant idol of any gender or sub-gender. He is keenly aware that whatever he does will be
the blueprint. Part of him wants to retreat to the pack nest for the duration. Part of him wants
to come to work every day in a belly shirt and hot pants and stare down every pinch-faced
busy-body with an opinion about the contents of his uterus.
On the plus side, their hoobae have all been sweetly supportive, Hobi and Jin report their
fellow soldiers have been universally congratulatory, and ARMY has sent so many baby
things they have had to assign six interns and devote two large conference rooms to sorting
the packages. Yoongi has given instructions that they are to keep anything that looks
homemade, and plans to donate the rest to hospitals in Seoul and Daegu. He’s also got a
rapidly growing stack of mail from children’s hospitals around the world that have received
ARMY donations in honor of him and his unborn child.

The conference room, when Yoongi gets there, has even more snacks, a full tea service, and
their regular documentary set-up of various chairs and tables and couches. Jimin intercepts
him on his way to the snacks and forces him to sit down, then brings him a plate of finger
foods and a cup of tea. Jimin returns to the snack table, and comes back with two more plates
of food and sits down next to Yoongi. The rest of the pack are all wedged into one chair, with
Taehyung perched on Namjoon’s knee and Jungkook squeezed in the seat next to Namjoon.
Jungkook is feeding both of them from his own plate. Yoongi would normally make a snarky
comment about it, but he finds he doesn’t have the energy for it today. Also they are super
cute.

The director comes in a few minutes later and makes them all separate and sit on different
chairs. Meanwhile the staff finalizes the camera set-up and adjusts the lights.

“What did you think when you first heard the pack was expanding?” the director prompts
Namjoon.

Yoongi nibbles on a piece of mandu and wishes Hobi was there, so he could be cuddled in his
lap between takes, and nuzzle into his neck.

Namjoon grins, eyes crinkled and dimples out. “I was surprised, so I said something like, oh
shit. But then I was really happy. It’s scary but it’s also exciting.” He sobers abruptly and
gives the camera a serious look, the kind that makes Yoongi’s toes curl. “It’s a big
responsibility, but I think we’re ready.”

“I was relieved,” Jimin says, when it’s his turn. “I was traveling with Yoongi-hyung while he
was on tour in America and he was so sick. I was really worried about his health. So I was
grateful that it was good news.”

Yoongi blinks, suffused with a wash of guilt and gratitude, and wills himself not to cry.

Jungkook sits up straight and grins shyly at the camera. “I started researching things babies
need. I made a list, and a spreadsheet –” he pauses, his grin widening as the rest of them
groan in mock despair. He’s infamous for his spreadsheets. “And I did some sketches of the
nursery.”

“I was thinking, I want to be next,” Taehyung announces. Yoongi almost chokes on his tea;
Jimin sits up and stares at him, and Namjoon’s eyes go wide. Only Jungkook seems
unsurprised, which Yoongi files away to investigate later. “Now is a good time, when we all
only have individual schedules. And it can happen even while fulfilling other
responsibilities.”
Yoongi lets out a low, irritated huff, but he has to concede the point. Male omegas being
restricted to civil service positions for their national service was, generally speaking, grossly
unfair and infuriating, but at least there were provisions for parental leave. The Pack
Expansion form was absurdly long and complicated, but filing it meant the rest of the pack
could be transferred or assigned to bases closer to Seoul.

“I was shocked,” Yoongi shares, when the camera gets turned on him. “I wasn’t expecting it.
I didn’t know what to say.” He takes a breath. He can feel himself tearing up again. “I was
anxious, too. Worried about how it would impact the members and the team. I have been
grateful for their love and support.”

Jimin gets up and runs over to hug him. Yoongi wipes his eyes, laughing a little and
mumbling about hormones. Jimin squeezes him gently and does a tiny, barely-there chomp
on the pack bite on Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi nestles into him, and Jimin starts up a low, rumbly
purr that shakes a few more tears out of Yoongi.

“Okay, next question,” the director announces, waving the camera away from them. “It’s
unusual for idol packs to expand. What’s that been like?”

“Some people have asked me, what happened? How do we avoid this mistake?” Taehyung
begins, and Jimin inhales sharply. Yoongi squeezes his own knees and notes, absently, that
this time Jungkook does look shocked. “And I tell them: our little Kkochssi is not a mistake.”
His voice is low and serious, his face set in stern lines. “She’s a surprise. And I am going to
buy her so many dresses.”

“It can be very difficult, being a team and a pack,” Namjoon says, shifting forward to give
the camera a steady, direct look. Jimin’s grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens. “We’ve had our
struggles in the past. But I had still dreamed about expanding the pack, if we all thought we
were ready, and wanted to do it.” He gives the camera another big dimpled grin. “I even
bought baby shoes!” He sobers again. “Even though this was unexpected I think it’s part of
our growth, and becoming the next and best versions of ourselves.”

Oh my god, Jimin whispers in Yoongi’s ear, and Yoongi can only hum his agreement. They
all knew about the baby shoes, but they had also all bought Namjoon’s “I’m just appreciating
the designs!” excuse. Just like they all believed you when you said you busted your shoulder
falling down the stairs, he reminds himself, and settles back into the couch.

“It’s a lot of responsibility,” Jungkook adds, still adorably earnest. “I’ve really missed Jin-
hyung and his cooking skills! And I’ve had a lot of questions from other betas, about how to
take care of a pregnant omega. I told them they need to invest in an ice cream freezer.”

Everyone cracks up, even Yoongi, and it takes a minute to get them all quieted down and
resettled.

“I hope that other packs are encouraged by us,” Jimin almost whispers, squeezing Yoongi’s
hand. “And get to experience the happiness of pack expansion, if that’s what they want. But
also know they do not have to do it, if they don’t want to. It’s a big step!”
“It sure is,” the director agrees. And then: “Last question: How has ARMY reacted to the
news?”

“ARMY have shared our joy,” Namjoon states, still looking very serious. “We are always
grateful for their support, but this time has been really special.”

“I’ve been watching their v-logs,” Taehyung says. “They have a lot of interesting ideas for
decorating the nursery.” He pauses, as a low ripple of amusement passes through the rest of
them. “I like the Simpsons themed ones the best, but Yoongi-hyung has a different taste.”

Jimin snorts in Yoongi’s ear, and Yoongi barely suppresses a sigh. He’s actually given Hobi
and Jungkook free reign, after making it clear he’s not dealing with Bart Simpson leering at
him from every corner. Jungkook had won the argument about KAWS by insisting it was too
scary for a newborn, and currently they seem to have settled on a Peanuts concept. Yoongi is
mostly just grateful that there are so many Snoopy-themed things for children.

“They have given us lots of love and support,” Jungkook adds, tucking his hair behind his
ears. “We look forward to seeing them as soon as we can.”

“Cut!” the director calls out. “That’s great. 10 minutes and then we’ll do some stills, and after
that we’re done for today.”

Yoongi heaves a sigh of relief, and slumps against Jimin’s shoulder. He does feel better, now
that he’s no longer keeping an enormous secret, but he’s also tired of talking about it.

“Are you okay, hyung? Do we need to reschedule?” Jimin asks, turning to look at him, eyes
wide with concern. “Do you want to go back to the nest?”

Yoongi straightens up. “I’m fine. Let’s just get it done.”

Jimin gives him a narrow, thoughtful look, but doesn’t press further. He does make Yoongi
another cup of tea, which Yoongi drinks, slowly, while the makeup and stylist noonas sweep
in to touch them all up and bring them new outfits. The concept for the shoot seems to be
“fuzzy flower garden” – even Hobi and Jin’s cutouts are dressed in floral patterned shirts –
which Yoongi recognizes as a show of support. The only reason he doesn’t start crying again
is he doesn’t want to ruin the makeup noona's hard work.

They do the traditional pack expansion announcement poses: all the omegas cuddled
together, with Yoongi in the middle; the alpha hand-on-the-belly, with Namjoon and a special
cut-out of Hobi made just for the shot; the maknae-holding-the-baby-shoes with Jungkook
wearing t-shirt with OPPA written across it in floral letters; and several of Yoongi by himself,
gazing dreamily into space with his hands in various places on his stomach. Yoongi spends
most of it actively reminding himself not to grimace, and that ARMY (and his eomma) will
love the photos.

For the last one, of the whole pack together, Namjoon sits down and pulls Yoongi into his
lap, and wraps his arms around him. It’s a very protective pack alpha thing to do, and Yoongi
is both grateful and wants to pinch him. The rest of the members slot themselves into place
around them, and the photographer’s assistants move the cutouts of Jin and Hobi.
“Just a little longer, hyung, we’re almost done,” Namjoon whispers in Yoongi’s ear.

Yoongi makes a low noise of acknowledgement, and presses his face into Namjoon’s chest.
He stays there, letting Namjoon pet him, until he hears the click click of the camera. He curls
his fingers into Namjoon’s shirt, then turns around and summons up one more smile.

**
Jin and Hobi are both able to come home for Chuseok. They arrive with bags of pine needles,
fresh-picked from trees near their bases, and bags of presents.

That night, the pack orders in and watches a movie. Yoongi falls asleep on the couch, warm
and full in Hobi’s arms, and doesn’t wake up even when Hobi carries him to bed.

The next morning, Jin takes over the kitchen immediately after breakfast. While Hobi and
Namjoon go out to do some last-minute shopping – and, Yoongi suspects, to have a Secret
Alpha Talk – Yoongi helps with the food prep. He happily chops vegetables while Jin fusses
and frets and yells at him to sit down.

The rest of the pack surfaces over the course of the morning. Jungkook arrives first, rumpled
and sleepy, and promptly gets put to work making the dough for the songpyeon. Taehyung
and Jimin drift in an hour or so later, and make nuisances of themselves, eating out of the
pots simmering on the stove. Yoongi laughs at Jin’s outrage, but also retreats to the kitchen
table, where it is cooler and less crowded.

Jungkook joins him, and they are still there, peacefully making songpyeon, when the alphas
come home.

Namjoon is first through the door, his arms full of groceries, with Hobi right behind him.
Jimin and Taehyung go through the bags for treats in the course of putting the contents away,
and are initially loudly disappointed to find none. They are then equally loudly pleased when
Hobi produces sweets from his pockets. Yoongi and Jungkook are happy to receive theirs,
when Hobi brings them over, but they’re quieter about it. Hobi kisses both of them, though
Yoongi gets a little more tongue than Jungkook, then wades back into the fray by the stove.

Meanwhile, Taehyung and Namjoon start singing all the pop songs Jin and Hobi have missed
while they were away. This morphs into impromptu dance practice with Jimin and Hobi,
which results in Namjoon almost falling down twice and yet more affectionate yelling.
Yoongi stops making rice cakes to watch them, happiness bubbling up in him.

“That’s it, that’s enough, get OUT,” Jin bellows, in what Yoongi decides must be his drill
sergeant voice, when Taehyung steals a spatula to use a microphone and splashes sauce all
over the floor.

Namjoon leads them away in a wobbly conga line, and dance practice resumes out of reach of
Jin’s wrath. Eventually Jimin and Hobi tap out and flop down on nearby chairs, and
Taehyung and Namjoon start having a rap battle.

Yoongi is watching them, both nodding along to Namjoon’s flow and trying to watch to make
sure he doesn’t slip on some errant sauce and land in Yoongi’s lap, when Hobi stands up and
says “STOP” in his drill sergeant voice.

In the ensuing silence, Yoongi realizes that Jungkook is growling at Namjoon. A clear,
distinct, back the fuck up kind of growl. Yoongi didn’t even know betas could make that
noise. Yoongi also abruptly realizes Jungkook’s normally light vanilla scent is thick and
heavy, cutting through the smell of roasting spiced meat, and his eyes are narrowed.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” Namjoon says, tone and scent both more baffled than angry.

“Did alpha get too loud, baby? Too close?” Hobi asks, nudging Namjoon back and into a
chair.

Yoongi reaches out and grabs one of Jungkook’s hands, and rubs Jungkook’s wrist against his
own.

Jungkook blinks, and his eyes return to normal, though his scent turns sour with
embarrassment.

“It’s okay, baby,” Jin says, coming out of the kitchen. “You’re okay. Nobody’s mad.”

“We are however very confused,” Namjoon chimes in.

“Sorry, hyungs,” Jungkook mumbles, looking down at his hands. “I don’t - I don’t know what
happened.”

“Yoongi, were you feeling anxious about something?” Hobi asks, as Jin sits down and puts an
arm around Jungkook, and pulls him in to be scented.

Yoongi frowns. “No? I mean, other than Joon maybe falling on his ass and us having to go to
the ER on Chuseok.”

Namjoon flushes, but doesn’t argue. Hobi makes a low, thoughtful noise. “That could be
enough to do it.”

“Joon falls on his ass all the time and that doesn’t make Jungkook growl,” Jimin argues,
leaning forward.

“It’s not the falling, it’s Yoongi worrying about the falling, or being concerned Namjoon is
going to fall on him,” Jin explains, turning to nuzzle Jungkook. “It’s just instincts, honey.
You’re a beta protecting your pregnant omega. Happens all the time.”

“It does?” Taehyung says, in clear disbelief. “I’ve never heard a beta growl like that before.”

“It’s the first thing they tell us to listen for, when we get to camp,” Jin explains.

“But – ” Jimin starts, then falls silent.

“They’re all very young,” Hobi murmurs. “Sometimes it’s someone who had an unusual
presentation, and thinks they’re a beta. Or someone who is trying to pretend to be a beta, and
then –” he stops, and sighs. “They don’t always know the signs of being an omega or of
being pregnant. We had good sex education, as trainees, but not everyone does.”

There is a silence as everyone absorbs this information.

“What happens to them?” Jungkook asks, a note of concern in his voice.

Jin sighs heavily and purses his lips. “They get sent home to their packs, if they have one,
and are eventually transferred to the Civil Service.”

Yoongi rubs his wrist against Jungkook’s again, and makes a mental note to talk to Jin and
Hobi later. He’s been thinking about making a contribution to a pregnancy-related charity,
specifically one for young and pack-less omegas, and this is only strengthening his resolve.

“Okay,” Jimin breathes. “Jin, do you need any help with dinner?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin says. “All of you please go do something in the living room and let me
commune with my oven in peace.”

Hobi stays behind, but the rest of them obediently shuffle off. Yoongi makes a point of
curling up on the couch between Joon and Jungkook, and purring quietly until they settle.

**
“What you need is a spa day,” Taehyung pronounces, from his place next to Yoongi’s head.

They are in the pack nest, snuggled up in warm soft blankets and pillows while an early snow
falls outside. Jimin is perched astride Yoongi’s thighs, rubbing lotion on the swell of his belly
and singing trot songs to the baby. She seems to be enjoying it, because she’s dancing on
Yoongi’s bladder.

“I do not,” Yoongi mutters, in reflexive protest. “I hate the spa.”

“You love the spa,” Taehyung counters. “Everybody loves the spa. Also it's good for the
baby.”

“Is it really?” Yoongi asks, though he has a feeling he has already lost this argument.

“Anything that reduces stress is good for the baby,” Jimin chimes in, scooping up another
dollop of lotion. “You have been very stressed.”

Yoongi sighs heavily. He has been busy, because he’s been shuttling between a never ending
series of doctor’s appointments and his studio, trying to wrap up as many projects as possible
while the baby is still inside. The baby, for her part, has been focused on pummeling his
internal organs and radically updating his diet. She’s rejected any and all healthy food in
favor of ice cream and the grill offerings at the convenience store near their apartment.
Jungkook has started setting an alarm for Yoongi’s three a.m. cravings, and Yoongi is equal
parts mortified and grateful.

“I’ll pay for it,” Taehyung wheedles, and Jimin echoes him.
“You will not,” Yoongi grumbles, pretending to be irritated to cover up a low wash of shame.
He must really be a mess if his dongsaengs are this insistent. “Hyung will pay.”

Taehyung makes a gleeful noise and leans over to scent Yoongi and press kisses on his face.

“Can we get hot stone massages?” Jimin asks, then yanks his hand back, wide-eyed, when the
baby kicks him.

“Get whatever you want,” Yoongi sighs, arching into a stretch before resettling against the
pillows. Actually a massage does sound like a good idea. His back and shoulder have been
killing him lately.

Taehyung lies down and curls around Yoongi, enveloping him in a cloud of cinnamon-sugar
scented happiness. “We should all get facials.”

“Wouldn’t Namjoon do that for us for free?” Jimin teases, ducking away and laughing when
Taehyung throws a pillow at him.

**
“Hyung,” Jungkook says, low and soft, his voice crackling a little over the mic in the booth.
“Could I take some pictures?”

“Of what?” Yoongi asks, squinting at his screen.

“Of you.” When Yoongi looks up, Jungkook is biting his lip and radiating earnestness and
anxiety.

“Now?” Yoongi asks, thinking, like this? He’s got his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail
and he’s wearing a baggy plain black cotton hanbok and yoga pants, which he’s adopted as
uniform now that his belly will no longer fit in his jeans.

“Maybe next week,” Jungkook offers. “I have to talk to the make-up and stylist noonas and
see if they’re free. And book a studio.”

Yoongi pauses, thinking about it, one hand on his stomach. They did a pack shoot the day
after his concert, but he hasn’t done one on his own yet.

“All right,” he finally decides.

Jungkook does a little victory dance in the booth, and Yoongi can feel himself blushing.

On the day of the shoot Yoongi submits to being primped and painted. Both his face and his
belly get buffed to a high shine, while his hair gets combed out and slicked back. The stylists
show up with several racks of clothes, including a couple of scandalously sheer hanboks.

“Hyung is not wearing that,” he informs Jungkook, hands on his hips.

“All right,” Jungkook murmurs, unruffled, then looks up from the camera and pins Yoongi
with some extra wide and sweet eyes. “You’re beautiful in whatever you’re wearing, hyung.”
“Stop it,” Yoongi snaps, though he doesn’t mean it and he’s unsurprised when Jungkook
ignores him.

They do multiple poses against multiple backgrounds, both with and without clothes, much to
Yoongi’s half-thrilled mortification. Once he’s been naked the sheer hanboks are less
daunting. He tries one of them on, and is rewarded with one of Jungkook’s most radiant
smiles.

A couple of days later Jungkook sends him the final images. Yoongi posts two of the more
modest headshots to his Insta for ARMY to appreciate, but most of them he keeps private,
just for the pack.

The ones in the sheer hanbok he keeps just for Hobi.

**

“Our mission is to take Rock Candy Mountain,” Hobi says, from the top of a pile of pastel
marshmallows. He’s wearing a gingerbread suit, and giant cherries as a life vest and safety
helmet. Underneath the cherry his hair looks like it’s long and black again. Yoongi is
confused, but glad to see him.

“Take it from whom?” Yoongi asks, tightening his grip on the massive snickerdoodle he’s
sitting on. When he looks down he’s wearing a grape as a life vest.

They seem to be floating in the ocean, or maybe a really big river; he can smell saltwater.
Yoongi looks around for the others and doesn’t see them. Hobi doesn’t seem concerned,
though, so Yoongi decides not to worry about it.

“Jin and Jungkook,” Hobi explains. “They won the second challenge. But first we have to go
over the falls.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, just as the river develops rapids, and then drops out from under them.

Yoongi shrieks and wakes up, heart pounding. He tries to sit up and discovers he can’t,
because there is something heavy and sea-water scented (Jimin, his brain fills in) wrapped
around his back.

“Shh, hyung, shhh, it’s okay, just a bad dream, you’re ok,” Taehyung whispers, and Yoongi
sags against his chest.

He rests there for a moment, letting Taehyung soothe him and trying to get back to sleep, but
the baby has woken up too and is once again dancing a jig on his bladder. Yoongi gently
extracts himself from Jimin’s hold and pushes himself upright. There’s just enough light for
him to be able to tell he’s ended up in the middle of the pack pile again, which perhaps
explains the weird dreams. He’s normally closer to the outside, with just Hobi at his back.
Yoongi squeezes Taehyung’s calf so he’ll pull his legs up, and levers himself over the curve
of Namjoon’s hip.
“Toilet,” he hisses, when Namjoon makes a rumbly alpha noise of inquiry. Namjoon grunts
and subsides, and Yoongi presses a kiss to his cheek before he gets the rest of the way out of
bed.

When Yoongi comes out of the bathroom, he realizes he’s hungry, and changes course to
waddle into the kitchen. He’s hunched over the freezer considering his ice cream choices
when he catches a whiff of vanilla, and then Jungkook is there, bleary-eyed and draping him
in a bathrobe.

Yoongi fixes bowls for both of them. Jungkook takes his with a big yawn and a sweet smile.

“Sorry to wake you up,” Yoongi mumbles. Jungkook waves a spoon at him and digs into his
ice cream.

They eat in the Alpha Chair, Yoongi with his legs draped over Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook
finishes first. He sets his bowl down on the end table, on top of one of Namjoon’s stacks of
books, and curls into Yoongi. He smells sleepy and content but also . . . something else.
Yoongi presses his nose into Jungkook’s neck and frowns, trying to place the emotion.

“‘m fine,” Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi scratches his back and waits. Jungkook is uncharacteristically stubbornly silent.

“You smell . . .sad?” Yoongi finally asks, nuzzling along Jungkook’s pack bite. “What’s
wrong, baby?”

“Not a baby anymore,” Jungkook grumbles, but he cuddles closer and sighs. “Remember
when you used to help me with my math homework?”

Yoongi snorts. “All I did was provide snacks.”

Which was true; Namjoon and Hobi had done the bulk of shepherding the younger ones
through their final years of school. There had been many, many stressed and tearful nights in
the kitchen for all of them.

“They were helpful snacks,” Jungkook mumbles. “Hyungs couldn’t scold me when their
mouths were full.”

Yoongi laughs, and Jungkook’s scent brightens up to something closer to true happiness.

“So glad I never have to think about algebra again,” Jungkook sighs. “But I do miss being
little sometimes. I don’t fit in hyung’s lap anymore.”

He sounds, and smells, more wistful than really upset, but Yoongi’s heart still clenches. The
other part of “helping with homework” had been to develop a sense of when it was time to
send the alphas away and take the maknae into the pack nest for some TLC. Jungkook, the
most tender hearted and loving of all of them, had suffered greatly from the many indignities
of high school.
“Aish, honey, you can lift as many weights as you want, you’ll still be our little one. There
will always be room in hyung’s lap for you,” Yoongi says, letting a low rumbly purr bubble
up in his throat, and kissing Jungkook’s temple when he ducks his head.

They stay there, nestled together, until Jungkook’s breathing slows, and he starts snoring
softly. Yoongi is half asleep himself when he smells pine and a low-banked fire. When he
opens his eyes, Namjoon is standing in the doorway to the kitchen looking sleepy and
confused.

Yoongi chirps, softly, to let him know they’re okay, and he can go back to bed. Instead
Namjoon comes over and scoops Jungkook up.

“Yah, Joon-ah, put him down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Yoongi hisses, because
cuddling Jungkook is one thing but carrying him around is another.

Namjoon ignores that as well, and heads toward the pack bedroom with Jungkook in his
arms. He comes back a few moments later and gathers Yoongi up, rumbling softly and
mouthing at Yoongi’s pack bite to soothe him when he splutters a protest. When they get to
the room, Namjoon deposits Yoongi on the bed next to where Taehyung and Jimin are wound
around Jungkook and each other. He watches while Yoongi settles down, curling up with his
back pressed against Taehyung’s shoulders. Then he gets in and stretches out so they’re
facing each other, rests a hand on Yoongi’s belly, and tangles their legs together.

“Better?” Yoongi whispers, and gets a low rumble in response.

Yoongi pulls the sheet over Namjoon’s shoulders, and drifts off to the sound of Taehyung
purring in his sleep.

**
Yoongi’s due date comes and goes.

“Give it some time,” Dr. Song says, when he calls her. “First babies come when they want,
not when they’re expected. The due date is more of an estimate than a deadline.”

Yoongi tries everything: spicy food, ankle massages, even a series of dance challenges. The
challenges go viral but he remains pregnant.

He types ways to bring on labor into Naver and gets back several things he’s already tried,
one or two that sound more unpleasant than being pregnant, and one that will require him to
fill out yet another form for the military. Yoongi closes the browser and makes himself
another cup of raspberry leaf tea.

**
“Honey, I’m hooome,” Hobi calls out, dropping his bag by the door of the nest room. “What
do you need? Should I rub your feet? Make you some tea?”

“Come here and fuck this baby out of me,” Yoongi growls. “Put that big alpha cock to good
use.”
“That’s really all you want from me, my dick?” Hobi protests, mock wounded, then strips and
climbs into the nest where Yoongi is laying down, naked and infuriated and feeling like he’s
ready to pop.

“So beautiful,” Hobi murmurs, leaning down to rub his face on Yoongi’s stomach, and then
his neck. “So round! Growing our little flower so well.”

He presses a kiss onto Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi catches his lip with his teeth, and slides his
fingers into Hobi’s hair to pull him close. Hobi makes a surprised noise, then deepens the
kiss.

“It’s time to bloom, little seed! Appa and Appa are waiting for you,” Hobi adds when Yoongi
lets him go, in the same tone he uses when the pack is slow to learn new step combinations.

Hobi kisses his way down to Yoongi’s chest and gives one nipple a couple of delicate little
kitten licks, then latches on. Yoongi moans and arches into the sensation. Hobi rubs his belly,
then gradually moves his hand down between Yoongi’s legs, and inside his slick-wet folds.

“That’s it, honey,” Hobi croons, as Yoongi cries out and clenches around his hand. “Does that
feel good, baby?”

“Need . . . knot,” Yoongi gets out, as Hobi switches to his other nipple. All of his other words
seem to have departed.

“Soon, sweetheart,” Hobi says, shimmying down the bed and replacing his fingers with his
tongue.

Yoongi grinds into him, every nerve lighting up. Hobi fumbles for his hand, and Yoongi
grabs it and holds on as Hobi takes him over the edge.

Yoongi is almost done riding out the aftershocks when Hobi sits up, and wipes the slick off of
his face and onto his dick with his free hand.

“Better?” he asks, and Yoongi nods. He feels loose and warm, but there’s still an empty ache
deep inside him. Also the internet had been very specific about why only sex with an alpha
would help.

“Need your cum,” he says, pulling his knees back, and is rewarded with both Hobi’s cackling
laughter and a messy kiss.

“Roll on your side, honey, there we go,” Hobi murmurs, and then he’s sliding in.

Yoongi breathes through the stretch, and gives Hobi a little welcoming squeeze. His entire
body feels like it’s slowly melting.

“Feels so good,” Hobi mumbles, as he gets a rhythm going. “Miss you so much, baby.”

“Miss you too,” Yoongi says, or tries to, his words having slipped away again. He turns his
head and kisses Hobi some more, which he thinks gets his point across.
Hobi picks up the pace, then, and Yoongi comes again just as Hobi’s knot swells and locks
them into place. Hobi curls around his back and mouths gently at his pack bite, and Yoongi
sighs happily.

They nap while Hobi’s knot goes down. Yoongi sleeps more deeply than he has in weeks.

The next time Yoongi opens his eyes the first thing he sees is Hobi, sitting cross legged with
his back against the headboard, reading a magazine with his glasses perched on the end of his
nose. Looking at him makes Yoongi want to cry, so he wriggles over to lay his head in his
lap.

“Are you hungry, honey?” Hobi asks, carding his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. “Jungkook
brought us some chicken.”

“Always,” Yoongi grumbles, but doesn’t move.

Hobi makes a low amused noise, grabs the box off the bedside table. Yoongi lets Hobi feed
him, then licks Hobi’s fingers clean and pulls him down into the pillows for round two.
Yoongi comes for the third time while riding Hobi’s knot. Later, after they’ve had a shower,
Hobi burrows back into Yoongi’s chest and nurses himself to sleep, lips and tongue gentle on
Yoongi’s sensitive nipples.

**

Yoongi’s water breaks in his studio two days later. His first thought is damn it, not again, I
liked that carpet followed immediately by a surge of panic when he realizes he hasn’t just
peed himself and the backache he’s had for the last day and a half probably wasn’t just due to
sleeping in a weird position because of the bump. He’s in labor, there is about to be a baby,
and he is not ready.

He calls Namjoon first, largely out of habit. “Water broke, baby’s coming,” he says, when
Joon picks up.

“Oh fuck,” Joon gasps. “Where are you, hyung? Do you have your go-bag?”

“In my studio, and I think so.” He knows he does; Jungkook stashed one in every room of
their apartment, everyone’s studio, and all of the rehearsal rooms, and half of the executive
offices. Every omega in the HYBE building could have a baby and there would probably still
be go-bags left over.

There’s a pause, while Joon talks to someone else. “Jimin’s going to call the base. I’m going
to call a car and I’ll meet you downstairs, ok?”

“Okay,” Yoongi manages, and hangs up. He shuffles over to his desk, saves his work, closes
all of his programs, and turns the computer off. He’s debating packing up the laptop when a
contraction ripples through him and leaves him hunched over and panting.

“Right,” he murmurs, straightening up. “No working, got it.”

He strips off his wet things and pulls dry clothes out of the bag hanging on the back of the
door. He’s tying his trousers around his belly when the door pops open and Jungkook walks
in. All of his usual softness is gone, replaced with razor-sharp focus. It’s extremely attractive
and also a little terrifying.

“I called the doctor,” he announces, with no preamble. “She’s going to meet us at the
hospital. Are you ready, hyung?”

“No,” Yoongi mutters, wincing as another contraction rolls over him. Jungkook takes a step
towards him, then stops when Yoongi pins him with a glare. “Pick me up and I will bite you.”

Jungkook’s brows pinch together, but he doesn’t argue. He does, however, take the go-bag
away from Yoongi, and hold his arm out for Yoongi to take. “Come on, we’re going to have
to take the freight elevator. Yeonjun and Soobin cleared the hallways for you.”

Yoongi grabs on, and lets Jungkook tow him along. They’re halfway to the elevators when a
particularly strong contraction makes him stumble, and Jungkook scoops him up to power
walk the rest of the way.

**
The ride to the hospital takes an eternity. Yoongi uses the time to text an update to Yijeong,
Halsey, and both his and Hobi’s parents. He also drafts and discards several different
imaginary headlines on the theme of Idol has baby on Olympic Bridge, traffic snarled for
hours while trying to focus on his breathing. He presses his nose into Namjoon’s neck, which
is comforting even if Namjoon’s blockers make it impossible to smell anything, and closes
his eyes. Jimin curls around his other side and soothes him with a low rumbly purr.

When they do finally get there, Yoongi is immediately loaded into a wheelchair and whisked
inside to a private birthing suite. Namjoon lingers at the desk, filling out paperwork and
gently steamrollering the nurses with his dimples; Jungkook and Jimin stay with Yoongi.

The birthing suite is large, and tastefully furnished, with a big window facing Seoul. There’s
a massive nest-bed, as well as a couple of smaller beds; a free-standing pool; a traditional
birthing chair; a couple of overstuffed arm chairs; a fridge; and a television. There’s also an
adjoining bathroom, with a toilet and step-in shower.

Dr. Song comes in and checks Yoongi’s vital signs and progress, and puts a monitor on his
belly.

“6 centimeters,” she says, when she’s done. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a
packet of wet wipes and hands it to him. “Go ahead and wipe your blockers off, and then try
to get some rest.”

She leaves. Yoongi climbs into the nest and settles down among the pillows. He sends
everyone another update, then tries to nap. The antiseptic smell of the bedding and the
slightly irregular waves of contractions make it difficult, and he eventually gives up and
watches Jungkook bustle around closing the curtains, dimming the lights and plugging in a
diffuser. Jimin turns the television on and channel surfs until he finds something he likes,
then joins Yoongi in the nest. Yoongi pulls a wet wipe out of the packet and scrubs Jimin’s
blockers off too, which helps drown out the hospital smells. Jimin makes a little grumbly
noise then curls around Yoongi and starts purring again.

“Taehyung just texted, he says he’s about to leave and Hobi and Jin will be here in a couple
of hours,” Namjoon announces, when he comes in. “He wants to know if we need anything.”

“The big bag by the pack nest,” Jungkook says. Namjoon nods and taps that into his phone.

“This baby, out of me,” Yoongi calls out. “My laptop from my studio.”

He gets laughter, for the first one, and Jimin yanking on his hair, for the second one. Yoongi
rolls over to retaliate and they have a lazy slapfight until Namjoon comes over to fuss at them
and break it up.

Yoongi levers himself up and walks slowly around the room, Namjoon hovering behind him.
After three circuits Yoongi gets bored and switches to the birthing ball. He wonders, absently,
if he could use the sound the ball makes in a song, and pulls out his phone to record it, in case
he wants it later. The contractions continue to roll over him in slow, painful waves.
Eventually he gets back in the nest and tries sleeping again; it still doesn’t work, no matter
how much Jimin purrs and rubs his back.

Taehyung arrives, with Jungkook’s bag but without Yoongi’s laptop. Jungkook evicts Yoongi
and Jimin from the nest so he can change out the sheets and pillows. When they get back in,
it smells of home, and pack, and Yoongi cries a little on Jimin’s shoulder before slipping into
a shallow, restless sleep.

He wakes up to the smell of fried chicken, strawberries, and fresh cut grass. When he opens
his eyes Jin and Hobi are standing next to the nest, bags of carry-out food in their hands.

“Hi honey,” Jin says, handing the food to Namjoon and leaning over to press a kiss onto
Yoongi’s forehead. “We’re here, go ahead and have the baby.”

“I’m trying,” Yoongi grumbles, then stifles a moan as another contraction hits.

Hobi peels himself out of his outerwear and climbs into the nest, taking Jimin’s place at
Yoongi’s back. Yoongi isn’t allowed to eat real food - a precaution, the doctor had explained,
in case of emergency – so he buries his face in Hobi’s neck to avoid the delicious smells.
Hobi cuddles him close and rubs his back and sings to him, low and sweet. Yoongi doesn’t
fall asleep but he does rest, at least until a nurse comes in to poke and prod him some more.

“Still six centimeters,” she states, making a note on the chart. “Who’s in charge of timing
contractions?”

“I am,” Jungkook and Hobi answer, in stereo, making both of them laugh.

“Call us if they speed up, or if you start to feel nauseated,” she says, and Yoongi nods.

When they’re done eating, a gaggle of people in uncomfortable looking suits arrive to take
Namjoon and the maknae on a tour of one of the oncology wards the pack has been
supporting with donations. Jin spends some time fussing around remaking all of the extra
beds and putting food away, then sits down in one of the armchairs, pulls out his phone and
some earbuds, and gets enmeshed in a game.

Hobi puts on Jungkook’s hat and a mask and takes Yoongi out to walk in the corridors. They
aren’t going to fool anyone up close or far away, despite the way the military has broadened
Hobi’s shoulders, but Yoongi is so glad to get out of the room he decides he isn’t going to
worry about it. In the end he finds he needn’t have been concerned at all: the corridors aren’t
very full, and the people who are there aren’t paying much attention to them anyway. It is
perhaps the most privacy Yoongi has enjoyed in a public space in years, and he takes
advantage of the opportunity to hold Hobi’s hand.

Hobi keeps up a steady stream of conversation, mostly about people on the base that Yoongi
doesn’t know. He’s in the middle of explaining how every member of his unit would do as a
HYBE trainee when Yoongi feels his stomach roll, and stops walking.

“Feel sick,” Yoongi gets out, tearing up as a particularly strong contraction rolls over him.

“Ok, honey, come on, let’s go,” Hobi murmurs, somehow calm as he gets them turned around
and headed back to the room.

After that is mostly a blur of pain. Yoongi is vaguely aware of the rest of the pack returning,
and nurses coming in and out, but his world has narrowed the burning agony happening in his
midsection.

He curls up in the nest with Hobi, and stays there until the doctor arrives to coax him into the
birthing chair.

“Almost there, Yoongi-ssi,” Dr. Song calls out, once he’s settled, with Hobi wrapped around
his back, and Jimin and Namjoon each holding one of his hands. “Push!”

So he does, once, twice, three times, and then he stops, trying to get his breath back. He can
hear the doctor talking but he can’t absorb the words.

“One more time, honey,” Jimin murmurs, squeezing his hand, while Hobi nuzzles his neck,
and the rest of the pack echo Jimin. “Come on, you can do it.”

Yoongi takes another steadying breath, then bears down and brings his daughter into the
world.

**
Hobi gathers Yoongi up and carries him to the nest while the baby gets weighed and
measured and tested. A few minutes later Dr. Song sets Yoongi’s daughter on his chest. She’s
tiny and perfect and he loves her immediately.

“Hobah,” he chokes out, as Hobi crawls in next to them, eyes shining behind his glasses.
“Hobah, we made a person.”

“We sure did,” Hobi whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss on both of their heads. “She’s
beautiful, Yoongi-chi.”
Yoongi sleeps for a while, curled up with Hobi, with the baby between them. He wakes up
when he feels Hobi move, and the first thing he sees is Jungkook standing next to the nest,
camera in hand.

“Ready for a picture?” he asks, sweet and earnest as ever. “To go with the birth
announcement.”

Hobi makes a low noise – not quite a growl – but still sits up and looks around, as if Yoongi’s
clothes will spontaneously manifest amid the pillows and blankets. Then Taehyung arrives
with a clean black hanbok for Yoongi and a tiny black onesie with a carnation printed on the
front for the baby, and a pink beanie. Yoongi pulls the hanbok on, then gets the baby dressed.
He presses the snaps closed around her diaper and hopes, absently, that whoever made it is
ready for what is about to happen to their inbox.

“I’m going to take one of all three of you,” Jungkook explains, as Yoongi and Hobi resettle
themselves. “And then one of just Yoongi and the baby.”

“And then we’re done,” Hobi says, his scent turned sharp and his tone brooking no argument.

“And then we’re done,” Jungkook agrees, while Yoongi nuzzles into Hobi’s neck and rubs
their wrists together.

Jungkook actually takes three, after the rest of the pack comes over and insists on being
included, but after that the camera is ceremoniously packed away.

**

Hello this is BigHit.

We are pleased to announce that Min Kyungseon arrived safely today at 7 PM KST, at 3.4
KG and 51 centimeters (7.5 lbs, 20 inches). She and Min Yoongi are in good health and
resting comfortably.

We thank you for all of your good wishes, and urge fans to not visit the hospital, or to send
gifts, as storage is limited and they could be lost. We ask that they instead please express
their joy and welcoming feelings in their hearts.
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!