Min Yoongi (19)

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

The evening at headquarters dragged on endlessly, smelling of cold coffee, gun grease, and paperwork. Jimin rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, looking at the report in front of him. The red ink of Min Yoongi's name on the battalion's supply documents was more irritating than usual.

Major Park Jimin, General Park's only son, earned his rank not from his father, but through sweat and blood on the training grounds. He outranked his husband, which never bothered them at home, but within the walls of the unit it created a piquant and difficult chain of command. Except there was no home anymore. Or rather, there was an empty, cold apartment that smelled of someone else's loneliness, not the pine musk of an alpha.

Three heats. Three damn times Jimin endured this sweltering heat alone, gritting his teeth until they bled and burying his nose in the only remaining pillow, scented with Yoongi's scent as he "saves the motherland" at yet another training exercise or outpost. And the last straw was Jimin's: he didn't come home for two weeks, sending only a dry "Busy at the site" message around midnight.
The office door creaked, and he appeared in the doorway. Colonel Min Yoongi looked tired, with shadows of sleeplessness under his eyes, his uniform collar slightly wrinkled.

• Jimin-ah, I'm talking about the distribution of ammunition...

"Major Park to you, Colonel Min," Jimin finally looked up. His amber eyes lacked their usual tenderness—only steel and a deep, ringing weariness. "Subordination in the service has not yet been abolished."

Yoongi frowned as he took a step forward, instinctively trying to fill the space with his dominant scent, but he ran into an invisible yet impenetrable wall.

"What's going on?" the alpha's voice took on a commanding tone. "Why are you making a fuss in the middle of the workday?"