More Than The Fight

There's a rush in what Yoongi and RM have, something dark and intense that keeps a thrill in the alpha's body for every Saturday night.

Normally they'd exchange quips after each other finished their sets in the underground club, biting trash talk and smug jabs thrown like knives. Maybe they'd diss each other in their lyrics, provoking the other.

Maybe they'd come close to fighting. That's happened once or twice, too.

So when RM finishes his performance, patrons cheering him on as he descends into the crowd, Yoongi's moving his way, a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't even get a syllable out before RM just shoulders past him, hood up and eyes to the ground.

Yoongi's a little taken aback, thinking they're going straight into a fight, but when he turns to grab RM's shoulder, the other alpha is already making his way through the doors of the backrooms.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Dick. Sure, his set was decent, but does he think he's too good to talk to anyone now? Too good to hang around after he performs? He's got groupies, for god sakes, even if he's never seen leaving the club with any of them.

The annoyance builds in him for another reason though. As much as they push and taunt and fight, they still always watch each other perform. It's an unspoken rule between the two alphas.

But RM left before Yoongi even went on, and that pisses him off.

By the time his set's over, and RM is still nowhere to be seen in the crowd, Yoongi is furious. Fuck it.

Hopping from the stage, Yoongi follows RM's earlier example, storming back towards the storage rooms turned dressing rooms in the back of the club. He gets to RM's door, a little placard marked Rkive hanging next to it.

Yoongi pounds on his door, "RM!"

There's no response, so Yoongi waits a few more seconds before bringing his fist up again, hitting the wood as he yells, "The fuck is your problem tonight?"

Still, nothing. This fucking guy...

Clenching his jaw, Yoongi opens the door, ready to call out the other alpha for his shit etiquette, but when it opens, the wave of pheromones threaten to knock him back and off his feet.

Scents in the club are a haze, alpha, beta, and a scarce few omega pheromones mixing together into a cacophony of scents. It's hard to single out a specific scent to any specific person. RM though, Yoongi could always seem to find, strong and masculine in an overwhelming sort of way. It rubbed at him when he could detect it amongst the crowd, grated at his instincts.

That scent is nowhere to be found in RM's dressing room. With the door open, Yoongi is hit with a strong wave of jasmine omega pheromones.

Omega heat pheromones.

His first knee-jerk thought is that RM ducked back to his dressing room to finally fuck one of his omega groupies, and that boils up a dark rage inside Yoongi that unfamiliar to him. The anger leaves just as quickly as it came though, when instead of seeing RM mounting someone, he finds the other alpha curled in on himself on his dingy loveseat.

RM's physically shaking, the scent in the room sickeningly sweet with distress. Once he gathers Yoongi's presence, his head jerks up. He lets out a warning hiss, teeth clenched as he bites out, "Leave."

He's trying to come off threatening, doing his best to intimidate Yoongi into leaving, and honestly, it almost works. He's never seen RM so intense. But his eyes and his scent betray him. Behind the act right now, Yoongi can tell.